The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As the ferry ploughed on through the fog, Nate’s phone buzzed again. He slipped it out of his jacket pocket; the second-to-last bar winked out, as they had been doing steadily since departing from the terminal.

Jessie: i miss u

He thumbed past the lock.

i miss u too. i can’t believe i have to do this.

Jessie:its ok. just try to have a good time!!!! :—)

middle of nowhere. not even any signal out here :—( this place better have wifi. i’ll text u when i get there.

Message not delivered. No bars. Nate cursed quietly.

“Yours not working either?” His mom, Marie, poked her head over his shoulder. “I told your dad I’d call him when we got there. I guess we’ll have to wait until we hit the room.” She sniffed. “Not that he cares.”

Nate bit his tongue and inhaled. It was going to be a long two weeks if he was going to have to listen to her complain about his dad the whole damn time. He looked around the boat; a couple of the other passengers, all of them couples or single women his mother’s age, were tucking phones away in purses or suitcases. At nineteen, he was almost definitely the youngest occupant of the boat. The ferry’s pilot was at least three times his age, a greying sinewy hippie of a woman with beaded hair, a tie-dye broomstick skirt and an enormous bubble vest in safety orange.

A dim light at the end of a dock-shaped shadow rose up through the mist. People began picking up their luggage, and the pilot throttled the engine down to a dull putter. A few steel radials hanging over the side of the hull scraped against the dock as she bounced to a stop.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” He shouldered his pack.

“Look at it this way,” Marie said, “you and Jessie are going to be gone to Cuba the day after we get back, then it’s off to college and I won’t see you again until Thanksgiving or Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t win a trip to somewhere a bit more fabulous, and I’m sorry your dad’s a dickhead who couldn’t be bothered to put in the time off to come, but maybe we should just make the best of it? Okay?”

“Okay, sure.” Nate hopped onto the dock, and gave his mom a hand as she made the jump herself. The other passengers filed over on the gangplank. They all clustered around a sign:

JOCASTA’S PLAYGROUND RESORT AND SPA

RECEPTION AND GUEST SUITES 30M →

CAFE 45M →

← SEASIDE OVERLOOK 10M

WELCOME, ENJOY AND LOSE YOURSELF

The mist swallowed up their footsteps as the group sauntered off to the right, a looming treeline almost visible in the distance. The website’s promo shots had promised an island of primeval Pacific forest and kilometers well-groomed hiking paths. Almost none of this was visible. What Nate did notice was a change in the air: it was warmer now, sweeter almost. He took a deep breath, and for the first time since leaving the house this morning, he felt better. It was hard to put a finger on, but he felt more at ease or relaxed or something. Nothing like good, clean, fresh air.

A few of the other passengers spoke together in hushed tones, some of the couples walking hand-in-hand, everybody huddled up in parkas or raincoats in the wet grey. Ahead of them, chimes tinkled and soon a warm square of light appeared in the mist. Eager to find relief from the chill, Nate and his mom quickened their pace, her long stride easily matching his.

The passage from dank grey afternoon across the threshold of the spa was like walking out of a shadow and into sunlight. The lobby of the spa was bathed in warm light from amber pots overhead, illuminating a wide, open space flanked on one side by a modern reception desk and on the opposite side by an enormous statue resembling the Willendorf Venus set in a natural grotto. Opposite the entrance, a set of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on a huge garden.

The air in here was even sweeter than it had been outside somehow, and Nate was immediately very warm in his jacket. Before he had time to process this, he heard the approaching sound of heels on hardwood.

“Oh my darlings,” said a lyrical female voice. “You’re all so wet. What a simply miserable day to arrive! Let’s get you checked in on to your suites at once.” The approaching woman was a statuesque blonde, with a mane of loose curls shot through with the odd streak of grey; she was wrapped up in a loose white labcoat and wide beige palazzo pants underneath. No amount of loose fabric, however, could hide the dramatic curves of her bosom and trim waist as she strode towards the group of damp travelers. The left breast of her jacket bore a nametag that read “Madeline,” and what Nate assumed to be the logo of the place: a black circle with a pair of red figures inscribed within, in the style of a Greek urn—the pneumatic motion underneath the labcoat made it hard to discern what the figures were doing, exactly, but they seemed entwined. He had only a few seconds to take it all in as his eyes were drawn upwards to her mouth, pink and pouty and frosted in a thick layer of gloss. Madeline was a well-preserved woman of middle-age, but she was shockingly beautiful nonetheless.

“I see some of our regulars have returned at last,” she strode between Nate and his mother in a cloud of perfume and into the crowd. “Katherine it’s so good to see you again! It’s been simply ages. And I see you’ve brought Jeffrey, your fine young man.” She clasped the hands of a couple close to her chest, then released them dramatically. “But I’m keep you all. Go, go! Get out of these wet things and explore!” She waved them on to the reception desk; as they walked away, Nate looked back and saw her speaking to Katherine and Jeffery. He hadn’t noticed before, but Jeffery looked at least ten years younger than his wife.

“Hey, stop staring, Romeo.” Marie hissed in his ear. “You’ve got a girl at home, remember? Besides, she looks older than I am.” He blushed hard.

“Sorry mom,” Nate mumbled as they queued up for the reception desk.

The woman behind the desk was a petite, older brunette with mischievous green eyes, and a black lab coat in the same style as Madeline’s, only this one bore a white patch. There was only one figure on the patch, a woman’s head, depicted in the same Grecian style.

“Hi,” the receptionist said in a smoky voice, “my name is Ronnie; welcome to Jocasta’s Playground. Are you two first timers here?”

Nate and Marie shared a look. “Yes,” she said. “I won a trip through ModernMommy.com; I didn’t even know I’d entered!”

“Oh good,” Ronnie said. “You must be Marie and Nate Whitby! We always like to expand our little family circle.” She looked down at her screen. “It looks like your suite is all set up; you two are in the Lilith. Here’s your key, and a list of services we provide here at Jocasta’s. Of course for you, everything will be comped for the duration of your stay.” A keycard slid across the desk, tucked inside a brochure. Her fingernails, trimmed short, bore a fine sheen of mother-of-pearl; the oilslick colours seemed to almost swirl in the light. Nate didn’t even realize how intently he was watching them until she slid her hand back under the desk.

“Comped?” Marie asked.

“Compensated for. It’s all free for you guys,” Ronnie winked conspiratorially. Marie gave the brochure a quick once-over and nodded appreciatively. “Now if you’ll just follow me, I’ll show you up. It’s a bit of a maze, I’m afraid.”

“What about our bags?” Nate asked.

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Ronnie shook her head. “I’ll get Barry to bring them up.” She knocked on the door of the office behind her, and a tall, very well-muscled young man in his early twenties opened it. He was wearing a tight white T-shirt and a pair of loose white gym pants. “Barry honey, be a dear and bring these bags up to the Lilith suite, will you?” She patted him on the cheek, and Barry’s blandly handsome face lit up with a smile.

“Sure thing, mom.” The tall young porter bounded around the desk and scooped up Marie and Nate’s luggage. He headed off in long, powerful strides, and vanished down the corridor.

Ronnie shook her head.

“He’s a a good boy,” she said. “But maybe a little too eager. This way, guys.” Ronnie walked around the edge of the desk: below the hem of the short coat, Ronnie wore a pair of smoky-grey yoga leggings that flowed through every curve and muscle in her legs, obviously the work of many hours in a squat rack. A tiny version of the logo on her jacket flashed on the back if her left calf as she walked. A pair of black spa sandals slapped against her bare feet as her toenails, painted in the same mother-of-pearl as her fingers, glistened wetly. Nate found himself staring again, and was a little disappointed as she passed by. He wasn’t so disappointed that he failed to appreciate the sway and bob of her labcoat as Ronnie led them down the corridor, the hem bouncing just below her buttocks. Every now and again, he was treated to a hint of her curvy behind. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a terrible vacation after all.

