A Mother and Son Forced

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Female Ejaculation

All characters in this story are over the age of eighteen.

A Mother and Son Forced

Olivia ‘Liv’ Munn was forty-two. She was five-ten, slim, shapely, and beautiful. Her hair was as black as coal, and she had gray eyes that seemed to look into your soul. They drew people to her. Usually, people who used her. She had never been good at picking partners.

Her first love, while in college, had dumped her the day she told him she was pregnant. He was followed over the years by a string of losers. Her most recent was Pete Marston, a forty-five-year-old tow truck driver. He was a loud, beer bellied, abusive, drunk. They had been living together in Liv’s house for two months. Pete was typical of the men she seemed to attract.

Her plan, in her younger days, was to become a professional dancer, but raising her son by herself had ruined that dream. After Russ was born, she found a job working for an event planner. Over the years, she started her own company which became very successful. As her son grew, he became her dance partner, and her best friend. The closeness between Liv and her son had been a source of jealousy with many of her previous boyfriends. One had warned her repeatedly that being that close could cause her son to turn faggot. She knew better, but to appease him she signed Russ up for a Taekwondo class. He enjoyed it but still continued his dancing.

Russ was finishing his third year of his Performing Arts scholarship and would be returning from New York for the summer soon. He and Pete had never met. Pete, however, had already decided that this queer dancer boy wasn’t going to be to his liking. Liv was over the top with excitement.

Russ arrived at the airport at two pm on a Saturday. His mother was doing a wedding and wouldn’t be home until late. Pete was away for the afternoon at a college football game with some buddies. Russ took an Uber home, unpacked, then sat on the couch to watch television. He was flipping through channels when Pete walked in the front door. Russ put the remote on the table and stood to greet him, not paying any attention to what was on the TV.

“Hi, I’m Russ,” he said, offering his hand to Pete.

Pete looked at the TV. The scrolling had stopped on Brokeback Mountain and the men were kissing. Russ hadn’t noticed it.

“Jesus Christ!” Pete grumbled, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off. “Let’s get somethin’ straight right now. I don’t put up with sissy boy shit. I don’t even want you to touch me with your nasty hands. God knows what kind of diseases you might have. Keep your queer ass away from me. Keep your faggot boyfriends out of this house too.”

Pete walked to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator then went out to the garage.

“Nice to meet you too,” Russ said, under his breath.

Russ had several friends who were gay, but he was a full-blooded heterosexual. As a good looking, straight male, who worked and studied with mostly hot looking women, he was very experienced in male/female relationships, and had several friends with benefits. He really wasn’t that surprised or put off by Pete. He knew the macho type guys that his mother attracted and had been through this before with a few of the others. Russ turned to the TV and chuckled when he saw what movie was playing.

During the rest of the afternoon and evening Pete came in from the garage several times for more beer. They ignored each other. Russ ordered pizza and after eating, left the box on the kitchen counter so Pete could have some if he wanted. Pete fixed himself a couple bologna sandwiches rather than touch the contaminated pizza.

At about eight, Russ put the pizza away, turned off the TV, and went to his room. Pete came in a short time later and saw the empty living room. He grabbed another beer and sat in the recliner to watch TV. Liv arrived home about nine.

“Is Russ here?” she asked.

“He was. I don’t know where he is now.”

Liv went upstairs and knocked on his door.


“It’s unlocked. Come in,” he said, getting off the bed.

Liv walked into her son’s room smiling. They kissed on the cheek then hugged for a long time.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she said.

“Me too. I’ve missed you.”

“You met Pete?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Mom, where do you find these guys?”

His mother shrugged. “Did you eat?”

“I ordered a pizza. There’s some left. I put it in the fridge.”

“It’s probably gone by now. Leftovers don’t last long around Pete.”

“This will. He’s afraid he’ll catch something from me,” her son said, grinning.

“Are you sick?”

“No. I’m fine. He’s worried about AIDS or something.”


“Mom, he thinks I’m gay.”

“Don’t be silly. He’s not like that,” she replied.

“If you say so.”

They chatted for about thirty minutes before Liv went back downstairs. By now there were a half dozen empty beer bottles on the coffee table. She collected them and started toward the kitchen.

“How about fixing me a bite to eat?” Pete asked. His speech was a bit slurred.

“Sure travesti gaziantep thing. What would you like, honey? Russ said there’s still some pizza.”

“Oh, hell no! I don’t eat after girly men have touched it.”

