Midlife Surrender Ch 06

It had been two and-a-half months since Stuart Chambers first took Kara Johnson as his slut-toy, and a day more than that since he'd taken Amy Marshall, another middle-aged friend of his mother's. Yet even now, every time he thought of it a large, shit-eating grin came to his face. After all, he had what other guys didn't even dare to dream of; two constantly horny women at his beck and call who would do anything he demanded without hesitation and without question. It was better -- far better -- than anything he'd ever dared dream of. The only problem -- other than finding the energy to keep both of them satisfied -- was keeping his secret from his mother. After all, what was the likelihood that she'd understand, let alone approve?

* * *

Pamela Chambers, Stuart's mother, pulled her car into the parking spot a couple minutes past noon and turned off the engine. As most women do, she then proceeded to check her appearance in the mirror, primping her hair and making certain her lipstick was applied just right. Only after her appearance passed this essential scrutiny did she grab her purse, exit the car and head for the mall entrance.

She was making her way through the center-court, headed for her favorite store, when she spotted what appeared to be the back of her son about thirty yards in front of her.

"Stuart," she called out. But her call went unheeded.

She picked up her pace and tried to close the gap. But before she could catch him, he turned into a woman's lingerie store. That was when she first noticed the girl -- make that woman -- he was with.

She slowed her pace, fairly certain the young man would not appreciate running into his mother at a time like this. But before she could turn away and start down another wing, she saw Stuart's hand slide to the woman's ass and guide her to the side, turning her so her profile was towards Pamela.

"On, my god!" Pamela gasped, lifting her hand instinctively to cover her mouth when she realized that the ass her son's hand was on was none other than Kara Johnson's, her best friend. Pamela looked around nervously, then slid behind a nearby fake tree and returned her attention to the store.

She watched her son guide Kara to an underwear display, where he pointed out a pair of tie-side thongs. Then, to her even greater dismay, she watched him pick a pair off the rack and hand it to her.

After that he led her to a part of the store she couldn't see, but when they emerged three minutes later, Kara was holding a frilly black bra while Stuart was holding a very tiny, very revealing nightie. When the two stepped up to the counter to pay, Pamela turned and quickly made her way back to the mall entrance and out to her car.

It wasn't until she was safely inside the car that she finally had a chance to gather her wits and really think about what she'd just seen. Her son -- that sweet, innocent young man -- was being used as the personal play toy of her heretofore best friend, a 38 year-old divorcee.

"Damn you, Kara Johnson," she spat. "Damn you to hell!" And with that she started the car, threw it into gear and made a bee-line straight for her house.

* * *

Pamela Chambers -- who in point-of-fact was Stuart's step-mother, having been the child's guardian since shortly after his father died barely a year into their marriage -- spent the majority of the afternoon pacing the floor and wondering how she should deal with her new-found knowledge. She had no doubt how Stuart would react if she tried broaching the subject with him, so that avenue was clearly out. Yet it was equally obvious that she couldn't just let it lay. After all, he was just a kid; that barracuda she used to call her best friend would chew him up and spit him out. How could she -- his Mother -- let that happen?

She took a deep breath, held it briefly, then let it out. There was really only one option. She had to confront Kara, and she had to do it the first chance she got.

* * *

It was a bit after 5:00 when Stuart finally made it home.

"Hello," he shouted as he entered through the side door. "Anyone home?"

Pamela, who'd been waiting nervously in the family room, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm in here."

Stuart rounded the corner and found his step-mother sitting on the sofa against the far wall. He smiled at the only mother he could remember, the woman he called 'mother' with as much love as any young man could have for their mother. To him, as to her, blood made no difference. They were as much mother and son as anyone.

"Hi, Mom" Stuart he said lightly, entering the room and plopping himself down in his favorite recliner. "I'm famished. What's for dinner."

"Meatloaf, baked potatoes and salad," she answered. "It'll be ready in about 45 minutes."

"Great," he replied, pushing himself to his feet. "That gives me enough time to shower and change."

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Just over to Ralph's," he answered. "I told you last night, remember? The Texas Hold 'em party?"