His reverie was broken by a sharp elbow in the side.

“Do you mind?” Marie hissed in his ear. “I realize you’re a walking sack of hormones, but can you at least try to keep your eyes in your head while I’m around? You can do what you want on your own damn time.”

“Sorry mom,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, Ronnie was explaining the purpose of the rooms they were passing, unheeded. The walls were largely floor-to-ceiling glass panels, those on the left showing the mist-shrouded forest, the ones on the right largely frosted to obscure what was going on within; occasionally someone would emerge from a sliding door marked “Yoga Grotto” or “Massage” or similar, breathing hard and coated in a sheen of sweat, in a fluffy white spa robe or some flavour of athletic gear.

“Coming up here on the right is the centrepiece of Jocasta’s—the natural hotsprings.” Ronnie waved at a frosted door. The title read ‘Heartspring.’ “Go ahead, take a peek.”

Marie and Nate shared a look, and she pulled the door open. A rush of warm, wet air flooded the corridor.

“Holy shit,” Nate said.

Sunk deep into the floor of the resort, the Heartspring sat neatly in a natural pool some thirty feet long and ten across. Open to the sky and surrounded by a wealth of greenery, the room was clouded with steam rising from the pool. The water itself, however, was pink as a strawberry smoothie, and gently churning from below.

“Nobody knows exactly why the water looks this way,” Ronnie spoke softly behind them. “But it’s a stunning sight, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah.” Marie replied.

Nate just stared. Not at the water, though. At the far end of the pool, a couple snuggled in the corner, very obviously making out. The woman wore a long shock of silver hair, while her partner was some decades younger.

“We should probably let them have their privacy, hey?” Ronnie intruded on Nate’s thoughts. “It’s a popular spot for pairs to relax after a long day of detoxing or enjoying some of our more...strenuous...pastimes.” They let the door slide shut, and followed the receptionist onward into the depths of the resort. The way wasn’t as labyrinthine as first described, but it was quite a walk; it was another five or ten minutes before they reached their suite.

“Here you are, guys.” Ronnie winked at them, as she keyed the lock and slid the door open. “Enjoy yourselves, now.”

The “suite” was an enormous, open-concept room in hardwood panelling and glass, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the darkened forest. An overstuffed cream-coloured couch was turned towards a modern-looking fireplace, where a shimmering, gas-fed flame rippled.

“Holy crap, it’s not exactly long on privacy.” Marie gestured at the steel and glass-enclosure that was the room’s only bathroom, including a shower with an array of heads and separate inset tub that looked large enough to accommodate a Roman orgy.

“Mom,” Nate pointed. “Look at that.” A king-sized bed beckoned from a pedestal three steps up from the floor. All around it and on the bedside tables that flanked it, candles burned, filling the room with the same warm, sweet aroma he’d detected outside. Music played in the background, barely audible. “Why didn’t you ask for a double room?”

“I thought I did.” Marie scratched her head. “Get your stuff settled, and I’ll call down to the front desk. Where the hell is the phone, anyway?”

“Sure.” He dropped his knapsack and stretched, overcome by a sudden drowsiness. The bed looked so big...so comfortable. Nate climbed the steps, and from somewhere he heard a phone ringing. It didn’t seem very important, though. Not while the bed was there, all crisp clean white sheets and thick, luxurious pillows. He hoisted himself up onto it, feeling the springiness of the mattress, embracing him like a warm hug from a loved one.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

“Nate? Nate honey?” A hand nudged his shoulder. “Are you planning to wake up today, or what?”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Groggily, Nate pushed the hand away, and cracked an eye. Marie loomed over him, grinning impishly, her ash-blonde hair a tousled halo around her head; the crazily-looping locks and slight blush in her cheek gave his mother that freshly-fucked look he’d seen on his girlfriend. Nate felt a sudden surge of guilt at the thought of Jessie, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Marie was wearing a white tank-top and loose matching pants in some flowing cottony fabric; the Jocasta name and logo were stitched out in rhinestones across the front of the tank, sparkling in the bright daylight flooding the suite. Still sleepy, Nate watched them shimmer as she shook him again, eyes tracing the contours of her breasts; her posture and the skimpy shirt made them impossible to ignore, and...was that a hint of pink he could see through the fabric?

“Waaaaaake uuuuuppp,” Marie laughed, giving him one last shake before crawling off the bed.

“Shit, sorry mom,” Nate struggled to sit up in the bed. “Sorry. I must have passed right out last night.”

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” She said. “You slept like a log all night, but you missed all the excitement.”

“Excitement?” He was wide awake now. “What excitement.”

“See for yourself,” Marie jerked a thumb over her shoulder. Their bags stood in a jumble near the door. “That dumbass who was supposed to bring our bags up last night rammed them into a cart of massage oils instead and ruined just about everything. All my clothes, most of your stuff, everything.”

“Holy fuck!” Nate rolled off the bed and strode over to the luggage. His bag squelched loudly when he touched it.

“The spa said they’d pay to replace everything, but for now, they’ve given us free reign in the proshop.”

“Awesome.” He said.

“Anyway, I’m going to go take a shower. I don’t know if you want to run down there to pick up some extra clothes or what—I doubt you want to be in here while I’m naked.” Marie gestured at the highly-visible-from-every-corner-of-the-suite shower cubicle and waggled her eyebrows.

“Oh, right.” Nate stood, suddenly very aware of his sweaty, slept-in clothes. “I guess I’ll be back in...”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Twenty minutes!” He said.

“Good boy!” Marie enthused, and turned to walk into the ‘bathroom.’ He noticed that the seam of her pants had crawled in between her buttocks, defining her meaty behind as it jiggled slightly and twitched back and forth. Jessie’s was so much skinnier, and flat besid—

“See ya!” Nate shouted, and hurried out the door.

Even following the signs on the walls, it took him at least ten minutes just to get back down to the lobby, winding his way through the labyrinthine corridors. Everywhere, it seemed, couples strolled through the spa, lingered in half-empty function rooms, or cuddled up in the occasional nook hidden throughout.

Taking a hard left, Nate almost walked into a pair quietly occupying a bench overlooking the fogged-in Pacific Northwest forest. They both wore thick, fleecy robes emblazoned with the Jocasta logo, and the woman at least wore very little else; the robe was pulled back over one long, bare thigh, exposing her up to the upper curve of her hip, and the loose vee revealed a deep, succulent cleavage. The man was lying back with his head in her lap while she stroked his hair. He was so suddenly astounded by the sheer volume of exposed female flesh that he it took a moment for him to recognize Katherine and Jeffery, who had come over on the ferry with him the night before.

Ducking quickly back around the corner, Nate couldn’t help but peer at them, reflecting that Jeffrey was a lucky dude. He really hadn’t noticed Katherine the night before, but the morning light was apparently very flattering for her: hair that had been lank and damp the night before had unfurled and curled out into a thick chestnut halo around her face; her eyes twinkled in the grey light from the window, and plush sensuous lips made love to each whispered word she spoke to Jeffrey. She looked like an absolute goddess, to be frank, and that was before he even took into consideration the smooth ivory of her leg or the swell of her breasts under the thick terry robe.

Long fingers toyed with Jeffrey’s hair, and she laughed a low and smoky chuckle.

