(As I'm sure you are aware, this story is pure fantasy and not an endorsement of such behavior)
Mary opened the door to Bobby’s room. He had run out in a rush. She smiled. Typical 14 year old, she thought. His room was a wreck. Mary made the bed and as she bent to tuck in the sheets, her hand brushed a large manila envelope.
It didn’t look like hidden school papers, and it didn’t seem especially private either. She shook out its contents. Pages and pages of drawings – Bobby had been producing his own pornography. Mary giggled. They were quite good. All large breasted women in varying poses as if they were studies. Most were smoking or lighting cigarettes.
Here I’ve cut down to two or 3 a day and I find out smoking women are a turn on to my … to boys. She couldn’t let herself finish the last thought. A little flutter went though her. Then she noticed another envelope with the drawings. Mary opened this. More drawings. Mary could tell these were meant to be finished works. Some were in colored pencil.
Mary’s libido had been aroused. She glanced into Bobby’s mirror. Her face was flushed. She turned to catch a profile and pressed her breasts. Thank you, Dr. Silicone. Her 35th birthday present. Mary hadn’t fooled around with the operation. If she was going to have the boobs done, she wanted them done right.
So Bobby likes smokers with big tits. She forced the thought away. Then Mary gasped. The third drawing showed a woman with milk trickling down her breasts, smiling, exhaling smoke – and holding the lit cigarette to the face of a small child. The child’s face was screwed up in obvious pain and Bobby had drawn dozens of burn marks on his face. Mary turned the sheet. The next showed the same pair – this time the child’s eyes looked burnt and cigarettes were jammed up his nostrils. Mary felt her heart beat. The garage door slammed. Mary shoved the drawings back into the envelope and tucked it in her blouse. Then she shoved the main envelope and its drawings back beneath the bed. Mary hurried out of Bobby’s room.
That night, while her husband slept, Mary’s mind raced. Thoughts came and she pushed them away. The picture of the child abuse was obviously sexually arousing to her son. What should she do? Should she show them the John? A counselor? Maybe she should throw them away, put them back? Why did she take them?
But Mary knew why she took the drawings. They had had an enormous effect on her – sexually. She had been aroused. Mary gently lifted her covers and crept from the room. She went to the kitchen cupboard where she’d hidden the envelope and took a pack of cigarettes from her purse. Mary retreated to the family room and closed the door. She lit a cigarette and opened the envelope. Already she was aroused. She sat in a recliner and opened her gown. Her nipples swelled.
The suffering little boy greeted her again. The realism of the boy’s pain and the woman’s erotic glee was amazing. A caption flashed to her: NO, MOMMY! Mary shook her head, smiled, took another drag from her cigarette, and began to page through the drawings.
All were pictures of torturing children. Mary’s breasts ached and she fondled them while staring. The ones that truly amazed her was a series of a pre-teen girl suffering and ultimately dying at the hands of a gorgeous blond and what seemed at first to be her teenage daughter.
The pretty pre-teen was tied to a ceiling beam. While the teenager pushed dozens of long pins into the girl’s budding nipples, stomach, genitals, and armpits, the gorgeous blond woman alternately burnt the girl with lit cigarettes and a long butane lighter. The last frame showed the child screeching in agony. Her face a smoking ruin of peeling, blackened flesh. Her two torturers laughed as they held torches to the child’s legs.
Mary had been wishing she had a vibrator. She lightly tickled her clit, her juices slickened her fingers. Her nipples were tipped with pearls of milk – a sex induced hormone pill side effect. She paused to light her third Virginia Slim when, in a glance back at the first picture, something clicked in her head.
The little girl looked just like Julie, the little seventh grader down the block – same hair, same face. And the woman …
“That’s me!” she said with a smoking hiss. She had even seen photos of herself with that very same hairstyle and facial expressions. The fantasy was too real. What should she do? This was bad; this was …
“Bobby!” she said. The teenage daughter with her long hair and perky boobs had distracted attention from the face. A closer study revealed a feminized Bobby. The girl’s panties hid the genital area – was that a bulge?
