She moved towards me and planted a kiss on my lips. I wasn't sure if it was Mistress or Sarah, but I welcomed it. Our tongues danced together. We kissed without interruption for minutes.

Eventually, she grabbed my hand and dragged me to her room.

“Let's start.”

I stood still were I was. She took her running clothes off. She was still wet from sweat.

“Kneel,” she ordered, and I obeyed. She came to stand right in front of me. I could see her glistening pubes from up close. I could smell it. A mix of sweat and excitement.

“Hands behind your back.”

I obeyed. She walked away to her drawer, and pulled out a pair of cuffed. She knelt behind me to cuff my hands, then went to sit on the edge of her bed.

“Come here.”

I shuffled on my knees, closing the distance. She spread her legs wide open. “Closer.” I moved in, my body between her legs, my face just a few centimeters from her pussy.

“Make me cum.”

I plunged my face into her bush, and I started my work. Without hands, I just had to use my mouth. Licking, sucking, nibbling, applying pressure with my nose or chin. I worked her clitoris and her lips, tracing circles, pushing in, suckling. She laid down on her back, letting me do all the work for her pleasure.

It dawned on me it had been years, decades even, since I did that to another woman. I experimented when I was younger, like most girls. I did enjoy it, but then you end up married to a man, and that's the end of your sexual life.

But even though it had been years, eating her out came naturally. I remembered how much I enjoyed the touch of another woman. I remembered just how decades ago I considered myself bisexual. All of this happening in my head while my face was buried in my daughter's hairy pussy.

She tasted sweet and salty. She was enjoying my work, I could feel that much. I felt her muscles shake for a moment. I made her come, as instructed. Even then I found myself unable to stop. She tasted so good, I wanted to please her so bad that I kept going. She didn't stop me. And after a few minutes of more kissing, licking, and suckling, she came again.

She sat up, put a hand in my hair and gently pulled my head away.

“You liked that, didn't you?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“You like eating your daughter's pussy.”

Her intonation insisted on the last two words. It made it sound shameful. And I felt it.

“Yes Mistress,” I replied, cheeks blushing from such a shameful admission.

“You're such an incest subslut. I should punish you.”

I looked up at her. I wanted her to punish me.

She pulled a small stool from under her bed. Then she pulled a magic wand vibrator from her drawer. She plugged it in, and placed it on the stool, making an improvised sybian.

“Come sit.”

I placed my pussy on the massager, and then she turned it on. I wasn't even naked, but I could feel it through my leggings and panties.

“I'm gonna have a shower. When I come back, you better have your pussy still riding this.”

She took her time. Lathered herself slowly and methodically. Washing her hair with great care. The same care went to toweling herself, making sure to not rough her hair up. She brushed her long red hair, put some light makeup on, pampered herself.

Meanwhile, the vibrator is buzzing under my pussy. My lips are shaking, and I feel the surge grow. I come once. But the damned machine keeps buzzing. My panties are soaked. My leggings are starting to absorb the excess wetness. I need to concentrate to stay on the stool and not fall. I make an effort to keep sitting on the device, so that it doesn't fall down. But that means pressing myself against it, and that means more intense vibrations.

When Sarah comes back in the room, she looks at me, struggling. I look back, pleading, but she just smiles and moves to one of her closets. I watch her put on lingerie, black, extremely sexy. She's putting on a show for me. Dressing up slowly, deliberately. My pussy is aching in agony.

She puts on her heeled leather boots, zipping them up one by one, slowly, up to the knee. Then she puts on a vinyl dress. And she stands, in front of me.

“Do you want it to stop?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Beg me.”

“Please Mistress, make it stop.”

“Beg me better.”

“Please Mistress, I'll do anything, please, make it stop.”

“Of course you'll do anything, that's not offering me something new.”

“Please Mistress, have mercy on a poor incest subslut.”

She unplugs the vibrator.

“Kneel.”

I climb down from the stool. The vibrator falls on the floorz and I feel my legs give out. I fall on the floor as well. It takes every fiber of my being to will myself up on my knees.

“Kiss my boot,” she says, putting her left foot forward. I bend down, still handcuffed, placing my lips on the boot, and making an audible smack.

“Go lay on the bed and wait.”

I obey and lay on her bed. She's gone for thirty minutes to an hour. She comes back with two plates. She had finished the meal I was preparing, a veggie salad with a bit of chicken. She put the two plates on the wardrobe, then moved towards me.

“Turn around.”

I turn on my belly. She unlocks my cuffs.

“Undress.”

I obey, showing her my body. There's the start of a stubble growing, and I didn't shave it, like instructed.

“Hand me your panties.”

