Midlife Surrender Ch. 07

"Turn towards the island, slut-toy," he ordered, officially branding her with her new moniker.

"Yes, Master," she replied, accepting the brand submissively as a chill shot down her spine.

Once she was facing the island as ordered, Stuart continued. "Bend over so your head and shoulders are resting on the counter with your legs spread and your ass perched up behind you. Then reach behind you with both hands and spread your butt-cheeks wide."

Another shiver shot through Pamela's body as realized exactly what position her son was maneuvering her into. Even so, she somehow found the strength to swallow the lump in her throat and respond.

"Yes, Master." And a moment later, there she was, bent over the island with her hands spreading her cheeks so wide her ass hole and pussy were on clear display, feeling more exposed than she'd ever felt before. And a flush of red spread across her face as she realized that the feeling was eerily similar to the feeling she had the other evening when Kara laid claim to her body. Only this time it wasn't Kara that was staking her claim, it was her son. And this time there would be no running away when it was over. And yet another shiver shot through her pussy as a cold chill shook her body.

Quietly, Stuart eased behind his mother, then dropped to one knee. He could see her shaking and almost feel her humiliation as he took a close look at the glistening, puffy lips of her pussy and at the forbidden dark hole that rested just above it. He held this position for several seconds, examining her quietly. Then he took a long, slow breath and began the process of putting the final definitions to the new order of the Chambers household.

First, he reached out and slid his right hand over his mother's pussy, slipping first one, then a second finger into her womanhood and twisting them slowly.

"Oh, Christ," his mother whispered, even as she began grinding herself subconsciously against the invading fingers.

"There are a few things we need to establish," Stuart started, as if this were just another typical mother/son conversation. Then he pressed his fingers a little deeper and ground them a little harder, smiling slightly as his slut-toy writhed atop his hand.

"First off, things will be different with you than they are with Kara and Amy."

Pamela's heart seemed to almost skip a beat at the mention of Amy's name, even as she lifted herself instinctively from the counter. "Amy?" she questioned. But Stuart only smiled, lifted his left hand onto her back and pressed her back down.

"Yes, Amy, too," he said simply. Then he continued.

"Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted, when I'm through with Amy or Kara for the night, what do I do?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders in a mock gesture that seemed to indicate that the answer couldn't be more obvious.

"I come home, of course," he said, answering his own question.

"But what will I do when I'm through with you for the night?" he continued. "You do see what I'm getting at, don't you, Pammy?" he asked, not only using her first name for the first time, but taking liberties with it that he knew she's normally never approve. "At what point do you cease being my slut-toy and begin being my mother? And at what point do I change from Master to son?"

He paused briefly. "Well?" he pressed when she didn't immediately respond. "When does that happen?"

Pamela lifted her head slightly, then tried to gather her enough wits to answer. But "I don't know," were the only words she could muster.

"The reason you don't know, Mother dear, is because it won't work that way. If we go forward with this, I will need to be the Master in all aspects of our life, not just the sexual aspects." He hesitated, allowing his words to sink in, even as he was withdrawing his fingers to the point that they nearly slipped completely out of her pussy. "Are you really prepared for that, Pammy? Are you really prepared to surrender everything -- and I do mean everything -- to me?" And then he renewed his assault on her pussy, slamming his fingers deep inside her, twisting them, then withdrawing them and slamming them home again.

"Yes," Pamela screamed out as the fingers rammed her pussy -- in, then out, then in, then out again. "Oh, sweet Jesus, yes." And for several long, wonderful moments the fingers continued to work their magic on her, bringing her nearer and nearer the brink until suddenly, without warning, they were gone.

"Noooooo," she moaned. "Don't stop."

But Stuart ignored her as he rose to his feet and slipped to her left side, then slid his left hand over her breast and squeezed.

"Oh, shit!" Pamela responded, her knees nearly buckling beneath her. Yet through it all -- through the slamming in and out of her pussy and the grasping and squeezing of her breast -- she held firmly to her butt-cheeks, not releasing them even for the briefest of instants, a fact that did not go unnoticed by her son.

