“How much longer do I have to keep doing this” That’s what I always think, when I hear my beeper go off and see one of the all too familiar phone numbers flash across the screen. I know all too well whose number that is and exactly what it means. I go into my bedroom and begin to strip off my clothes, beginning with the russet silk blouse, I think back to the day that led me to this moment.

It was so hot this past summer. I spent nearly every hot afternoon out by the pool sunning myself, with frequent dips into the cool water that felt so soothing against my richly tanned skin. On one of those afternoons, as I lay in the hot afternoon sun I was only slightly surprised when a shadow crept over me. Opening my eyes, I saw that it was my teenaged son David, looking down at me with his characteristic smirking smile. Crouching down beside my lounge chair, he began to stroke my leg, his hand tickling my soft skin, creeping higher and higher on my leg. I can imagine the shock on my face, as his hand slid up the curve of my barely covered ass. Before I could jump up, that same hand was pressing into the small of my back and I heard him say the words that have haunted me throughout the long months since.

“I know what you’ve been doing this summer, Mom. My friends and I saw you and Mr. Parker in his bedroom last week. We were cutting through his yard and saw you and him naked, hot and sweaty on his bed. We saw it all through the blinds. We saw you suck his fat hard cock, and then we saw him fuck your dripping cunt. We saw it all, Mom. We could even hear how you moaned and screamed out for him to fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.”

I shifted on the chaise lounge, my heart pounding, as I tried to rise. His hand moved quickly, capturing one of my heavy tits in his palm, fingers pressing cruelly into the thick meat it. I tried to protest, to defend myself, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. Gripping my breast harshly, he snickered. “ It’s ok Mom, I won’t tell Dad, unless……..

One look at his face told me exactly what he meant by those sinister words.

“No, please son, it’s all a mistake. I’ll never do it again, I promise!” I whispered, with tears stinging my eyes.

“Oh but you will, Mom. You’ll keep right on fucking Mr. Parker. Not only will you fuck him, but you are going to fuck me and all of my friends too!”

The shame of it all floods my mind even today, as I continue stripping, sliding my skirt down and off, removing my bra and panties, but leaving the silky stockings and garter belt. I know what is expected of me now. My face still flames with embarrassment as I remember how he tugged down his zipper right there by the pool and pressed his swelling cock against my lips. I sucked him deep into my mouth, tasting his young hard meat because I had no choice. I thought of how after he pumped my mouth full of his jizz, he pulled me into the house, ripped off my bikini bottoms and bent me face down over the kitchen table to shove his hard cock into my cunt. I especially remember how horrified I was when he taunted me because my pussy was engorged and dripping from the humiliation of being caught and used by my very own son!

Over the next few days, I was forced to suck cock after cock, whenever he brought his friends over. He watched me, that cruel haunting smirk on his face as the boys took turns shoving their hard young dicks into my pussy and my tight ass.  Days turned into weeks, and though I prayed it would stop, it didn’t. David seemed to delight in finding new ways for his friends and him to humiliate me.   He gave me this damned beeper, commanding me to keep it with me at all times. Whenever it goes off, I know what I have to do, if I want him to keep my dirty little secret.

So that’s what I do. Wherever I am, whatever I am doing, when that beeper chirps, I make my excuses and go directly home. I have 30 minutes to be ready. “I don’t’ have a choice,” I tell myself as I lay down on the bed, naked except for the garters and stocking. “ I have to do what they tell me to do!”

My face is flushed with embarrassment and shame. Or is it? Yes, I am so very humiliated from being turned into my son’s very own personal whore. “The really nasty thing though,” I think as I begin to finger my wet pink slut hole, waiting for David to come and use me again, “ is that I love it, and they all know it. They’ll never let me stop now.”

Call me, and I’ll share with you some of the nasty humiliations that my son and his friends * force* upon me, or perhaps, you too want to call and make me do slutty whorish things for you!