I give them to her. They're still wet from the vibrator torture. She takes a big whiff, closes her eyes. She's enjoying the smell.

“Open your mouth.”

I open wide, and she places my panties in my mouth.

“Now, feed me.”

She points at a plate. I move to grab it, and bring it back. I sit next to her in bed. Without utensils, I go to grab some food with my hand.

“Wait.” I stop. “Put your fingers in your pussy first.”

I cock my head to the side for a moment, but obey. Four fingers coming out of my pussy wet and sticky. Then I grab a bit of salad with my dirty fingers, and feed it to her. It takes quite some time to finish the plate. She sucks my fingers clean, and asks me to wet them again several times. But eventually, the plate is empty.

Then she gets up to grab the second plate. She places it on the bed. She handcuffs me again, and pulls the panties out of my mouth.

“Eat up,” she says, before putting the panties in her mouth.

I try my best to not make a mess. She's watching me eating like an animal. My plate goes down faster. She spits the panties out, and then puts the plates away.

“I want dessert now. Lay down.”

I obey, hands cuffed in the back still. Her hands part my legs open. And I feel her tongue on your pussy. I'm still very sensitive, and it doesn't take much to make me gush again. Her tongue is expert. She knows how to please a woman, even her own mother. I cake, and she licks every last drop of it.

“You taste so good mom,” she says, somewhat out of character. She crawls out of bed, grabs a paddle from her drawers and gives me a choice. “Do you want to stop, or do you want to play?”

Without hesitation I reply.

“I want to play, Mistress.”

A devious smile creeps on her face.

“Bend over the edge.”

I obey, still handcuffed, still naked. She makes me count out loud every hit of the paddle. Her grip is firm. Her arm quite strong. The paddle hits with force, sending ripples on my flesh. I can't help but yelp before every count. I feel the tingle after every hit. I can imagine my ass becoming redder and redder. Ten, fifteen, twenty. She stops. Twenty-five. That's how old she is. A funny coincidence.

She drops the paddle next to me and goes to grab something else. A strapless dildo. One end goes in her, and the other one is to fuck me. She doesn't use any lube. My pussy is moist enough as it is. It's a small enough size, and the dildo glides in without effort.

My daughter is fucking my doggystyle. She grabs my hair, pull on it. “I want to hear you squeal, slut,” she says, and I become more vocal. I moan, loudly, and lewdly. Yes Mistress. Fuck me Mistress. I'm just a slut Mistress. You own this pussy Mistress.

Her hand slaps my beaten ass, and it feels like a refreshing caress compared to the paddle. She pulls on my handcuffs, then back on my hair. I'm begging her to fuck me harder, yelling over the wet slaps and the soundnof her flesh hitting mine.

She is grunting too. Calling me in turn slut, whore, mom, and then slut again. “I'm so fucking close,” she says. After on final push, she takes the dildo out of my pussyz but still impaled in mine. I feel her hover over my lower back, hear her masturbating furiously. And I feel her squirt all over my back.

Her body lands over mine, I feel her breasts press against my back.

“Let's stop,” she says, out of breath. “I loved that mom.”

I'm still a little stunned to hear her switch off like that, her voice no longer commanding but sweet and warm. I can feel her body against mine. It feels so special.

“I loved it too Sarah.”

Eventually, she got up and uncuffed me. I gathered my clothes, but before I could dress up, she planted a kiss. Full tongue. A perfect way to end the session.

A few weeks go by. Our play sessions become more regular, and more involved. Almost every Saturday, fifteen minutes after Jack leaves for some job in the early afternoon, I meet Sarah in her room.

I'm wearing whatever she picks for me. That day, it was a blouse and a long skirt, with stockings and high heels, a proper business casual outfit. Letting her pick my clothes almost every day removed a weight from my shoulders I didn't even know was there.

“Let's start,” she says, and I drop to my knees in the middle of the room. She's wearing a similar outfit to mine, sat at her desk in the corner. I'm supposed to be a secretary, begging for a promotion like my life depends on it.

I play the part, sheepishly asking at first. Of course, she says no. So I plead and beg.

“Please, Mistress, I need this. Is there anything I can do to convince you?”

She raises her skirt so she can spread her legs open. I can see her hairy bush overflowing from her panties.

“Take care of me while I deal with these emails, and we'll see.”

I take a defeated look and crawl under her desk. I push her panties aside first, but she makes me pull them down and shove them in my pussy. Then, I bury my face between her legs. I've become an expert at eating her pussy specifically. I know what to do to slowly build up to an intense orgasm. My tongue, my mouth, my whole face, versus her labia, her clitoris, and her hair. Licking, suckling, nimbling, grinding, running circles, spelling her name, exploring her deeper, and coming back up to suck on her clit.