It was 6:15 when they finished dinner, and 7:00 when Stuart finally left the house. Fifteen minutes after that, a determined and quite angry Pamela Chambers, dressed in a blue jean skirt, a peach colored cami with no bra and a simple pair of sandals, also left the house.

* * *

"Pamela," Kara said as she pulled the door part way open. "I wasn't expecting you. Is something wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Pamela replied bluntly.

Kara looked nervously into her house, then back towards her friend. "Actually, I have plans tonight and I'm running a bit late."

"It'll only take a minute."

Another hesitation followed before Kara gave a nervous shrug and pulled the door fully open. "Okay, but just for a minute."

Kara led her friend into the living room, then turned to face her. "What's going on, Pamela?" And that's when Kara's worst fear became reality.

"You bitch! How could you?" Pamela screamed in response, unleashing the anger she'd been struggling to hold in.

"What are you talking about," Kara retorted with a feigned look of innocence.

"Don't give me that shit! You know exactly what I'm talking about," came the frantic response. "You and Stuart!"

And there it was, out in the open at last.

Silence ruled the room for a moment, each woman staring at the other -- Pamela with fire in her eyes, Kara with a look of total dismay. Finally Kara managed a deep breath and tried to plead her case.

"I'm so sorry, Pamela. I know I should have exercised better judgment. It's just that . . ."

"Exercised better judgment?" Pamela shot back. "Why you little slut! You're nothing but a cheap whore."

"Pamela, please," Kara pleaded. "It's not what you think."

"Oh, it's not, is it?" Stuart's mom retorted, taking an aggressive step towards the other woman. "Then you're not sleeping with my baby?"

Kara staggered back from her friend, bumping into the edge of the sofa and falling onto the cushion.

"Well?" Pamela fired out, stepping forward so she was towering above the now seated, cringing woman. "Are you fucking him or not?"

Several seconds of silence followed. "Yes," Kara finally replied. "I am."

"And are you or are you not old enough to be his mother?"

Again, a soft 'yes' slid from Kara's mouth as she lowered her head in shame.

"Then enlighten me," Pamela continued, keeping up the pressure. "How, exactly, is it not what I think?"

The answer, when it came a few seconds later, did not come from in front of Pamela, but behind her, and it did not come from Kara's mouth, but from that of her son.

"If you'll shut up and stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, I'll tell you."

Pamela nearly jumped out of her skin as she raised herself away from Kara and turned to face her son. "Stuart? You're supposed to be playing cards tonight?"

The initial feeling of shock and surprise that Stuart had felt when he first saw his mother's car pulling into the driveway had quickly given way to a feeling of unbridled anger as he listened to the woman that had raised him unleash her verbal tirade on his slut-toy. Yet despite his rage, somewhere deep inside he knew there was a right way to handle the situation. And it was with great effort that he struggled to hold his temper in check.

"It's not her fault," he said in a very slow voice.

"Not her fault?" Pamela questioned, her mouth hanging agape at her son's ridiculous statement. And then she turned to look into Kara's eyes. "Why, she's nothing but a two-bit tramp."

And in spite of his efforts to control his temper, when he heard his mom call Kara a two-bit tramp, Stuart lost it.

"And just what the fuck entitles you to be her judge and jury?" he exploded. "You don't know the first thing about our relationship." So much for handling things 'the right way.'

The look in her son's eyes at that instant was unlike any look Pamela had ever seen, and without even realizing it she took a small step backwards. She tried to swallow the lump that had suddenly developed in her throat, then opened her mouth to answer his verbal query.

"I'm your mother!" she replied with all the false bravado she could muster. "That's what entitles me to be her judge and jury. And as far as not knowing what's going on, I saw it with my own two eyes at the mall this afternoon."

Stuart clinched his jaw tightly, struggling to maintain his composure. But when he turned his head towards his slut-toy and saw the stunned, glazed-over look in her eyes as she sat there shaking visibly, he nearly lost it on the spot.

He closed his eyes and fought the urge to lash out at his mother, taking long, slow breaths until he managed to regain some sort of control. When he finally opened his eyes again and looked into the vacant eyes of his slut-toy, he knew what had to be done. And with a small part of him screaming out in outrage at what was about to happen, he turned back to his mother, his anger now strangely lessened, replaced by a feeling eerily similar to the one he felt when he was about to enforce his will on Kara or Amy.

