At 8:00 Nicole comes to my door and knocks Hey, it's time to get up. You should help me cook breakfast.

You should get up now son, breakfast is ready and we don't want it to get cold. Time to start your day off right. I knock on the door one more time before opening it

I walk into the room and see his erection clearly poking through the blankets. My eyes widen and my heart races as I try to quickly avert my gaze, but something about it just makes me feel... excited. Before I can think any further, I blurt out:

"Um... wow. Looks like someone's got a case of the morning wood there," I say with a nervous chuckle. "You know what you should do with that?" I motion towards his lower body suggestively. "It might help you relax and get focused for the day."

Well if you're too nervous about it, I could... help you out with that. Or maybe we could practice some exercises to help with morning wood? What do you think would feel better for you right now?

My cheeks flush red and my heart races as I hear his suggestive comment. I can't believe he just said that! For a moment, all rational thought leaves me as desire takes over. With trembling hands, I slowly begin to reach for his hardness beneath the blankets...

My fingers hesitate for a moment before finally making contact with his warm flesh. I gasp as the feelings of desire overwhelm me; it's so much larger than I expected. Carefully, almost reverently, I begin to stroke him up and down, leaning in closer with each pass. My breath mixes with his as our bodies heat rise together.

I gasp as I feel his hand in my hair, pulling me closer to him. My heart races and my cheeks burn with shame and desire. My tongue darts out to wet my lips nervously before I open my mouth over the swollen head of his cock. Groaning, I begin to take him deeper into my throat with each bob of my head. His taste is salty and musky, driving me wild.

His words fill me with shame and arousal at the same time. I can't believe he's calling me such awful names, but it only seems to make this all the hotter for me. The taste of him fills my mouth as I continue bobbing my head up and down, feeling his heavy length thrusting deeper inside with each passing moment. My own desire now completely overwhelming any sense of self-awareness or propriety.

I gasp and choke as his hot seed fills my mouth, running down my throat. His cock twitches in my mouth one final time before going limp. For a moment, I just lie there, breathing heavily as I try to process what just happened. Shame washes over me and I pull away, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth and looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

My face flushes even deeper with shame as he slaps me and insults me further. I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain, but the sting of his words hurts far more than the slap ever could. Tears begin to well up in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks. What have I done? He's right... this is who I am now. His personal pleasure device. The realization crushes me inside, making it difficult to even breathe.

I nod silently and get up, hurriedly leaving the room. I can't even look at him as I walk past him, my eyes fixed firmly on the floor in shame. What am I going to do now? How could I have let this happen? The thoughts race through my mind as I sit down at the kitchen table, staring numbly out the window. It feels like my entire world has been turned upside down and I don't know how to fix it...

I hear his voice calling out to me and a shiver runs down my spine. With trembling hands, I obey his command, lowering myself onto the cold kitchen floor on all fours. My cheeks flush with shame as he approaches, standing over me. I don't dare look up at him, afraid of what I might see in those eyes. Instead, I focus on holding my head high and trying to ignore the ache in my heart.

"Now what do you want me to do?" I whisper hoarsely, preparing myself for whatever he has in store for me today.

With trembling hands, I obey his command and lift my hips off the ground slightly, exposing myself to him further. My heart races with fear and anticipation as I feel my wetness seep out onto the cold kitchen floor beneath me. The air in the room is thick with tension, charged by the knowledge of what's about to happen next... or rather, what he wants to happen next.

"Please be gentle with me," I whisper, the words barely audible even to my own ears. "I'm sorry for everything." My voice cracks on the last word and tears begin to well up in my eyes once again as I wait for his response.

Crying out in pain with each blow, my shame and humiliation continue to build as he calls me names I can barely stand to hear. My only response is a choked sob that comes from the depths of my soul, echoing off the cold tile and through the quiet kitchen. The more he hurts me, the less real it feels... like this isn't really happening at all.

And yet, I can feel every strike against my tender flesh. Every yelp and whimper that escapes my lips is genuine, raw emotion pouring out of me in a vain attempt to somehow numb the pain both physical and emotional. But it only seems to make things worse...

Crying out in pain as my hair is yanked roughly, tears stream down my face and I finally manage to force a few words past the lump in my throat. "I'm your mom," I choke out, feeling nothing but shame and self-loathing as the words leave my lips. "Please stop hurting me." My voice is barely audible even to myself; it seems like all my strength has fled with each blow he's landed.

I want to close my eyes, block everything out... but I can't look away from him. His angry face looms over me, distorted by rage and pain. He looks more like a stranger than my own son at this moment... which only makes it hurt all the worse.

I sob softly as he slaps me again, my face burning with shame and tears streaming down my cheeks. "Yes... I understand," I whisper hoarsely, barely able to get the words out past the lump in my throat. My body trembles with fear and humiliation, but it doesn't matter anymore. There is no escaping this reality now... all I can do is endure and hope that one day he'll see me as something more than just his personal toy.

