Transformation to a Faun

Note: Not real, all characters over 21.

This chapter contains PISSING, WHIPPING and BISEXUAL MALE RIMMING

No fur covered haunches yet but stay tuned and we'll get there eventually.

We involve Alan's mom

Mrs. Holand sat down with us, eating a salad. "What have you kids been doing?" she asked, even though we were both, at 18, adults. She was a stay-at-home mom and was kind of stuck in the past. It was even worse for Alan's sister, who was five years older and had graduated from college. Cassie got the exact same treatment like she was in elementary school.

Alan looked cagey and said, "Stuff."

I smiled brightly and decided to fill Alan's mom in. "We're playing a game called 'Roman Gladiators.'" Alan looked shocked.

"Oh, yeah, how do you play that?" Mrs. Holand brightened up that one of her kid's friends was talking to her.

"We dress up like Roman Gladiators. Then we fight and the loser has to be the winner's slave." Mrs. Holand looked like she was trying to decide whether to disapprove or not. "Wanna play with us?" I said, acting all innocent and childlike. That seemed to confuse her.

"Well, I'm not sure..."

"Come on, Mrs. Holand, it'll be fun. Won't it Alan?" Alan looked at me with disbelief on his face, obviously uncertain what I was doing. I looked at him hard, seeming to threaten him with dire consequences if he didn't support me in recruiting his mom to our weird little sex game.

"Yeah, mom, it's loads of fun," he said slowly.

Mrs. Holand obviously thought it over and then seemed to decide that life was short and time with her children was precious. "Well, okay." My heart leapt and I smiled at Alan, who seemed miserable.

"Okay, we'll meet you downstairs, mom," Alan said.

Alan and I went downstairs. "What are we going to do?" he asked desperately.

"You'll see," I said, "and you'll have even more fun than we already had this morning." I smiled at him again.

"How do we tell her to play?"

"Same as always," I said. "And act like it's completely normal -- this is a game everybody plays and the rules that everybody uses. I'll do the rest." Alan looked me in my eyes, which were starting to glow, I was sure, then nodded, looking dubious.

Mrs. Holand came downstairs, looking like a fish out of water. I knew she never came down here while we were "playing," which is how we were able to get away with doing things like playing together naked and, just now, fucking.

I'd gathered material. "Okay, so, first, we change into our gladiator clothes. You tie this rope around your waist and hang the narrow towel in front and the wide one in back. I change in the play area and Alan changes in the laundry room. You can change in the stairwell."

"Okay," Alan's mom said, thinking it weird but wanting to be game. She went up the stairs and Alan and I went to our spots. He'd given in to me completely. I got out of my clothes and tied the rope around my waist before hanging my towels in front and back.

Alan and I came to the concrete center stairs dressed as we normally did in makeshift loincloths when his mom came down. She was wearing the rope around her waist and the towels were hung to the side like she was about to wait tables. She was also still wearing all the rest of her clothes. She gasped and stared at us bug-eyed as we stood there naked except for towels hanging in front and back. I thought she might bolt, but Alan came through in a pinch. "Mooommmm," he whined. "You're not doing it right. The towels go like this," Alan pointed to his towels in front and back. "And you change into the clothes," he emphasized. My vision was turning the dark area of the basement below the stairs into daylight while my balls felt they might burst. To my delight, in front of us, Alan's mom shifted her towels around until they were in the right place, then reached under the front towel and undid her shorts before pushing them down and off. She kicked out of them and stared at us. "Moommmm," Alan whined again. "You can't change here. Go upstairs and come back dressed like we are."

"I don't know..." Alan's mom said uncertainly.

"Do you want to play or not?" Alan said, all but stomping his foot as he pouted.

"Yeah," I finally joined in. "The costumes and the change are important." Mrs. Holand went upstairs and, in a couple of minutes, came down wearing the loincloth getup but also her bra. On a woman, the outfit looked different, thighs showing on either side of the front cloth, bottom sticking out to let the back cloth fall over like a waterfall from the rope around her waist to the back of her knees. The effect really brought out the muscles in her legs and thighs. The white bra was lace and very serviceable but not sexy.