He took a challenging step towards his mother, forcing her to back into the front of the wing chair that sat opposite the sofa, then took another step forward, forcing her to lower herself into the chair before him. Then he leaned forward, placed a hand on each of the arms of the chair and spoke in a voice that was so strained it sent shivers down his mother's spine.

"You may have seen two people at the mall, but you did not see what you think you saw."

Pamela was in a state of shock at how events were unfolding. She'd come here to confront Kara, but instead found herself at odds with Stuart. She'd intended to do whatever was necessary to protect her son from that tramp she used to call friend, but now found herself cringing helplessly. Still, she managed to gather herself for one more retort.

"I saw my innocent son being led down a very dangerous path by a woman that's twice his age and supposed to be my best friend," she whispered. "What else was there to see?"

By way of response, Stuart leaned even closer, then spoke in a voice Pamela had to struggle to hear. "The truth," he said simply. Then, without turning his gaze away from his mother, he spoke again, only this time his words were not directed at Pamela.

"Slut-toy, stand up!" he barked.

It's hard to imagine how such a simple combination of words could have had more impact on two women. For Kara, it was her worst nightmare come true. The young man she called Master was calling her forward in the very presence of his mother. She found herself paralyzed by his words, unable to obey his command, yet somehow not willing to argue it. So instead she just sat there, frozen, unable to counteract the flood of emotions that were overwhelming her senses.

For Pamela, the words were a sudden revelation. There was no mistaking the look in her son's eyes, nor was there any mistaking the tone of his voice when he asked -- no, ordered -- the other woman to stand up. 'Slut-toy,' he'd called her, the words spoken by someone who had every confidence that he'd be obeyed. And when Pamela shifted her eyes from her son to her former best friend, she knew the truth the instant she saw the look in her face.

She shifted her gaze back to Stuart. "I . . ."

"Silence!" Stuart barked, sending his mother cringing further into the chair. "You came here with accusations, now you're going to learn the truth, the real truth." Then he turned his head just enough so he could see Kara and spoke again.

"I thought I told you to stand up, slut-toy."

Kara's stomach was in knots, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She lifted her eyes just enough to look in her young master's direction, then took a furtive look towards Pamela as she struggled to cope with her predicament. If she did nothing, she risked losing not only her best friend, but her Master as well. Yet if she obeyed him, the resulting emotional scar could mar each of their lives for as long as they lived. She took a deep breath, then released it. And as the air streamed slowly from her lungs, she realized that, above all else, she could not deal with losing Stuart. So, still not completely certain she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life, she lifted herself slowly to her feet.

"Yes, Master," she said in a near whisper. But it was a whisper that nearly shook the house to it's foundation.

In contrast to Kara's whispered words, the gasp that left Pamela's mouth was nearly ear shattering. "Oh, my God," she cried, instinctively moving to rise to her feet. But before she was hardly able to move, Stuart's hand was on her shoulder, holding her back.

"I told you you were going to learn the truth," Stuart said in a soft, yet somehow threatening voice, "and that's exactly what you're going to do. Now, sit down and don't move again until I dismiss you. Understand?"

Now it was Pamela's stomach that was in knots; Pamela's heart that was beating out of control in her chest as the young man she'd raised since the age of two leered over her, now clearly in control of the room and everyone in it, including her. What's worse, she knew his one word question hadn't been a rhetorical one. He did, indeed, expect an acknowledgment. So, after taking a nervous breath, she nodded her head slowly.

"Yes," she replied in a raspy voice. "I understand."

"Good," he said with a small nod. Then he turned towards Kara. "Remove your clothes, slut-toy."

It was a command his slut-toy had feared was coming, and one his mother was completely unprepared for. Yet when it came neither woman made a sound, the only things betraying their emotions being the look of shock on Pamela's face and a look that somehow encompassed both fear and lust on Kara's.

Several long seconds passed before Kara was able to draw her eyes away from Pamela and look at her Master. Then, knowing Pamela's eyes were still locked directly on her, she finally acknowledged the order.

"Yes, Master." Then she lifted her hands to her blouse and began releasing the buttons.

