Im A Slut For My Sons Bully Ch 03

*Trigger Warning: This story involves a young man being physically, psychologically and sexually abused by his bully, his mom and others. If these themes might trigger trauma from your past, please don't read on any further.*

All characters are over the age of 18.

__________

Jake covers my outstretched hands with his palms.

"Do you know why I invited you to dinner?" he asks, looking anxious.

I pull one hand away to nervously adjust my collar-shaped necklace, a subtle nod to my role as his submissive.

"I think I have a good idea," I knowingly respond, "you've been acting so nervous all evening."

He glances from side to side, looking like he is building up the courage to ask his question.

"Have you thought about...whether you want to be my girlfriend?" he asks.

The candle in the middle of our table creates a romantic, sensual mood. I laugh at his nervous disposition, which is both sexy and adorable.

"Of course!" I exuberantly answer, "I'm in love with you, Jake."

I can't believe what I'm saying, but I can't help myself. I somehow still tell myself this is all to protect my son, but the truth is that I am completely devoted to my son's bully.

I remember how this all started, as a way to stop Jake from bullying Jimmy at school. I inwardly cringe thinking about how this confluence of events has made me betray my own motherly instincts in favor of lust and romance.

"When are you going to tell Jimmy we're together?" he asks.

I pause a moment to think about how Jimmy is going to react. I feel a wave of guilt, but know in the back of my mind that I'll need to tell him eventually. After all, if I didn't agree to be Jake's boyfriend, he would break off the deal. We can't have that, can we?

It's not like I'm his only girlfriend. He also dates a cheerleader named Mercedes and his own barbie-doll mother, Cindi Mullin. Still, I think I'm his favorite.

"I'll tell him soon, don't worry," I assure him, "I still wish...that you could just let him be."

He reaches under the table and under my dress, placing his strong hand on my leg.

"If you don't like the way I treat your son, why did you agree to dinner tonight?" he interrogates.

I look him in the eyes, then take his hand and guide it further up my leg.

"Maybe it's because you threatened to punch Jimmy if I refused," I respond.

I smirk. I spread my thighs, guiding his hand even closer to my panties.

"Maybe it's that I'll do anything for you," I suggest, "even help you bully my son."

My smile grows bigger as I reach across the table to stroke his hair.

"If you fuck me hard enough tonight," I remark, "I'll post our relationship on Insta. That's what you youths call it, right?"

I'm not actually going to make the relationship public, but it excites me to think about people knowing I'm dating a hot teenager.

"Do you know what I really love about you?" he asks.

"What would that be?" I respond with a big blush.

"Even if you don't like to admit it," he asserts, "you get off on being mean, just like me."

A familiar pang of guilt hits my body. Although it turns me on when Jake bullies and humiliates my son, there are increasingly rare moments when I remember I've willingly betrayed my own son.

Jake reaches further up my leg until his hand is in my panties, his finger rubbing my clit. I softly moan in delight. He pulls his hand away and leans back in his chair.

"So, what kind of mean things did you do to your husband back in the day?" he asks.

I remember that I told him about how I cuckolded and humiliated my ex-husband, the father of my son.

He leans in closer to me, his piercing eyes glued to mine.

"What kind of things did you do?" he repeats his question.

I lean toward him, giving him an extended kiss on the lips.

"What's it to ya, mister?" I ask after I stop kissing him.

He smiles.

"It's going to give us some great ideas about what to do to your son," he informs me.

I haven't had quite enough wine to tell Jake about all the fucked up things I did to my ex-husband.

"Why don't I tell you in bed tonight?" I request.

He smiles wider in anticipation.

"Are you still inviting Abi to spring break?" he asks.

He is making Jimmy and I go with him to his family's lake cabin for spring break in a week. He insists that I invite my daughter, Abigail. He thinks he is going to seduce her and he wants my help.

My first instinct is to be protective of her. At the same time, we have always been open about pretty much everything, and I know she is a kinky girl just like me. She has also admitted to me that she finds me hot, so there's that.

"I already have," I promise, "but I won't force her to do anything."

He confidently arches his eyebrows.

"I won't either," he boasts, "I won't have to."

__________

Mom looks down at me with a concerned, doting look.

"You wanted to talk about something?" she asks.

Sitting in my desk chair, I sheepishly gaze at my feet and begrudgingly recall the events that lead us here.

"You didn't mean what you said the other night, right?" I ask.