After a moment Stuart relaxed his grip on her breast, not quite relinquishing it completely. He then moved his right hand to her ass and slid it slowly down her crack. An instant later the tip of his big finger was slipping into her dark hole.

His Mother's reaction to the unexpected violation of her anus was immediate; her head jerking off the island counter-top and her body going suddenly rigid. It was a reaction that was not unexpected by Stuart, and it confirmed what he already suspected -- the ass was something his mother had never before shared. And he couldn't hide the grin that broke out across his face as he eased his finger deeper into her darkness, even as he increased the pressure on her breast.

A whispered "oh, my God" slipped from Pamela's mouth as the finger worked its way further and further into her, not stopping its invasion until it was completely buried inside her. And as she held her position, bent over the island with her hands holding her butt-cheeks wide while her son fondled her breast with one hand and reamed her asshole with the other, it finally struck home -- not only was there was no limit to what Stuart -- her Master -- could ask for, there was also no limit to what she was prepared to surrender. And another shiver flashed through her body as the pressure on her ass and breast increased again.

Stuart kept up the pressure for several seconds before relaxing his grip on her breast. Then, when he saw her body beginning to relax, he began slowly easing his finger out of her ass. He stopped his retreat when the first knuckle slipped into daylight, but instead of slipping it back in, he began working it round and round, stretching her slightly and causing another shot of tension to shoot through his mother's body. That's when he brought his index finger alongside his big finger and began easing both of them into her darkness.

"Oh, shit!" Pamela gasped as the second finger slipped inside to join the first. Then she closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip as the two fingers began working there way further and further inside.

It wasn't until both fingers were completely buried in her ass that Stuart finally broke the silence, releasing his hold on her tit even as the first words were flowing from his mouth.

"Hands on the counter around your head," he said simply, nodding his head curtly when his order was obeyed with neither comment nor hesitation. Then he leaned over slightly and slid his left hand under her tummy and down to her love button, before slipping back its hood with two fingers and allowing a third to begin dancing across its swollen redness.

"Arrrgggghhhhhhhhhh," Pamela gasped as a bolt of lightning shot through her loins. Instinctively, she shoved her ass backwards, further impaling her anus on her son's fingers, even as his other hand kept up its attack on her love button.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she wailed, her groin writhing wildly between his hands. But then, before she could achieve her pleasure, the one finger stopped its attack on her clit while the two fingers of his other hand froze in her ass.

"This is the way it's going to be," Stuart said without preface. "As Master of the house, it is only fitting that the master bedroom be mine. Understand?" he challenged, jabbing his fingers back into her ass.

"Ahhhhh!" she gasped sharply, and then responded without thought. "Yes, Master."

"You will take over my old bedroom, although as long as you prove to be a worthy slut-toy, you will be permitted to share my bed. Do you understand that?" And he gave her another jab in her asshole, which elicited another pained, yet prompt affirmation.

"Yes, Master."

"Finally, as Master of the house, all household decisions will be mine. In furtherance of this, I will also take over all financial matters pertaining to the household. Accordingly, I will be made a signer on all checking and savings accounts, in addition to being put on all the investments. Is that also clear, slut-toy!" And this time, when he rammed his fingers into her asshole for emphasis, he also slid his finger back onto her clit, sending his mother nearly, but not quite, over the edge.

"Yes, yes, oh God, yes," she cried out. And then, after her son's fingers slipped completely from her asshole and began slowly caressing her butt cheeks, she was able to gather herself enough for a more controlled answer. "You can have anything you want," she managed between still heavy breaths. "Anything at all." And then her head slumped back to the counter in total submission.

For nearly a minute, Stuart allowed his mother to rest, his right hand softly caressing her buttocks while his left big finger hovered near, but not quite on, her love button. Then, when he sensed that she was finally beginning to regather herself, he started again.

"Now, Pammy, let's talk about your annoying habit of sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong." He paused long enough to feel the tension return to her body, then continued. "Like with Kara the other night."

And then, before she had time to reply -- WHACK!!! WHACK!!! -- two hard, stinging right hands landed squarely on her butt.

