The Silken: Family Counseling
Chapter 4
By Templeton Rose
Diane Martinez crouched over her husband, kissed him with all the hunger she’d shown him back when they’d first met in college.
“What’s gotten into you this week?” Alex whispered, feeling her tits. Her nipples peaked through her thin, silk negligee.
“Your dick, mostly.” Then she added to herself, And our son’s cock, too. The thought made her pussy all the more wet.
His hands moved from her chest down her back to the globes of her ass.
“Wearing your nylons to bed again?”
Diane felt how hard he already was in his boxers. “I can tell you like it.”
“Yes.” He kept running his hands along her smooth legs, from her ass to her thighs and back again. He had a desk job, but there were still calluses on his large hands from barbell training and yard work. They made a hiss as they moved over her black pantyhose. “It’s just…a very different look for you.”
“A sexy look.”
“Yes.” He hesitated before speaking again. She knew what he wanted to ask: where was all this coming from? The whole pantyhose thing—not just in bed either, she was always showing leg now—the need to fuck every night, and most mornings. What had changed the past week?
She couldn’t tell her husband, of course. Couldn’t tell Alex how, on the advice of her friend, Jody, she’d gone to a family counselor to work on her relationship with her eighteen-year-old son. Couldn’t tell him how the counselor, Dr. Beine, had drugged Diane and her son. Couldn’t tell him how when they’d woken up, she and Tom had been restrained and dressed in pantyhose, both on their legs and pulled tight over their faces. Couldn’t tell her husband how Dr. Beine and his assistant (and daughter) Maryssa had been similarly dressed in nothing but hose, and proceeded to explain how the pantyhose Tom and Diane were wearing were different—special—with the ability to alter the mind if someone orgasmed while wearing them.
Who would believe something so insane? Who would believe that a respected local doctor and his daughter confessed to regularly having sex before proceeding to masturbate Diane and Tom, forcing them to cum in their hose?
She couldn’t possibly tell that, crazy as it all was, it was true. When they’d cum in their hose, Diane and Tom had indeed been changed. The mother-son anger that had driven them to seek therapy in the first place disappeared as Tom’s dick had shot its load into his black nylons, and Diane’s clit had detonated pleasure in the pantyhose she was wearing.
Replacing all the stupid, inconsequential arguments they had? Lust. An uncontrollable desire burned between mother and son now.
They’d fought it. They’d really tried. And had resisted for all of, perhaps, 20 minutes after Dr. Beine and Maryssa had sent them on their way. Then they had fucked in the backseat of Diane’s SUV.
After their conversion by Dr. Beine, their pantyhose weren’t something just to be worn, an article of clothing simply covering their bodies. Instead, it was more like they weren’t their real selves now unless they had hose both on their legs, and covering their faces as masks.
They’d still been wearing their pantyhose as they’d had sex that first time in Diane’s SUV. The sheets of rain washing down on the Volvo’s roof seemed a mere thimbleful compared to the torrent of cum it felt like her son had pumped into her yearning pussy.
Mother and son had been fucking every day since, a whole week now. But Diane’s husband was proving to be a beneficiary of her new horniness, too.
She pulled his cock from his boxers. It throbbed in her hand. She had previously cut out her nylon’s gusset, giving free access to her pussy. In fact, she’d done that with most of her pairs of hose. Now she rubbed her wet slit against his cock. “I like wearing them. They make me feel sexy. They make me want to do sexy things with my…man.”
She’s almost said “men”, but Alex hadn’t noticed. “Then I want you to keep wearing them,” he said, bucking his hips, instinctively trying to get his dick into her.
“Oh, I will,” Diane said being taking his cock in her soft hand. It was slick and hot from her essence, glistened in her bedside lamp’s weak light. Then she impaled herself on him.
Wet as she was, she still gasped as he penetrated. She bit her lip, looked down at her husband, felt a wave of satisfaction as he gazed at her with eyes full of need. He had a big dick, and its warmth was wonderful now. Diane started rocking her hips. “Do you like your wife being a pantyhose slut?”
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned.
“Like fucking her tight pussy through her hose?”
“Yes.”
She was suddenly very warm, and lifted off her negligee, tossing it on the floor. A light sheen of perspiration covered her tits. She was the one on top, after all, so doing most of the work. He grabbed her bare tits and she rocked her hips faster.
“I like it too,” she said, glancing at herself in a dresser mirror. At 40, her body was still trim, her breasts full but still retaining their lift. Her pantyhose were black, and sheer-to-waist. Her skin had a golden-brown tinge to it, contrasting nicely against her shiny, dark nylons. Diane’s long, black hair was starting to get tousled as it spilled down her naked back. “You know what else I would like?” she asked, turning back to him.