I can taste her sweet juice as I feel her legs quiver. First task accomplished. Next, she has me bend over the desk and take notes of what she's saying. I feel her fingers, digging up the panties I shoved in my pussy, and then fingering me. She's talking about how the perfect secretary obeys every command, how a life of service is fulfilling to such a woman, how much of a subservient slut her secretary has to be willing to be.

I write every word on paper the best I can, but my handwriting is disrupted by her treatment. I can feel her fingers in me one moment, and the next she's pinching my clit, slapping my ass, or mindlessly playing with my pubic hair. I sport a thick bush now, as she never instructed me to shave.

She eventually brings out the strapon. A big one. She hikes my skirt and pulls my panties to my thighs. I feel the silicone tip rub against my pussy, then, grabbing me firmly with both hands by the hips, she pushes herself in.

I drop the pen, but she slaps my ass. “You're not done writing,” she says. The desk trembles under her assault. Every thrust of her hips comes clapping on my ass cheeks with youthful vigor and unrelenting speed.

I'm a fucking slut, I write down. I'm a worthless whore. I'm a shameless incest bitch. I'm just a sextoy for my Mistress. I love her and her pleasure is everything to me.

She raises one of my legs and has me put my knee on the desk. She pushes closer against it, so close that my clit grinds against it. She knows what she's doing. Every thrust sends my sweet pleasure button friction against the desk.

It becomes harder to concentrate. I'm… what did she say? She pulling on my hair. I can even see the paper, but I'm still trying to write down. Soon though, the pen falls off my hand. It's my turn to feel my legs quiver. She stops, her dildo fully inserted.

She leans down on me to whisper “read it back.” It's mostly legible, though the last few lines are just a jumbled spaghetti mess of ink. For that, she says I deserve punishment.

Her hand spanks my ass cheeks. I tally every hit on the sheet. My flesh turns red, but she keeps going, ten, twenty. I know she feels the same tingling sensation, her hand must be as sore as my cheeks, but she continues, thirty, forty. She stops, only to grab my hair and put me on my knees. She slaps my face, just a couple of times.

“Open your mouth,” she orders, and I obey. She aims and spits into my mouth. “Swallow.”

I close my mouth and swallow her saliva.

“Thank you Mistress.”

She grabs me by the ear, and drags me to the bathroom, into the shower. I'm on my knees, fully clothed, she's taken everything off, fully naked. She grabs my head with one hand, and cock her hips. Then she starts peeing on me.

Reflexively, I try to move my head away but she holds it in place. I close my eyes and mouth when I feel the warm liquid hit me. It trickles down, soaking my clothes, wetting my body. It lasts less than a minute, enough to drench my hair, my outfit, my skin with her piss.

“Fuck, that's hot,” she says looking down at me. “Let's stop mom.”

She helps me to my feet and gives me a big kiss. I can feel the droplets of her pee on my face still. She turns the water on, finishing to wet my clothes completely. She undresses me with the softest touch, and we spend a good, long time lathering each other.

Weeks go by. Sarah and I play every chance we get. She knows when to punish me and when to reward me. She gives me the attention I need. The anticipation is always so high, sometimes she barely needs to blow on my bare skin to send me into ecstasy.

I'm living the most intense, rewarding and loving relationship of my life. With my daughter. As her incestuous subslut. She introduces more rules over time.

The outfits she picks for me become a little more spicy, with all sorts of sexy underwear, or sometimes no underwear at all. She cuts my hair. She picks my makeup. She gives me a remote controlled vibrator, that she can activate from her phone. She gives me sudden tasks by text as well. Every day I'm hers a little more.

I wake up one day. I look at my phone. She texted me the outfit I need to wear, the makeup I need to use, which toy to insert into which hole. She made my lunchbox, no doubt using her wetness as an ingredient. I realize just how much she controls me. She owns me, completely. And I feel warmth. Bliss. I'm hers, and it makes me happier than I've ever been.

There's no more ‘let's start' and ‘let's stop'. When we're alone, she's Mistress Sarah, my loving and dominant daughter, and I'm a slutty mommy. This is as committed a relationship I've ever had, and I was married. But she treats me like I'm worth all the gold in the world. Even when she spanks me.

Sometimes, Jack is out for the whole night, and she spends it with me, in my bed. No games, just plain tenderness. It was one of these nights. We're both naked. I'm on my back. She's cradling against me on her side. I can feel her pubic hair brush against my leg. With two fingers, she's playing with my left nipple.

“It sucks we have to hide,” she says. “We shouldn't have to.”

“I know. I wish I could tell the world how much I love you.”

“We should do something about Jack.”

