The Perverted Shrin

Thanks to SexyKitty_B for editing.

Two days later, it was time for another meeting with Jason and Isabelle. I must admit that I was starting to look forward to our appointments. They had evolved from just patients to one of my favorite projects. I was pleased with the progress I had made.

Jason's arrogance and his disrespect for me had grown considerably, and Isabelle had become more at ease with Jason's sperm all over the house. It was time to step things up a notch.

"Jason," I smiled as I opened the door to the waiting room, "Come on in."

I could tell right away that he was horny and sporting a massive boner. He was clearly expecting me to put out. He simply assumed that I was going to help him get his rocks off. He was right, I was.

"Hi doc," he said as he looked me up and down with a wonderfully, arrogant grin.

"So," I said as I closed the door behind him and got on my knees, not even half a meter from the door, "How about I start by sucking your cock?"

"Fuck yeah," he said eagerly, as he fished out his erection.

I opened my mouth and slid it over his pole. Neither of us spoke or made any kind of sound -- except for me slobbering over his yummy cock. After servicing his young, throbbing cock for the next seven minutes, I jacked him off and made him spurt all over my blouse, my skirt, my bare arms and my legs. God, how I loved making a mess of myself.

He then glanced down at me as I continued sucking and licking his cock and balls, rubbing his residual cum and my saliva all over my slut face.

"So, anything to report?" I asked, another couple of disgusting minutes later, as I finally got up and wiped my face with the back of my right hand.

"Well, it could just be my imagination, but mom seems prettier somehow..."

"Prettier?" I asked, somewhat pleasantly surprised.

"Yeah, she's wearing more make-up than before, she's dressing differently too, a little sexier... maybe she's finally got a boyfriend."

"Maybe," I smiled to myself, realizing Isabelle had been unable to help herself. Now that she knew -- or thought that she knew -- that her son was lusting after her, she had been unable to keep herself from making a bad situation worse.

It was a typically female trade. Above all else, she wanted to be desired. Even if it was by her own son. I could only imagine how much pent-up lust she was fighting.

"She also seemed a little nervous these last few days," he added.

"Thank you, Jason, that'll be all for now," I replied, "I am going to talk to your mom for a bit now. Be sure to be hard when I call you back in. I am going to need you to fuck me like a bitch when I call you back in... would you like that?"

"Sure," he whispered, shrugging his shoulders -- almost indifferent. God, that made my cunt twitch.

When Isabelle walked in, I could see what Jason had been talking about. She was dressing slightly more provocatively, showing a little more skin and her hair was hanging down instead of being tied up into a bun. She was also wearing more lipstick and eyeliner than usual. Her increased nervosity, as Jason had called it, was actually suppressed lust.

She sat down on the couch and commented on what a positive change she'd seen in Jason over the last two days. Not only had she not found any more of his cum, but he'd also been helping her out around the house and paying extra attention to her in general.

He'd clearly taken my request to heart and had made a genuine effort to be an exemplary son. Together with the seed I had planted in Isabelle's mind about him lusting after her, it had helped set the overall mood for what was coming next. A little fire had been lit and it was growing...

After chitchatting for about ten more minutes, I got down to business.

"Isabelle, I would like to try a new breathing technique on you, to help you relax and get deeper in touch with your feelings. As I mentioned last time, you're sexually frustrated and Jason is picking up on that," I said as I pulled up a chair to the couch and sat down right in front of her.

"I... uh... I don't see what that..."

"Let me finish Isabelle," I whispered, putting my index finger against her lips. She gasped and a small shiver ran down her spine. My god, she was horny.

"Trust me Isabelle," I continued as I took my finger away from her lips, "Just do as I do."

I started taking deep, long breaths, holding them in for several seconds at a time.

"I do this with a lot of female patients, Isabelle," I fibbed, "I know what I am doing."

After a few more breaths, I whispered, "Now unbutton your blouse and take it off."

"What?" she asked, fairly alarmed.

"Relax," I said as I started unbuttoning my blouse as well, "I am not asking you to do anything I am not willing to do either. Nice and slow, Isabelle. It's just the two of us here."

Hesitantly, she waited until I had taken off my blouse before continuing. While she stared at my white, satin bra she started taking off her blouse, very slowly.

"Good," I whispered, "Keep breathing."

After another minute of pointless breathing, I whispered, "Now let's take off the bra."