Mary smoked her cigarette and she worried, but couldn’t think of anything to do. She paged though the series again. The erotic power over her was real. Captions loomed in her mind. Mary gave in to the power. As she masturbated, she allowed herself to caption in pencil numerous of the scenes in the envelope – but none of the Julie series.
Mary felt her pussy churn as she wrote on Bobby’s pictures:
No, mommy! / We’re just starting,dear.
I just love my little human ashtray.
Now what? She couldn’t show them to anyone. She couldn’t bear to throw them out. Put them back? Let Bobby find them? Then what?
Mary stood and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was jumbled. With a little make up … she opened her gown to let one siliconed breast peak though. She lit a cigarette and tried posing. You are a sexy bitch. Bobby would … What? Cum at the sight? Probably. But he wanted to be a girl, it seemed from the drawings.
Maybe not. Maybe he wanted to be like Mommy. Maybe the timing of her boob operation with his puberty had stimulated his obsession. Maybe he wanted an operation like Mommy’s. That could be arranged.
Mary jolted out of her reverie. What are you thinking? And then what? Kidnap little girls to torture with my son? Her pussy twitched. Well, we’ll just put them back. Let him see my captions.
Days passed. Then on Saturday morning, Bobby entered the kitchen very quietly. He barely said anything. Throughout the day he kept sneaking glances at her. His friends called and he declined invitations. Occasionally Mary stared back, and Bobby blushed.
Well, girl. Give him something to look at. Mary freshened her makeup and chose some old jeans and a white, paint-splattered tee shirt. The bra is the trick. She took a very filmy underwire from her drawer. It revealed the bulge of her nipples through its thin lace. Under the tight tee shirt her nipples formed dark bulges. You sexy bitch.
Mary loosely pinned up her hair and grabbed a pack of Virginia Slims, which she set in full view on the kitchen counter. She made a show of cleaning out cupboards. Sweat dampened her shirt and it clung even more tightly. Bobby sat in front of the TV, but he watched her. Mary could feel his eyes on her body.
Finally at noon, Mary stopped. She struck a pose she had seen in his drawings and lit a cigarette. “Bobby, dear. Come on in for lunch. I’ve set out some sandwiches.”
Bobby quietly walked in. Was that a bulge? Mary stretched over to get some mustard from the counter. This move tightened the damp tee shirt even more to show off her heavy breasts. She tapped some ashes into an ashtray.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m dieting. These help” – she gestured with the cigarette. “I’ll put it out.”
“No. That’s ok, Mom.”
“It speaks! Thank you, dear. You’re awfully quiet today. Something wrong?”
Bobby shook his head.
“Come on, you’re never this quiet.” Mary let the cigarette dangle for a moment as some of his pictures had shown.
Bobby blushed. “Mom, did you … did you find something in my room?”
“Your drawings?” He nodded and looked down. “Yes, dear. They were very well done. So realistic. You could sell some of them.”
“You liked some of them?” he looked up.
“All of them, dear. I liked all of them.” She exhaled a cloud and jabbed out her cigarette . “I really liked them, if you know what I mean.”
“No,” he said, looks of surprise, fear, joy alternating on his face.
“No?” Mary blurted, feigning anger. Such naivete! “Why do you draw them? Devote so much time to them?”
“I don’t know. I guess I like to -- I don’t know why.”
“Yes you do. When you draw, you feel sexy, right? I know, I felt sexy, really sexy, looking at them.”
“Is it normal to like to see pictures like that, Mom? Am I weird?”
“Well, to be honest, dear, I wouldn’t be a good judge of that. You are my son. I liked to look at them. Am I weird? And there are internet sites that show stuff like that. What is weird is that we are talking about it, mother and son. And we both enjoy it. Did you like my captions?”