“I don't know if…”

“Can I ask you a question, mom?”

“Sure.”

“Can you close your eyes?” I close my eyes. “Imagine Jack laying on top of you.” The image pops in my brain. “How does that make you feel?”

I take the time to really think about it. His naked body. On top of mine. His cock pressing against my womanhood.

“Excited,” I answer.

“Me too. There's something else though.”

“What?”

“He craves something.”

“Is it me?”

“No. I mean, yes, but not only.”

She climbs over me, her eyes peering into mine.

“Would you allow me to teach him?”

“Like you taught me?”

“Yes. And no. But yes, mostly.”

“Are you really asking for my permission, Sarah?”

“Yes, mom. And I'll need your participation.”

“Okay. I trust you, Mistress.”

She plants a kiss on my lips. It lasts much longer than she anticipated. I start fondling her. We roll over to the side.

“You will pick a night when he works late. He'll go for a shower before heading to bed. You'll go in the bathroom and offer him a blowjob. Don't take no for an answer. Then, you'll offer him to spend the night together. You'll have sex, on top of him. You'll make sure he wears a condom, and cums in it. When that's done, you'll kiss him goodnight, and go to your room. But before that, you'll bring the condom to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress, but… that seems very complicated. And what if he says no?”

“I'll punish you. It is your task to make him say yes.”

“Yes Mistress.”

So I waited for one of those nights. It was a Thursday night. Or Friday morning rather, after three in the morning. It was quite a feat for me to stay up that late. I had to drink two litres of tea at least to stay awake. He had just covered a shift in a bar. He was tired, smelling like booze though perfectly sober. As predicted, he went straight for the shower.

This was my moment to strike. I took off my night lingerie, the one Mistress chose to replace my PJs, and put on a bathrobe. I waited to hear the water running before heading to the bathroom.

The door was unlocked. There was never a need for locks in our house. And just a year before, I would have never dared open that door, just out of respect for his privacy. But Mistress Sarah gave me a task, and so I opened it.

He was startled. Obviously, he didn't expect this. The shower glass was foggy, but he still hid his modesty with his hands.

I let my bathrobe fall on the floor, revealing my naked body to him. Then, I climbed in the shower with him.

“What are you doing?”

“You must be tired.”

“What?”

“Let me help you.”

“No, mom, just…”

I put my finger on his mouth and whispered shush. He was very confused and embarrassed. Maybe it was a blunder being so forward, but there was no turning back now.

“Turn around,” I told him.

“Mom, stop, this isn't…”

I shushed him again. I had to dig deep to find my authoritative voice. I hadn't used it in years, not since they hit puberty probably. And in my adventures with my daughter, I never really had to affirm myself. But it was there, deep down.

“Just obey your mother.”

He turned around. I lathered his back, massaged it.

“All this work, and nobody takes care of you. You must be so tired.”

He didn't reply, but I could feel him physically relax and tense at the same time. I moved closer to him. My hands started to apply soap on his sides from behind.

“Mommy will take care of you,” I said all sultry, before making my move. I just reached around for his penis and started to stroke.

“Mom, this isn't…”

“Shush, this is for your own good.”

It was almost too easy.

“Turn around.”

Just like he obeyed me, I obeyed my orders. I dropped to my knees, and put my lips around my son's cock. It was quite average, more impressive by its thickness than length perhaps. A perfectly serviceable penis.

He didn't protest. It was quite obvious he enjoyed it. It had been some time since I put any effort into a blowjob. For his dad, I was just used to go through the motions mechanically. But Mistress Sarah suggested I should charm him, so I tried my best. I remembered my old techniques. Tongue swirling, fingers caressing.

“I'm gonna…” he said just as he came. It took me by surprise, but I did my best to take it in stride. I even swallowed. Just because my daughter ordered me too.

“Mom, that was…”

I interrupted him, not with a shush but with a kiss.

“This is just a start,” I said to tantalise him, and to remind myself. I cut the water off, and grabbed his hand. Without even drying off, I dragged him to his room, pushed him on his bed, and climbed on top of him.

We kissed for minutes, deeply, passionately. I don't even know if this was a dream come true for him, if he had ever fantasized about it, if he had ever conceived of this as a remote possibility. But it was clear in the heat of the moment he had no misgivings.

“Where are your condoms,” I whispered in his ear. He shuffled to reach in his nightstand, and produced a fresh condom. I opened it, and placed it delicately on his cock. And once it was in place, I lowered myself on him.

I felt his cock push through and fill my intimacy. I hadn't thought about it before, about the physicality of it, but feeling my son penetrate me, it was an incredibly erotic feeling. It was different from Sarah. Of course she came from the same womb, but her mouth didn't go in. Merely her fingers and her toys, but that felt different. This was an actual cock, of flesh and blood. Of my flesh and blood.

