"Pet Mommy": Nerd Orgy pt5

It was a crazy few days with both my daughter's and my being fucked by my son, her brother, our Master. (In case that's confusing, all three of those guys were the same eighteen-year-old. Kind of like the time a rural gentleman introduced me to "my sister and my wife" when there was only one gal with him.)

Michael revelled in his power over us, particularly over his sister, who'd treated him so badly for most of his life. They say payback is a bitch, and this was definitely the case both literally and figuratively as Michael dominated his sister for the rest of her visit. On the day she was leaving, he shot three loads on her face and required her to wear his cum all day, not allowing her to wash her face at all until she arrived in her home on the west coast. She was required to send pictures while in line at security, on the plane, in the taxi on the way home, and finally from her own bathroom. To my complete astonishment she obeyed this command and texted us the evidence, even though she was no longer in Michael's presence and wouldn't see him again for at least several months.

Once she flew back to her summer job, it was again just Michael and me, and on occasion Frederick joining in to make us a threesome.

As summer began, Michael asked, after depositing a load deep in my ass, "Mom, what's a fantasy you'd really like to come true?"

"I'm already living the fantasy," I answered, which was true. Finding a man I loved and trusted enough to be my Master was all I'd ever wanted. I had never been so completely content as I was on the day I submitted to my son, and every day since.

He smiled, "Me too, Mom. But what's the greatest fantasy you have yet to fulfill?"

I pondered this. I supposed I could give him lots of answers. Now that I'd committed incest with both my son and daughter, the thought of my brother popped into my head. I also liked the idea of being seduced and dominated by an entire sorority house. Yet, my biggest fantasy ever since high school had always been to be gangbanged. The idea was hot for several reasons:

-I wanted to have all three holes filled at once

-I love having cum shot into my mouth, cunt and ass (each of those feeling different)

-I also like a guy calling me a dirty slut when he coats my face with his sticky white stuff

-I wanted to see how many cocks I could take in one night, and how many times I could come in one night

Finally, I answered, "Once I tell you, you may think I'm a bigger slut than you already do."

He laughed, "Sluttier than incest?"

"Maybe, you judge," I shrugged, "I want to be gangbanged."

"Of course you do," he smiled, not remotely surprised by my answer.

I asked nervously, "Am I a bad Mommy?"

"So bad," he purred, as he slid his ready-to-go-again cock in my mouth.

After a couple of minutes of my sucking his cock, he pulled out and slammed into my cunt as I quipped, "Of course, a perfect gangbang would be a bunch of virile young men, each of them able to shoot a few loads in a single night."

"Hmmmmm," he groaned, contemplating my fantasy.

During the next week I met with Frederick's mom for coffee, but I couldn't even begin to fathom how I might seduce her. I complimented her on her hair and touched her arm twice, but all in all the conversation was very vanilla.

On Friday Michael announced, as I knelt in front of him sucking his cock while he watched Dr. Who, "Tomorrow Mommy-slut, you get gangbanged."

"P-p-pardon?" I stammered, stupefied by such an unexpected declaration.

"I've set up a gangbang for you tomorrow night," he paraphrased himself nonchalantly.

"With whom?" I asked, very curious and eager, although worried about protecting my identity.

"Nerds," he answered.

"Do you mind being more specific?" I countered, slowly stroking his cock.

"Actually yes, I do mind," he countered, before adding, "now finish me off; Frederick will be here soon, and I have to get into my costume."

I returned to sucking his cock, completely loving to have it in my mouth, as I pondered what his plan might look like. I knew comic con was in town this weekend, and thus the community was swarming with geeks and nerds of every stripe. Yet, how could an event so G-Rated become the setting for a gangbang with yours truly in the starring role? (Well okay, maybe PG-13: some of those costumes got pretty sexy, but nothing you could get arrested for.)