Pamela watched in stunned silence as Kara's trembling hands went to work. She watched the hands as they moved nervously from one button to the next at a steady, albeit slow, pace, continuing the process until the last button finally fell free. Then she watched her shrug her shoulders awkwardly and send the garment slipping down her arms and floating to the floor.

A fog seemed to be settling over Pamela's brain as she continued to sit there, mesmerized by the the events that were unfolding around her. She was in such a state, in fact, that she failed to notice that the nervousness in Kara's actions was slowly giving way to a hunger that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment.

In truth, the change in Kara over the last few moments had been staggering. The shock and confusion that had ruled the earlier part of the encounter had given way to shame, humiliation and embarrassment when Stuart ordered her to her feet. Then, when he ordered her to remove her clothing, the shame, humiliation and embarrassment were joined by a very strong dose of fear.

There was no denying that her trembling fingers had made it difficult for her to slip the first two buttons through the buttonholes. In fact, her fingers were still trembling when she finally freed the last button, but by then the fear and shame had begun giving way to an eerie kind of excitement, an excitement that bordered on arousal.

With her heart pounding wildly in her chest, she let the blouse slip off her shoulders, slide down her arms and flutter to the floor. And when her fingers finally reached the clasp on her pants, her juices that were flowing freely in her pussy.

By the time she began sliding her pants over her hips, her whole demeanor had changed. That she was still in a mental daze was an undeniable fact, that she was nervous and scared a certainty. But now there was no denying the excitement, no denying the arousal . . . and no denying the lust.

Aware that Pamela's eyes were glued to her body, Kara wiggled her way slowly out of her pants, using a bit more hip action than necessary to kick the garment from her feet and across the floor. Then, while standing there in nothing but her bra and panties, she looked to Stuart for confirmation that she was to continue. And while there was no denying that a part of her was hoping he'd say enough was enough, a larger part of her was clearly yearning for more -- more shame, more fear, more excitement . . . and much more lust.

It was the lust part that got its way as Stuart gave a short, but somehow emphatic nod of his head, a nod that caused a sexual shock wave to shoot through Kara's body and nearly buckle her knees. Then, even as the lustful haze that was filling her mind grew stronger, she turned her gaze back to Pamela.

It was at that moment -- the moment she turned her head and caught Pamela staring directly at the damp spot in her panties with her mouth hanging open -- that Kara realized that the situation was affecting her friend at least as much as it was affecting her. But it wasn't until her friend managed to lift her gaze from the damp spot to reveal the glazed over look in her eyes that the true meaning of what that meant filtered through to her brain. And another quiver shook her womanhood.

But Kara didn't allow herself to dwell on Pamela's discomfort. Instead, she let the smile slip from her face as she eased her hands behind her back and released the bra clasp. A moment later the bra was on the floor and her beautiful breasts were on full display, complete with erect nipples sticking out brave and proud in front of them. And when she saw Pamela's jaw drop almost to her chest as her eyes took in the majesty of her 36-D's, she almost orgasmed on the spot.

By this time, the newly released slut in Kara had taken complete complete control of her emotions. No longer was there any concern for her pride or dignity. No more did she care where she was or who was watching. She didn't even care that the other two people in the room were mother and son. The only thing that mattered to her as she slid her hands slowly up her tummy and onto her tits was the burning hunger that was consuming her. And as she squeezed her mounds roughly and pinched her nipples, a sharp gasp escaped her mouth.

She held that position for several moments, squeezing and massaging her breasts, rolling her hips and breathing heavily, not releasing the orbs until she had Pamela squirming uneasily in the chair. Then, with a slowness intended to hypnotize the already stunned woman and push her even closer to the edge, she eased her hands towards her panties, slipped her thumbs in the waistband and eased the damp, flimsy item ever so slowly over her hips and down her legs.

~

From Stuart's point of view, things had started out pretty much the way he thought they would when he ordered his slut-toy to her feet. He'd expected the initial reluctance that Kara had displayed, but had had every confidence that, when it got right down to it, her craving for the rush that came from her humiliation and embarrassment would prove too much to resist. And once she did give in to her lust, he knew her initial actions would be tentative, but would grow more confident as her state of arousal increased.