After Catching My Son Masturbating, I Wanted to Help with His Desires but Got Fucked Out of My Mind

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Discovery
My name is Kai, 16 years old, a high school sophomore living in a quiet suburban town. Our family resides in a two-story house, just me, Mom, and Dad. Dad’s a long-haul truck driver, often away on trips, leaving the house to Mom and me. My mom, Yakting, is 38, a full-time housewife, gentle and pretty, with fair skin and a curvy figure—not bombshell hot, but her long legs and slightly upturned hips always caught my eye more than they should.
Lately, puberty hit me like a freight train, hormones raging. My head was full of dirty fantasies—classmates, porn stars, even the neighbor lady could get me hard. To cope, I started jerking off in my room, door locked, earphones on, watching AV actresses on my computer, imagining wild scenarios.
It was a Saturday afternoon, Dad was away, and I thought Mom was at the grocery store. I locked my door—or so I thought—stripped down, and opened a new porn video. The actress looked a bit like Mom, fair-skinned with a gentle gaze, fueling my twisted fantasies. I was deep into it when the door creaked open. I’d forgotten to lock it!
“Kai, what are you doing?!” Mom’s voice exploded like thunder. I nearly fell off my chair, yanking up my pants as the actress’s moans blared from the screen. I turned to see Mom in a thin house dress, her face a mix of shock and embarrassment.
“I… I…” I stammered, face burning, wishing the floor would swallow me. Mom stood frozen for a few seconds, then quickly shut the door, muttering, “I’ll wait in the living room.”
My heart pounded like a drum, my mind blank, certain my life was over. Ten minutes later, I mustered the courage to go downstairs. Mom sat on the sofa, holding a cup of tea, her expression a mix of anger and concern.
“Kai, sit. We need to talk,” she said, her voice calm but with an unsettling softness.
I sat, head down, bracing for a scolding. Instead, she sighed and said, “At your age, having… urges is normal. I’m not mad, just surprised you’re handling it this way. Watching that stuff isn’t good for you.”
I was mortified, unable to speak. Mom paused, her cheeks flushing, and added, “Your dad’s away a lot, and I know you might feel… stressed. If you need anything, Mom can help.”
I froze, my brain a fog of question marks. “Help? What does that mean?”
She seemed to realize her words sounded ambiguous and quickly clarified, “I mean, I can teach you how to handle these… desires healthily. Better than watching that filth.”
I still didn’t get it, but her offer lit a dangerous spark in me. Her dress was thin, her curves faintly visible, and I swallowed hard, my mind racing.

Chapter 2: The Taboo Beginning
After that day, the house felt different, charged with a strange tension. Mom didn’t bring up the incident again, but every time I saw her, I replayed her saying she’d “help” me. Her gentleness, her figure, even the sound of water from her showers drove me wild. I knew it was wrong, but teenage lust was a beast I couldn’t tame.
A few nights later, Dad was away again. After dinner, Mom was washing dishes in the kitchen while I watched TV, distracted. She wore a loose nightdress, the hem swaying with her movements, revealing glimpses of her fair calves. My head filled with filthy thoughts, my cock throbbing.
“Kai, help me dry the dishes?” she called, her voice warm as always.
I went to the kitchen, taking a plate from her, my fingers brushing hers. She smiled, unbothered, but that touch sent my pulse racing. I slowed my movements, standing close, stealing glances at her profile. Her neckline dipped low, hinting at her cleavage. My brain short-circuited, and I blurted, “Mom, what did you mean by… helping me?”
Her hand shook, nearly dropping a plate. She turned, face red, eyes flustered. “Kai, don’t overthink it. I just want you to grow up healthy.”
“But I’m really struggling,” I said softly, feigning pitifulness. “It’s every day, and it’s overwhelming. You said you’d help…”
Her face burned, lips trembling as if wrestling with herself. After a long pause, she whispered, “Fine, but this stays between us. Never tell anyone, especially your dad.”
My heart leapt, barely believing she’d agreed. She dried her hands, led me to the living room, turned off the TV, and sat me on the sofa. Sitting beside me, she hesitated, then said, “Take… take off your pants. I’ll help you… with my hand.”
My mind exploded. Trembling, I pulled down my pants, revealing my rock-hard cock. She glanced at it, blushing furiously, but reached out, her warm, soft hand wrapping around me. My body jolted, the sensation electric. She moved slowly, and I clenched my teeth, ecstasy flooding me. Within minutes, I came, splattering her hand.
“Go clean up,” she murmured, voice shaky, rushing to wash her hands. Watching her back, my desire didn’t fade—it grew hungrier.