I moved my body up and down, he moved his too to help. I looked into his eyes, kissed him, his hands ran all over my body, at least as far as they could reach. This wasn't sex, this was lovemaking, and part of me wanted to make this last forever.

But Mistress Sarah gave specific instructions. So I did my best. I gave my son the best fuck of his life. He came, right in the latex balloon. And after that, I took it off, tied a knot, as if I was going to throw it away. Then I gave him a kiss goodnight, and left.

As I was walking to my room, Sarah cracked open her door, beckoning me inside. I entered, and gave her the condom.

“Good job, mommy.”

I felt proud of myself. And also deeply ashamed. A rather usual feeling with Mistress Sarah. Not a bad one though.

“Now to the next stage of the plan.”

“Can I ask what's your plan, Mistress?”

“For you, it will be simple. Collect a few more of these. Any way you see fit, I trust you will figure it out. If he asks to talk about it, your… relationship, just say it's sexual. Just two adults helping and pleasuring each other. Something along these lines. But make sure you always use protection.”

“Yes Mistress. What happens after that?”

“I'll handle it. You won't have to worry about it.”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Did you… enjoy it?”

I looked down.

“Yes Mistress.”

“You'll tell me all about it another time. For now, go to your room, you've done well.”

Over the next few weeks, Sarah left the house more often, giving me more opportunities to seduce Jack. I made love to my son a dozen times perhaps. Every time, I would pocket the condom full of his cum and bring it to the Mistress. I didn't know what devious plan she had devised, but I enjoyed my role in it. I never felt so close to a man than when I felt his cock pulsate inside me. I wanted to feel him raw, but that would have disobeyed Mistress's orders.

I brought Sarah another condom. The fifteenth maybe. Jack wasn't home, it was from the night before, I had just kept it under my pillow for the day.

“I think this will be enough,” Sarah said as she grabbed the condom. “From now on, no more sex. You won't proposition him. And if he asks you, you'll tell him you're not in the mood. Don't elaborate. Don't let him try to figure out why or whatever. Just reject him. This is just a matter of a couple weeks. Then I will take over.”

It was a long fortnight. He had already taken sexual relief from his mother for granted. So when I said no the first time he was shocked. But he didn't insist. The second time, he tried to ask if something was wrong, but I just brushed him off. It became more difficult to reject him. He felt something was up and he wanted to know what.

And then one night he had his answer.

Sarah entered his room. No knocking, she just barged in, late in the evening. He was watching a movie, and she turned the TV off.

“What the hell are you doing?” he screamed.

“I'm sorry but I have something very important to talk about.”

Her tone was very firm and confident. Her inner Mistress was clearly doing the speaking. She sat on the edge of his bed, looking at him.

“What do you make of this?” she said, taking a handful of used condoms out of her pockets.

“What the hell sis?”

Of course he was shocked, her sister just threw a bunch of condoms at him. He imagined they were hers of course. But then the thought creeped in. But it wasn't possible. But what if it was.

“Recognise your cum?”

“What?”

“These are yours, aren't they?”

There wasn't much to distinguish them. Just a lump of clear latex with a bit of dried cum.

“Ask me how I know.”

“How?”

“I got them from mom.”

“What!?”

“Relax, and shut up for a minute. Let me tell you a little tale.”

She explained how she told me to have sex with him. And then how she told me to stop it. She explained all the changes in my wardrobe, in my style, in my schedule. She explained that she owned me, completely, implicitly.

“But why, I hear you wondering. Because I love her. Simple as that. I love her, and she must be mine. She's happy that way. She really is. And now you know, so we don't have to hide at home anymore.”

“Why did you make her have sex with me?”

“Ah, that. Well, it's for a different reason. You see, I helped her discover her true nature. And I needed a way to do the same with you.”

“Look, I'm not a sub…”

“Oh, yes, you are. I'll prove it to you. But that is just a part of it. There's something else in you I want to bring up.”

“I don't know what you think you know, but you're wrong.”

“Am I? We'll see about that.”

“What do you want?”

“Right now, I just want you to understand your position. I'm in charge. Mom is mine. If you're good, I'll let her fuck you again. Without these,” she said, pointing at the condom. “But she'll always be mine.”

He was speechless.

“You will show submission. Every morning, when you come down for breakfast, you will kneel before me, and kiss my foot. Starting tomorrow. Understood?”

He didn't answer, still processing everything she laid out. Sarah left his room. It was clear he had heard every word, it was just a matter of whether he would obey.