"Ow!" she screamed, lurching suddenly upright, only be to be stopped by Stuart's right hand as it moved quickly from her buttocks to her back and pushed her firmly back back to the island-top.

"But I thought . . .," she stammered. "I mean aren't we . . ." But before she could clearly organize her thoughts, her son's right hand withdrew from her back and -- WHACK!!! WHACK!!! -- delivered two more blows to her exposed buttocks.

"You thought that since everything seems to be working out, I'd forget about your little transgression," he interrupted. "Is that it?"

The now nervously shaking woman struggled to swallow the lump in her throat. "Yes," she answered softly, even as she braced for another blow.

But the anticipated blow didn't come as, instead, the right hand of her Master slid between her butt-cheeks and down to her pussy, where two of his fingers slipped easily into her box, even as the big finger of his left hand was sliding over her clit.

"Let me see if I have this right," Stuart continued as he began gently working the clit and pussy of his mother. "You put your relationship with Kara, my relationship with Kara, and our relationship with each other at risk, and you think that, just because it looks like everything might work out, I'm simply going to forget all about it?" He paused again, continuing to let his fingers work their magic, knowing by his mother's movements and groans that they were having the desired effect. Then he continued.

"Is that what you're saying, Pammy? Really?"

Pamela shook her head slowly, groaning in hopeless resignation as she realized her son wasn't 'simply going to forget all about it.'

"I'm sorry," she said in a weak, cracking voice. "I thought I needed to . . ." But she didn't finish the thought, knowing instinctively that nothing she could say in her own defense would hold up in her new reality.

"Please forgive me," she finally managed to utter, completing the statement just as her son's right hand withdrew from her pussy and -- WHACK!!! WHACK!!! -- delivered two more stinging blow to her rear end.

Before the sting of the blows could work its way through her body, Stuart's right hand was returning to his mother's groin, only this time, even as two fingers were slipping into her pussy, his thumb was pressing against the gates of her dark hole. And a shiver shot through Pamela's body as the thumb popped inside her, and a guttural, lustful moan filled the air.

Stuart worked his mother with a skill far beyond his years. He tweaked his finger across her swollen clit, then worked his fingers in and out, around and around her pussy, even as his thumb continued to work her nether-hole.

He could tell by the way she was grinding herself against him that her excitement was growing. And he could tell by the way she was gasping for air and by how her hands were struggling to grab hold of the flat surface of the island that her orgasm was near and that the only thing needed to send her completely over the edge was . . .

He slammed the fingers and thumb of his right hand as deep into her as he could, even as he was unleashing his left hand on her clit, sending her instantly into a shivering, shaking delirium as her body exploded in the orgasm it had thus far been denied.

But Stuart wasn't satisfied with just an orgasm, so instead of withdrawing and letting her orgasm run its course, he gave her pussy one final assault, then withdrew his right hand and -- WHACK!!!, WHACK!!!, WHACK!!!, WHACK!!!, WHACK!!! WHACK!!! -- delivered six more blows to her already pink buttocks before returning his hand to her pussy, this time sliding all four fingers into her and pumping her for all he was worth. And then a whole new round of orgasms wracked his mother's body, causing her legs to give out, sending her crumbling to her knees on the floor with her head and chest leaning against the side of the island and her hands desperately grasping the edge of the counter-top.

It wasn't until the last of her orgasmic shivers began to fade that Stuart finally backed away. Then, as a sly little smile slipped across his lips, he grabbed the bottom of his tee-shirt and pulled it over his head. Now it was his turn. And a handful of seconds later he stood completely naked behind the still slumped over body of his mother.

"Look at me," he ordered without fanfare.

His words had the desired effect, shaking his mother from her orgasmic daze. She managed one long, deep breath, then stretched her head slowly from one side to the other. And then, as rational thoughts once again began to form in her mind, she pushed herself away from the counter and, while still on her knees, turned to face her son.

Her breath caught in her chest when he first came into view. There he stood, her son and Master, standing before her in all his naked glory, wearing an erection the size of which she'd never before experienced, and a look on his face that left no doubt that the new Master of the house knew just what to do with it.