She didn't object this time, but still let me go first. When my tits came into view, she gasped inadvertently. She stared at them, while she slowly and hesitantly reached back to unclasp her own bra. Extremely slowly, she took it off and put it down next to her on the couch.

"Good, Isabelle," I whispered, "Now just do as I do..."

She stared at me with big eyes as I took my nipples between my thumbs and index fingers and started tugging them slightly. Clearly suspicious about my unorthodox methodology, but too horny to object, she followed my example. Before long, we were openly playing with our nipples.

Part of me wanted to push on, but I sensed that she wasn't ready yet, so reluctantly I said, "That's enough for today, Isabelle. Can you come back tomorrow? It's important that we don't leave too much time in between these sessions."

"Uh sure," she gasped, both relieved and disappointed. She quickly grabbed her bra and covered her tits back up as soon as humanly possible.

"I'd like to see you again tomorrow," I said, triggering expectations, as I started putting on my bra as well, "Can you book a slot in my online calendar?"

"Uh yeah, no problem," she said as she started buttoning up her blouse. As soon as the both of us were fully dressed again, I escorted her towards the door, eager to get dicked by her son.

"Jason?" I said, inviting him in.

He jumped up, almost a little too eager. As he stumbled in, I walked over to my desk, took the picture of Isabelle he had provided me with and walked over to the couch. The 'breathing exercise' with Isabelle had left me pretty raunchy, so I took off my skirt and panties and kneeled down in front of the middle cushion, pushing my face into it.

And as if that position wasn't submissive or slutty enough, I now started holding the picture over my head, making it crystal clear what I wanted him to do.

"Jesus," he gasped as he stepped up to me. I took him less than ten seconds to take off his pants and boxers and stuff his big cock up my slutty twat.

"Say her name," I moaned, as he started thrusting into me, rocking me back and forth.

"Oh mom," he grunted, "Take my fucking cock!"

"Yeah," I grunted, "You think of her when you're jacking off, don't you?"

"Sometimes... yeah, shit," he exclaimed.

"Do you fantasize about fucking her pussy?"

"Yes."

"Her mouth?"

"Yes."

"Ass [moan]?" I asked.

"Fuck yeah!" he grunted, clearly close to cumming.

"Look at the cunt's picture and cum inside of me, Jason... call me

mommy

!'

"Oh mommy," he sighed, as he started climaxing violently inside of me.

"That's it," I giggled as I glanced back over my shoulder, still keeping the picture up.

"Fuck mom... shit," he grunted as he continued dumping his cum inside of me. Afterwards, he pulled out of me and slumped down on the adjacent couch, his spent dick dangling in between his thighs.

It was time to strip him of his last shred of respect for his mom -- and by extension for me and women in general.

"You know Jason, I think you can stop using the word

mom

each time you talk about her," I said as I pulled my skirt back into place, not bothering with my panties. I then unbuttoned my blouse and opened it up, showing him my bra.

"It's just the two of us here, you can call her one of those nasty words you sometimes use," I continued, as I kneeled down in front of him and put my hand on his wet, spent dick.

"You mean...

slut

?" he whispered as he gawked down at me, running my whore tongue up and down his wrinkled shaft.

"For example," I smiled, licking his ball sack, being as nasty as I could be, "Whore, cunt, slut, bitch... you can call her whatever you want. The point is there is no need to be so formal when you're talking about her. It's not like you have any respect for her, is it?"

"I... uh...," he stammered, completely stumped.

"Is there a word she really hates?" I asked, licking and kissing his balls.

"Uh...

cunt

," he replied, "She... uh... definitely hates that one."

"Alright then," I grinned, suckling on his small tip, tasting myself, "We'll use that one."

"So, how's the jacking off going at home?" I asked, after about fifteen more seconds of sucking.

"Fine, I guess," he replied.

"I guess you still pump it every chance you get?"

"I do," he grunted.

"And how's the

cunt

taking it?" I whispered.

"Well," he replied, clearly a little awkward about me referring to her like that, "You told me to be extra nice, so I made sure she didn't find any of my sperm."

"Does that mean you're cleaning up after yourself?" I asked, tugging his dick with two fingers.

"No," he chuckled, amused by the notion that he would clean up his own spunk, "I just shoot it where she... where the

cunt

won't find it."