Even though I didn't know how Michael would pull it off, my cunt leaked at his promise as my son shot his load down my throat, completing the trifecta like he did almost every day (one load each in my ass, cunt and mouth in no specific order).

He finished watching the episode as I gave his cock a nice warm-down after his climax.

Finally he said, "Get some rest tonight, Mommy-slut, tomorrow night will be a marathon."

**********

By the way, it's pretty much impossible to get much sleep when you know one of your biggest lifetime fantasies is about to come true.

My mind was a mess, from complete excitement and a burning cunt, to utter panic at the prospect of getting fucked by who knew how many complete strangers. That said, the idea of being fucked by any strangers at all, and used however they pleased for their pleasure, was also a major turn-on.

I'd always craved being a slut, but now that I was a Mommy-slut, as Michael loved to call me, I craved this scenario where I could become an even bigger slut.

Thankfully, after masturbating to another orgasm, I finally fell asleep.

**********

Saturday morning, for only the second time since submitting to my son, I didn't get a load of cum in any of my holes for breakfast.

Michael hadn't come home last night and I can't deny it, not getting my morning load of cum threw me off. It had become my version of a morning coffee, and without it I felt lethargic and crabby.

I showered, ate breakfast and read the paper, wondering where he was, and what exactly he had in store for me.

It wasn't until after two o'clock when he finally texted me.

Mommy-slut

You need to go to Comic Cosmo and choose from one of the three costumes I left with your name on them. Ask for Joey.

P.S. I'll be picking you up from home at 5:30 to be my date at Comic Con.

P.P.S. of course, you'll wear thigh highs with whichever outfit you choose.

P.P.P.S. of course, no bra or panties.

Have fun.

I reread the text, my pussy tingling, having felt neglected by Michael's absence today.

I sighed as I wondered what Michael thought would be an appropriate outfit for his mother to go to Comic Con in... and likely to get gangbanged in.

I drove to the shop and entered it, briefly flashing back to my earlier adult store adventure where my daughter had fastened a slave choker around my neck. Although this wasn't your typical adult store, this one specialized primarily in racy and comic book themed costumes and videos.

Arriving inside, I went to the desk and asked for Joey. To my surprise, Joey was female, a very pretty, voluptuous young lady.

"You must be Betty," she smiled warmly.

"That's what my birth certificate says," I responded, feeling a bit flirtatious for some reason.

She laughed, "So, your boyfriend left you three outfits to choose from. He wants you to try each of them on, and have me take a photo with your phone and send it to him."

"Okay," I said tentatively, noticing her come-hither smile. She was clearly intrigued by me.

"Follow me," she ordered, as she added, turning to an older brunette, "Please look after things; I'm doing a personal fitting."

"Yes, ma'am," the brunette nodded.

I thought it strange that a woman in her forties would call a girl half her age 'ma'am'.

Yet I followed her like the submissive I was, past the changing rooms and into the back, that was in itself a large changing room.

Joey walked over to a table and picked up the first outfit. She handed it to me.

"Seriously?" I asked; even after all the excesses I'd submitted to, this seemed to be pushing it.

"Your 'Master', as he called himself, chose these three ensembles himself," Joey stated bluntly, her tone amused and yet authoritative.

My face burned red with the realization that she knew I was a submissive to a much younger man. I prayed she didn't also know he was my son. I nodded, trying to appear casual but I don't think doing very well, "He's a creative Master."

"Setting up a gangbang for you is indeed creative," she nodded matter-of-factly, as she handed me the ridiculously revealing 'Princess Leia' outfit.

I took it and asked, as I looked around the room, "Where do I change?"

"If you're feeling modest, there's a washroom right over there," she pointed.

