Lockdown – Chapter 4
I felt exhilarated and worried when I slid into bed last night. My body fairly hummed at what had transpired after dinner between me and Jax. It took me back to when he moved in with me. He was six when he moved in with me and over the first few years of living together, we had been incredibly close. He would lie in my bed in just his underwear and I’d tickle him until he would nearly pee. I felt like I had lost something when he stopped wanting to do that around the fifth grade. Of course, he had accidentally peed himself that time.
Tickling my son last night had felt so good. I had felt the years melt away. But was that a lie? The years really hadn’t fallen away. When I had straddled him and tickled him mercilessly, there had been a constant reminder my little boy wasn’t so little anymore. I did my best to ignore the bulge in his pajamas, but even though I never mentioned it, forgetting about it was another matter.
Then, when he tickled me back, Jax’s fingers on my skin made me tingle all over, and sent me back thirteen years.
As my memory returned to that stormy Halloween night, my hands pushed my panties down. I wanted nothing between my fingers and my pussy.
Closing my eyes, I was back in the bathroom with Chase. The dog chain hung between my small boobs, still attached to the leather collar. We stood facing each other on the small rug beside the tub. I was on fire, wanting more of Chase. I gave him the chain, “Your will, Master.”
While there was doubt and uncertainty in his eyes, there was also something else. I hoped that something else would guide his next action. “Um, slave, would you please dry me off?”
I took a towel and turned him away from me so I could focus on his back. But I had more fun rubbing the towel on his butt before spinning him around. I knelt and as gently as possible, I dried the few lonely strands of pubic hair off and then held his soft ball sack in my hands. Aside from the small patch of pubic hair just above the base of his penis, he was smooth. I finished toweling off his hair.
Once finished, I said, “Does it meet Master’s satisfaction?”
Chase was as erect as he had been in the shower. He flushed as he nodded, “Yeah, Dre. That felt nice. I mean, slave. You did well. But I can’t have you getting the rest of the house wet. Stand there while I make sure you’re dry.”
He took the towel and toweled my little boobs down. I felt a little current of something run from my boobs down to between my legs. A few seconds later, Chase knelt and dabbed the towel against my pubic hair. I wished he had done more than just dab at my hidden space. Instead, he spun me around and finished by drying my back.
Then, he took the chain and pulled me back into his bedroom. Before he could figure out what to say next, his cell phone lit up as a melody erupted from its speakers. Chase dropped the chain and jumped in surprise. Still naked, he grabbed the phone and swiped at it, “Oh, hi mom.”
“No, we almost made it home before it opened up on us.
“Yeah, she’s in the bathroom now. When do you think you’ll be home?”
“Oh? Yeah. You did. That’s cool. When she gets out, I’ll have Dre call her parents.”
When he killed the call, Chase grinned. “Mom’s stuck at the church. Said she’ll be home later tonight when the storm lets up.”
That meant we had a few more hours to ourselves. “Why do I need to call my parents?”
Another grin, “Mom talked to your mom, and neither one of them wants to drive across town to take you home. So, you’re supposed to stay over tonight.”
My smile matched his own, and I snagged the phone and called my mom. It was even faster than his mom’s call. Mom told me to behave and that they’d swing by the next day to pick me up.
Once I ended the call, I stepped over next to Chase and handed him the chain, “Master, how may I serve you?”
Chase grinned, “Damn, Dre. You’re really messing with my mind. And I’m having so much fun.”
I just offered a small, subservient smile, “Master, what is your command?”
Sweet Chase. Gay Chase. He’d told me before that girls confused him, and that was part of why he enjoyed being with boys over girls. When I had asked why he and I were good friends, he’d told me I wasn’t like the other girls. That night as the storm raged outside, I wanted that lovely boy to dominate me. I was his. And if I wasn’t as confusing to him as other girls, I hoped he would figure out how to take me.
His eyes softened. “I don’t really know what to do, Dre. Don’t just do something because I’m telling you to. Okay?”
I nodded back, but I had no intention of telling him no. I needed him over me.
“Come over here, Slave girl,” He commanded with a little more confidence than he’d had a moment before.