"Like where?" I asked, rewarding him for insulting her by swallowing him whole and swirling my tongue around his cock and balls.

"Under her bed," he grunted, "Or in the back of her underwear drawer, in the garage, in the laundry hamper..."

"And I assume you think of her when you cum?"

"Sometimes yeah," he whispered.

"Do you find it hard to sexualize the

cunt

?"

"At first, it was a little awkward, but it's getting easier," he grinned, as I felt a stir in his young cock.

"Good," I whispered, "She's just a pair of tits and a set of holes, just like me... remember that!"

"Hmm," he grunted, "Then maybe I should start calling you a dirty name as well."

I guess I had that one coming...

"Do you have one in mind?" I whispered excitedly.

"Slut?" he grunted, "Or whore?"

I looked up at him as I slowly sucked his growing cock, waiting for him to come up with a better one.

"How about

bitch

?" he asked.

"Oooh," I grinned, feeling my pussy twitch, "That's a good one!"

"Okay then,

bitch

it is!" he chuckled as his cock grew significantly harder in my mouth.

"Fuck yeah," I gasped, feeding off his unchecked arrogance.

"I would ask [grunt] for a reason," he grunted as I was bobbing my head up and down his erection, "But the truth is [moan]... I really don't give a fuck!"

Shit. He was saying all the right things, making my pussy throb. I quickly slipped two fingers up my twat and started fingering the shit out of it.

"I am going to turn your

cunt

of a mother into a depraved slut... one you can fuck and use whenever and however you want," I blurted out, as I furiously pumped his dick with one hand -- my other hand busy pleasuring myself, "Just like me!"

"Whatever you say,

bitch

!" he grunted, his fat cock pulsing in my delicate hand.

My god, that was it! I couldn't control myself any longer. I needed to be degraded.

"We're almost out of time," I gasped, "Shoot me in the fucking face and get out!"

Immediately, he pushed my hand away and started pumping himself furiously, aiming straight for the center of my face. I tilted my head up submissively and even hung my tongue lewdly out of my mouth, being the biggest whore I could be.

Shivers ran up my spine as his sperm started splattering on my face. It wasn't the biggest load I'd had ever taken, but it sure was enough to stoke the fire down in my pussy -- hard enough for me to climax around my fingers.

"Fucking

bitch

," he whispered, timed to perfection -- in the middle of my orgasm.

When his balls were empty, he zipped up, turned and simply left, walking out the door. I considered getting myself off properly for a moment, but eventually decided against it, as I still had a full schedule of patients to get through.

I quickly put my clothes back on, washed my hands and face and then took a seat at my desk. I took a look at my schedule for the rest of the day. One assessment interview, two handjobs, a couple of blowjobs, some moderate fucking and three, maybe four cunts to eat out. Another typical Wednesday.

The next day, Isabelle had selected a particularly inconvenient time slot in my online calendar. I had just licked Mrs. Hathaway's cunt for nearly half an hour, letting her squirt in my face twice -- while her husband was sitting in the waiting room, with one of the worst cases of blue balls I'd ever seen.

I had helped Mrs. Hathaway train her husband over the years. As far as the poor chap was concerned, his wife was frigid -- and even putting out once a month was difficult for her. On top of that, she'd fooled him into believing that even thinking of masturbation was a form of cheating.

She got off on denying him, on making him suffer and crave for sex. It made her wet, knowing that he was almost perpetually hard for her, but wasn't allowed to touch her -- or himself. Meanwhile, she was getting dicked on an almost daily basis, being a willing whore for a bunch of other men.

As usual, we'd started off with a conversation amongst the three of us. I'd made sure that my skirt had 'accidentally' ridden up quite high, so that I was showing quite some thigh. As my cleavage was pretty plunging as well, I made sure that Mrs. Hathaway's husband had a really difficult time.

Yes, it was cruel, but Mrs. Hathaway was a rich, paying customer. She'd been a steady source of income for years -- not to mention somewhat of a mentor in the ball-busting and pussy-whipping department. So, after sending hubby back to the waiting room with a giant bulge in his pants, I licked and fingered Mrs. Hathaway through multiple, powerful orgasms.

Anyway, as you can imagine, after all that, I wasn't particularly in the mood for another 'breathing exercise' with Isabelle. I therefore decided to ask Jason to come in first, to let him have his way with me. As he closed the door behind him, I slid my skirt down to my feet and whispered, "I sure hope you're hard."

