The video had been called “How To Be A Good MILF”, and she had thought it would be full of tips on parenting her 18-year-old son, giving him proper nutrition, helping him with schoolwork, and so forth. But it had just been a jumble of strange noises and flashing images. She had watched it all the way through three times, just to be sure she hadn’t done it wrong.
Now she couldn’t help behaving oddly. A week ago she had thrown out half her clothes – all her most concealing and modest ones – without understanding why she was doing it, and then she had felt compelled to go shopping for much sluttier replacements. She had wanted to use the change rooms but instead she had found herself trying them on the shop floor proper, stripping naked in full view of other customers and then modelling her whorish new outfits as she blushed and tried to convince her traitorous body to cover itself.
At home she paraded around in her new slutwear, blushing and trying to pretend it was normal as the sheer fabric of her new outfits displayed her bulging tits to her son and all his teenaged friends. She found herself standing closer than she wanted to to her son’s friends, her barely-concealed fuckmelons right in their faces, and talking to them about personal topics ranging from their sexual fantasies to the wetness of her cunt. On at least two occasions she found herself stroking their hard cocks through their pants.
At night she would cry in frustration at her inappropriate slutty behaviour. She would slap her tits and her pussy painfully, as if they were the cause of her actions, trying to punish them, but she would always just end up frantically fingering her pussy while thinking of how humiliated she had been, while whispering to herself, “Good MILF. Good MILF. Good MILF…”
Within a week she started holding photo sessions where she would photograph herself nude or semi-nude in a variety of sexual positions, her nipples erect and her cunt wet, and then cry as she found herself compelled to upload them to internet porn sites with her name attached (yet still masturbating as she cried). After the first two she was filled with an overwhelming need for her son to be the photographer, and she blushed awkwardly as she instructed him to take photo after photo of her spreading her legs, fingering her cunt, cupping her tits and pouting.
The first time one of her son’s friends raped her it was almost a relief to have the sexual tension broken. She gasped as he pushed her down on the floor one night at one of her son’s parties, lifted her skirt, and pushed his cock into her bare, wet twat. When he came inside her she orgasmed, even though she knew she wasn’t on birth control, and she thanked him with a deep kiss on the lips.
After that, it got around that she was available, and more and more boys would visit allegedly to spend time with her son but in reality to forcefully fuck her in her bedroom, or backyard, or wherever they wanted. Sometimes they would offer her son a chance to join in, and though he resisted for a while, eventually he, too, started to fuck her, and she knew it was her fault, for being such a slut that her son couldn’t resist.
For mother’s day the next year, her son bought her a collar and leash to wear, because it seemed appropriate for her. Around her collar were the words, “Good MILF”, and it was the best present she had ever received…
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