I got up close, inside his personal space. “Yes, Master?”
His penis was so close to my pubic mound, I rocked forward until our bodies touched. He said, “Slave, my dick requires your attention. What can you do to help?”
My eyes grew round, and I grinned. I could hardly believe my luck. I knelt and took his shaft in my hand. I’d only seen videos about what came next. I leaned forward and licked his flared head, making him gasp. Then, my tongue lapped at a little bit of clear liquid that appeared on his piss slit. It was tasteless, which suited me just fine.
Then, I opened my mouth and stuck his glans in my mouth and sucked on it, using my tongue to stimulate the tip of his erection.
He moaned, rocking forward, sliding about half of his erection into my mouth. I liked the rugged, loose skin that circled the base of his glans and I sucked on him even as I took the rest of him into my mouth. The handful of lonely strands of pubic hair tickled my upper lip right as the tip of his dick touched my tonsils. I swallowed hard as I fought against my gag reflex. It was just enough for me to adjust myself to him filling my mouth.
And then I bobbed back and forth, feeling his entire shaft slide through my lips. Even though I had never tried to give a boy a blow-job before, there was something almost effortless in sucking on Chase. After a few minutes, this lovely boy, the object of my affection, thrust his hips forward and back, as he moaned, “Ah, fuck, Dre. I’m close. Watch out.”
I redoubled my suction on his penis. Then the most amazing thing happened. His slightly more than four inches seemed to expand, becoming even harder. Then, he rocked forward, with his dick going as deep into my mouth as possible, he shuddered and something hot and wet splattered my tongue and the back of my throat. It was salty with just a hint of something sweet mixed in. The second blast left me swallowing Chase’s seed.
When I pulled back, he giggled and used his finger to wipe a bit of his jizz from my lips. “Very well done, slave girl.”
My eyes fluttered open. I was back in my bed. Jax was down the hall, and my finger plunged in and out of my vagina. My other hand worked my clit. I felt the orgasm rising inside me. The image of Chase standing with his dick waving in front of me held in my mind until it didn’t. I changed from my index finger to my middle finger massaging my clit. When I tried to recall Chase’s features, all I could see were Jax’s. I imagined him grabbing my tits as we played the tickle game. And then overcome with lust, I orgasmed, coating my fingers with even more juice.
I pulled my panties off and pulled my covers up to my neck. Usually, after an orgasm like that, my pussy was satisfied. Not this time. I was still horny. But more than that, I was exhausted. I closed my eyes, even as I slept in the nude for the first time in thirteen years, and drifted off to sleep.
I lay on my bed, confused, happy, and horny. My fingers had grazed my mom’s boob when we had been tickling each other. I had touched a girl’s boob! The idea left my erection straining, and after too long, I pulled my pajamas off and threw them on the floor along with my underwear.
I wrapped my fingers around my little pole and grappled with the confusion, even as I settled in to a rhythmic stroke. While it was true, I loved my mom completely and utterly; it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I tried to imagine Kim standing in front of me, flashing me her little tits. Instead, I saw my mom lifting her shirt and flashing boobs that weren’t all that much larger.
I came right then. My dick spasmed as I stroked. I was stunned at my body’s reaction. I hadn’t been jacking off even thirty seconds and there I was, shuddering under the most intense orgasm in my twelve years. I kept stroking it, letting the spasms crash over me with earth-shattering tingling, until I felt myself slipping away. I let go of my dick and felt the wild spasming ease off until I lay there gasping in ragged breaths. I glanced down at my erection, still pointing toward me. Then I noticed something. A small clear bead emerged from where I normally pissed. The drop was no bigger than a drop of rain, and when I touched it, a small bit got on my finger. Rubbing it, I found the substance slick to my touch. Because there was so little of it, the slickness went away within a few seconds.
My eyes were huge. I had actually cummed. Excited about it, and hoping to see it again, I gripped my erection and started masturbating again. Thrilled at the first sign of puberty, I didn’t even bother with fantasizing about Kim. Instead, I imagined my mom standing in front of me, slowly stripping her clothes off. In my mind’s eye, she was naked when the tingling grew more pronounced and I felt that marvelous sensation building inside me.