Once again, Nate noticed how much younger he was than she—ten years at least, though she looked so radiant somehow it was hard to pin down how much, really—but they made it look so natural; an experienced, older woman taking a young man in hand, guiding him, teaching him, making him her loyal pup—

Nate shook his head. What was he thinking? Where the hell had that come from?

Looking over, he saw that Jeffrey had rolled over onto his stomach; he was kissing the flawless skin of Katherine’s thigh as she curled her fingers in his hair, and she was saying something to him that Nate couldn’t catch; he responded, and Nate’s breath caught in his throat.

Shifting slightly in the seat, Katherine spread the robe further, pushing Jeffrey’s head between her legs; her hips lifted, drowning the young man in her firm flesh as both hands held his face still. Low, wet moans filled the cubicle, but Nate was no longer there to watch. He’d backed away and walked as quickly and quietly as he could down the corridor, head spinning, sure he hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen. It wasn’t possible. It was crazy. He was no lip reader any damn way.

There was no way Jeffrey had called her “MOM” before finding his way between her legs.

It was a considerable relief to finally make it to the ‘proshop’—really just a capacious gift-shop near the entrance—if only because his surprisingly persistent erection made it difficult to walk with any speed away from Katherine and Jeffrey’s tryst. Here, at least, he could hide among the clothes racks while it subsided.

Even if everything down here was comped for them as well, it wouldn’t do him much good. He flipped through another rack of sports bras, each with a rhinestone logo printed over the left breast.

“Nathaniel, honey?” A voice quietly asked behind him. “Did Marie let you get away?” He wheeled around to see Ronnie’s impish green eyes looking up at him from under the fringe of her pixie-cut, only an inch or two away. Somehow her lips looked extra pink and slick this morning, and Nate was very aware that the white tank she was wearing under her black labcoat did a dismal job of concealing the hard, firm swells of her small breasts, unbound and apparently unaffected by gravity.

“I’m surprised she’d let you out of her sight, a strapping young man like you,” her eyes raked him up and down and she smiled hungrily. “There are all all kinds of unsavory characters out here who might prey on a—”

“Hey mom, I got it,” Barry stumbled in through the stockroom door, carrying a cardboard box half again his own size. He dropped it on the floor unceremoniously, and Ronnie turned to chide him loudly. Nate heaved a sigh of relief, and quickly moved to put the sports bras between them.

“Now then, Nathaniel,” she turned back towards him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Oh, uh, well all of our stuff got kinda ruined when your son sort of, well—” Nate gestured and made a face. Ronnie shot a look over her shoulder, and Barry gave the floor a hangdog look. “So I need new stuff to wear while we’re here, but it’s all, I mean it’s, you know.” He pulled a bra off the rack and shook it.

“I see I see,” she nodded. “We do have a...limited selection of menswear, but I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s very comfortable. Barry wears it all the time.” The look she gave her son this time was one of appraisal. “Don’t you, sweetiebear?”

“Yep!” Barry grinned. “It’s real stretchy n soft!”

“Over here,” Ronnie strode over to a single rack on the far side of the store, near the back; Nate followed. From one side of the rack hung a dozen or so pairs of black pants; from the other, white t-shirts. She plucked one of each from the rack and handed them to Nate. “Here, Nathaniel. These look about your size. You go ahead and get changed.” She indicated a changing room. “And I’ll take your old stuff down to the laundry room to get cleaned.”

“Take it?” Nate asked. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’d rather keep my—”

“Take it.” Ronnie said, firmly. The words sounded like doors slamming shut, and he found he was suddenly unwilling to argue.

“Sure,” he said, and took the clothes from her. She gave him a wink.

Well, Barry’s endorsement certainly turned out to be true—the loose-fitting jersey of the pants was luxuriously, decadently soft. After sliding them up his legs, Nate decided on a whim to freeball it, and whipped them off to toss his underwear on the unsightly pile of sweaty stuff on the floor. The tee was similar, if more fitted than he usually liked—his swimmer’s body was much more prominent than usual—but the fabric just felt so good.

Nate was so distracted by the clothes that he didn’t even see Ronnie’s hand slip under the door to filch his old stuff.

“How’s it going in there?” She called through the door.

“Great! It’s a good fit!”

“See? I told you. Come on out whenever you’re ready!”

Padding back out into the store in bare feet, Nate found Ronnie and her son conversing quietly behind the counter. At least, it looked like they were conversing; hugging, really, though Ronnie’s hands roamed across Barry’s broad back.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna take these if that’s okay?” Nate watched Ronnie’s fingers dig deep into her son’s back, then let go. When they peeled themselves apart, she looked flushed. Barry didn’t even turn around, just headed into the backroom.

“Of course that’s okay, Nathaniel.” Ronnie said, and motioned for him to come closer. “Just give me the tags so I can ring it through.”

Her fingers lingered a moment in his palm as she took them.

“Did you want to grab something for Marie while you’re down here?”

Nate looked around helplessly. “I’m really not sure where I’d even start.”

“With basics, honey.” Ronnie said. “Fundamentals.” She winked at him, and out from behind the sales counter. She swept back the tails of her cardigan and stood with her hands on her hips. Ronnie’s tank top hewed closely to her compact, obviously-sculpted body, from the firm-but-small handfuls of her breasts to her six-pack rack of abdominal muscles. He could even see the knot of a bellybutton ring protruding through the white cotton, but the stiff peaks of her nipples drew his eyes upwards.

“For example, how’s she fixed for pants? Every girl needs a couple pairs of basic leggings these days, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to wear those pyjamas we sent up last night. Now, take these—” she gestured at her legs. The burgundy leggings she’d been poured into came to just below the knee, showing off the thick plates of her calves and the corded muscle of her thighs. “They’re made out of a material similar to your pants, so they’re super soft and extra comfy. Why, I practically live in these things! Why don’t you come here and feel for yourself?”

“That’s probably not—”

“Come here. And feel. For yourself.” Again, somehow every word was like a door slamming shut in his brain. It couldn’t hurt, really, could it? He had to see for himself. For his mom.

Nate stepped forward, only vaguely aware of the erection slowly unfurling in his pants.

Ronnie took his hand in both of hers and gently laid it on her thigh. It was warm. So warm. And firm. His fingers squeezed a little, reflexively. She squeezed something and the flesh underneath his hand became like steel. The thin skein of fabric was stretched tight, into a smooth layer that was almost hard to keep a hold of, but was so luxurious and soft to the touch that Nate kept having to readjust his grip, just to touch it slightly longer.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? They’ve got just a little bit of sheen, but they’re completely opaque. No matter how close you get, you’d never be able to see through them.”

“No?” Nate said, distracted.

“Not at all. Here.” She turned around, and suddenly the twin globes of her ass were pointing right at him, thick and muscular and begging for his outstretched hand. Ronnie slowly began to bend at the waist. “Why don’t you get a little closer and see—”

Barry barged back in through the stockroom door. “Hey mom! Was that long enough?” Nate’s hand shot back and she stood up, a petulant look on her face.

“Yeah, just send some of those up, I guess?” Nate’s face was flushed as he backed away from Ronnie, very much awake now and very aware of how large the other young man loomed in the doorway. “I’ll just head on up. Maybe mom can come down herself? Thanks for all your help!” This last was shouted as the shop door closed behind him.

He returned to the room in a fraction of the time it took him to get to the lobby in the first place, motivated not a little by the prodigious erection that refused to behave itself; the soft fabric of the pants didn’t help much, gently caressing the shaft as he walked, thick head straining against the front.

Nate had just worked it around to a less embarrassing position—hand firmly in pocket, holding it down—when he scuttled back into the suite.

“There you are!” Marie said, hands on her hips. “I was starting to wonder if you’d died out there.” She was wearing a thick white robe, much like Katherine’s had been. Had hers been so abbreviated? Had his mom’s legs always been so long?