“Yeah, they were perfect!” Bobby was loosening.
“Did they make you hard?” Mary tapped out another Virginia Slim.
“Well,” she lit the cigarette. “I really enjoyed myself when I wrote them. Masturbation is a glorious thing.”
“You masturbated to my pictures?”
“And my captions.” Mary nodded. “Maybe we could work together on some. I’ll bet we could really come up with some terrible torture. You draw and I’ll caption. Your dad won’t be home until tomorrow.”
“Really. Oh, Mom … oh I …”
“Well, go get changed. We can’t masturbate unless we are wearing, or not wearing, the right clothes. The first thing we have to do is finish those scenes with Julie.”
“You know that?” Bobby blurted.
“Of course. You’re such a good artist, it looked just like her. And me. And you.” Mary leaned forward and pinched Bobby’s nipple through his shirt. He was stunned. “Tell you what, I’ll bring you some of my pretty panties to wear. I’m afraid my bras won’t fit.”
Kinky Mom part 2
They sat across the table. Each in heaven – each designing a bit of hell. Mary had given Bobby a frilly teddy and a pair of cut out panties. His erection twitched at the touch of the teddy’s frills. Mary wore a sheer black robe and a half bra. A soft panty allowed her fingers access.
Between them lay Bobby’s pictures.
“We need her to show more pain here. Arch her back. And how about the next one shows me holding a glowing poker, showing it to her, you know, maybe lighting a cigarette. And the one after that I put it in her pussy.”
“Oh, wow, Mom! That’s great! What’ll you have her say?”
“Nothing but scream – NO – gag her. And I’ll say, “Need a light little bitch?”
Both Mary and Bobby cummed in front of each other several times. Some of the drawings were spotted with Bobby’s cum, and one drawing in particular needed re-done – Mary’s milk had puddled on it.
“Mom? Is that milk?”
“Yes, dear, it is. When I’m turned on like this, my breasts fill. I suck them to relieve the pressure. It feels so good.” Mary suckled her own breasts.
“Mom, could I …” Bobby’s voice trailed off.
“No, dear, you can not. We are just pretending here. We’re pretending you’re a girl. We’re pretending to torture those girls in your pictures.”
Bobby accepted Mary’s words. After another hour, they parted. The following evening, Mary found 3 drawings in her underwear drawer.
The first showed Bobby as he looked yesterday, but licking his mother’s tits, his erection touching her swollen cunt.
The second showed Mary exhaling smoke, squeezing her tits, which squirted milk, and Bobby licking her pussy. Oooh.
The third showed Bobby, now a hermaphrodite, dove fucking Mary as Mary tortured Julie.
“I saw your new pictures, Bobby . Very nice. Very nice. Do you really want boobs?”
“Yes, Mommy. When you got your big ones, I wanted some too. Wouldn’t it feel good to rub …”
“Yes, dear. It would be delicious. I’ll tell you what. We’ll try some pills for you. You’re at a good age. If they help, and you don’t lose your hard-ons, we’ll see.”
Mary couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was using her son, maybe changing him irreversibly, all for her sexual pleasure. And that thought thrilled her even more. He was willingly going to become her sex slave.
Two months passed. No more masturbation sessions together. No more shared pictures. But one afternoon, Bobby came to her and raised his shirt. Mary smiled. His nipples were swollen and very large. His breasts had a pre-teen look. He almost needed a bra.
“Wow, we have boobies.” Mary said. “Another month should tell the tale, dear.”
A month more than told the tale. Bobby had actually developed breasts. His face had softened, too. Mary strode up behind her son who stared at himself in a full length mirror and played with his huge erection. She lit cigarette and laughed when he cummed onto the mirror. “So, Mommy still turns you on. Well, we are going to have to celebrate. We have a date this weekend at our summer cabin.. Your dad is going to Germany for 8 months. We’ll have all the time in the world.”