My orgasm hit like a wave crashing onto a sandy beach. I strained to keep my eyes open, focused on my dick even as my fingers kept on stroking it. Every spasm seemed stronger than the one before, and even though the magical elixir hadn’t appeared after a couple of minutes, my flying hand took me behind my mind’s ability to process my dry orgasms and things faded to black.
The next morning, I was cold when I woke up. When I realized I had slept naked above my sheets, everything else came back from last night. The tickling game with mom and the back-to-back masturbation sessions. I glanced at my morning wood before deciding I’d rather crawl under the covers to warm up. I needed that more than I needed to pee.
It didn’t take long to get comfortable and as I warmed up, my hand went back to my erection, where I just played with it, enjoying the hint of tingles that came from my touch. I was halfway asleep again when I heard a knock at my door. I pulled my hand away and rolled onto my side, which made the tent in the sheets go away, “Yeah?”
Mom opened the door, “Good morning, sweetie. You decent?”
I couldn’t help but smile as I said, “I’m covered up, Mom.”
Between the light filtering through my blinds and the light from the hallway, I could see Mom. She wore another yoga top. Actually, it was more of an athletic tank top she had turned into a crop top at some point in the past. The straps were narrow on her shoulders, and the u-neck showed little skin. Of course, at some point, she had cut off the bottom, leaving her belly exposed. The shorts she wore, I’d seen her wear before when she went to yoga. They were a pair of loose fitting black athletic shorts. Standing in the door, her thighs were on display. I had seen her in both the shirt and shorts before. But it had never had this effect on me.
Glad I was lying on my side and my erection was hidden by the covers, I said, “You look nice this morning.”
She leaned against the door frame, “Thanks, sweetie. It’s the weekend. I wanted to be comfortable. How’d you sleep?”
Seeing how sexy Mom appeared in her clothes, I was wide awake, “Good. How about you?”
She came into the room and sat at the foot of the bed, “Well enough. I dreamed about your father some. After thirteen years, I miss him.”
“What happened to him?”
Mom sighed, a frown creasing her face. “He passed away.”
Seeing my distressed look, she added, “He was away at college when it happened. He and his boyfriend were driving home one night after a party. There was an accident, and they both died. I think you would have liked him. You’re a lot like him, you know.”
“I don’t think I’m gay, Mom.”
She reached over to me and patted my shoulder, “Not like that, Jax. You look so much like him, sometimes it’s like seeing him all over again.”
Mom’s melancholy expression had me reaching for her hand, “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Her lips curled at the ends, “It’s fine, sweetie. I rather like how you look like the boy who helped me to make you.”
I held onto her hand, “What’s the plan today? You want to hang out?”
She nodded, “Yeah. I’ve got some bread in the toaster. I figured we could have cinnamon toast. How does that sound?”
I loved it. I was about to climb out of bed when I remembered I was naked. Everything we had talked about came back from yesterday. Still, as much as I loved the new closeness, the idea of letting her see me naked made me too nervous to consider it. I said, “I need to get dressed, Mom.”
Mom’s eyes roamed over the sheets that covered me halfway up my chest, “Oh, you slept naked?”
Blushing, I nodded, “Yeah. You said it was okay. Right?”
The crimson on her cheeks reassured me, “That’s right, sweetie. I’ll give you some privacy.” With that, she stood and then leaned over me and gave me a kiss on my temple before turning and closing the door behind her.
As soon as the door closed, I grabbed my underwear from the floor and put them on. Then, thinking about the shorts Mom had on, I rummaged around in my chest of drawers until I found a pair of boxers mom had bought me from last year. I held them up to my waist and saw they should fit. Baggier and longer than the briefs, I swapped them out and then looked myself over in the mirror. The boxers looked like a pair of short shorts. The biggest difference at first glance was the flannel material of my boxers felt different from the sheer material of Mom’s athletic shorts. Of course, there was also the fly on the front of the boxers. But the fly’s fabric overlapped pretty good, and I thought a wardrobe malfunction was highly unlikely.