Marie shook her hair out of the towel it was wrapped in, giving it a gentle shake and then a vigorous rub.

“Is that what they gave you at the shop?” She said, padding over. “Lookin’ good, handsome. Jessie’s going to love it when she sees you in that.”

“Aw, mom.” A flood of shame washed through Nate at the thought of his girlfriend. Marie’s arm slid over his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. Her hand lingered, gently fingering the fabric of the t-shirt.

“Ohmigod, Nate. It’s soooo soft.” She giggled. “I hope the women’s stuff feels just as good.” He tried not to think about the feel of Ronnie’s thigh in his hand. “If not, I might just have to steal this from you.” She leaned in closer, and he was suddenly enveloped in a perfumey cloud.

“Oh, phew honey. You might look scrumptious, but you smell like a locker room. Go and wash up, please.” Marie pushed him away playfully. The warmth of her arm over his shoulders lingered for a short while.

“Yeah, sure.” He started stripping off his t-shirt, then turned to Marie. “Uh, aren’t you gonna... you know...” Nate nodded at the door.

“Don’t be silly, sweetie. I’ve still got to dry my hair and make myself presentable before I can go out there, and you need to wash something awful.” She strode up into the bathroom, smooth inner thigh flashing with each step, and started rummaging through the vanity drawers for a hair dryer. Nate looked away as the hem of her robe rose perilously high. “Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Mom, come on.” He protested. “I’m nineteen. It’s not—”

“Appropriate?” She bent over a little further, to search the lowest drawer. He stared at the ceiling, pointedly not looking, even if he could still kinda see a little something in his peripheral vision.

“I’ll tell you what, honey.” Marie gave a little cry of triumph and pulled the dryer out, then turned to face him. “You take a shower, and I’ll turn my back. I won’t see a thing, I promise.”

“You promise?”

“Scout’s honor, Nate.” She put one hand on her breast and saluted with the other. “Or is it the other way around?” She switched hands. The front of her robe gradually fell into disarray, revealing an ever-deepening vee of plush boobflesh.

“Alright, alright, alright.” He quickly strode past her, pulling off his shirt. Starting the shower, he didn’t yank his pants down until he heard the dryer start. Looking over, he saw Marie was standing on the other side of the suite by a window, giving her hair the once-over and watching the last wisps of fog burning away in the sunlight over the forest. He heaved a sigh of relief, and, feeling safer than he had in an hour or so, stepped inside the glass shower cube.

It was still soapy and damp from Marie’s shower, and the smell of whatever she’d used to wash was much more powerful here. A wall-mounted soap dispenser dripped with a pearlescent substance. He thought briefly about going back out to his bag to get his own shampoo and stuff, but it just smelled so...good in here. Comforting, kinda. Warm. A little bit spicy, a little bit something else. He reached over and pumped a quarter-sized dollop into his hand.

The label on the soap dispenser read: “CRAFTED here at Jocasta’s Playground from an ancient mixture of local herbs and minerals found only in our very own Heartspring, FRIGG’s TEARS is a unique, deep-cleansing aromatherapy shampoo and body wash designed to relax and enhance your stay with us here at the Playground. Lather up, breathe deep, and enjoy yourself!”

Nate looked down at the puddle of goop in his palm, and smeared it across his stomach, lean and muscular from half a decade leading the school swim team. The lather was thick and vaguely silky and rewarded him with a burst of that smell. A smile lazily crept across his face, and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed. He let out a deep breath and felt the worries that had knotted up his stomach all morning untie themselves.

He worked in the soap, building up a good creamy coat across his midsection, just relishing the feel. It was smooth and buttery and good to touch, much like Ronnie’s thigh had been.

Nate closed his eyes and thought of her, hand scrubbing downwards. He pumped out a second squirt of soap, and began washing around his cock, which had never quite deflated, though it was slightly soft and floppy. With a second burst of the FRIGG’s TEARS perfume, it thickened almost immediately, standing to attention as he wrapped his soapy fist around his member. It felt fatter than it ever had before, somehow, fit to explode.

Slowly working his cock, the image of Ronnie’s thigh, the feel of it under his hand, the thick, sculpted roundness of her ass, barely contained within the confines of her pants, kept rolling through Nate’s head. He was working up such a lather around his stiff pole that he almost didn’t catch the sound of somebody knocking on the suite door.

Painfully aware of the commanding view of the shower that was offered by virtually every corner of the room, Nate whipped around to face the rear wall and stood stock still, hoping that the steam on the glass would at least offer some coverage of his naked ass.

Outside the cubicle, he heard the hair dryer shut off. Then,

“Oh! Barry, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Mom said Nathaniel left some stuff for you at the store, and said I should bring it up.”

“Well isn’t that lovely?” Marie trilled while Nate silently cursed Barry (not for the first time). “Thank you, Barry. Do I owe you anything or...”

“Nono, Mom says it’s all on the house since I wrecked your stuff. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it; these things happen.” The door clicked shut. “Nathaniel Whitby! I never would have thought you had it in you to pick out clothes for your old mom. Thank you so much, honey.”

“Uh, no problem. The lady at the store helped a lot.” He wondered whether Ronnie had included a pair of the leggings she’d insisted he feel. Nate reached over and got another squirt of the body wash. Quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure that his mother wasn’t looking, as per her promise, he started scrubbing again, and was rewarded with another relaxing burst of scent. It wasn’t very long afterwards that his hand began wandering southwards again.

This time, he resolved, he’d think of his girlfriend, who’d fueled more than one shower fantasy. Jessie was a lissome blonde no taller than Ronnie, but half her size nonetheless. Skinny, really. Rail-thin, like her legs, which had nothing on Ronnie’s muscled sculptures or Katharine’s long, ivory columns and plush thighs.

Nate shook his head and tried to focus, working himself a bit harder. His dick refused to respond much further than half-mast. Every time he tried to picture Jessie in his head, he kept comparing her to somebody else, and she kept coming up short for some reason. Even that cute little butt (that she’d promised he could have when he got back from this enforced vacation) seemed pinched and...flat, really, once you got down to it, if you compared it to Ronnie’s or even his—

He cast another look over his shoulder, making sure his mother wasn’t watching. Marie had upended a bag onto the couch, and was sifting through the pile of clothing, making noises of approval. Turning back around, he gave his cock another shot of the soap and just let his mind wander.

“Do you like them?” Jessie asked in his imagination, wearing the burgundy leggings Barry’s mother had been showing off. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her legs looked kind of like grape pixie stix in them.

“Touch them. See for yourself.” She turned around, and suddenly he was looking at Ronnie’s thickly muscled globes. “Just get a little closer, they’re completely opaque.”

In the shower, his cock came surging back to life.

His fingers sank deeply into warm, luscious flesh. “That’s it, honey.” Looking up, he saw Katherine’s face, smiling down at him. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Her behind was plush but firm and inviting. “Try getting on your knees, sweetie.”

Imagination Nate knelt as she turned around in his hands. The leggings were suddenly gone and he was staring at a bare pussy, dripping with excitement. Where Jessie’s was a small, discrete peach between her legs, Katherine’s had fully blossomed, fat labia framing deep scarlet, swollen inner lips beneath a neatly trimmed triangle of hair. It looked like nothing less than a decadently sweet fruit, just begging him to taste. Her hand settled on the back of his head, and pushed him forward. “Just how it was meant to be, honey.”

In the shower, his cock gently pulsed precum over his fist.