Pamela held her gaze on her son's erection for several seconds, not so much examining it as lusting for it. It took more effort than she would have thought possible to finally pull her eyes away from it, lowering them first to take in his powerful thighs and slender calves, then lifting them to wander up his tight young stomach and over his broad, muscular chest before finally coming to rest on his eyes. And chills shot through her pussy as the realization set in that, from this day forward, the gorgeous hunk of manhood before her would be her Master, and that he could -- and undoubtedly would -- demand far more from her than anyone had ever asked before. And a low, guttural groan eased from her throat as the hunger reawakened in her pussy. And almost without realizing it, she repositioned herself on her hands and knees and began slowly crawling towards the young man she now served, making certain her eyes never strayed from the engorged piece of manhood before her.

Stuart looked down at the woman he used to call Mother, watching as she made her way towards him on all fours, crawling like the hungry, desperate animal she'd become. He tried to keep a stoic expression on his face, to somehow suppress the grin that was trying to cross his lips. But in hindsight, it was no wonder he was unsuccessful. After all, that was the moment when the last shreds of doubt fell by the wayside. The slut-toy groveling before him was his, and she would be for as long as he chose to keep her. And this time, the body that shivered with barely controlled lust was his.

Pamela came to a stop at her son's feet, her eyes barely a foot in front of and a few inches below her goal. She raised her eyes to his briefly, then lowered them back to his center. And then she lifted her right hand from the floor and reached for her prize.

"Aarrrgghhhh," she cried when Stuart's hand grabbed hold of her wrist and twisted it away.

But Stuart only shook his head and snickered. "That's not exactly what I had in mind, Pammy," he teased. Then he tossed her hand to the side. "Now, unless you want another spanking, I suggest you turn around and make like a good little slut-toy. Understand?"

Pamela lowered her right hand back to the floor and then, after putting on the most wanton, lustful look she could manage, looked up at her son and said the words that would take their game to yet another level.

"What if Pammy likes getting spanked?" she purred playfully.

In response, Stuart bent over, grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted it to the side. "The trouble is, a spanking won't be your only punishment." Then he released her hair, straightened himself up, slid his hand over his cock and began stroking it with long, gentle strokes. "I trust I'm making myself clear, Mother."

It took every ounce of energy Pamela had to tear her eyes away from her son's cock and the hand that was gently stroking it. "Very clear, Master." Then, without further instruction, she turned around so her back was towards him, spread her knees apart and lowered her head and shoulders to the floor. Then she reached behind herself, grabbed hold of her butt-cheeks and spread them even wider than they were already spread.

"Is this better, Master?" she cooed, getting more into her new role with each passing second.

As Stuart looked down at his mother's ass, perched before him so invitingly, he couldn't help notice the transformation that had overtaken her in just a few short minutes; couldn't help noticing how the uncertain, frightened woman he'd first toyed with had suddenly turned into the playful, lust-filled animal now prostrated before him. It was a transformation similar to the one Kara had gone through, only with Kara it had taken weeks, while with his mother it took less than thirty minutes. And a smile crossed his face at he thought about all the possibilities their new situation presented. Then he shook his head from side to side, pulled his mind from the fantasy it was threatening to drift into and refocused on the matter at hand.

"Yes, slut-toy. That's better." Then he dropped to his knees behind her, slid his hand over her pussy and gave it a couple of soft little pats. "Much better, indeed." And then, with no further foreplay, he withdrew his hand, positioned his cock at the gates of her womanhood and rammed it home.

If either Master or slut-toy suffered any delusions that their first act of love would be a slow, tender and passionate act that would cement their relationship as lovers, they were dashed in less time than it took the lust-filled animalistic howl that flew from Pamela's throat to fill the room.

Pamela responded to her son's attack quickly, pulling her hands from her butt-cheeks and pushing herself up from the floor, even as she was shoving her pussy back onto her Master's attacking cock. But Stuart countered by placing his hand on her back and shoving her head and shoulders back to the floor, then holding her there as he thrust himself into her with a hunger he'd never before felt; not with Amy, not with Kara, not with anyone.