I found her in the kitchen, smearing butter on the toast. She glanced over at me, “Oh, I’d forgotten about those boxers. You look handsome in them.”
As we ate the sweetened toast, I swallowed a bite before asking, “Can we play a game today?”
Mom reached over and ran her fingers over my ribs, just enough to get me to smile, “Sure. You ready to be dominated by my tickling?”
Happy to see things were as we left them, I responded by tickling her exposed skin just above her hip. “Maybe. But what about Master and slave? You played it with my dad. Can we play it too?”
Mom grew red as she chuckled at my touch, “I don’t know about that, sweetie. The slave has to do anything the master orders. I mean, what would you do if I were the master and ordered you to clean your room?”
I giggled as her finger still traced my rib, “I guess I would have to clean it.”
Mom leaned in, gently tickling more of my ribs, “What if I ordered you to take a shower?”
“I’d take it, after all that’s what a slave does; obeys the master.”
Then, when her head was close to mine, “What if I ordered you to let me give you a bath? How would you handle that, sweetie?”
I saw how this game could quickly spiral out of control. My feelings were a mixture of fear, embarrassment and arousal. “Oh. Um, I guess I would let you give me a bath.”
She smiled at me, “Even if that meant seeing your little pee-pee?”
I giggled at her touches on my ribs, “Geez, Mom, It’s not that little. Yeah. I guess so. So, can we play it?”
Mom kissed my forehead and nodded, “I suppose, sweetie. Do you want to be the Master?”
Me be the master? As mom had explained things she might order me to do, I had wondered what it would be like to be the slave, subject to mom’s every whim. But as the master, I’d be in control. It could be me ordering her to pick up my room. Or order her to shower. Or even order her to let me bathe her. The thought sent a fluttering sensation through me. “Are you sure you don’t mind being the slave? How long until we switch?”
Mom shook her head, “I’ll be your slave, sweetie. A session lasts all day, unless you choose to end it early. So, maybe tomorrow you can be the slave, if you want.”
Then she stood up and gave me a deep bow, “What is your command, Master?”
With those five words, my world shifted. I was the master, lord of our little quarantined domain. A hundred thoughts invaded my mind. Most I discarded as impractical or things I lacked the boldness to say. I scanned the kitchen and saw the first order. In the deepest voice I could muster, which admittedly wasn’t very deep, given how my voice had yet to break, I said, “Slave, the table is dirty. Clean it.”
Mom dutifully bowed and cleaned up the dishes. Any other time, it would have been me bussing my own dirty dishes. But Mom happily put them in the sink. Next, I ordered her to clean the dishes and load the dishwasher. Then I had her gather all the dirty clothes from my floor and put them in the wash along with stuff from her room. Most of my pajamas and underwear were still in the dryer from the last time I had done laundry, and I ordered her to take them to my room to be put away.
I followed her back to my room. The shorts she had on were amazing, showing almost all of her shapely legs. Her top was cut high enough I saw plenty of skin between the top of her shorts and the bottom of her shirt.
She dumped the clean clothes on the bed and took a pair of my pajamas and folded them up, all the while smiling. This was simply too surreal. I said, “Um, Mom, are you sure you’re okay playing the slave?”
She grinned as she grabbed another pair of pajama bottoms, “Oh, sweetie, you wouldn’t have talked me into it if I minded.”
I felt confused about her cheerful disposition at following my commands, “Why? As the master, I’m bossing you around.”
She picked up one of my colored underwear and folded it, “Jax, if I tell you something intimately personal to me, I need you to promise that you’ll keep it between us.”
I nodded as I watched her fold another pair of underwear.
She pursed her lips, and glanced toward the door as if making sure we were truly alone, “I loved playing this game with Chase. I discovered something about myself with your dad.”
I found myself leaning forward, hanging on her every word, “I liked it when he controlled me. I know it’s crazy. I’m a woman and we’re all supposed to be liberated and independent. But the truth is, I felt more alive and free simply surrendering my will to him.”
I had never seen my mom in this light before. She was always strong for me, especially after Nana died. But as I thought back over the years, I recalled an incident here and there, where I pushed back on being told to do something only to have her do it for me.