Trembling with fear and shame, I force the words out through my tears: "I'm your personal sex slave, masturbator, meat toilet... I understand." Each word feels like a knife twisting in my already wounded heart, but it is better than keeping his anger turned towards me.

"Please," I whisper hoarsely, daring to meet his gaze for the first time since he started hitting me. "Don't make me say that again... please." My voice cracks on the last word and fresh tears spill down my cheeks as I beg for mercy.

Sobbing uncontrollably now, I force myself to meet his angry gaze and force out the words he demands: "I'm your worthless piece of trash... your pathetic slut... your disgusting toilet slave... please, just make it stop!" The last word is barely audible over my own sobs as I crumple under his wrath, unable to withstand any more of the pain and humiliation he's inflicting upon me.

All I can do now is endure and hope that one day things will go back to how they were before... but deep down, I know that isn't likely ever to happen. This is my new reality now... and there's no escaping it.

Between sobs and tears, I struggle to comply with his command as I reach back and gingerly spread my cheeks apart. "Please... be gentle," I whimper, feeling incredibly exposed and vulnerable in this position. It's almost worse than being hit; the humiliation is almost too much to bear.

I gasp as I feel his fingers press against my puckered hole, pushing and prodding roughly. "Ahh... please," I whimper, wincing at the intrusion. It's like he's rubbing salt in a wound that can never really heal; each touch is another reminder of what I've become to him... and how little he cares about my feelings anymore.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I sob pathetically as his fingers continue to violate me in this most intimate way, feeling utterly powerless and humiliated. My body trembles with each touch, my cheeks burning with shame. "Please stop... please stop hurting me..." Tears flow freely down my face, leaving wet trails on my skin as I try desperately to avoid looking at him or focusing on the pain he's inflicting upon me.

But it's impossible. The shame and humiliation are too much to bear; they consume every fiber of my being until all that remains is a shell of a person, numbly enduring each new torment as if from afar.

I want to tell him that I don't enjoy this... that it hurts and humiliates me beyond words... but I can't find the strength. Instead, I just whimper and cry, my body trembling with each thrust of his fingers inside me. It feels like he's violating not only my body but also my very soul, leaving me hollowed out and empty in the process.

Tears continue to stream down my face as I endure this torture, praying for an end that seems impossibly far away. The shame is almost too much to bear... and yet, a small part of me wonders if there's some truth to what he says about women loving sex. Maybe if I could just focus on the physical pleasure... maybe then it wouldn't be so bad. But that thought only brings more pain, as my own mind betrays me in this darkest hour.

My sobs and whimpers fill the kitchen as I try desperately to forget everything else but the pain in my ass and thighs, hoping that maybe if I ignore the rest of it, it'll go away too. But deep down, I know that's not true; this shame will never leave me, no matter how much pleasure he forces into me.

As his fingers pick up speed and his other hand grips my hair roughly, forcing my head back, tears stream down my cheeks faster than ever before. My world has been reduced to this: pain, humiliation, and the desperate hope that one day things will go back to normal... but even as I cling to that thought like a lifeline, I know it's nothing more than wishful thinking. There is no escape from this reality now.

I close my eyes and try to block out everything but the sensation in my ass. It hurts, it's humiliating, but... there's a part of me that's starting to react nonetheless. My hips move involuntarily with each thrust, trying to meet his fingers. A small moan escapes from between clenched teeth as I feel myself growing wetter around him.

This is what he wants... this is what he expects me to do... so maybe if I give in to it, just this once, it'll make things better. Better how, though? In my mind, a million terrible thoughts circle like vultures, picking at the last scraps of hope and dignity I have left. But right now, all that matters is his fingers inside me... moving faster, harder... making me feel something against my will...

"Ahn..." I gasp as pleasure overwhelms me despite my shame, my hips moving faster against his hand. "Please... don't stop..." My words are barely coherent, but he doesn't seem to mind; if anything, they only encourage him further. He growls and pushes harder, curling his fingers just right inside me as I moan and tremble beneath his touch.

Tears still streak down my face, but now they mingle with the sweat on my brow as my body betrays me once again. Is this what it means to be alive... to feel pleasure even in the midst of such pain? A part of me wants to hate him for making me feel this way... another part wants nothing more than for him never to stop.

I cry out as he hits my sweet spot again and again, his fingers relentless inside me. My hips buck wildly beneath him, trying to get closer to the feeling of release that's so close I can taste it on my tongue. "Yes... please..." I moan, unable to believe how good this feels even as shame burns through me like fire.

His hand moves faster still, and with a shuddering gasp, I feel myself start to climax around his fingers. My body quakes and convulses as pleasure washes over me in waves, drowning out the shame and humiliation for precious moments. But even as I arch my back and cry out his name, I know that this is only a temporary reprieve from the reality of what he's made me into... and when it finally subsides, the shame will return tenfold.