Mrs. Holand looked miserable as Alan started whining again. "Mooommm. If you don't play right, you can't play. You can't wear a shirt or a bra."

"Yeah, Mrs. Holand," I added helpfully. I thought my balls would catch fire. And I could see every hair on her body. I suddenly had a stroke of inspiration. "My mom is always bare chested when we play."

"Your mom plays?" Mrs. Holand asked, hope lifting her features. I could almost see the thoughts in her head that she wouldn't be a total pervert if my mom played with us.

"You bet," I reassured her.

Mrs. Holand looked relieved as she reached back and undid her bra. She was about to pull it off when Alan said, "No, you can't change in front of us. You need to go to your dressing area." I almost punched him; I didn't want her to get second thoughts as she moved out of my aura. Plus, I like watching women take off their bras. His mom turned around, holding her bra in front of her and went upstairs then came back down, bare chested. Her tits were soft with age, but well-shaped and her nipples erect, from cold or arousal I couldn't tell. We both stared at her tits until she looked uncomfortable, like she might change her mind.

"Okay, mom," Alan continued and I worried he was going too far. "Are you going to follow all of the rules?"

His mom looked tense and uncertain again. "I don't know what they are," she began.

"It's okay, Mrs. Holand." I sensed what she needed and saved the day again, "We'll tell you as we go. It's all the same rules we play with each other and my mom and my sisters."

"Your sisters play too?"

"Oh, yeah. This is their favorite game." Mrs. Holand seemed positively happy at hearing she was only one of many women playing this game.

We explained the different weapons and how to score and stuff. Alan's mom took a sword and shield. She looked great in her fighting stance, shield up in front, sword back, wide stance, knees flexed. She had a great physique and her bare thighs were obviously well muscled. Her pubic mound caused just a slight dimple in her loincloth while her ass stood out markedly. She'd tied her curly brown hair into a ponytail behind her head to keep it out of the way and her nipples were obviously rock hard. She was obviously feeling good as we taught her a few practice strokes and practiced hitting her shield. She even let me take a picture of her in her fighting stance and text it to her, then again when she stood facing off against her son as both of them posed, ready to fight.

With my improved senses, I could smell Mrs. Holand's pussy, though the smell was so strong I might have been able to smell it without my extra senses. I knew she was sopping wet, though her son was oblivious. "So, I cut like this?" she said, getting pointers, making us get behind her, pelvis to her big ass, and guide her through the cuts over and over again. While I rubbed my thighs against her muscular butt, I tried hard not to have my burgeoning hardon stick straight into her crack. Finally, she felt good enough about fighting to actually start.

Since there were three of us, we started in a triangle in the open space of the basement, our feet on the cold concrete floor. Alan and I went easy. My sword clattered on Mrs. Holand's -- she asked me to call her "Joyce," -- shield and she cut back to get me across my stomach. "Point!" I called. She was obviously really pleased with herself.

Alan's turn was next. She blocked his longsword backhand with her shield then the dagger as well. She stabbed him in the left thigh, right next to his loincloth, and he grunted in pain. The youth's thigh started to bruise right away. "Oh!" his mom said. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, mom. Point."

And with one point on each of us, we were ready to stop being nice. With a nice crossover move, Alan used his sword to push his mom's shield out of the way and, when she riposted, he twisted and stabbed her with his wooden dagger right in her left boob. She staggered for a second then remembered to yell. "Point!" Both of us got rock hard at the boob shot. It was dark enough that Joyce may or may not have noticed but, regardless, she didn't say anything.

She looked at her son warily as her tit started to bruise and we once again assumed fighting positions. Joyce went straight for her son, obviously angry and seeking revenge for her injured tit. We'd never seen her like this but we would see much more of it in the future. She bashed his sword out of the way with her shield and brought her sword down overhead towards his arm. She could have broken his arm with the strength of her swing -- it was certainly going to be bruised. But I halted her momentum with a quick understrike of my sword right between her legs, hitting her right in the pussy. She faltered long enough for Alan to move out of the way of her now wild stroke and then fell to her knees. We waited. "Point," she croaked.

"Drop your weapons," I said, pointing my sword at her. "You have been vanquished and now must become our slave. Do you agree?"