I came over to help her with the clothes, but she gave me another bow, “Master, it’s my duty and pleasure to follow your commands.”
With that, she gently pushed me back and returned to folding the clothes. I said, “Do you really want me to order your around? Like a slave?”
She took the rest of the clothes and put them in the chest of drawers, “That’s the purpose of the game, Jax. You reminded me so much of Chase when you were ordering me about. I loved it.”
I shook my head, “My dad doesn’t sound very nice, the way you describe him telling you what to do.”
Mom shook her head and sat on the edge of my bed, “Oh, Chase was so sweet and loving. That’s the thing about the game. Outside of it, he was never a bully, and he cared a lot about my feelings as his best friend. The game was as much about stretching him, making him more assertive, as it was about me feeling the freedom of submission.”
“You think I’m like him?”
Mom nodded as I sat down beside her, “I see so much of him in you. When we first started playing the game, he was shy and uncertain. Just like you. But over time, as he realized it made us even closer as friends, he grew to like it too. Even though there was always an awkward innocence in the way he ordered me about. You know, he never stopped saying please when he gave a command.”
The way she talked about my father, I regretted I would never get to meet him. For a guy who was gay, it sounded like he and Mom were super close. I asked, “When you first started playing the game, did he order you to do anything you didn’t want to do?”
Mom leaned back on the bed, “Oh, that was thirteen years ago. Let me think. We had just come back from a Halloween party, where we actually went as a Roman master and slave. We were both dressed in these cute little togas. On the way back to his house, the skies opened up, and we got back soaked to the skin. When we got into his house, he ordered me out of the toga so that we could get them dried out.”
“Wow,” I murmured. My father had seen my mom naked from almost the very beginning. Those images from the previous night were readily recalled, and I was glad I was sitting down and wearing boxers that weren’t as tight at my briefs.
Mom rubbed my back, “So, Master, what is your next command?”
I liked her touch and wanted more of it. Yesterday’s game had been more fun than we’d ever had. “Um, slave, how about the tickle game again?”
Mom stretched out her hand until she touched my ribs and she dug her finger into a ticklish spot. I recoiled and giggled at the same time. Mom sat up and wrapped her arms around my chest in a hug. Her mouth was next to my neck as she whispered, “As you wish, Master.”
Then her fingers dug into my belly, forcing more giggles out of me as I rolled onto my side. This time, though, I was ready to fight back, at least a little. I put my hand out until I touched her exposed belly. When I pushed my fingers into her belly, Mom let loose a fit of giggles even as she worked her fingers around my belly with one hand and with her other hand tortured my ribs.
While I wanted to continue the assault on her belly, I was tearing up from giggling so hard. I pushed away, inching myself toward the headboard on my bed, trying to keep her from landing any more tickles. Mom rose onto her knees and grabbed my legs long enough to throw a knee over my legs, straddling me, and making it hard to move away. Then she scooted forward until her shorts touched my boxers. The problem for me was all the intimate tickles gave me a stiffy, and it was seriously tenting the front of my boxers.
That’s when Mom looked down and saw. She paused her tickling of my stomach and then looked at my reddening cheeks. After a moment of thought, she said, “Master, although you look to be enjoying yourself, if you would prefer, we can stop the tickle game, and do something else. I am your obedient slave.”
I felt a moment’s relief as Mom gave me an out. Only I didn’t want it. While I was incredibly nervous about her being so close to my stiffy, I also wanted to see what would happen next. I gently shook my head and stammered, “Sl-, slave, we shall continue the tickle game.”
Mom’s fingers prodded my belly, eliciting another giggle. Her hands moved toward my ribs as she scooted further up. The bottom of her shorts rested just below my boxers’ fly. I felt pressure from Mom’s front, as her short-covered front pulled against my boxers’ flannel cloth.
I didn’t know if I wanted to stop inching forward. I knew I didn’t want to make it look like I was eager though. My hands redirected toward her stomach, even slipping under the ragged hem to find her lower-most rib.
She laughed even as she moved forward. Mom’s front, covered by her skimpy shorts, moved forward, pushing my stiffy back until it lay flat against my stomach. Mom giggled down at me, as my hands continued tickling her belly and ribs, while her bottom rested firmly on my stiffy.