The next morning came. Sarah woke me up in person, naked. Our lips locked together for a few minutes. She made take my nightie off, and we went downstairs naked. I was worried of course, I didn't know she had revealed everything to Jack, but I was going to disobey her.

Jack came down, perhaps an hour later. He saw us both naked, he quickly went out of the house. Sarah was visibly furious. When he came back in the late afternoon, she was waiting for him, in the couch.

She was wearing a leather bodysuit and boots, her most stereotypical domme lingerie. I was naked, on my knees, next to her. I called him out, and he came immediately. He saw the scene. And I spoke the words Mistress had fed me.

“You disobeyed Mistress, and now she will punish me for it.”

She ordered me to take position, exposing my bare ass out. Then she whipped it with a crop. She didn't spare me. She went with full force, making a point.

“Stop,” Jack pleaded, genuinely afraid for me. But she continued. He tried to rush and grab the crop out of her hands.

I looked up, eyes tearing up. “Jack, please, if you interrupt her, she'll punish me more.”

He let it go, letting Sarah whip me again. Then he fell to his knees and kissed her foot.

“From now on, you'll call me Mistress. If you disobey me, there will be consequences, for you and for her. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress,” he answered.

She had him lay on the couch next to me, ass out, and he took a few hits of the crop. He would never disobey again.

Later that night, Sarah climbed in my bed. She hugged and kissed me tenderly.

“Are you okay,” she asked.

“Yes Mistress.”

“You understand why I had to punish you for his misdeeds?”

“Yes Mistress. He cares about me. He doesn't want you to hurt me.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Only in a good way Mistress.”

I kissed her. Of course it wasn't fair to be punished for someone else's actions. But she made me complicit in her act of domination. I played my role, for her, in bringing a man to his knees. I felt proud to have been part of it. She didn't have to tell me to plead to him, I did that on my. She trusted that I would understand and act accordingly, and I did. I did it for her. For me a little too. And for him, so he too can understand the feeling of being her submissive.

The next morning he knelt and kissed her foot. Nothing more for a week or two. She quickly told him to stop wearing clothes at home. The three of us, naked under the same roof.

Another week or two, and she had a package for him. He opened it in front of us. It was a steel cage for his penis. He was masturbating too much, she claimed, and so he had him put it on. She kept the key of course.

After that, Mistress would routinely order him to lick her pussy, or mine, or both. She would make him watch as we played together, his cock desperately aching to come out. He watch me get fucked by her strapon, get spanked by her hand, he was watched us pleasure each other to orgasm.

She broke him with ease. He was completely obedient to her, and soon she made her obedient to me too. She would watch me tease, order him around. Every morning, after he passionately kissed Mistress’ foot, he would kiss mine.

His birthday came up. Mistress had very big plans. We cooked up a very good meal, of his favorite things.

“I have two gifts for you,” Sarah told him, “because you have been an obedient toy, and I'm a generous Mistress.” She placed the key on the table. He recognized it immediately. “You can take it and unlock yourself.” He didn't hesitate.

She grabbed his hand, then she grabbed mine. All three of us went up into my room. She whispered into my ear.

“Do you want to take your son?”

“Yes Mistress,” I answered, without hesitation.

“Go lay down.”

She whispered into his ear next.

“Do you want to take your mother?”

“Yes Mistress,” he answered, without hesitation either.

“Go lay on her then.”

He climbed over me, trying to not make contact. He had been taught he should only touch me when ordered to.

“I'll leave you two to it,” Sarah said before leaving the room.

He wasn't sure what to do, but I was. I knew Mistress Sarah. His gift was me. No interference, no direction. So I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close.

Our bodies intertwined. He didn't resist the urge very long. Our tongues were dancing together when I felt his cock push past my labia. My son, my sweet son, making love to me, without a word, just a few grunts and moans. I felt his body warm up, his muscles tense and relax as he thrusted into me. I was sweaty, primal, raw sex.

He had been pent up for so long, he came quickly. I felt his cock tremble, spasm, the warm, gooey jet filling me. We remained locked like this, his member buried deep in my pussy, his body on top of mine, my arms and legs wrapped around him.

Mistress came back later, finding us cuddling. She put a finger up my pussy, coming out wet and sticky, with a little blob of white. She licked it clean, satisfied.

Then she dropped a box on the bed. “Your second gift,” she said. He opened it. Inside a set of panties. He looked at her, puzzled. “Come on, wear one.” He picked the first one on top of the pile, and put it on. It was pink with a floral print.

She made him stand out of the bed, wearing a very girly pair of underwear. He was blushing profusely. She was smiling ear to ear. “I threw away your boxers. From now on, you will wear these.” He looked at her, panicked and embarrassed.