“Ohhh, Nate, these are just divine.” Opening his eyes, he glanced back. Still facing away from the shower, Marie was pulling a pair of black yoga pants into place, just tugging the waistband up over the upper curve of her ass. It bobbed gently with each pull, firm flesh jiggling under the smooth black spandex, but springing immediately back into shape.

His balls jumped and contracted, and a thick plume of cum splashed against the back wall of the shower cubicle. Nate grunted despite himself as the orgasm swept through him, pumping out what felt like a gallon of sperm as his fist continued stroking it out. It wasn’t until the final spurt dribbled over his knuckles that the shame overtook the afterglow, and he frantically tried to wipe the thick goo from the glass and encourage it into the drain.

“Nate? Are you alright in there?” Marie knocked on the door. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “You’ve been in there a while.”

“Yup! Just finishing up!” He quickly dispensed another squirt of FRIGG’S TEARS and washed his hair. Less than a minute later, he was out, vigorously towelling himself off and avoiding eye contact with his mother.

“Honey, these leggings are beautiful. I could just live in them. And so many colours! Thank you so much!” Marie hugged him from behind.

“No problem, mom. The lady at the shop helped, like I said.” He shrugged her off. “Can I get dressed now?”

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment, anyway.” She laughed. “But you might have thought about picking up some underwear.”

Nate yanked his pants up and hauled his shirt on, trying not to think too hard about that comment.

Marie had changed into a loose white tunic that draped over her chest in a clingy jersey cotton. It was high-necked but there was no disguising the prodigious swells of her breasts, or the peaks of her nipples. The hem fell to mid-thigh and Nate thanked whomever was watching over him for small miracles.

“So, I’m going to a class for eleven o’clock, but after that, did you want to get out and explore the island for a bit?” She said, sitting on the couch indian-style and tugging the hem of her shirt over her knees.

“Yeah, sure. What kind of class is it?”

“Some kind of meditation class or something,” she pulled a brochure from between the couch cushions and opened it. “It’s called Finding your Voice—Discovering the Goddess Within. It’s only an hour or so; then maybe we’ll go get some lunch or something?”

“Okay. Do you know where my phone is? I thought maybe I’d text Jess while you’re gone.” He cast about, suddenly worried that maybe he’d left it in the jeans Ronnie had sent down to the laundry.

“No reception here, remember? It’s a retreat.”

“Ah fuck. Is there a phone in the room?”

“Probably, if you can find it.” She gestured at the windows and scant furniture. “It might be in a drawer somewhere, but I haven’t seen one. There’s not even a TV here, Nate. You might have some luck at the reception desk.” Nate had somewhat mixed feelings about asking Ronnie for a phone to call Jessie.

Marie shrugged. “I was thinking—maybe it’s not a bad thing if we don’t call home so much? It’s not like your dad gave enough of a shit to come in the first place, and quite frankly, I think you and Jessie could probably cool it a bit. I don’t want to end up the first grandmother among my friends. I’m only 40.”

“Mom! That’s ridiculous! We’re going to Cuba—”

“Nate,” Marie used her best mom-voice. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

“Fine, whatever.” He folded his arms. “Maybe I’ll hit the pool or something.”

“Sounds good, if your trunks survived the oiling. Maybe there’s a class or something you can take.” She unfolded herself and stood up; he was struck by how long her legs seemed. Marie handed him the brochure. “Anyway, I’m off. I’ll see you in an hour, okay?”

“Yup.” Sitting down on the recently-vacated couch, Nate unfolded the brochure, which listed Jocasta’s numerous spa services and facilities. The last three pages or so were just a listing of classes:

Finding your Voice—Discovering the Goddess Within. A one-hour introductory class for women new to Jocasta’s Playground, led by our very own Madeline Kincaide. Come to the Heartspring and learn about the Jocasta philosophy and Method, and empower your inner Mother Goddess and learn to let Her Speak! 1hr.

A number of meditation and mindfulness classes followed, all touting the “Jocasta method”

Translating Tongues—Bringing the Jocasta Method home when you leave! Learn to assert your Goddess nature not only here on the island, but in your own home and workplace! 1hr. Love Thyself—Learn how the Jocasta method can help you learn to find your own perfection and appreciate the Goddess that is You. 1hr.

There were some couples classes, some of which seemed awfully...tantric to Nate, but there didn’t seem to be anything specifically aimed at dudes, until he got to the end.

For the Boys—An introductory class for men accompanying their Jocastas to the Playground. Come talk to Madeline at the Hartspring about the Jocasta Philosophy and Method, and learn your place in it! 1hr.

“Well, whoop-de-fuck,” he said, folding it. The pool wouldn’t be available for a swim for at least an hour—there was something called “Beachy Keen with the Jocasta Method (for Couples)” going on down there right now.

He stretched out on the couch, watching the sun streaming in through the windows. As always, the background music piped throughout the resort chimed away, just above the threshold of hearing. Nate kept thinking he heard a voice in it, a woman’s voice, but he couldn’t be sure.

The sun was warm, though. So warm...

The slam of the suite door jolted Nate awake.

Awake? When did he even fall asleep? Groggily, he sat up.

“Well, hellllo sleepyhead!” Marie chirped. “Didn’t make it to the pool after all, hey? If you keep on sleeping so much, I’m going to start thinking there’s something wrong.” Her face fairly glowed with elation, and her hair shimmered in the afternoon sun.

“You look like you had a good time.” He said, sitting up.

“Ohmigod Nate, it was so good.” She plopped down onto the couch next to him, crossing her legs. One slender, bare foot bounced gently. “I feel like a million bucks. Before today I would have called all that ‘mindfulness’ stuff so much bullshit, but now I feel like I really know myself, you know? Like I reached down deep inside of me and pulled the real me up to the surface.” Nate watched her foot bounce. Had her legs always been so long, or was it just some magic of the leggings? Unbidden, he remembered the smoothness of Ronnie’s legs.

“So this is the real you?”

“Nate honey, I learned so much.” She turned to face him, tucking the inside leg under outside. His mother’s breasts jostled against each other excitedly under her tunic. “Madeline taught us how to tap into our real selves, to realize our ‘Inner Goddess’ and assert ourselves like we should. There was this whole ceremony where we drank from the Heartspring and she taught us how to find our Goddess Voice and use it to speak to the world to get what we want.”

“Your what?” She was kicking her outside leg back and forth, and Nate was finding it hard to pay attention to what she was saying.

“My Goddess Voice.” Marie laughed. “The Voice of the Mother Goddess, the Goddess of the World.” Leaning back, she stretched her arms above her head and kicked her legs out. The hem of her tunic rose high above the waistband of her leggings, showing off a long slice of firm stomach. Her feet hovered over Nate’s lap before she plopped them down on his thighs, relaxing. “Madeline says we have to let our Goddess speak through us if we’re going to get what we want.”

Nate pretended to rub the sleep from his eyes and tried to ignore the excited wriggling of her feet. “Oookay,” he said. “And what is it you want?”

“Hmmmm,” she mused. “We spent all day yesterday on our feet, so I would like...” she gave him a wry grin. ”A foot rub.”

Her voice hadn’t changed, as far as he could tell. There was no audible difference between her Goddess Voice and her regular voice, but the words fell in his brain like doors slamming shut. Nate found himself shifting on the couch to take one of her feet in both hands, thumbs firmly planted on the wrinkly sole.

“Like this?” He asked, running his thumbs from heel to toe, digging in around the ball of her foot.

“Ohhhhh, Nate.” Marie groaned from deep in her diaphragm. “Yes just like that, honey.” She pressed one foot into her son’s hand as he applied pressure, and the other into his lap, toes scrunching up a hair’s breadth from his dick. Nate worked over his mother’s foot, eliciting wet moans of encouragement with each pass. Soon, he was kneading each individual toe, then driving his thumbs deep into her heel, which made her squirm.