"What part?" she inquires, "I said a lot of things."

I look up at her, trying to muster the courage to ask.

"That...you like being mean to me," I bashfully recall.

Mom looks at the ceiling of my bedroom with a big sigh. She looks at me with guilt, but there is a twinkle in her eyes.

"Jimmy, it makes me feel awful when they make me bully you," she offers in what amounts to a vague non-answer.

I want to believe this. When she does mean things to me in front of Jake and his buddies, I tell myself she is doing it to uphold the arrangement.

"Oh, well that's good," I reply, but have a hard time believing her.

She sighs again and continues to look at me with concern. I notice her huge breasts, half covered by her much-too-small halter top.

She turns around, walking toward my dresser. She bends over, her big ass popping out of her tight, short pencil skirt. Her thong is visible through the stretchy material of the skirt.

She grabs rope I hadn't noticed from the top of my dresser, turns back around and slowly walks to me.

"Undress," she commands.

I glare at her, leaning over to hide my obviously hard cock.

"Wait, what do you mean?" I ask, pleading at her with my eyes.

She impatiently glares back.

"Do I need to ask twice?" she snaps.

I have no idea what is happening, and it's making me nervous.

"I mean...why?" I ask, looking suspiciously at the rope in her hand.

She sighs, looking hurried and annoyed.

"You know what Jake wants," she chides, "I have to come up with ways to entertain him."

I look up from the rope to the impatient expression on her face.

"Isn't this...going a little bit far?" I ask, hoping this is some kind of joke.

She sighs again, heavier than last time.

"Look, we don't have time for this," she admonishes, "take off your clothes or I'll ground you for a week, ok?"

I try to find the positive -- after all, I have a plan to get revenge on both of them. Feeling hurt but temporarily resigned to my fate, I stand up and take off my t-shirt. I unzip my jeans. I pull them down around my ankles.

"Underwear, too," she directs.

I think about trying to push back, but I know it won't help. I pull my underwear down my ankles and off my feet, exposing my semi-hard cock.

"Sit back down," she orders, "and wrap your arms around the back of the chair."

I do as she asks.

She walks behind the chair, then ties my arms together, fastening the rope to the chair. She walks to the front, tying both my ankles to the legs.

I pull at the ropes with all my limbs in my failed attempt to escape. She forcefully holds my shoulders down as she forces a piece of cloth fabric in my mouth.

I hear the faint sound of the doorbell. Mom excitedly hops in place and involuntarily lets out a nervous giggle.

"It's Jake!" she effuses, "I hope he likes my surprise."

She hurries out of my bedroom and makes her way down the stairs to the front door. Her "fuck-me" heels clomp as she goes.

I hear the faint creak of the door opening and the sound of mom's nervous laughter. The noise of her heels gets steadily louder as the duo reaches my bedroom door.

Jake saunters in my bedroom, his arm wrapped around the waist of my mother. She is covering Jake's eyes.

"Surprise!" she exclaims, pulling her hand away.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders as they lock lips in a passionate french kiss. She strokes his hair and caresses his back.

Mom breaks the embrace and walks to me, bends over, and rests her hands on my thighs.

"How would you feel," she sharply asks, "if Jake lifted up my skirt, pulled my thong to the side, and fucked me?"

Jake walks behind her, then drops his pants and boxer briefs, exposing his big cock.

"I tied him to a chair and gagged him," mom giddily informs him, "just for you."

He pulls her skirt above her waist, pulls her thong to the side, and thrusts his cock in her.

"Fuck me, Jake," she passionately purrs while staring at me, "right in front of my weak, punked out son!"

He pushes his cock deeper inside her.

"Even your mom knows you're a bitch," Jake boasts as he sneers at me.

He grabs her hair and pulls her head back, thrusting his cock faster and deeper in her pussy.

"I...I know, right?" she agrees between heavy breaths, "No...no wonder you love to beat on him."

He takes his free hand and rubs her clit for her. How nice of him.

Mom's body quivers and shakes, her eyes roll upward. She moans harder with every thrust.

I shake my head, humiliated. Yet, I can't stop looking at her big tits bouncing around in her halter top. My cock grows even harder.

Mom screams and her body shudders in what seems like a breathtaking orgasm.

Jake directs her to turn around and get on her hands and knees. I hear her gag as Jake forces her cock in his mouth. Her huge ass jiggles as she slides her mouth further up his cock.