Joyce looked like she was going to argue then just nodded her head. Alan and I got on either side of his mother and helped her up. We led her to the play mat. She was about our height. Once there, I bound her wrists behind her back while her son looped rope around her neck with two leads off of it. He cinched it tight, just loose enough to keep from choking her. "You have to follow us around the basement," I explained. "We're parading you through the streets of Rome." She nodded resignedly and followed us around the basement, her tits still erect but her walk a bit wobbly.

When we got back to the playmat, Alan and I pretended to saw through her waist rope with our wooden knives, then pulled her towels out. He pulled the back off first, revealing her bare sexy ass, then quickly the front one, revealing her dark curly bush. Joyce caught her breath, "Wait, no, you're my..." she started and I pulled the rope hard, choking her and pulling her head down.

"Do as we say, slave," I commanded and she coughed, then swallowed, looked from me to her son, then nodded.

We "paraded her through Rome" again but this time went past the play mat, through the laundry room and to the drain by the steps. "On your knees, slave," I commanded and pushed down on the middle-aged woman's shoulder until she was, indeed, on her knees. "The next rule is that, as our slave, you have to do whatever we tell you and you have to let us do anything we want to you." Alan's mom was so turned on that the smell from the MILF's pussy was almost overpowering and I swear her nipples looked hard as nails.

Still, aware now that this was quickly going to turn sexual, she gathered the strength to protest, "Wait, no, but, Alan, you're my son and Joe you're, um..." We just stared at her and she fell quiet. I saw her surrender as she shoulders slumped and she looked at the concrete between her bare knees.

"What should we do to her?" Alan asked me, like it wasn't his mom and she wasn't right there.

"Well, she's on the drain," I said. "We should pee on her."

"What the..." Joyce started but then I slapped her face hard, making her cheek turn red.

"You'll speak when spoken to, slave," I said, pointing my finger at her face. "You agreed to follow the rules no matter what." Joyce paused, then seemed to accept what was going to happen. She looked resigned yet turned on as she tilted her head back, opened her mouth and closed her eyes, just like she was in a watersports porn.

"Well, I guess this isn't the first time your mom's been pissed on," I said to Alan then shifted my loin cloth to the side, pulled out my hardening cock out and let loose with a stream of piss, shooting it into her mouth, over her face and over her tits. Alan soon joined me and we soaked the hair and shoulders of his mother. I went for a skill shot to hit her belly, thighs and bush.

"Okay, let's get at it. We need to choose an overall winner," I said to Alan, ignoring his soaked mother on her knees. Covered in our urine, she just knelt there but watched our bout with keen interest. We got our weapons and went to the open concrete space, leaving his mother covered in piss and kneeling on the cold concrete floor. She stared hungrily at us.

For whatever reason, perhaps because I didn't want to win, I lost both points quickly. At the playmat, Alan tied my hands behind my back and the rope leash around my neck before leading me around the basement. He stopped at the drain to get his mom's lead and she walked on her knees a couple of steps before getting up. Back at the playmat, Alan whipped off my towels and then led us around again. I kept purposely bumping into Joyce as we walked, feeling her naked flesh rubbing against me, turning me on. I felt her soft breasts on my shoulders at least two of the times. Back at the playmat, Alan had us stand face to face, nipple to nipple, Joyce's warm soft breasts crushed against my chest. He used a binder clip to attach our waist ropes and another to attach the ropes around our necks, keeping us close to each other. Then he threw our leads over the rafter above and tied it off. Our hands were tied together behind our backs and we were tied close enough to each other to kiss. At her son's command, I leaned in and started kissing Alan's mom on her open mouth and she kissed me back, our tongues entwining. Her breath was minty, like she was on a date. I shifted so that my cock was between Joyce's legs and then she clenched it with her thighs. Squatting just a bit so that I ended up choking myself, I was able to angle my cock up to rub on her taint then to get the tip just into her vagina. She sighed, head leaning on my shoulder.