Panting and flushed, Marie looked at her son. “Now, switch.” He picked up the second foot and began repeating the process. Her right foot fell in his lap, lying right atop his slumbering cock and pressing into it with each push of his thumbs. Nate felt it begin to stir, and prayed silently for the ordeal to end.

“Mmmmm, honey. That’s good, sweetheart. You can stop now if you like.” He let the foot drop into his lap, trying to control his erection through sheer force of will. “Nate, you’re so much better at that than your father; he hates touching my feet with a passion, but you made mommy’s feet so happy, baby. Look at them.” He looked down, and watched her toes curling and uncurling with pleasure, kneading the fabric of his pants, causing it to slide teasingly over the shaft of his cock. “Aren’t they happy toes?“

“I guess, yeah.”

“Sweetheart, trust me: they loooove you.” She lifted one foot towards his face. “See? Now they want kisses.” The smooth skin of her foot brushed his cheek.

“Mom, I’m not going to—”

“Kisses,” she pouted. Gently, he took her ankle and heel in hand, and kissed her proffered foot just above her toes; his lips luxuriated in the softness of her skin, and he breathed deeply of the shower scent that still clung to her somehow. Then he planted a gentle kiss on each toe, letting the big one push between his lips for a moment. He repeated the process on the other foot once his mother lifted it for him. Nate knew that it wasn’t something he should be doing, that kissing his mom like this was wrong, but it just felt so comfortable, so right, so easy to do it.

“Mmmm,” she purred. “Now those are happy feet. I see somebody else is happy too.” Marie laughed, wriggled her foot, and Nate realized that his cock had come roaring back to life without so much as giving him notice. The stretchy fabric of the gym pants was pulled tightly into an enormous tent, with his pulsating cockhead at the peak.

Feeling dizzy and a little drunk, he leapt to his feet, grabbing a cushion from the couch and jamming it over his hard-on.

“Oh god, mom, mom. I’m so sorry, mom.” He hunched over to further hide it, though Nate felt no signs of it flagging. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, it’s not like- I mean it just—”

Marie laughed again, and let one leg spread lazily out ward, foot drifting to the floor. The crotch of her leggings was pulled tight over the mound of her pubis. He looked away, pointedly.

“Oh Nate, honey, don’t worry about it. I know what you boys are like. You’ve been away from Jessie for what? Two whole days now. Sex, sex, sex is all you can think about, and when you’re all pent up, sometimes it doesn’t take very much to get a young man like yourself going.” Her fingers toyed idly with the hem of her tunic, and it drifted higher. “Why, I bet it’s already going down.” He could feel the blood flowing away from his groin, and eventually he let the pillow drop.

“You see why I’m worried that I’ll end up a grandmother before the year is out? If you’re that horny, honey, I’m afraid you’re just going to fuck her pregnant.” Marie gave him a lazy smile; her big toe traced circles on the hardwood floor. “Besides, it means less time for footrubs if you’re out with her scrawny self every night. I really do think you should slow things down with Jessie, honey. Take a break, maybe.“

The biggest door yet slammed shut in Nate’s head. He felt something draining away, some slippery undefinable something he couldn’t quite grasp and he groaned, feeling the loss.

“Don’t you agree, Nate? Maybe it’s time for you and Jessie to take a break.”

“Yesssss,” the word was dragged out of him by her voice, her Goddess Voice, but he knew it was true. He knew that he’d just fuck Jessie pregnant, that he’d wreck his life if he stayed with her skinny ass, suck with her rail-thin, underweight self.

“We both know she’s not good enough for you anyway, honey. You need to find someone a little more your speed.” Nate rubbed his head as her Goddess Voice snaked in. How could he have wasted so much time with Jessie? He’d met or seen at least four full-grown women who were superior in the last 24 hours alone!

“Madeline explained everything; it all makes so much sense now.” Marie shifted on the couch and let her legs drift further open. “Men and women are like the yin and the yang, the same, but opposites. We mature and change in the opposite directions. Men are at their best when they are young, but women grow and change and age into Goddesses. Our bodies become more plush, more luscious, aging like fine wines until they are the purest distillation of the female form.”

“Mom, what are you talking about, I—”

“Be quiet, Nate, and listen.” His mouth clapped shut. Marie’s other hand started tracing patterns around her navel. “Yin and Yang, Nate. The sexual power of men peaks at a young age, but women only get more sexual as time passes. It’s a sad tragedy of modern life that almost every woman coming into her own, sexually, is shackled to an increasingly-decrepit husband who becomes only more mismatched with her as time goes on.” She suddenly stopped dandling her foot, and looked him in the eye. “But it doesn’t have to be that way, honey. Madeline is forging a new way, a better way.” Slowly, she rose of the couch. “A way to join the yin and the yang, complete the circle.“

“You can see it, can’t you? You and Jessie were mismatched from the start.” Marie approached her son. “That little girl? She’s only just begun her journey into sexual maturity. What a young man needs is a woman in her sexual prime to match his own.” Her hand lingered on his chest. “You know it’s true, don’t you?” Still forbidden from speaking, Nate nodded.

“Madeline will show us the way to a new future, honey.” Marie’s fingers drifted downward, fingering his abdominals. “A better future where women are treated like the Goddesses they are, Mother Goddesses in the full flower of womanhood.”

Deep down, Nate knew these new truths just as surely as he’d known anything in his life. He’d seen the evidence himself. He’d not seen a single woman under 40 since stepping foot on the island, and he knew that they were all perfect multifarious reflections of womanhood in its many shapes and sizes, from zaftig to statuesque to compact and thick. His own mother, his own Mother Goddess stood before him, her eyes practically aglow with the new knowledge that had been handed down from Madeline Kincaide, and she was the purest distillation of sexual power and prowess that he’d ever seen.

“It just makes so much sense. Ripe young men at their sexual peak, bursting with raw energy, needing their Mother Goddesses to harness that energy for their own ends, to serve the needs of sexually-ripe mature women to remake the world anew.” Marie’s other hand slid around Nate’s hip, her fingers caressing the globe of his ass. “Yin and Yang, Nate honey. A perfect circle, but one has to be on top. It’s only logical that we should lead, that we should take the reins of your sexual energy and create a new society where Jocastas rule.” She leaned in close, and he could feel the warmth of her breath on his lips. ”You may speak now.”

“Ohhh, mom, mommy, Mother,” Nate groaned as the words tumbled out of him.

“Kisses,” she said in a singsong voice, and closed the final gap between them. Her hand slid up to hold the back of his head as her tongue slid through his lips, strong and warm and slick. Marie held her son there for a long moment, until she broke the kiss, leaving him panting and dizzy.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred. “Nate, sweetheart...you remember when you made my feet happy?” He nodded. “Well, they want more kisses. Why don’t you kneel, and give them what they deserve?” It was almost as if all the strength dropped out of his knees as he fell to all fours in front of her, those soft, alabaster feet suddenly his whole world. Her perfect toes wiggled before him as he showered them with kisses. “That’s nice, sweetie, but don’t you love your Jocasta’s feet? You’re in love with them, aren’t you? Why, I bet you’re even hard again for your Mother Goddess’ feet.“

“Ohhh yessss,” he hissed, heart pounding. They were ur-feet, silky smooth and searingly sexy. Somewhere inside, he knew that if she asked, if it were possible, he’d marry her feet, he’d spend night and day kissing them.

“Well, surely you can kiss better than that.” She chuckled. “That’s not how you kiss a lover, is it?”