“So what do you say for your gifts?”

It took a little moment of hesitation for him to answer, but he did.

“T-thank you Mistress.”

She didn't punish him. It was his birthday. She felt generous.

As she made him wear panties, she instructed me to wear lingerie too. She stopped being naked at home as well, wearing outfits one could only describe as mistress-ey. She could have passed for a school teacher, or an office boss.

Free from his cage, and with Mistress’ permission, I would avail myself to his cock regularly, two or three times a week. He would always sleep alone in his bed, while me and Sarah cuddled up naked.

After a few weeks, she called a house council. She had the complete look, blouse and jacket, long skirt, hair tied up in a bun, small glasses, subtle makeup, looking like she owned the place.

“Mother,” she said, sliding a contract towards me. Lots of clauses, conditions, and possible exceptions. But the gist is I would agree to submit completely. Every aspect of my life would be guided by her. I would be granted limited autonomy at work, or whenever the Mistress allowed. I would be punished for disobeying. She would guarantee my safety and happiness.

“It's time for you to decide if you want to commit, or if you want to stop.”

I would have signed it without looking, but she made me read it thoroughly. It didn't really change my mind. I was devoted. I signed my name, and she signed hers.

She stood up from her chair, walked up behind mine. I felt something around my neck, something cold. A large metal ring, steel. Inside of it, “property of Mistress Sarah” inscribed. But from the outside, it could pass for a normal piece of jewelry. According to the contract, I was to keep this on forever, unless instructed otherwise.

She went back to sit down, and I thanked her.

“Now you,” she turned towards Jack. “You're at a crossroads.” She slid two contracts towards him. “Read them both. Then pick one, or end the relationship. You have one week to decide.”

She meant it too. After the meeting, she told me to dress up, and meet her outside. She had packed a suitcase and booked a room in a hotel. Jack was to be alone with his decision.

I felt so conspicuous with my collar, wondering what people were thinking of it. I couldn't wait to be alone in a room. With Mistress of course. I spent a lot of time on my knees or tied to the bed in that hotel room. I still would go to work in the morning, with my new collar, fresh marks of paddling, and a remote controlled vibrator in my pussy.

I would come back late afternoon, to be used for her pleasure. She tried new things. She had me kneel in the shower, eating her out while she shampooed her hair. Well that wasn't new. What was new is she started to relieve herself. She pissed, all over me. And I thanked her for it.

She had me get to the grocery shop wearing wrist cuffs. They weren't tied, but they were obviously not jewelry. She tied me to the bed and used my body as a sushi plate while she sat her pussy on my face. She tested me, my obedience, and every time I would obey and thank her.

She rewarded me at the end of the week. A spa day, together, getting pampered, massaged and relaxed. It ended with an evening of passionate mother-daughter sex. I got to sit on her face for a change, to spank her. Then she would turn it around, and I'd be completely submissive again.

We returned home a week later. Jack had made his decision. He picked one of the contracts. Sarah had a big grin on her face when she read which one he picked. I didn't know what the other entailed. I only knew he chose this one willingly.

He knew what he signed into, but she explained it for my benefit.

“Your private name is now Jane. You can use your old name in public, but in any private setting, you will only answer to your private name. Do you understand, *Jane*?” She put a lot of emphasis on the name, to make a point.

“Yes Mistress,” ‘Jane’ answered.

“You're allowed to use your old wardrobe in public. But in private, you will only use the designated wardrobe. You will dress properly. Do your hair properly. Wear makeup properly. Do you understand, Jane?” She insisted again on the name.

“Yes Mistress.”

“You will use feminine pronouns in private. You may use masculine or neutral pronouns in public. But here, you're Jane, she, her. Do you understand, Jane?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“There was a business card with the contract. Did you try to make contact?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Did you meet her?”

“Yes Mistress.”

‘Her’, I found out later, was a psychiatrist that would help you figure out who you really are, as Sarah put it.

Sarah turned to me next. “Make sure you use her private name and pronouns, otherwise I will punish you.”

“Yes Mistress,” I answered.

Mistress charged me with shaving Jane's body, making sure it was smooth and feminine. Jane still had a masculine physique, but her hair was much longer than it used to, she was wearing softer fabrics and brighter colors. I had to teach her makeup. I had to help her learn to walk on heels. She was deeply embarrassed at first, but after a few weeks, she stopped blushing every time I watched her in a skirt.

It was always weird to see Jane turn back into Jack when he had to go to work. I'm not sure which I was attracted by more. The Mistress only allowed me to have sex with Jane. She was always wearing makeup and lingerie, and I would ride her cock, under the watchful eye of Sarah, masturbating at the sight of her mother and brother-slash-sister.