Alan, meanwhile, had a couple of whips he'd gotten from an amusement park and started whipping us, his aim all over the place. He got my back and ass and I knew he was doing the same to his mom. I started working my cock around to rub it against Joyce's clit while her son whipped us. Soon he got tired, I guess, right when we were about to climax. "Don't' stop!" we yelled in unison and, looking confused, Alan went back to whipping us. Joyce came first, her knees giving way, causing her to choke as she hung by her neck on her rope. I came next, shooting my load into her taint and just enough onto her vagina to cause her to come again. Both of us were weak kneed long enough to almost choke ourselves out before regaining our composure and standing back up. While I had essentially just fucked Alan's mom after he tied and while he whipped us, and my cum was dripping down her thighs, I don't think my friend realized that fact.

"What now?" Alan asked again.

"Remember that one video I sent you?" I asked. "We could do that but I need help to do the front part."

Alan loosened the neck lines so his mom and I could get on our knees. I shuffled in close so each of us was sitting on the other's knee. Alan undid his rope and let his loincloth fall away to reveal his slim form and hard, slim cock, roofed by his sparse patch of pubic hair. He straddled our knees then, his ass in my face and his junk in his mom's. Reaching behind, he grabbed my head and shoved it in his asscrack. I immediately sought out his butthole with my tongue and started licking and penetrating it. It tasted kind of gamey but not too bad; Alan, for his part, groaned in pleasure.

Later Alan told me that, with his other hand, he had grabbed his mom's head and pulled it to his cock; he even demonstrated it to me. She resisted at first but then gave in completely, whether to "the game" or something else. Joyce apparently wrapped her lips around her son's cock and started sucking like a hoover. Alan said he pulled his mom's head back and forth When he pulled her head in deep and made her deepthroat his cock, she took it easily. She was apparently a nympho -- Alan's dad was a lucky guy.

I couldn't see Mrs. Holand sucking her son's cock of course but I could sure hear it. She was a sloppy cocksucker, slurping all around his cock while I had my face deep in Alan's asscrack. I stopped once to look between my friend's legs to see his mom's bare chest, her tits glistening with sweat. Her shoulders were back, her neck muscles working as she moved her head in and out. I could feel Joyce rubbing her clit on my thigh, swirling it around and moving it back and forth on my hard leg muscles. I was moving my own pelvis to rub my cock along the side of her hip.

Alan had come twice already that day having sex with me, but his mom and I were really working on him and it wasn't long before he came again. He pulled his cock out of his mom's mouth and shot his load in her face, which was already covered in dried piss. With a couple of hard thrusts of her pelvis, she gasped and shuddered as she came.

While Alan untied me and his mom, we told her that she had to let the cum dry on her to represent the blood spilt by gladiators. She didn't put up a fuss -- I guess she had given into so much already, this seemed small in comparison. As she got dressed, the MILF left our man juice on her face and on her taint and thigh. She did wipe her face with a cloth after the cum dried so it was less visible. It was time for me to go home.

"Joseph, when do you think we'll be able to play again?" Joyce asked, staring at me with a kind of hunger. She showed no signs of regret for having a weird threesome with her son and his friend. Instead, she looked like she was glowing from within. Alan and I looked at each other with more than a little surprise.

"Well, Alan's supposed to come over to my house tomorrow..."

"You could come over here again!" Mrs. Holand interrupted. I ignored her and continued on.

"But I could come over Friday," I finished. Alan's mom's eyes lit up.

"Okay, I'll pick you up at ten!"

Alan's mom was obviously nervous as she drove me home and we were both kind of perplexed, wondering what the etiquette was in this situation. She almost seemed like she might kiss me goodbye when I got out. Alan told me that, starting the next morning, she started watching videos on how to fight with wooden swords and shields, and started practicing every morning for hours.

My mom, on the other hand, sent me selfies from her work. In one, she had pulled her skirt up to show her new garters and stockings and her black bush, exposed due to the utter lack of panties. A second showed her with her blouse opened and pulled down to show the sheer black mesh bra she was wearing, with her nipples and areolae fully visible through it. The last one was taken about a foot off the ground from the front wall of her office, pointing towards her desk. It showed the backs of the legs of a couple of people in the chairs before her desk and, under her desk, her knees open enough to show she wasn't wearing panties while she met with them. I wondered how turned on she was and if they could smell her bare, soaking snatch.