With a will, he bent his face to her feet once more, tongue gently laving each toe as he suckled them hungrily, unable stop himself from cleaning her feet. What he couldn’t kiss, his hand caressed, luxuriating in the sensation of her skin.

“You may stop now,” she said, and Nate sat back on his haunches, looking up at her worshipfully. His hard young tool had sprung to life once more, a rampant spur jutting forth within the confines of his pants. He wiped his mouth and smacked his lips, savouring the taste of her that lingered. Marie smiled down at him and ruffled his hair.

“Look at me.” He stared up at her, taking in the fullness of her perfection, eyes crawling up from her slender feet along her achingly long legs, plush thighs bursting with juicy femininity, the dramatic swell of her hips and the tempting mound hidden beneath the black spandex. His gaze crawled up over the flatness of her belly and the deep dimple of her navel, suddenly more kissable than Jesssie’s mouth had ever been, now exposed as she pulled her tunic off. He wanted to bury his face in the soft flesh there and lose himself in it. A quiet moan escaped his lips as he took in the perfection of her breasts, pendulous and heavy, the skin aglow with mature ripeness. Her nipples were pink and fat and swollen almost to the size of her littlest toe, and Nate’s mouth watered with the desire to kiss and suck. She smiled down upon him like the gentle deity she was, her luscious mouth still wet from their kiss, green eyes full of power and desire and framed by her ash-blonde locks which seemed almost to float of their own will about her head. “I am the perfect woman, yes?“

“Oh god, goddess mom yes.”

“Then isn’t it right that I should have a young man to match his yin with my yang?”

“Of course, of course it is!”

“And isn’t it right that I deserve all your attention, being perfect?“

“Yes yes yes!”

“Much more than that silly skinny child Jessie ever did.“

“Who? Oh, her.“

Marie beamed down at her son. ”More than any silly girl, even more than any other mature mother goddess.“

“That’s just plain truth.”

“Excepting the Queen Goddess Jocasta herself, in her earthly guise as Madeline Kincaide, who has brought us these truths and will lead us into the future?”

Nate’s mind reeled at the memory of Madeline, a golden goddess dripping with the ripeness of sexual motherly maturity, set only a single notch above his own Mother Goddesss. “Yessssss!” An electric thrill of pleasure shot through his body.

“That is her reward, Nate.” Marie ruffled his hair again. “Just a tiny sample of the gifts she has to bestow on us, merely for speaking the truth. And this is mine.” Hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her leggings, Marie slowly peeled them down before her son’s unbelieving eyes. Everything else in the world stopped as she pulled them away from her body, slowly revealing her pussy to him, a thing of luscious decadent wonder, her vulva a pair of thick, bare cushions framing the pink sweetness of her labia as they hung free, long and slick. He could see her clitoris nestled at the top, thick and pink standing at attention, demanding his worship. A single strand of wetness joined his mother’s divine pussy to her yoga pants and when it finally snapped, the world started again. “Are you hungry, honey?” He nodded, eagerly, transfixed. “Then kiss it and seal our pact. Give yourself to the Mother Goddess and join the circle.“

His head shot forward like a snake’s, mouth wide open, slurping as much of her sweetness inside of himself as he could get. Aching with a hunger like he’d never known, Nate buried himself in his mother’s cunt, gently sucking at her swollen labia as more nectar flowed forth from the aperture of her vagina. His tongue was frantic and electrified by the sensation of her perfectly velvety inner flesh, and it dug deep inside of her as she gripped his hair with both hands. pushing him deeper. Soon, Nate was lapping in a regular rhythm, diving in her sopping pussy only to trace a hot path up from it to her clit; with each flick of his tongue at the apex of her pussy, he was rewarded with a sharp gasp of pleasure from above. Her thick nest of pubic hair tickled his eyes and nose, but he gave it no mind as he ate and ate and ate, trying desperately to find his way into her deepest core from whence her juices flowed.

Time passed, but Nate had no sense of it. His world was her pussy. Her gasps gradually rose in volume, and his tongue more frantic until finally, Marie pushed him away and he fell on his back to the hardwood floor.

“Stop.” She said, standing astride his legs. ”Show your cock to your Mother Goddess so she can assess her prize.” Scrambling, Nate yanked down his pants, and his fat cock sprang forth, bigger than he’d ever seen it. Veiny and pulsating in time with his mother’s pussy, the angry red head of his impressive shaft nodded in Marie’s direction, pouring forth precum in slimy gouts. She toed it with one bare foot and Nate cried out.

“See?” Nate’s mother crowed. ”This cock is designed for only one thing: bringing pleasure to mature, divine pussy. Wasted on skinny, stupid young sluts.” Marie’s brow creased in anger as she stared down at her son’s fat tool. “It is mine. Now and forever.”

“Amen,” he muttered. Without another word, she dropped, impaling herself on Nate’s hard cock and driving a piercing cry of ecstasy from both of them.

“Don’t look at me ,” Marie demanded, her eyes ablaze. “For your past transgressions, for every time you wasted this tool of Jocasta’s on an undeserving pussy, you don’t deserve to watch me take what is mine by divine right.” She rocked her hips, and Nate gasped, clenching his eyes shut. Never in his brief life had anyone, any of the teenage girls he’d gleefully fucked behind highschool bleachers and in parked cars and on somebody’s parents couch, had ever taken his full length before. It had always been a test of endurance and lube to work his head and some of the shaft in. But here was his mother, sitting proudly atop a column of teenage cock that had swollen even beyond it’s usual thickness, having taken it in one fell swoop. His eyes sealed shut by her Voice, all he could feel was the velvety hot grip of her pussy, its divinely slick walls rippling around him as she worked herself on his cock.

Marie ground her hips in a circle, pushing her clit insistently against his pelvic bone, relishing the fullness of her son’s member, the completeness it brought. The head of his cock ground against the spongy barrier of her cervix, and drew a deep moan from both of them.

“Isn’t this perfect?” She asked, settling herself. ”You’ve never felt so good, have you honey?” Nate could only moan incoherently and make some insistent thrusting motions though she held him pinned to the floor. Marie lifted her hips and slammed them back down; a gush of pussy juices and precum splattered out over her son’s swollen sac as her buttocks came to rest against it. As his shaft slid through the heated slippery grasp of her pussy, Nate felt his balls contract, and the sap in them start rising.

His mother must have noticed, because a sharp fingernail tapped his chest. ”Do not cum until I give you permission. I’ll take my pleasure and then we’ll see about yours.“

The imminent need to spurt faded to background noise, but the swelling in his balls did not.

“This is what you were made for,” Marie began rocking her hips in short strokes, driving the last three inches or so of Nate’s cock in and out of her cunt. “Isn’t it?“

“Yes!” He shouted, trying to thrust upward when her hips rocked up, desperate to spend more time in her.

“You hate those skinny bitches for depriving you of this for so long, don’t you?” Marie pulled up to the tip of his cock and slammed back down again.

“Yes! God yes they can go to hell!” He thrust up as she slammed down and they both grunted. Mother and son started fucking in a savage rhythm that pounded Nate’s ass against the floor in increasingly wet slaps.

“What’s my name?” Marie shouted at him.

“Mom! Mommy!” Nate grabbed her hips for extra leverage.

“In public, maybe. What’s my name?”

“M-mother! Mother Goddess! Jocasta!” Nate wracked his brain.

“And you worship your Divine Jocasta.”

“Yes! YES! I worship my Jocasta!”

“You adore her every inch!”

“Goddess Mommy, YES.”

Marie slowed her thrusts down to a steady, vicious rock and squeeze and grind of her hips. Nate struggled to thrust but he was trapped in the decadent trap of her divine pussy.