But Thursday evening, the neighborhood turned into a blue flashing chaos. Little Julie had disappeared. Her mother was frantic. News reporters and police scoured the blocks around them.
“Do you know anything, Bobby?” Mary smiled.
“Just kidding, dear. We’ll be away from all this tomorrow.”
Friday found Mary and Bobby pulling into the summer cabin deep in the mountains. It was miles from the next house. Mary opened the door for Bobby who had arms full of art equipment.
But for newly breasted Bobby, Mary had more realistic recreation planned.
“Go get on your new outfit, Bobby. We’ll see if the wonderbra really gives you cleavage, then come down to the basement. Mommy has a surprise.”
Bobby stared at himself. The bra was wonderful. His dick lifted the nighty. But what really surprised him was his Mother laughing in the basement and talking as if to someone who was not talking back.
“Surprise!” Mary said and took Bobby’s hand. There hanging by handcuffed wrists was a gagged, naked Julie.
“Mom, is that …?”
“Yes, dear. When you wanted to really touch me, really have boobs, I realized we had to really have fun. I bought Julie from her Mom. She knows all about this. In fact, we’re going to videotape it for her.”
“You bought her?”
“Her mother and I have had our occasional flings. You’ve got to admit, she’s good looking and she is a great actress. All that crying for the TV cameras. Here, look what we have.” Mary gestured to packs of long needles, propane torches and butane lighters, long pliers, probes, and iron rods. “Just like in your drawings.”
Bobby was still startled. His erection sagged. But Mary knew how to stir him. “Give me a light, little girl,” she commanded. Bobby lit his mother’s cigarette. She exhaled a cloud of smoke into Julie’s face and touched the lit tip of her cigarette to the girl’s arm. Julie writhed in pain. Mary looked to her son. He stood wide-eyed.
“We can really …” His sentence trailed off, but his erection bloomed again.
“We can really touch – yes. I’d love for you to drink my milk. We can really torture Julie. Yes—she’s all ours. Her mother expects a tape of her being tortured to death.”
“Well, dear. We wouldn’t want a witness and since we have no limits, we can have a field day.”
“Here, dear,” Mary handed Bobby a long pin. “Stick that in her boob, then …” Mary opened her robe enough to reveal one breast, “come and drink Mommy’s milk.”
Bobby took the pin and gently pressed it to Julie’s little breast. Julie squirmed. He pushed it in ¼ inch and looked to Mary. Mary giggled. Bobby smiled, twisted the needle to the side and slowly pushed it through Julie’s breast behind the nipple and out the other side.
“That’s my girl. Come lick.”
Bobby moved to his mother. His tongue darted to touch her nipple. Instantly a drop of milk appeared. He licked that off. Mary moaned and held her breast to the boy’s mouth. Bobby eagerly licked up her breast and kissed her swollen nipple. His erection rubbed her thigh.
“Suck, dear,” Mary cooed. As the boy suckled at her breast, Mary wiggled her hips enough so that the head of Bobby’s penis pressed the lips of her vagina. With a slight movement, she could feel it’s slickened head warm against her clit.
Julie squirmed in terror. Her motions attracted both tormentors.
“Julie’s lonely, Mommy.”
“Yes, dear. She needs our attention. We were being selfish.”
“Can we take off her gag?”
“Sure. I’d love to hear her, dear. But she might be awfully loud.”
“Nobody’ll hear her?”
“No, dear. Nobody but us.”
Mary undid the girl’s gag. After a few gasps, Julie begged. “Mrs. Smith. What’s happening? Why am I here? Why did you hurt me?”
“We thought it would be fun” Mary smiled, lighting another cigarette and handing another pin to Bobby. “When I hand you a pin, I want you to put it into Julie at the spot you want to touch Mommy with your penis.”
“I want to go home! I want to go back to my mommy e e e e !” Bobby had pushed the pin right into her nipple.