“What do you mean by that?” she asked.

“Your queer boy son has picked at it. I might catch something,” he replied, sneering.

“Pete, you have the wrong idea about Russ. He’s not gay. Even if he was it wouldn’t affect the damn pizza.”

“Liv, I ain’t eatin’ after him. It’s disgusting!” he shouted.

Russ heard Pete shouting and stepped out of his room to see what was going on. As he entered the living room, he saw Pete’s red face staring at his mother.

“Mom, are you okay?”

His mother and Pete turned to him.

“I’m fine, baby. We’re discussing dinner,” she assured him.

“One of you is discussing it pretty loud,” her son replied, looking at Pete.

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?” Pete snarled.

“Pete, I don’t want any trouble with you, but I don’t want you yelling at my mother.”

“Or what, queer boy?”

“Russ, it’s fine,” Liv said, reassuring him.

Russ looked at her and nodded, then started back to his room.

Pete laughed. “I thought so, chicken shit.”

Russ stopped for a second then turned back to Pete. “You yell at my mother again and I’ll show you what,” Russ said seriously.

Pete took a step toward him and ran into the coffee table, causing him to fall onto the arm of the reclined then rolling onto the floor.

“Oh, fucking hell! I think I broke my goddam ribs!” Liv rushed to him to help him up. “Leave me the fuck alone! I can do this!”

She stepped back and looked at her son. He was smiling at her. She grinned but shook her head at him. Russ went back to his room.

It took Pete a moment to get up while trying to hold his ribs with one hand and pulling himself up with the other.

“Let me see your chest,” she said.

“I’m fine. Get me one of my pain pills.”

“You’re not supposed to mix Vicoden with alcohol,” she replied.

“Fuck it! I’ll get it myself,” he grumbled, starting toward the master bath. “Fix me something to eat.”

Liz did as he said and about fifteen minutes later served him a couple of burgers and some fries. He ate his dinner then sat watching the TV and drinking beer for the rest of the evening. Liz spent the evening in her son’s room visiting with him. It was almost ten when Pete called for her from the hallway.

“Bedtime, Liz!” he shouted.

“In a couple of minutes, Pete,” she replied.

She walked into their bedroom about ten minutes later to his glare.

“Was twinkle toes telling you about his boyfriends?”

“Pete, he’s not gay. Even if he was, what is it to you?”

“Queer or not, I don’t like him.”

“Well, get over it. He’s here for the summer,” she reminded him. “He’s also my son and I will not allow you to disrespect him.”

“Why don’t you just shut up and come over here? I need my dick sucked.”

“Suck it yourself. Until you learn some manners, you won’t be getting a damn thing from me,” she snapped.

“So, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

“That’s how it’s gonna be.”

“Fine. I can get my blowjobs somewhere else,” he bragged.

“Take the rest of your crap with you when you do. You won’t be living here afterward.”

“What makes you think you can get rid of me that easy?”

“It’s my house. I pay the mortgage and the bills,” she said.

“I pay the cable bill,” he boasted.

“Fine, take the cable with you. Pete, all I want is for you to treat my son with some common courtesy. Stop calling him names and belittling him.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I want you out of here and out of my life. It’s your choice,” she said calmly.

Pete just looked at her but didn’t reply. Liz grabbed her nightgown and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She returned a few minutes later and climbed into the bed with her back to him. Pete’s hand quickly started rubbing her butt.

“I said no,” she said moving his hand away.

“I’m horny.”

“You’re drunk and on Vicodin. I’m not interested.”

He grabbed her ass hard. Liz jumped out of bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch,” she said, walking toward the door.

“Why don’t you sleep with your fag son? Maybe you can convert him.”

“Fuck you,” she replied.


Pete was up early, as usual. He worked the morning shift at the tow yard. He was accustomed to Liz fixing him breakfast before he left. After dressing, he walked into the kitchen. Liz was sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“Where’s my breakfast?”

“Until you pull your head out of your ass, I won’t be fixing your breakfast. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“Fine, I’ll go to Denny’s,” he huffed.

“Don’t forget your blowjob while you’re there.”


“Asshole!” she replied.

Pete slammed the door as he left.

“Are you two always that pleasant in the morning?” Russ asked, entering the room.

“Not usually. Want some breakfast?”

“No gaziantep travesti thanks. I usually do my stretching before I eat. Wanna join me? You’ll feel like a million bucks afterward.”