She redoubled her attention on my stomach, sticking fingers into my belly button and wiggling them about. Not to be outdone, both my hands slipped under Mom’s loose-fitting shirt, attacking her ribs, one by one. I knew what I’d find if I went above the third rib. And that didn’t stop my right hand from moving up. Before I found the rib, the tip of my finger brushed against Mom’s boob. Unlike yesterday’s warning, this time, she simply giggled in response to my tickles. I moved my left hand up and felt her other boob.
Uncertainty came over me then, and despite the laughter she pulled from me, I managed to look Mom in the eyes. There was warmth there and laughter in her mouth and she gave me a barely perceptible nod. Any other time, I would have shied away from touching my mom. But the game we played took me in and instinctively I felt we both needed this, no matter how wrong it might otherwise be.
Both hands moved up. The soft, warm tissue of her boobs made it impossible to find her fifth rib. What I found were the tiny ridges separating her areolas from the rest of her supple breasts. She gasped as my finger slid across that small, open space and bumped against a nipple.
Worried I was taking this too far, I said, “Um, Mom, should we stop?”
Mom’s fingers stopped tickling my stomach, and she leaned forward until her face was just above mine. Then, her lips touched mine, lingering longer than yesterday. When she pulled back, she said, “Master, I am your slave to do with as you please. Does Master find me pleasing?”
Part of me was stunned to hear those words come from my mom’s mouth. The part in control moved both hands to touch her nipples. That part of me found her very pleasing. I stammered, “Y-, yeah. Very pleasing.”
In response, her lips pressed against mine. This time it was a distinctly sensual kiss. I had never kissed anyone before, but I responded by pressing my lips against hers. A dozen heartbeats later, she sat back up. Instead of the deep tickles designed to rip tickles from my lips, her fingers gently circled my belly. Under her loose-fitting shirt, my hands cupped Mom’s breasts. I hadn’t realized until then, they were as small as they were. Both fit comfortably in each hand, no bigger than half a lemon in size. Still, they were a perfect fit.
After a minute of me playing with her breasts, Mom leaned forward and kissed me again. This time when our lips parted, she said, “Would master like for me to remove my shirt?”
My lips were still tingling from the kiss when I nodded.
With my hands still on her breasts, Mom lifted the hem of her shirt over her head until she dropped the shirt onto my floor. Seeing her tits was just as good as feeling them. Her soft, pliable skin moved under fingers that were becoming deftly familiar with her form.
Her hands stroking my stomach slid lower until they brushed against my boxers. She kept at it, rubbing my lower belly until her fingers slid under my boxers’ elastic band. Her fingers stopped their circular motion once between my skin and the flannel. They moved down, sliding smoothly across my bald pubic bone until the tip of Mom’s finger touched my dick. I gasped at the touch.
Mom said, “Is Master pleased?”
Still working my hands over her exposed boobs, I nodded.
Her fingers went lower until her hand cupped my stiffy. She pulled her hand away long enough for her to tug my boxers down my legs. Then she sat down again and played with my freed erection.
I asked, “Did you and Chase do this kind of stuff?”
Mom nodded, “Yeah. He was so adorable. I really liked being his slave, just like I’m enjoying being your slave too.”
I couldn’t believe my dreams were now my reality. Kim Lanham, eat your heart out. I’m touching a woman’s boobs. Even though there were a lot of other things for us to do, things I dreamed of at night with my fist around my dick, this was a lot to take in. And even as I saw the love in Mom’s eyes, I didn’t want to push her too far.
With a lot of regret in that moment, I pulled my hands away from Mom’s perfect-for-me tits and said, “Alright, slave. Maybe we can play this some more later today. Right now, let’s go watch some TV.”
I had to order her to put her shirt back on, and I very nearly didn’t do it, thinking about how nice it would be to watch TV next to my topless mom. Still, when I pulled my boxers back up, it didn’t feel right to leave mom exposed.
We settled onto the couch and picked up Stranger Things on the next episode.
Copyright 2021 – Caliboy1991
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