“Tell me.” He sounded like in that moment, he was still willing to give her anything.
“If you’d wear a pair too while we fuck.”
“What?
“I want you to wear pantyhose while we fuck, baby, just like your woman is.”
“But isn’t that…kind of gay?” She felt his cock throb even larger inside her pussy.
“This big dick I’m riding doesn’t feel gay to me.” Her voice was husky. “This big cock belongs to a real man who does whatever he wants.”
“It does.”
“This big cock wants to me make its woman happy, and doesn’t give a fuck if its gay or not to wear pantyhose, it just does what it wants, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes!”
“And it wants to fuck its woman while being a pantyhose faggot?”
“Oh god!” One of his hands still gripped her hip while the other now reached for a tit.
“Fuck, I love it when you grab my tits! I’d love to have a pantyhose faggot grab me!” Christ, she was riding him so hard now. The king-size bed squeaked like a frenetic morse code. “Tell me you’ll give me that, baby, that you’ll be a pantyhose faggot and milk my baby feeders while we fuck!”
“I will, I fucking will!”
“Say you’ll be my pantyhose faggot—say it, please!”
“I will, I’ll wear pantyhose with you, I’ll be your pantyhose faggot, I’ll be your pantyhose faggot and—ohhhh fuuuuuuckkk!”
Diane felt his cum geyser into her. “Oh, I can feel my pantyhose faggot cumming, making my pantyhose faggot cum makes me cum!” She leaned down and kissed him while continue to buck against her husband’s dick. The orgasm was pleasant if not quite as volcanic as what her son typically gave her.
Finally, after her pussy had milked all the seed it could from him, she slid off his rod.
Alex’s eyes were leaden and sleepy, as they always were after climax. After almost two decade of marriage, she knew nothing put him to sleep faster than emptying his balls.
As always, he tried to be an attentive lover, stay awake a bit longer and hold her.
She whisked sweat from his brow. “It’s okay, baby, you gave me what I wanted. Time to do to sleep.”
“I liked what we were saying a lot,” he whispered, relaxing into his pillow.
“I did too.”
“I love you,” he said, almost instantly drifting off.
She kissed him, and turned off the bedside lamp. “And I love you.” Diane waited in the darkness a couple minutes listening to her husband’s shallow breathing. Then she took her phone from the nightstand.
“Yr father’s asleep meet me downstairs in 5,” she texted.
The reply text came back immediately. “How did u get ever him to sleep??” The emoticon ending the message was quizzical, rubbing its chin in contemplation.
“Recorded w/ my phone you can listen if you like”
“Cant wait >:—)”
She pulled on a short, silk robe, then slipped from the bedroom. Diane was still in her hose, aware of the seed seeping from her. In the pocket of her robe was a small, soft bulge: another pair of stockings.
They were black, the same color as those on her legs. She pulled them over her head. The nylon was taut over her beautiful face, heightening the curves of her cheeks and lips, obscuring her eyes. Her dark hair spilled from underneath the hood. She sighed, feeling relaxed in her slave mask. Finally free to be her real self.
The inside of her thighs felt slick as she padded in her stockinged feet down the stairs. The house was silent, dark. Her heart was racing, like a high schooler sneaking out to meet her boyfriend.
On the first floor, the study’s door was ajar. She entered, clicking the lock behind her. “Tom?”
“I’m here, Mom.”
She activated her phone’s screen, partially illuminating the room in a harsh, blue light.
Her son was leaning against a walnut desk, naked except for the pantyhose he wore. She licked her lips seeing his erection straining in his dark nylons like a beast struggling to be unchained.
She crossed the room and kissed him. Like her, he had nylons pulled over his head. The mask of a proper Silken slave.
“All day I think about us being together like this,” Tom said between kisses.
Diane understood. She felt the same thing all the time now too. It was so hard pretending to not be what she was. Not being able to touch her son, make love with him, whenever they wanted. Not being able to walk openly around her home in her hose like the slave she was. “Then make up for lost time.”
He tugged on the fabric cinch holding closed Diane’s silk robe. It opened, and he ran his hands over her tits. He dipped his head to kiss them through his mask, the sensation of his nylon-covered brushing wetly against her nipples making them diamond hard.
Diane felt her son’s cock through his nylons. “Need this inside me so bad.”
“Is dad’s cum in you?”
“Yes. Jealous?” she asked, slipping free of her robe completely.
“No,” he said. “I understand you’re his wife. Whatever has happened to us, however Dr. Beine changed us, you’re still my parents. I still want your marriage to work. I want us you both to be happy.”
Diane’s heart swelled. “Our marriage is working. Here, listen.” Diane played her phone’s recording of her recent love play with Alex. Tom listened to his father’s groaning, pleasured voice from moments earlier admitting that he’d wear pantyhose, be a pantyhose faggot.