He grinned and took his fat, still only half-hard, cock out of his trousers.

"God, I want you to put that thing up my ass," I said as I stepped out of my panties and got on all fours, facing the couch -- my bare ass sticking out towards him.

"Fuck," he whispered softly as he took off his trousers.

"There's lube in my desk, second drawer on the left," I moaned as I reached in between my legs and rubbed my clit in anticipation of his cock. Jason rushed over to my desk, looked for and found the lube and walked back up to me, as he applied a generous amount of it to his growing dick.

He dropped to his knees and clumsily placed his slippery tip against my ass hole.

"Ready... bitch?" he asked, oozing testosterone and arrogance.

"Give it to me," I moaned, and then braced myself.

It took him a few, slow shoves to get it halfway in there -- but once he was in, his dick felt amazing. I lowered my head onto the seat, looking to the left. I was as horny as he was.

"Pull my hair," I sighed.

Jason grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back, as he continued to slam into me.

"Oh, fuck yeah," I gasped. I let him pound into me like that for as long as he wanted. But then, towards the end of that torrid fuck session, he made a mistake.

"Can I cum on your face?" he blurted out.

Somewhat disappointed, I jumped up, forcing his dick out of me and scurried away, moving to the other side of the room as quickly as I could. I then looked at him and explained myself, "Don't ask for permission, Jason... we're sluts, whores, bitches... cunts, you don't ask... you just take!"

"Alright, I am sorry," he whined, grabbing his fat cock, "Now, come here... bitch!"

"Too little, too late, Jason, you've squandered this chance," I said harshly, running both hands through my hair, barely able to keep my lust contained myself.

"Oh, come on," he said disappointed as he started walking towards me.

"No Jason, it's a hard lesson, but a necessary one," I said, stepping away, maintaining the distance between us.

"Fuck," he said, realizing he wasn't getting any this session. Annoyed and frustrated, he quickly put his clothes back on and stormed out of the office. After taking a minute to calm myself down and getting dressed again, I invited Isabelle in. As our eyes met across the waiting room, Jason shot me a frustrated, angry look.

"So, Isabelle," I said, walking up to her as she sat down on the couch in her usual spot. I could tell from her body language that she'd been looking forward to this particular session.

"Did you play with yourself last night?" I blurted out, as I sat down across from her.

"What?" she reacted shocked, "No, I don't..."

"Isabelle," I whispered, "The whole point of these exercises is to become at ease with yourself, with your sexuality, and especially with the act of pleasuring yourself."

"I uh..."

"Don't worry," I interrupted her with a smile, "We'll go slow."

As I started taking off my blouse, she hesitantly -- although less than the day before -- started unbuttoning hers as well. I then unclasped my bra in the front and showed her my tits. Excitedly, she reached back and slowly unhooked her black bra, showing me her rack. So far, no problem.

Not wanting to lose momentum, I immediately started squeezing my tits and tugging my nipples. She gawked at them and started touching her own tits as well -- albeit in a softer, more tender way. We kept this up for about a minute. Then, I got up and started unzipping my skirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shocked once again -- or at least pretended to be.

"Relax Isabelle, it's just us girls here," I softly replied, "I am just moving to the next phase. You're a bit out of practice, but I am sure you remember what comes next, don't you?"

By mocking her lack of sexual experience, I forced her to go on the defensive. As a result, she now wanted to prove herself -- to me, but also to herself.

"Yes, of course I know," she barked, staring at me as I slid down my skirt, then my panties, "I uh... I just didn't... uh... know we were going all the way."

"I am," I whispered softly, as I sat back down and opened my legs wide.

"But you don't have to do anything you're not ready for," I continued, calling her out again. She hesitated for a few seconds, but then started wriggling out of her skirt and stepped out of it, without getting up from her seat. Meanwhile, she kept staring at my twat and at my fingers, rubbing my clit.

Timidly, she put her fingers on her own clit -- through her panties -- and started moving them left to right.

I watched her for about thirty seconds, then asked softly, "You're not taking off your panties?"

"No," she said rebelliously, "I don't have to, do I?"

I chuckled and gave her a very wide grin. At the same time, I slid two fingers up my twat and started producing sopping noises -- designed to edge her on even further.

"What's so funny?" she asked, a little irritated as she glanced down at my cunt.