"You're my own personal slut, Ms. Johnston," he tells her.

Mom mumbles an affirming noise out of the side of her mouth but doesn't take the time to stop gagging on him. He looks at my dejected face.

"Wimpy little simp," he mocks.

Mom quickens her pace, her mouth bouncing up and down on his cock. She bounces her fat ass up and down right in front of me.

My body tenses up, and so does my hard cock. It wants to cum, if I could just...touch it. Here I am: tied to a chair, watching mom give a blowjob to the worst person ever, wishing one of them would just touch my cock.

Jake grunts as he unloads his cum in mom's mouth.

She stands up and turns around. She walks toward me, her mouth full of cum. She forces down my shoulders. I try my best to struggle, but it's no use.

"Tilt your head," she orders, "and open your mouth."

After I don't comply, Jake walks over. He forces my head back and my mouth open. Mom spits his cum directly in my open mouth.

I flail violently, desperately trying to avoid the cum still oozing out of her mouth. Once mom is done, Jake forces my mouth closed.

I involuntarily spit the cum out of my mouth and all over my chest, face and neck.

Mom and Jake both snigger in apparent delight.

"I guess my son doesn't appreciate his dinner," mom quips, "but he sure looks cute with all your cum over his body."

He chuckles.

"Ya know," mom continues, "I tied him up like this so we could do whatever we want to him."

"Oh yeah?" Jake replies, "you have anything in mind?"

She walks to my bed to get on her hands and knees and pulls out a small box from under the bed. She stands back up and returns. She opens the box and pulls a strange object out of it. It's a pink piece of plastic in the shape of a limp cock with a ring attached at the base.

Jake approvingly nods. He has that stupid evil grin on his face.

Mom kneels right in front of me and forces the plastic device over my limp cock. She stretches the plastic ring until it goes around my balls.

"This," she informs me with a sly smile, "is to keep you from masturbating so much."

Jake laughs hysterically. I don't find it very funny. Mom uses a key attached to a necklace to secure the small lock that holds the device in place. She puts on the necklace.

"The less you cum," she explains, "the more turned on you will be -- which will make you like the way we treat you."

Did my own mother just...lock up my cock?

"You're going to wear this until Jake tells me you can take it off," she tells me.

She stands up and grinds her ass on Jake's semi-hard cock.

"It's symbolic," she claims, "of your role as Jake's punching bag."

I can't kid myself anymore -- mom is more than a willing participant in this. I try in vain to process her baffling behavior. The result is a confusion concoction of emotions -- shame, bewilderment, arousal.

My cock stirs, expanding only as much as the plastic cage around it will allow.

"What do you want to do with him?" mom questions after a deep, satisfied sigh.

Jake crosses his arms and places a fist under his chin in contemplation.

"What if I give him a purple nurple?" he suggests.

Mom finger guns him and winks.

"That will really hurt him," she points out, "good idea."

He walks up to me, grabs both my nipples, and violently twists. I writhe in pain. He keeps twisting until I can hardly breathe.

Satisfied, he looks at mom.

"Ooh, I know what we should do next!" she exclaims, "should we...I mean do you want to...spit in his mouth?"

He stares at her in disbelief, but doesn't skip a beat. I have stopped trying to struggle.

He tilts my head back and forces open my mouth. He takes a few seconds to gather himself, but his spit lands right on my tongue.

Mom walks to me, and while Jake is still holding open my mouth, she takes a turn spitting in my mouth without any apparent hesitation.

They laugh, and Jake slaps me hard across the face. He tells her he needs to go take a piss and leaves the room.

Mom looks at me with a strange mixture of pity and jubilation.

"Ya know when we were talking earlier," she says, "I wasn't finished. I love bullying you for Jake. I'm sorry, I can't help it."

My heart sinks to the floor, my shoulders hunch in my chair. My muscles tense up. I try to fuss, but mom cuts me off.

"It's...it's just," she explains, "When he hurts you, it's his way of showing you your place, son. It just...feels right."

I dip my head in shame.

"It's only natural that someone like him teases someone like you," she continues, "and when he does, it...makes me excited."

I had been at some pretty low places recently, but this might take the cake. I try to focus on my best friend Cheri's plan to help me get the ultimate revenge on them both.

"I figure we might as well try to have some fun," she suggests as she tries to defend herself, "we are in this situation whether we like it or not."