She grinned at him. “Yes, I think I will.”

She stood and turned to him.

“The nightgown isn’t going to work. Put on something stretchy that’ll keep you covered.”

“Oh, right. Give me five minutes,” his mother said, then went to her room.

They ran through his entire routine, which was a combination of yoga, Taekwondo, and a run around the neighborhood. They were walking slowly toward home.

“I’m going to be sore after this. I’ve gotten lazy.”

“Mom, you did great. I’m impressed.”

“I’m surprised I could keep up with you.”

“I went easy on you,” he chuckled.

“That was easy?” she asked.

“No, but it was easier than what I usually do.”

“If I can still move you can take me through your normal routine tomorrow.”

“We’ll work up to it over a couple of weeks.”

“That long, huh?”

“We’ll see. So, what was up this morning with Pete?”

“He was being an asshole.”

“It was about me, wasn’t it?”

“Part of it. Don’t worry about it. It’ll blow over in a day or two.”

“Mom, should I leave? I’ve got another place to stay.”

She stopped and took his arm. “This is your home. No, I don’t want you to leave. Give Pete a chance. He’ll come around.”

“Mom, he’s a jerk. You deserve somebody better than that.”

“Honey, he’s a good guy.”

“By who’s standards? He’s an obese, loudmouth, drunk.”

She didn’t reply as they resumed their walk home.


“Hey Pete?” his boss called.

“Yeah, Joe?”

“You and Art take the Challenger truck over to Smiley’s car lot. He’s got an out-of-town repo for you.”

“Sure thing,” Pete replied, grabbing the keys.

Pete loved driving the Challenger. It was their newest and biggest tow truck. He grabbed Art and drove to Smiley’s. He was given the information and headed out of town. It would be just under two hours to get there, pick up the tow, then drive back to Smiley’s to drop it off.

Art was a talker and rambled about something the entire trip there. Pete didn’t pay much attention to what he was talking about. While securing the pickup, Pete twisted, then grimaced from the discomfort in his right ribs.

“Hurt yourself?” Art asked.

“My girlfriend’s son made me trip last night. I think I cracked a couple of ribs.”

“Little kids do get in the way,” Art said.

“He ain’t a kid. He’s a twenty-year-old, sissy boy.”

“Oh, one of those. I hate those fuckers.”

“He’s home from college and already got me and Liz arguing. She slept on the couch last night, didn’t fix my breakfast, and even threatened to run me off.”

“That’s a bad sign,” Art replied.

“What is?”

“Pete, I read about queers. There’s two kinds. First is the ones who use drugs. They suck dick and give up their ass for drug money. They’re the ones that get AIDS and die young. The second type are the incest ones. They had sex with their mother, sometimes a sister or aunt, and it fucks up their minds. Is she protective of him?”


“Then she’s been having sex with him.”

“Art, that’s about the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“It’s a fact, Pete. Where’s she been sleepin’ since he got home?”

“On the couch.”

“Who has she spent the most time with?”

“The faggot. Where did you hear this shit?”

“I studied Psychology in college.”

“If you’re a college boy, what the hell are you doing riding shotgun in a fuckin’ tow truck?”

“I flunked out of college from partying too much. Between the booze, the weed, and all that young pussy, I got distracted.”

They drove for another hour then stopped to grab a snack.

“It can be cured, you know.”

“What can?”

“Incest queer.”


“You force the mother and son to have sex in front of you. It needs to be recorded to, as a reminder for later.”

“Art, if they’re already fuckin’ what good would that do?”

“It embarrasses them, and they realize how wrong it is. Problem solved.”

“Next question, how do you force two people to fuck each other without winding up in jail?”

“That’s where the video comes in. After it’s over they won’t be shitty about what you did since you cured them. The video works as a reminder, if needed, to their old ways. It’s also insurance. You let ’em know up front that if they say anything to anybody, you’ll make the video public.”

“You blackmail them?”

“I reckon you could look at it that way. You’ve watched porn before, right?”


“Have you ever seen a real mother and son being forced to fuck?”

“No, I don’t think I have.”

“And you probably never will. That’s how well it works. You’ve never heard of anybody gettin’ arrested for forcing a mother and son either, have you?”

“Art, as crazy as this sounds, you’re starting to make sense.”

Just before returning to Smiley’s, Pete had another gaziantep travestileri question. “How would a person go about forcing them?”

“Who’s the weakest, your girlfriend, or the queer?”