Chapter 3: Desire Unleashed
From that day, the line between us crumbled. Mom seemed to think “helping” was an extension of motherly love, but for me, it was a gateway to a forbidden abyss. Whenever Dad was away, I’d find excuses to approach her, whining about my “struggles.” She’d blush but agree, using her hand to relieve me. Her technique improved, even using lube, driving me to heights of pleasure.
But her hand wasn’t enough. I wanted more. One weekend, with Dad gone, I left the bathroom door unlocked while showering, shouting, “Mom, grab me a towel18 towel!” She pushed open the door and froze, seeing me naked, my erection blatant. “Kai, this isn’t right…” she stammered, but her eyes lingered.
I stepped closer, grabbing her hand and pressing it against my cock. “You said you’d help, Mom. I’m dying here.”
She resisted weakly, whispering, “I’m your mother…” but didn’t pull away. I lifted her nightdress, finding her wet. My restraint snapped. I pinned her against the sink, spreading her legs, and thrust into her hard. She screamed, then bit her lip, clutching my shoulders. I fucked her like an animal, her tight heat driving me insane, her moans escalating from whimpers to wild cries.
That night, I ravaged her from bathroom to bedroom, trying every position. She went from resisting to matching my frenzy, lost in lust. Afterward, she curled up on the bed, shame etched on her face, muttering, “This is the last time. Never again.”

Chapter 4: Perverse Evolution
Mom’s “last time” was a lie she told herself. I’d tasted her and couldn’t stop. The more she resisted, the more I craved her submission. When Dad was away, I’d seduce her—parading naked, sneaking into her bed, or groping her while she cooked. Her resistance weakened, and one night, she stripped and lay on my bed, saying, “Kai, if we can’t stop, do what you want.” Her eyes held shame and surrender.
I dove into perverse play, ordering bondage gear online—handcuffs, whips, vibrators, anal plugs, SM outfits. The first time I cuffed her to the bedposts, she looked terrified, but when I whipped her ass, she moaned wantonly. Her body was more sensitive than I’d imagined, ripe for training.
I made her wear lingerie, serving me like a sex slave. She’d kneel, sucking me clean, or I’d use vibrators to make her cum repeatedly in the living room. Once, I blindfolded and tied her to the dining table, dripping hot wax on her, her screams and pleas pushing me to the edge.

Chapter 5: Public Madness
My desires outgrew the house. I craved public thrills. I found an underground club online for “special tastes” and coerced Mom into going. She wore a tight leather skirt I picked, no underwear, her nipples and pussy outlined. I brought a bag of toys, buzzing with predatory excitement.
The club, in a hidden basement, reeked of booze and sweat. Naked dancers writhed, couples fucked openly, and a stage hosted an SM show. I dragged Mom onstage, stripping her bare under the spotlight. The crowd jeered as I tied her, suspending her, and tortured her with whips, vibrators, and shock wands. Her amplified screams filled the club. I fucked her mercilessly before the audience, letting strangers toy with her. The scene was a hellish orgy, her body a canvas of humiliation, cumming relentlessly.

Chapter 6: Endless Depravity
The club broke Mom. She wasn’t my gentle mother anymore, but my personal slut. At home, she initiated sex, sluttier than ever, wearing sheer lingerie to greet me, sucking me at the door. She’d use double-ended dildos with me in the bathroom until we collapsed.
I bought extreme toys—vacuum pumps, metal clamps, drugs to amplify desire. Once, I strapped her to a metal rig, fucking every hole as she screamed. Dad caught her sucking me one day but just shut the door and left for another trip. His silence freed us to spiral further.

Chapter 7: The Edge of Collapse
Mom called me “Master,” crawling like a bitch, ready for my whims. I took her to more underground dens, letting strangers ravage her, her humiliation fueling my arousal. But the thrill began to hollow me. I knew this was wrong, yet couldn’t stop. Mom’s body and mind were breaking, but she craved the depravity like a drug. Was I her master or desire’s slave?