”Your mommy? Why, Julie, you can talk to your mommy. She knows we have you. She knows we are going to hurt you. See the camera? We’re taping this for her to watch.” Mary laughed at Julie’s change of expression. “She knows, Babs,” Mary spoke to the camera. “All those tantrums, spoiled vacations – you’ll be able to watch this over and over.”
Mary turned to the horrified Julie and lifted her face to the camera. “Your mother will have orgasm after orgasm watching this.. You don’t realize what a turn-on this is already, knowing we’re going to torture you to death. To death, dear.” Mary took her cigarette and held it close to Julie’s left eye. Julie strained to move away but, finally, the glowing tip seared her clamped eye-lid. Mary let the cigarette go. It stuck for a few seconds, still burning the blistering lid, finally to be shaken of by Julie’s thrashing.
“Well, Bobby, where else would you like to touch me with that hot little penis?” And as Mary watched, her little boy/girl’s imagination took over. Mary had her sex-slave. She knew after this, the boy would do anything. Erotic worlds opened in Mary’s mind as she and Bobby played.
And their toy screamed and screamed and screamed.
When Bobby had finished with his pins, Mary rose languidly and walked up to her she-son. Julie moaned in agony as Mary flicked one after another of the pins Bobby had inserted.
“So you like to touch your penis to my pussy, I see.” Mary laughed as she ran her finger across the pins stitching through Julie’s labia. The girl screeched. The pins in her lips dripped saliva and blood. “And Mommy’s mouth, huh. Well, you’ll have to be a really good girl and please me to do that. We’re getting into taboo areas here.” Mother and she-son laughed.
“So now it’s my turn to play with Julie and you can watch, dear. I’ll burn her everywhere I want you to kiss me. Try not to cum, son. This is going to be just like your drawings. Mommy is going to smoke and Julie is, …well, Julie’s going to smoke, too.”
Mary lit a cigarette and smiled at Bobby who was squeezing his new breasts. Mary took her long butane lighter and held to the Julie’s pin-punctured lips. The pins reddened as Mary played her flame around the child’s mouth, nose, and cheeks. Julie could barely breathe from the smoke of her own tortured flesh. Her screams were mostly coughs and gasps. “Hey, Babs, you won’t be hearing the little bitch’s whining little mouth anymore,” Mary said to the camera.
“Well, Bobby. There are lots of places I want to feel your lips and tongue. Of course my boobs need you.” And she took her cigarette and held it to Julie’s nipple. Then Mary clicked on the lighter, made an adjustment to it, and played a 4 inch flame on the child’s little tits. Her tit flesh blistered and blackened as Mary squeezed her own glorious mammary with her free hand. She looked to Bobby. His erection was larger than she’d ever seen it. Obviously he wasn’t touching it, because it was oozing pre-cum. The juice trickled from the swollen red glans and dripped to the floor. She thought to herself, once he is well trained that juice won’t be wasted. He’ll have plenty reserve to lubricate Mommy’s cunt and ass.
“And my ass needs your tongue. I’ll need the soldering iron for this.” Mary strode away from the sobbing child and bounced her tits for her she-son as she went for the electric soldering iron. Bobby stroked his thighs and cupped his balls. He was not going to touch his dick. He knew it would explode. Mommy didn’t want him to cum, and he wouldn’t.
Mary returned to Julie and let the iron rest lightly on the girls nose for a moment. “Hot, huh?” Mary laughed to the screeching girl. “Wait until you feel it up your ass.” And Mary reached around behind the girl and gradually pushed the red tip of the iron into Julie’s rectum. Julie’s screams renewed. Mary left the iron in place and strode over to her she-son. “Would you give me a light, dear. I need to relax a bit. My pussy is in a real state.” She exhaled and cupped her breast with the hand holding her cigarette . “Suck Mommy’s tits, son. My tits are swelling.”
Mary smoked as her son suckled her hot milk and they both watched Julie in the throes of agony.