Over months, I noticed a change in Jack's clothes. His public personality was also becoming less masculine. He didn't have to. But he did it anyway. Jack was slowly disappearing. Soon, there would only be Jane left.

I saw them talk one morning. Sarah was wearing her usual attire, black blazer and skirt, blouse, stocking, heels, gold jewelry and subtle makeup, like she owned the place, and definitely like she owned us. Jane was wearing something you'd imagine a prostitute would wear. Tank top, microskirt, fishnets, platform shoes, and heavy makeup.

Then their lips came together. I had seen Jane kiss Sarah's feet, her legs, pussy, tits. This might have been the first time they kissed. I felt jealous. Sarah, my mistress, kissing someone else. She had given Jane a lot of attention. Sometimes I felt excluded but I had never said anything about it. I bottled it up. Until I saw them kiss. It all came out bursting.

I ran to my room crying. Sarah obviously noticed me because she came in a few minutes later. She sat next to my on the edge of the bed, wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her.

“What's going on, mom?” she asked.

I couldn't really give a coherent answer for a while. She just held me there while I bawled my eyes out.

“You're going to leave me too,” I manage to say.

She caressed my hair.

“Of course not. Where is this coming from?”

“I saw you, with Jane. You're always with Jane. And then…”

“Oh, I see what's gotten into you. My little incest slut mommy is jealous.”

“No, I…”

She squeezed me closer to her, her voice calm and soft.

“You crave attention, you think that because I gave some to Jane I'm not giving you enough anymore.” She plants a soft kiss on the top of my head and continues. “Maybe it's true I gave you a little less. I've been guiding Jane through the new her. I'm sorry if you felt neglected. But I have good news.”

She pulled me away from her, so she could look into my wet eyes.

“Jane told me something this morning. She… she'll be Jane all the time now.”

I was a little shocked, unsure of what that really meant. “You have a new daughter,” Jane said, though again I wasn't entirely sure what it meant, or what to feel.

Sarah took us to a nice restaurant. We all dressed up for the occasion.

Jane caught a lot of attention, not all positive. I could see a lot of judgment in people's eyes as we passed by. My Jane, my… daughter. Who were these people to think they could judge her like that? I wanted to hold her, protect her, tell her how much I loved her. And on the way home, I did. I ruined my makeup with tears, but they were good tears. Tears of love, warmth, compassion.

We finished the day all three of us tangled in bed, kissing, caressing.

I watched Jane lay on her back, and Sarah climb over her. She grabbed her cock and slid her pussy over it. It was their first time. Sarah had given Jane her strapon plenty of times. But it was the first time Jane fucked Sarah. She was still in charge, but she was the one getting penetrated. And I was there, laying right next to them, watching them, kissing them, touching myself. I wasn't jealous. I was happy.

We spent the rest of the night together. I would was double penetrated by the both of them. I helped Sarah spank Jane. I had my pussy licked by them, and then we took turns licking and sucking each other. We all came over and over. We were exhausted but too charged up to sleep. We kept going through early light.

The three of us finally fell asleep. I was sandwiched between my Mistress Sarah and my reborn daughter. It was a good night.

Jane didn't spend another night alone. She was one of us now, a woman, and Mistress said we would all share the same bed. Jane blossomed. A lot of hormones, and a little bit of surgery. Her past self was a distant memory. She found herself, and she was happy.

Sarah's belly started to grow. She was pregnant with Jane of course. It was no accident. As soon as Jane came out, Sarah availed herself to her cock and her cum. That was her secret desire all along. I craved attention and submission. Jane wanted to be a woman. And Sarah just wanted an incest baby.

I felt a little jealous, so Sarah made sure my belly started to grow soon after hers. Pregnancy didn't make her softer. She still spanked me, she still put me on my knees and made me lick her pussy clean, she still would strapon fuck my holes like the dirty incest subslut that I was. Jane helped her on occasions. And sometimes Jane was punished alongside me.

It was December. Early night. Jane's body between my thighs. Her cock pounding my wet pussy. My big round belly in the way. Sarah is on her back next to us. The magic wand is vibrating furiously between her legs. She caresses her belly.

“Fuck” she yells, startling me and Jane. “I think my water broke.” We grabbed the go-bag and rushed to a trusted friend's sorta unofficial clinic, somewhere nobody would ask inconvenient questions. I felt my own water break as I climbed in the car. I looked at my daughter. She looked back at me. We knew we were going to be mommies together. We kissed while Jane was running through traffic.

We held each other's hand, side by side on the birthing bed. We looked into each other's eyes. A new chapter of our lives was about to begin, and nothing made me happier than to write it with her.