Chapter 8: Cracks of Shame
Yakting never imagined she’d become this woman. In the dead of night, listening to cicadas, her soul felt split. One half was the nurturing mother, cooking for her husband, folding Kai’s clothes with a smile; the other, a depraved whore kneeling naked for her teenage son, letting him defile her in the filthiest ways.
Catching Kai masturbating shattered her calm life. Seeing him grip his erect cock, the pornstar’s moans blaring, shock gave way to shame—not for him, but for herself. A hot flush surged through her, a vile thought flickering: He’s grown, a man now.
She buried the thought, convincing herself her offer to “help” was motherly duty, shielding him from porn’s corruption. But when her hand first grasped his scalding cock, hearing his groans, her heart pounded wildly. She wasn’t helping—she was grazing a taboo edge, a dangerous thrill spreading within her.
“This is for his good,” she repeated, stroking him, watching his relief. She cloaked her unease in maternal logic, but each touch heightened her body’s sensitivity, her dreams filling with forbidden images. She feared alone time, her thoughts betraying her, the gentle Yakting slipping away.

Chapter 9: The Tug of Resistance and Surrender
When Kai pinned her in the bathroom, thrusting into her, Yakting’s soul tore apart. Pain, shame, and guilt flooded her. She wanted to shove him off, scream, “I’m your mom,” but her body betrayed her—the fullness, the submission, sent shudders of pleasure. She bit her lip, trying to drown ecstasy with pain, but when Kai came inside her, she let out a wanton moan, a stranger’s voice.
After, she curled up, tears falling silently. She hated her weakness, hated climaxing under her son’s assault. She swore it was the last time, vowing to reclaim her decency. She considered confessing to her husband, leaving this house, but Kai’s lustful gaze unraveled her. His desire mirrored her buried emptiness.
Her marriage was a husk. Her husband, always away, offered perfunctory sex before sleeping. She’d accepted this as normal, suppressing her desires, pouring herself into family. Kai unlocked her caged body and soul. In shame, she rationalized: I’m helping his teenage urges, a mother’s duty.
This self-deception crumbled. When Kai bound and whipped her, she craved the humiliation. Each lash, each vibrator’s buzz, plunged her into a dreamlike state, shame and pleasure entwined, erasing her identity. She anticipated Kai’s commands, yearning to be bound, degraded, possessed. This craving terrified her, yet she couldn’t resist.

Chapter 10: Public Descent
The night at the club was Yakting’s final battle. In a sheer leather skirt, exposed on stage, shame stabbed her soul. She wanted to flee, but Kai gripped her, whispering, “You’re mine, Mom. Stop pretending.”
His words shattered her defenses. She closed her eyes, letting him strip her, suspending her in ropes. Whips, shocks, strangers’ hands tortured her, pain mingling with relentless orgasms. The crowd’s jeers drowned her reason. She wasn’t Yakting, wasn’t a mother—just a body ruled by lust.
For the first time, she admitted she loved this fall. Shame fueled her, pleasure became her creed. She matched Kai’s thrusts, spreading for strangers, moaning brazenly. She knew she was done, but this ruin felt liberating. If I’m a slut, what’s left to fear? Tears and sweat mingled, dripping onto the stage.

Chapter 11: The Slave’s Awakening
After the club, Yakting’s psyche transformed. She stopped resisting, discarding maternal excuses. She seduced Kai, wearing his lingerie, kneeling to suck him when he came home. Her inner voice grew raw: I’m a mother, but I’m a woman. I want him, his roughness, his degradation.
Kai’s perverse toys—pumps, clamps, drugs—made her body hypersensitive, her soul twisted. Strapped to metal rigs, fucked like a specimen, she found sick satisfaction. Her orgasms weren’t just physical but a dive into self-destruction. She called Kai “Master” not because he demanded it, but because she needed a new identity.
She dreamed of the old Yakting, apron-clad, smiling for her family. Waking, she felt only void. The past was a stranger; the depraved present felt real. She demanded extreme play—public dens, stranger gangbangs, masturbating for Kai’s approval.

Chapter 12: Collapse and Rebirth
When her husband caught her sucking Kai, Yakting felt no fear, only apathy. His shocked face sparked one thought: You never knew me. His silence killed her last marital illusions. She surrendered fully to Kai’s taboo world.
But this came at a cost. Her body buckled under relentless sex and drugs, her mind teetering. At night, staring at the ceiling, emptiness gnawed. She couldn’t go back but didn’t know where this led. Was this fall freedom or a new cage?
Yet Kai’s touch, his commands, reignited her fire. She told herself: If this is hell, let me burn completely. Her depravity wasn’t shame anymore, but a defiance of fate, a betrayal of her old self.