Mary stood and put her arm around Bobby’s waist. “Lets play with her together. I’ve brought a couple propane torches. Mary guided her son to the table. “They can be set for a sharp flame or a big flame. Set yours for a big flame to do her pussy. I’ll set mine sharp for her face and eyes.” Bobby’s dick began pumping cum the moment he understood he was going to see his mother burn out Julie’s eyes.
“That’s ok, dear. There is lots more where that came from. How could you not be hard when you have me?” Bobby’s dick twitched from the last of the orgasm but showed no sign of softening. This is so good, Mary thought, watching her son’s new boobs jiggle as he walked with her to their victim. Mary jerked the iron from Julie’s ass and threw it on the floor.
“After you, dear,” Mary said, motioning to Julie’s cunt with her propane torch. Bobby reached down and held the flame to the girl’s pussy. Mary watched, fingering herself as Julie’s pubes took flame, her pinned labia sizzled and cooked, her thighs blackened. The girls screams echoed around mother and son.
Then Mary stepped behind Bobby and allowed her breasts to press his back. She pushed her pussy to his butt. She reached over his shoulder with her torch and played it across Julie’s face. The skin was already terribly disfigured around the mouth. Now it cooked and almost seem to melt as blisters formed, burst, and blackened. Mary reached with her free hand for Bobby’s dick and stroked it as she raised her torch to Julie’s eyes. The eyelids blackened and burnt away. The eyebrows disappeared in a scorching flame. Julie’s eyeballs were exposed. She had stopped screaming, but she was still absolutely conscious of what was happening. Her eyes flicked in terror but the lids were gone and could not protect. Mary held the torch to the girl’s left eye. It burned and boiled within it’s socket.
“Mommy, maybe you should leave her other one,” Bobby said. Mary stepped back.
“Why?” she was puzzled.
“So,” Bobby reached to touch his mother’s breast but she recoiled, “so she’ll be able to watch us enjoying watching her.” Mary orgasmed just as her she-son had done at the trigger of an idea. She reached forward and pulled his head to her breasts and squeezed them around his face, bathing him in her milk.
“Oh, you bad, bad girl,” Mary said. “You and I are going to have wonderful times. We are going to have to finish Julie soon so she doesn’t die of shock. But then we’ll have all week to draw, write, and watch the tape. And do other things, too.”
They turned back to Julie. There was little left of her face that was distinguishable as the little 7th grade girl from down the block. One eye rolled in a burnt socket, trying to blink by squinting since the eyelid was gone. “I’ve brought just the thing. She needs a necklace.” Mary reached over to the table and lifted what looked to be a stuffed collar. “It’s a woven asbestos collar filled with kerosene soaked wool and covered in rubber cement. It’s going to burn hot for at least ten minutes. We can just sit back and watch.”
“This is the end, Julie. Your mom is going to love this tape. Long after your gone, she’ll be fingering herself watching this.” Mary wrapped the necklace around Julie’s neck and tied it. “Need a light?” and Mary lit a cigarette and touched the flame to the necklace. It took flame and Mary took her she-son’s hand and led him to the couch. As they fondled each other, they watched the girl’s hair burst into flame. Soon her entire head was boiling in fire. Julie somehow renewed her ability to scream. Each time she screamed the exhale of her breath spurted fire. Her young, mutilated body shook and she strained at the bonds that held her. From time to time, she moved enough for her face to be exposed.
“Oh, dear, look,” Mary cooed to her son in a smokey whisper as he nuzzled her belly. “Look at her face.” Bobby laughed at the black death’s head, its jaw hanging loose, its bones and teeth blackening around her struggling tongue. Mary took a drag on her cigarette so Bobby could watch and gave her she-son and evil smile, then looked to the camera and pointed back to Julie's smoldering head. “There you go, Babs. I hope you enjoy watching your daughter's suffering. Now she's got a face only a mother could love.”
Copyright 2012. Merlyn. All rights Reserved