“So hot,” Tom moaned, turning his mother around so that she faced the desk.
Diane killed the recording. “You want to see him in hose?”
Tom positioned himself behind her, his cock angled at the opening in Diane’s hose. He pulled down the front of his own pantyhose, unsheathing his cock. “I want him to be happy as I am.”
“So you want him to be a Silken slave too?”
“Yes,” Tom admitted, pressing into his mother’s pussy, so slippery with his father’s seed.
She breathed sharply at being penetrated by her boy. “Just imagine all of us together, in our hose openly. No more secrets.”
Tom moved in and out of her from behind, grabbing her nylon hips. “I want that. I want to come home and see you and him already in your hose, nice and masked.”
“Do you want to make love to mommy in front of your father?”
“Yes, I want him to see us fucking.”
“And you’d also watch him fucking me in our hose?”
“Yes,” Tom said, “it’s okay fair he still gets to have you too.”
“He’d feel your seed in my pussy as he fucked me, just you’re feeling his right now,” Diane moaned.
“And he’d be okay with that, he’d understand it’s right and normal for son and mother to fuck in their hose.”
“No jealousy, just love.” Diane imagined them all together, how deep and open their family relationship would be. It made her all the hotter.
He pressed her down onto the desk as he continued fucking her from behind. “I want that so bad, Mommy.”
“We’ll have to get him to visit Dr. Beine. We’ll watch as your father gets turned into a pantyhose slave, just like we were.”
Tom felt no guilt thinking about betraying his father, turning him into another Silken. Indeed, it made him all the harder. “I want to see that. I want him to be raped, just like were were. I want to see Dr. Beine cum on his face, just like he did on ours.”
“I want that too, honey. He needs to be changed so he understands our love, so he can share in it.”
His mother’s words, the feel of her nylons as he gripped her hips, his own hot breath as he panted through his pantyhose mask, Diane’s ass encased in hose—it was too much for him, thinking as he had all day about her. Tom felt his balls begin to boil with seed.
“Mommy, I’m going to cum in you, I’m going to cum so fucking hard!”
Music to her ears. This was her purpose as a mother, giving her son pleasure, making him cleave more dearly to her. This was her purpose as a Silken, too, making her fellow slave feel good, making him cleave more dearly to the collective. “Do it, baby, mommy’s pussy is so hungry for her baby’s yummy seed!”
He was just a piston now, ramming himself into her so fast. “Oh god, Mom, oh god—cumming!
And then she felt, jets of her son’s cum filling her just as his father had so recently. It completed her, and being a Silken slave she automatically climaxed fulfilling her duty. “Fuck, Tommy, I’m cumming too!” she hissed, her pussy milking his young cock of its seed.
He emptied completely into her, and once again this evening she felt a man’s cum dripping down the inside her nylon-clad thighs.
“Fuck, baby, I love you so much,” she whispered, turning to look at him from where he still lanced her from behind.
He was breathing hard through his mask, his heart racing. “I love you too, Mom, with everything I have.”
After he had stripped off his hose to go to his room, he whispered to Diane, “I wish I could spend the night with you, Mom. None of this sneaking around. Just, you know, spend the night with you in bed.”
Diane had peeled off her slave mask and cum-stained hose, feeling unnatural wearing something as ordinary as a robe. She kissed him. “I wish that too, baby. But we have to keep up appearances, at least for a little bit longer.”
How much longer? she wondered as waited for Tom to sneak back upstairs to his room. It was agonizing, living this lie. She needed to know when Alex could be made part Diane and Tom’s special love.
It was almost midnight, but she decided to chance a text to Dr. Beine’s daughter, Maryssa: “Hi! It’s Diane M. Sorry to bother but is the Doc back in town? Would really like to set up counseling session with hubby!”
Maryssa responded quickly: “Hi Diane! Sorry but my dad isn’t back from Europe until week after next. I’ll make sure he fits you and your family in then!” They both had to keep it light, of course, and not mention pantyhose, enslavement, or the Silken. Couldn’t have the NSA realizing there was a group of mind-controlling nylon fetishists operating on American soil.
But the answer wasn’t enough. Two more weeks of living this lie at home would feel like a lifetime. She needed some way of relieving this pressure. Or at least sharing what she was going through with someone that could understand.
Then Diane had an idea. Her friend, Jody, had been the one who recommended Dr. Beine’s counseling services for her and Tom.
Was Jody one of the Silken too? She had to be. So maybe Stephanie would have some advice about how to live a Silken life at home? Or at least understand what Diane was going through, slave-to-slave.
Desperate, Diane decided that in the morning she’d be calling Jody, the friend that had betrayed her, the one that had set her and her son on the path of being Silken.