“You are not my lover but my hopeful worshiper.” Marie leaned in close to his face, steadily pumping her hips; Nate thrust desperately upwards, whimpering on the edge of prolonged, delayed orgasm. “Lovers are equals. What equals does a Goddess have?“

“Yes! Yes!”

“Your lovers are my feet, which is where you belong.“

“I love your feet.”

“You are in love with my feet. Madly, passionately in love with your Jocasta’s feet.”

“Yes! I am in love with your feet!”

“You love them more than you ever loved Jessie.”

“So much more!” Nate pawed at his mother’s behind, trying to get some traction to fuck her, but the floor was too slick with fuck fluids.

“You would give up every memory of every day you spent with her just for a chance to cum for your new lovers.” Marie ground her clit into his pelvic bone insistently, panting and sweating above him.

“Ngghhh! Yessss! Anything! I’d do anything for them! For you! I swear!”

She leaned back, knees spread wide and slammed her hips down on his thick cock, driving it deep within in her while trapping him under her weight. With an animal growl that steadily rose in crescendo, Marie fast forward fucked her son.

Nate’s entire world was rapidly reduced to the ever-tightening fist enveloping his cock as Marie used him.

His mother put one hand on his chest to steady herself; her hips were a blur, those long ashen tresses whipping back and forth as she bounced eagerly on his cock, knowing he was missing the show of his life, by her command, their first steps into the new world, Jocasta’s world, and the playground she would make of it.

The fist around his cock clenched so tightly Nate thought for a moment his cock would snap, and Marie froze atop him, pussy gushing with cream as she felt her orgasm overtake her. She ground and rocked and rode him through the crashing waves of pleasure, knowing that his had been forestalled, by her command.

“Mine!” She screamed. “Mine! Mine! MINE!”

Eventually, Marie began to slow the motion of her hips, savouring freshly-fucked ache in her cunt. “Mine.” She said again, leaning close to Nate’s face.

With that, she dismounted, standing swiftly up and pulling up her leggings with a vicious snap. ”You may open your eyes now, honey.” Nate unclenched his eyes and watched her stride purposefully to the couch and seat herself square in the middle of it, arms stretched out over the back, legs crossed with a violent scissor.

Slowly, exhausted and dizzy from the ordeal, he began to sit up. Marie bobbed one foot in the air, and he licked his lips.

“Are you prepared to fulfill your promise?”

“What? What promise?”

“Come here.” Her foot bobbed invitingly, and Nate crawled over, helpless to resist. He sat back on his haunches at her feet. His mother gently touched his cheek with the toe of her bobbing foot.

“You love them, don’t you?” Marie asked, and he nodded, luxuriating in the feel of her big toe.

“You think they’re so sexy,” she uncrossed her legs, and planted the sole of her other foot on top of his unflagging erection. Nate groaned as she pressed down on it like a car pedal. “Your Jocasta’s mere feet are sexier than Jessie ever was or could hope to be.” His mom dragged her toes down the length of his cock.

“So much more,” Nate mumbled, and gasped when she slid her toe off the tip, letting it snap back up.

“Really, you think that they’re sexier than any woman but me and the Queen Goddess herself,” Marie insisted. He whimpered with with need as she dragged her toes down his shaft again. “That’s so flattering, honey. You’re going to make mommy’s feet so happy, aren’t you? Rubbing them, pampering them. Applying thick, creamy moisturizer to preserve their perfection. Painting their pretty nails for me. If you treat them right, maybe they’ll even let you fuck them.” She kept petting Nate’s erection with her foot, feeling each ridge and bump and vein as he trembled under her touch.

“Would you like that, Nate? Waking up in the morning, curled up next to your lovers, finding them eager to relieve your tension?” Nate felt his mother’s big toe making tiny circles around his weeping head.

“Yessssss.”

“My feet are your one true love,” she said. “The only relief you’ll ever have or need.”

“Ohhhh, yesss.” Nate cradled the foot caressing his face in both hands and began planting tiny kisses across the sole. Marie wedged the thick tip of his shaft between her big toe and the next and began to rub insistently.

“That can all be yours, Nate. You can belong to them, be happy with Mommy’s feet, with your Jocasta’s Goddess feet, forever. You just have to fulfill your promise and seal the pact. It’ll be just like you’re getting engaged!” She giggled excitedly. “Maybe you can buy them a little engagement ring to show your love.”

“I’ll do it! I will, I will!” Nate cried between kisses.

“I know you will, sweetheart. You don’t have a choice, really. Now stay still.” Marie leaned back, and sandwiched her son’s cock between her feet, slowly stroking them as his arms fell to his sides, limp. “Soon, your Goddess will let you cum, Nate. She’ll let you show your love for her perfect feet, and when you do, your every memory of your time with Jessie, with every other girl will be lost. You’ll rewrite your life for them, for me, for your Jocasta, to make room for so many new better memories for your future together with her Goddess feet.” Marie held the head of his cock steady on the bridge of one foot while the sole of the other seesawed back and forth over the ridge of his glans. “Are you ready? Are you ready to remake yourself?“

“Yes, Goddess! Yes, Jocasta!” Every muscle in Nate’s body strained to try and fuck between his mother’s velvety-soft feet, but they were bound by her Voice.

“Good boy.” Marie purred. “Now, CUM.“

Lightning rocketed through Nate’s body as he obeyed, screaming as he jolted and spurted all over his mother’s feet. With each blissful wave rolling through his body, doors fell shut in his brain, memories fell out and splattered against her perfect toes. Every girl, every scrawny bitch and unripe teenage body vanished from memory. There had been something, someone there before, but now all he could feel was love and lust for his Goddess, elation for his future at her feet, serving and loving the sexy peds of his Jocasta. Looking down, he saw his old life, his memories strung between her toes in thick, creamy ropes that slowly subsided to a dribble as they erupted from his cock.

Marie looked down on her son and smiled. ”Kiss them clean of your old life.”

Nate happily bent to his task.

Elsewhere on the island, in a darkened room, Ronnie sat with her legs up on a console, watching a bank of monitors. On the main screen, she watched the show Nate had missed with his eyes closed, Marie screaming “Mine. Mine!” while riding on his youthful erection. She dandled her hand between her legs.

“Mom, now can I take them off?” Barry asked, the lower half of his face an utter mess of saliva and pussy cream.

“No.” Ronnie gave her son a stern look. “Nobody asked you to ruin that poor woman’s belongings. You deviated from the plan and this is your punishment. You can’t look at Mommy’s divine pussy for a whole week. Now, get back to work.” Barry returned to mouthing her through her leggings, while she rewound the recording again to catch Marie’s orgasm.

A long-fingered hand came to rest on her shoulder.

“And how are our new friends the Whitbys doing?” Ronnie looked up to see Madeline peering closely over her shoulder.

“Good!” The blocky brunette enthused. “Mmmm, great.” As Barry hit her clitoris through the spandex. “I think she’s just about done. A little fast, though. Honestly, I thought he had more fight in him. I like it when they’ve got some spunk.” Her eyes glinted impishly.

“They’ve all got that, darling.” Madeline squeezed her shoulder. “In spades, some of them. Good work. Barry, honey, you look as if you’re doing some good work yourself down there. Once you’ve finished worshiping your Jocasta, you may meet me in my office.“

“Hey, wait—” Ronnie protested weakly.

“Remember who rules here,” the elder blonde intoned. Ronnie’s mouth clapped shut. “Now, let’s see how our other darlings are doing.“

She began to flip through the other video feeds, coming upon footage recorded at the island dock the night previously.

“Veronica.” Madeline said over Ronnie’s wet moans. “Is that a runaway?”