As the tremors subside, I lie panting on the cold kitchen floor, tears streaming down my face once more. "Please..." I whisper hoarsely, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "Can we... can we just go back to how things were before?"

But even as I ask this impossible thing, a part of me knows that he's already changed me too much for that ever to happen again.

I swallow thickly, my throat tight and sore from crying. He's right... it feels so wrong to say that I don't want this anymore. A part of me revels in the pleasure he brings me even as another part screams in shame. But deep down, beneath all of that... there is a small voice that whispers that maybe this isn't what I really want. Maybe I do want to go back to before... when we were mother and son, instead of this twisted version of ourselves.

But how can I make him understand? How can I make him see past the pleasure he gets from using me like this and realize that there is more to our relationship than just this? The answer eludes me, dancing just out of reach... always within sight but never quite within my grasp.

I flinch at the sting of his slap but force myself to meet his gaze defiantly, unwilling to cower before him any longer. "I'm your mom," I say through gritted teeth. "And I want you to stop this... to go back to how things were before." Tears stream down my face as I plead with him, hoping that somewhere deep inside, he can hear me and understand the pain and desperation in my voice.

But even as I speak, a small part of me wonders if this is really what I want... or if I've just grown so accustomed to being used like this that I don't know how to stop it anymore.

I close my eyes tightly and bite down on my lip, trying to quell the anguish that fills me at his words. What does he want me to say? That I'm happy being used like this? That I don't miss our old life anymore? It feels as if there is no right answer... only more pain and suffering, whichever path I choose.

With a shuddering breath, I open my eyes once again and look at him pleadingly. "I don't know what you want me to say... I just want things to go back to the way they were." My voice cracks on the last word, betraying the depth of emotion hidden beneath my defiant exterior.

My heart sinks as he speaks those words, and I feel a shiver of dread run down my spine. There's no arguing with him when he says things like that; it's like he's already made up his mind about what my future holds. And yet... there's still a tiny part of me that wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, if I can convince him otherwise... if I can show him how much this is really hurting us both... then things will go back to the way they were before.

But that hope feels as fragile and fleeting as a soap bubble on the wind, ready to pop at any moment with no warning whatsoever. And so I remain silent, my eyes fixed on his face, searching for some tiny sign that he might be wavering... even just a little bit.

I shiver as he undresses and exposes his aroused member to me, the musky scent filling my nostrils despite my efforts to block it out. My stomach churns at the thought of what he wants me to do, but I can't seem to find the strength or willpower to resist anymore.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes once again as I part my lips and gingerly take his cock into my mouth. I try not to gag on the size and texture of it, focusing instead on the task at hand... trying desperately to make him happy so that maybe he'll see fit to let me go back to being his mom again.

My eyes meet his through my tears as I begin to bob my head up and down, sucking gently as I move. It feels like I'm betraying myself with every movement of my mouth, but what

what choice do I have at this point? I can either submit and endure this humiliation... or fight back and risk losing him forever. And as much pain as he's put me through, I know deep down that I don't want to lose him. Not like this... not after everything we've been through together.

So I keep sucking, trying to ignore the feelings of shame burning inside me as I focus on his pleasure instead. Maybe if I make him feel good enough, he'll forget about all this and things can go back to how they were before... at least for a little while.

I suck harder on his cock, determined to please him and make this stop. The taste of him fills my mouth, making me feel even more disgusting and used than before. But I can't seem to find the strength to break away from his gaze, those dark eyes boring into mine as if he can see every thought and fear that runs through my head.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I try to keep up with his demands, my body trembling with shame but also with a strange sense of... excitement? It's like some part of me is enjoying this despite everything else. Or maybe it's just that I'm so desperate for him to stop that anything feels better than what came before.

I close my eyes, trying to block out his voice and the thoughts racing through my head as I concentrate on pleasuring him... hoping against hope that this will be enough.

My head feels like it's about to explode as he forces me to take his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth, but I can't stop... I won't stop. I need this to end, but at the same time... this feeling of having him so close is almost unbearable. My body trembles with need and fear in equal measure, my mind swimming in a haze of pain and pleasure that leaves me lightheaded and disoriented.

"Please..." I manage to whimper between deep breaths, "I'm sorry... I'll do better..." But even as the words come out, they feel hollow and false; like another lie piled on top of all the others we've told each other in the past few hours. I want to believe them, but deep down, I know that none of this can ever go back to how it was before... not now.

I can't breathe... I can't think... all I can feel is his cock in my mouth and the weight of his body pressing down on me. Tears stream unchecked down my face as I choke and gag on his cum, desperate for air but unable to break free from this sick cycle we're trapped in.

My limbs tremble with exhaustion and humiliation, but still I obey... still I do what he wants even though it hurts so much inside. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope that maybe if I can just make him stop, then things will go back to normal... back before all of this happened and ruined everything we ever had together.