"Tell me, mother, which of these photographs is the real you?"
"I ... I ... I don't know; you can't ask me to answer a question like that, Simon, I just can't, ... I mustn't ..."
I wasn't going to let her off the hook. "Look at your expressions in these pictures, mother. The photos don't lie and nor will you!"
I stood close to her stroking my cock with more pre cum gathering at its tip. My mother seemed almost to be in a trance as she looked at it.
"Oh god, I ... I." She looked up at me with a mixture of desperation and pleading in her eyes. I maintained a mask of stony indifference, even though underneath I too was boiling with lust.
"So which is it, mother, tell me NOW," I finished with a shout, and this was enough to cut through her crumbling resistance
"I'm ... I'm the slut in the second photo, worshipping the phallus. That was the time I felt really alive. The person in the other photo was a phony, someone I made up to hide my real feelings behind a mask of respectability and modesty."
"Hmm, very good. Now you can admit it to me. Somewhere deep down inside, mums, especially you, like to watch."
She looked at me and whispered, "Yes"
"Yes, what Mother. You must SAY THE WORDS!"
"I ... I ...I like ... it."
I moved behind her and took her pearl necklace in my hands, twisting it until I felt some resistance. "What is it that you are prepared to admit to liking, even if you are so reluctant?"
She gasped. "When guys do ... inappropriate things, nasty things."
"I see. Tell me, mother, do you think it is "appropriate" to use your word, to display your naked bottom to a room full of strangers and to have a glass phallus inserted deep into your arse? Is it appropriate to worship that phallus with your mouth, deep throating it. It wore off all your lipstick didn't it mother?"
There was no answer, so I went to the next level. "Was it 'appropriate' to allow your cunt or your mouth, as well as your bottom to be auctioned for men's pleasure?"
This time, she whimpered but could not find an answer, so I pushed her again.
Was it "appropriate" to go through that grotesque, warped "marriage" to the glass phallus, representing the male reproductive organ, representing all men's cocks? And then to masturbate while you have the glass cock in your arse and Sheldon's cock in your mouth. Are these things "appropriate", mother? Answer me, mother!" I finished sternly, allowing he no way out.
"Simon, I don't know whether those things are appropriate but I thought so at the time. I had no option. I needed to submit in that way. I needed the rush it gave me, I needed to be the slut they said I was. I needed the release and being able to give complete control to someone else. Now I realise that I am still the prisoner of my past and I can't do anything but accept my fate. I've been condemned to the flames"
"I see. Well, perhaps we need to do something about that. You will go to your bedroom and prop yourself against the bed-head. Open your legs as wide as you can, then masturbate to orgasm. There are some conditions to this, however. Firstly, you will look into my eyes for the whole time you do it, not taking your eyes off mine at any stage. Secondly, you will not climax until I allow you to. Thirdly, as you masturbate, you will tell me, in detail, all of your fantasies about control in general and about me in particular. Is that clear?"
Mum nodded in agreement, but with some hesitation and left for her bedroom; I followed shortly after.
By the time I arrived, Mum was in position, but I forestalled her. "First, Mum, do you still have the ring from your "marriage?"
She whispered, "Yes," and I instructed her to find it and place it on the third finger of her right hand, which she did.
Back in position, my mother looked at me intently and wetting her right index finger, started to stroke up and down her soft pink slit. Her outer lips began to open and her saliva lubricated her pussy until her bright pink, perfectly shaped inner lips started to glisten with her own dew.
She alternated her stroking by inserting first one, then two, then three fingers into her now soaking cunt, and started to moan and quiver with excitement.
"Very nice, Mum, now don't forget that you need to reveal your innermost fantasies."
She gasped and shook but couldn't seem to find the words. She continued to look deep into my eyes, and I refused to allow any softening of my demands for her revelations.
"Oh god, Simon," she stammered, "You are taking me back to my days with the cult and I can only remember the sensations that I felt when I was able to submit myself wholly and without reserve to their demands. I so need to experience that again—but I don't know how," she finished with a deep moan.
"No, mother, now you need to be completely honest with me. The truth is that you do know how, don't you?"
"Oh Simon, I can't ... I mustn't ... it's so wrong." She was now shuddering with her need to reach a climax and her hand continued to move in, around and across her pussy steadily and through increasing wetness, just flicking the tip of her engorged clitoris. She also used her free hand to pinch and pull her nipples, sobbing with the mixture of pain and pleasure she was inflicting on herself. "Please, Simon, please just let me cum, I can hardly stand this any more."
"No, mother, not until I know the whole story."
"Oh Simon, don't keep me strung out like this, I need to cum so badly."
"You know the rule, mother, now tell me," I barked.
"Aargh, oh god, alright, alright. Your cock ... your cock ... I NEED your cock. I went back to the so-called marriage ceremony where Sheldon married me to the phallus and then took me himself. But ... but ... but ... this time it wasn't Sheldon who took me. It ... it was y ... it was YOU. Oh god, Simon, I want you to control me, make me do naughty, nasty things. Make me do what people say is wicked, perverted and evil. I want you to dominate me. I want to be your slut, your bitch, your whore, just for you alone. You are the only person I can really trust and I need you so very, very much," she whimpered in a voice that was now choked and almost incoherent. Then in the same low voice she begged, "Oh Simon, please I'm desperate—please, I beg you, let me cum."
I managed to say, "Now I think we understand each other, mother. When I count to three, you may cum. One." She moaned and thrashed on the bed.
"Two." A five second pause, then, "Three."
My mother shook violently and screamed, an almost animal howl. Her body shuddered, then went completely rigid before she screamed again as her climax reached its peak. Then she sobbed loudly as she came down from this monumental orgasm and I joined her on the bed, holding her in my arms,
She looked at me through tear streaked eyes as if trying to gauge my response to what she had told me.
I had one final demand, "Mother, take off the ring and put it onto the third finger of my right hand. It won't quite fit, but that doesn't matter."
She did as I instructed and I continued, "You are now married to my cock, and it will rule your life. Do you understand?"
She seemed to reach some sort of conclusion as she simply whispered one word in my ear.
"Master."
*
Thank you for reading this effort. Any comments or feed back, hopefully constructive, will be welcome.