“You tie her up to a chair when you get her alone. When he comes home, you threaten to shoot her if he doesn’t get naked. Then you tie him up. Handcuffs are probably best. Maybe those straps they sell at the sex shops. Get the good ones, not the pink fuzzy crap. Once he’s tied up, you untie her. Threaten to hurt him if she doesn’t do as you say. Be sure to have the video on the whole time, and for shit’s sake keep your eyes on the one that’s not tied up. If one gets away, you’re screwed.”

“You learned about this in college?”

“I learned most of it there. I learned the rest on Literotica.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A bunch of writers’ post stories on there. I suspect some of it is made up, but most of it is fact.”

Pete and Art returned to the garage and finished up the day. Pete stopped for a couple of beers and dinner before returning home. He didn’t speak to Liz or Russ the entire evening, but he did watch how they interacted. Part of the evening they spent dancing together, and he heard them discussing going out dancing one evening soon. What convinced Pete that Art was on the right track was a comment he overheard. Just before bedtime, Russ asked Liz how she was feeling. She said, “You wore me out. My butt is still sore.” ‘Sick,’ he thought.

Liz didn’t try to go to bed that night. She slept on the couch.


When Pete got up the next morning, he went straight to Denny’s for breakfast then off to work. He thought about what Art had said, and about what he had seen and heard between Liz and her son. He went to the boss’s office.

“Joe, will you check and see if it says anywhere on Art’s application if he went to college?”

Joe opened his desk drawer and pulled out a folder then looked through some papers. “Two years of college. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. He was telling me he went. I didn’t believe him.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

At lunch, Pete went out and had his sandwich at the picnic table behind the garage. He took out his pen and the spiral notepad he carried in his shirt pocket then began making a list.

Rope – Walmart

Duct tape – Walmart

Restraints – Sex shop

Pistol – Trunk of car (unload)

Video camera -?

‘Where can I find a fucking video camera?’ he wondered. ‘I’ll check with Art. Maybe he has one.’

Art had already taken off for the day, so after work, Pete went to the sex shop. He picked up a full set of leather restraints and stashed them in the trunk of his car. He also unloaded his pistol. He wasn’t taking a chance of someone actually getting shot. Pete didn’t think that Liz would be a problem, but the fag was an unknown.

Following that, he picked up the rope and tape at Walmart, then had dinner and a few beers. Liz’s car was in the driveway, but no one was home when he got there, so he checked to see how sturdy the kitchen chairs were. They appeared to be plenty strong.

Liz and Russ walked in at about eight. Both were a little tipsy. They had been out dancing with a couple of his friends. When they greeted him, he nodded but didn’t say anything. Liz spent the evening with her son again then slept on the couch.


Art was at work on Thursday morning. Pete asked about the video camera. Art’s sister had one and he would see if he could borrow it.

Nothing changed that evening, but Pete did overhear Russ tell his mother he would be going to a movie on Friday afternoon with friends. He realized that if Art came through on the camera, tomorrow he would provide the cure. He picked up some beer before going to bed knowing he would need to come straight home after work tomorrow. He was anxious and drank several before going to bed.


Art came through with the camera on Friday. At lunch he showed Pete how to use it. It recorded onto ninety-minute discs and Art had even brought him two spares. Everything was ready.

Pete left work at three, telling his boss he had a doctor’s appointment. He parked down the street from the house and waited. Russ rode off at three thirty with someone. Pete would go inside and begin his plan in an hour and a half, assuming Russ’ return would be about thirty minutes later. He fell asleep waiting and woke up just minutes before five, and quickly transferred his gear from the trunk into the garage.

Taking three pieces of rope, he came up behind Liz and quickly tied her hands behind her back, tied her to a kitchen chair, then tied her ankles to the legs of the chair. She was screaming and fighting him.

“Let me go you crazy bastard!”

“You’ll thank me later. Shut up and relax.”

She started screaming again and he stuffed the dish towel in her mouth. Next, he brought the rest of his toys inside and put them neatly out of sight on the kitchen counter. When he showed her the gun, she quieted down.

“Pete, please don’t do this,” she pleaded.

“Liz, you need to trust me. You’ll thank me when this is over. Do as you’re told, and nobody will get hurt.”

Pete looked around then moved the coffee table aside, placing a kitchen chair where it had been. He then set the video camera on the bookcase and aimed it toward the empty chair. He grabbed a beer then sat near Liz and waited for Russ to return.

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