I went into the washroom and got undressed. I changed into white thigh highs and white four-inch heels and finally the dress, and once I was dressed in the ridiculously revealing outfit and looked into a mirror, I gasped. Just like the costume the Princess had worn in the movies it covered me from neck to ankles, but this version was clingy, and it looked as if it had been shot through with dozens of fist-sized projectiles which miraculously hadn't penetrated my skin. So even though my nipples or pussy weren't quite exposed (if I didn't move around very much), fully revealed were large and seemingly random portions of my breasts, legs, hips, back, ass... everything was more or less on display. It would be obvious to anyone at first glance that except for my thigh highs and heels, I wasn't wearing so much as a thong underneath the dress. And just like they had done at Michael's graduation, my unsupported breasts were shifting around freely whenever I moved. It looked like I was a porn actress on a very closed set.

"Come out and let me see it," Joey called.

Joey had suggested I might feel modest about changing in front of her. That would have been nothing compared to this! I was mortified for her to see me in this outfit! As I walked timidly towards her, I could tell from the movements of her eyes that the fabric of my dress was shifting around constantly, giving her frequent glimpses of all my goodies. And she didn't try to hide that she liked everything she was seeing.

Yet, knowing that Michael was expecting photos, I forced myself to walk out, leaving the last shreds of my dignity behind in the washroom.

Joey nodded, "Wow, you have a better body than I do. And I love how everything is moving in and out of view like you're a walking peep show."

I had mixed feelings about the compliment, too complex to explain even to myself. I managed, "Um, thanks, but I feel completely naked in this."

"There's one more piece to the ensemble," she offered.

"I hope it's a long cape," I joked.

Joey retrieved something from the table and walked over to me. "Your new hair."

"I don't think that's what they'll be looking at," I pointed out, realizing I would be every repressed geek's wildest fantasy.

"I'm sure you're right," Joey agreed, "but at Comic Con they want as much authenticity as possible."

"I don't think Carrie Fisher ever had tits this big," I suggested.

"There," she declared, backing away. "Wow!"

"Wow, what?" I asked,

"You look a lot like her," she answered.

"I do?"

"Yes, there's a full-length mirror just past the door leading back towards the store, go take a look."

I was worried I might have to walk back into the store, but thankfully the mirror was in the corridor between the two sections.

Seeing myself in the mirror, I too gasped. I did indeed look a lot like Princess Leia... a particularly slutty version of her, but Carrie was never secretive about having adventurous sex, so I was sure she wouldn't mind my portrayal.

Joey said, startling me by her sudden appearance as I stared at myself, "I think we have a winner."

"I look like a slut," I pointed out.

"You are a slut, aren't you?" she asked, an unmistakable slap in the face. It was one thing to be called a slut by my son, but this was different.

"I guess," I said sourly.

"I apologize if I offended you, Princess; I'm pretty slutty myself, so I meant that as a compliment. Let's take a few pictures to send to your Master, and then you can try on outfit number two," she instructed, snapping her fingers and directing me back to the oversized changing room.

I followed her obediently and stood for the picture.

"Pose sensually," she ordered, "not like you're going to a funeral."

I again obeyed, and as the flashes began (both mine and the ones from my phone), I was drawn into my posing, enjoying the brief attention of being a model.

After a dozen or so photos, she approved, "That was much better." She went to the table and selected a Wonder Woman outfit, "Now go try this one on."

I grabbed it and went to the washroom. I slipped out of my first revealing costume and put on the next. This one wasn't nearly as blatant as the other, even though it had far less fabric; it was a thong bikini version of the Lynda Carter costume, with a narrow red bandeau made of spandex more or less containing my generous breasts, and a powder blue thong that made me very glad I shaved down there. It also had a gold rope around my waist and a long but filmy red cape that covered my back whenever I or the air stood still, but which floated in the air to display my ass whenever it encountered the slightest waft of moving air. The ensemble was completed by powder blue thigh highs and four-inch high-heeled red sandals held in place with thongs wrapping around my legs almost up to my knees. I didn't look like a walking peep show this time, but I still looked slutty, especially with the thigh thighs completely exposed top to toe.

I walked out, less nervous than I'd been in the Princess Leia outfit.