The cloth rag still gagging me, all I want at this point is to cum.

"I'm so happy to find someone who fucks me how I need to be fucked," she explains, "and I get to make him feel like the big, strong man he is."

I stare at her in disbelief.

"You should look at it the same way," she counsels, "every time he makes you feel weak, it affirms his masculinity. You make Jake happy, son."

What the fuck is mom saying? My muscles tense further and tears begin to well in my eyes.

"Even though you don't want to admit it," she argues, "you know you are weaker than him."

She sighs and crosses her arm.

"It's ok to be mad at me, Jimmy," she says, "but you're mad because you know it's true. You are naturally submissive, just like me."

'You don't know who or what I am,' I think to myself.

"I know how...well...hard you get when we bully you," she points out, as if she knows the thoughts in my head, "why do you think that is?"

I squirm back and forth in my chair, pitying myself. I don't understand why I get so turned on. It's not like I actually like it, do I?

"When you come to accept who you are," she contends, "you are going to be so much happier. I see your pain, and I wish more than anything that I could make it all better."

I consider her words. I want to be able to tell myself she's wrong. I don't want to be submissive. Still, I've come to accept that I have incredible sexual experiences when I get abused. That reality, combined with a steady dose of conditioning, makes me often feel like I'm meant to be this way.

This all started when Jake would not stop bullying me at school. It kept getting worse, even when mom went to the principal and the police. As a last ditch effort, mom came to an agreement with Jake.

He and his two buddies get to come over once a week. They get to do whatever they want to both of us. Needless to say, it progressed steadily from there.

Jake walks back in the room. He lays on the bed, his big cock sticking up in the air.

"Ride my cock, you stupid fucking bitch," he tells my mom.

She looks at me pityingly, then gets on the bed and mounts Jake's dick. Her ass moves up and down as she moans.

"Anything you want, sir."

__________

"Fuck, man," Cheri offers as she shakes her head.

"Yeah," I dryly respond.

It's Friday, which means we can eat lunch anywhere on the school campus. Cheri and I are sitting under a large oak tree next to the track.

"When spring break starts, we'll finally put an end to this," she reassures me.

My mind wanders as I consider the possibilities.

"Can we go over the plan one more time?" I ask.

"We've been over it a million times, twerp," she annoyedly bemoans, flipping the dyed red hair out of her eyes.

I look at her stunning blue eyes, and can't help but look down at her perky breasts in her low cut, emo-inspired top.

Yes, Cheri is my best friend. No, she doesn't have any interest in being my boyfriend. And yes, I have a huge crush on her and she knows it.

"So...how does it feel to be going to nationals?" she asks, trying to change the subject.

I just made nationals in debate. The torment at home has almost been worth it -- if only because Jake has stuck to his word (so far) and leaves me alone at school. Several of my geeky friends are coming along to support me on the trip for nationals at the end of the school year.

"C'mon, Cheri," I insist, adding a sense of urgency, "just one more time. I want to make sure we get this right."

"Like I said a million fucking times," she whines, "I'm going to flirt with Jake so he will invite me to his lake cabin for spring break."

A few days ago, Jake told mom and I we are going with him to his family's lake cabin for spring break. Jake's mom, Cindi Mullin, and Jake's girlfriend, Mercedes, would be joining. Chris and Charles, Jake's meathead buddies, also decided to tag along.

He said the deal was off if we didn't come.

"And when we get there...," I urge her to continue.

Cheri sighs, annoyed and bored by this conversation.

"I serve them spiked drinks. They pass out. We tie them up."

I impatiently continue her train of thought.

"When they wake up, we phone your friend from the feds, and --"

" -- and he tells them that he has enough evidence to lock them all up," she laboriously finishes my sentence.

I pause and collect myself, thinking about all the ways I can get revenge on Jake and my mother.

"They'll have to do whatever we want," I predict with a twisted grin.

__________

I look into my vanity mirror, urgently adjusting my maid-inspired lingerie.

I try to fix the bust, but it's no use. The outfit is just way too small. I roll the accompanying white thigh highs up my shins and past my thighs.

'I can't believe I'm doing this,' I think to myself.

I know I don't have any other choice. This arrangement is the only way I can protect Jimmy from getting bullied at school. At least Jake doesn't permanently injure him when I am around. Plus, he excels in school and really enjoys it. He is all set up to go to whatever college he wants. A part of me is proud of him.