She nodded, "You look good in that one too, I love how it displays the upper and lower slopes of those tits of yours."

"Thanks," I replied, noticing how the form-hugging spandex did really display my breasts perfectly, including the way the shape of my hard nipples was apparent even though they weren't technically visible.

"Pose," she ordered, as she lifted my phone to her face.

I again posed, enjoying her dominant approach to me.

"Here's the next one," she handed me a very colourful outfit. "Daisy."

"Okay," I nodded, having no idea who Daisy was.

I went back to the change room and began putting on the colourful costume. This one didn't make any sense to me at all: it was a short bright yellow dress with white trim, and the very opposite of sexy: it was downright prim, I wasn't sure the fabric wasn't even flannel. The skirt was short but not obscenely so except for the fact that my orange thigh highs (with prominent white seams down the back) were visible top to bottom except for my clunky white ankle boot two-inch heels. The only other feature about the costume that could be considered remotely sexy was that my arms were bare, up to and including part of my shoulders, so if someone had a fetish about seeing naked arms, then it was game on. Once the weird costume was in place, I put on the strange mushroom head hat that came with it, and returned to Joey.

"Hmmmmm," she mused, as she looked at me.

"Who the hell am I?" I asked.

"Daisy," she answered. When I looked at her blankly she added, "From Mario Brothers."

"Oh," I said dully, vaguely recalling Michael playing those games on the wii before he moved on to a playstation.

"You can't portray her if you don't know who she is," Joey declared, as she snapped a couple photos of me anyway.

"So, Star Wars peep show or superhero beach babe," she pondered.

"Definitely Wonder Woman," I declared, having felt slightly more comfortable in that one than I was in the Swiss cheese Princess Leia costume.

"We'll let your Master decide," she shrugged, as she typed on my phone.

"Okay," I nodded, knowing he'd pick the Princess Leia costume because he was a Star Wars nut. Our last cat had even been called Chewbacca.

"And while we await his response, why don't you come and give me my tip for assisting you?" she said, as she sat down on a chair and spread her legs.

I could have protested, or at least feigned objection, yet my natural desire to submit took control as usual. I removed my silly headgear, walked over to her, dropped to my knees and tugged her panties down. Once they were off, I leaned forward and began licking her overly hairy pussy.

"You really are as obedient as he said you'd be," she moaned.

I wondered what else he'd said about me, although mostly I was just thankful he hadn't let on that I was his mother.

Joey's abundance of hair was annoying and awkward at first, but once my fingers had parted a path to her pussy lips it became pleasant; her scent, very like ocean spray, was a lot stronger from being captured in her pubes.

"That's it, lick my cunt," she moaned, enjoying my tongue.

As her pussy got wetter and her breathing heavier, I moved up to her clit and took it between my lips.

"Oh shiiiit," she moaned, grabbing the back of my head and pressing my face fiercely into her cunt.

I kept licking until I felt a gush of wetness coat my entire face. I hungrily lapped up her pussy juice, which had such a unique day-at-the-beach taste to it.

When she released my head, she asked, "Could you taste your Master's cum in my cunt?"

I was jealous that his first load today hadn't been shot in me, but I gave her another slow lick, savoured the taste briefly and answered, "A little."

She checked my phone, which had buzzed a couple times during our sexual encounter. She reported, "He wants you in the Princess Leia outfit and to be ready at your home for him to pick you up at five-thirty."

"Of course he did," I nodded, nervous about being seen in public in such an outfit, even though the expectation of my gangbang was really exciting me.

"Of course, he also wants you to buy all the other outfits you tried on," she added, standing up.

"Of course he does," I smirked, already imagining many hours of role play ahead. But who the heck was Daisy, and would role playing her include jumping up and down on a trampoline and dodging flying objects?

Ten minutes later I'd paid for the outfits, happy I didn't have to be seen in any of them until Michael picked me up at 5:30, and I was just getting to my car when my phone rang. It was Michael.