The weight of years, worry, and unpaid bills pressed on Sarah’s shoulders, making her 44 feel closer to 64. Each morning started the same: the clatter of cheap pans as she made herself instant coffee, the rumble of the ageing washing machine in the basement, and the constant, maddening keyboard clicks and muffled explosions from Liam’s room upstairs. Her 18-year-old son, Liam, was a permanent fixture on their worn sofa, a landscape of empty chip packets and energy drink cans surrounding him like a fortress. He was supposed to be finding a job, contributing, and becoming an adult. Instead, he was… well, he was Liam.
Sarah worked double shifts at the diner, her feet aching, her smile plastered on thin, but it barely kept them afloat. She’d pleaded, reasoned, and even yelled at Liam to get a job. “Places are hiring everywhere, Liam!” she’d argued just last week, her voice tight with exhaustion and frustration. “Even flipping burgers is better than rotting away in here!”
His response was always a shrug, a grunt, and a mumbled, “Later, Mom.” Later never came.
Today, though, something shifted. Today, Sarah’s exhaustion tipped over into a volatile cocktail of anger and despair. She’d come home early, a migraine hammering behind her eyes, hoping to find some semblance of peace. Instead, the rhythmic thumping from Liam’s room was louder than usual, punctuated by stifled gasps. Curiosity, a gnawing unease, pulled her upstairs.
The door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open wider, her stomach dropping like a stone. Liam was at his desk, headphones on, oblivious to her presence, bathed in the lurid glow of his laptop screen. And on that screen… Sarah’s breath hitched in her throat. It was porn. Taboo porn. The kind that twisted mothers and sons into something grotesque and unnatural.
Disgust washed over her, so potent it almost choked her. Rage followed, hot and blinding. Years of suppressed resentment, of shouldering everything alone, of watching her son drift further and further away, erupted. She slammed the door open, the sound echoing through the small house.
Liam jumped, whipping around, headphones flying off. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with adolescent defiance. He quickly slammed the laptop shut, but the image was seared into Sarah’s brain, a sickening reminder of the depths he had sunk to.
“What the HELL, Liam!” Sarah’s voice cracked, raw with fury. “What in God’s name are you watching?!”
Liam’s face flushed crimson. He mumbled something unintelligible, avoiding her gaze.
“Don’t you dare mumble! Look at me! This… this filth… is this what you do all day? While I’m out there breaking my back to keep a roof over your head? While I’m starving myself to make sure you have food?!”
He finally looked up, his expression sullen, almost petulant. “It’s just… porn, Mom. Everyone watches porn.”
“Not that kind, Liam! Not that… twisted garbage!” Sarah struggled to articulate the revulsion that coiled in her gut. “Don’t you see how wrong this is? Don’t you have any shame?”
He shrugged again, the gesture infuriating her further. “Whatever, Mom. It’s not hurting anyone.”
“It’s hurting you, Liam! It’s rotting your brain! And it’s disgusting!” Tears pricked at her eyes, a mixture of anger and a deeper, more profound sadness. She felt like she had failed him somehow, that she had created this monster who hid in his room, indulging in the darkest corners of the internet while she struggled to keep them both afloat.
Then, a bizarre, desperate idea sparked in her mind. A dangerous, reckless gamble born out of pure, unadulterated desperation. It was insane, wrong, twisted even, mirroring the very filth she’d just witnessed. But in her broken, exhausted mind, it was the only thing that might break through Liam’s apathy.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze. Her voice, when she spoke, was low, and trembling, but laced with a chilling resolve.
“Fine, Liam,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “If… if that’s what you’re into. If that’s what gets you going.”
Liam’s eyebrows furrowed, confusion clouding his initial defiance. “What are you talking about, Mom?”
Sarah swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “I’ll make you a deal.”
He scoffed. “A deal? What kind of deal?”
“You want… this kind of thing, right?” She gestured vaguely towards the closed laptop, unable to bring herself to name the specific taboo. “Mother and son… porn.”
Liam’s eyes widened again, this time with a flicker of something else. Curiosity? Intrigue? Sarah pushed on, steeling herself against the wave of nausea rising in her throat.
“If you want… that… from me,” she forced herself to say, the words feeling alien and grotesque on her tongue, “then you have to earn it.”
He leaned forward, his earlier sullenness replaced by a sharp, unsettling focus. “Earn it? How?”
“You have to get a job, Liam. Any job. Anything that gets you out of this house and makes you contribute something. And you have to work a full week. Seven days. Not quitting after two. Not calling in sick. A full, honest week of work.”
Liam stared at her, his expression unreadable. He was silent for a long moment, then he finally spoke, his voice hesitant, tinged with disbelief. “And… and if I do?”
Sarah closed her eyes for a brief second, bracing herself. This was it. The point of no return. “If you work a full week, Liam,” she said, her voice barely louder than a breath, “then… then I will be… free use. For you.”
She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, unflinching despite the turmoil raging inside her. She saw shock, disbelief, then a slow, dawning realization creep into his eyes. He was actually considering it. This disgusting, insane offer.
Liam’s breath hitched in his throat, like he’d just run a marathon. He shoved a hand through his already messed-up hair, eyes bugging out, jumping back and forth between her face and the laptop screen. “Free use?” he choked out, his voice cracking. “What… what the hell does that even mean?”
Sarah felt that familiar wave of shame crash over her, cold and heavy. What am I doing? She was sinking, wasn’t she? Going down to his level, using the very filth that disgusted her to try and shake him up. But damn it, she was drowning here. Desperation was one hell of a drug, and right now, she was hooked.
“It means…” she started, her voice shaking so badly she almost couldn’t get the words out. “It means… you can do whatever you want, Liam. Whatever you see in those… those videos you watch.” She swallowed hard, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. “To me.”
Liam just stared, mouth hanging open a little. He looked genuinely stunned, like she’d slapped him across the face. He was caught somewhere between being totally grossed out and… yeah, maybe a little bit fascinated, in a sick way. Then, something shifted in his eyes. A spark, dark and hungry. Predatory.
“Anything?” he asked, voice going low and rough, almost a growl.
Sarah’s stomach did a nasty flip-flop. She wanted to puke, to bolt, to rewind time and swallow every single word she’d just uttered. But she was in too deep now. She had to see this through. She had to shock him, didn’t she? Jolt him awake from this endless teenage slump he was in. Slowly, barely moving, she nodded. Just a tiny, almost invisible dip of her chin.
“Anything,” she whispered, the word feeling like poison coating her tongue.
Liam swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Then, a slow, unsettling smile started to spread across his face, like something twisted and wrong was blooming there. “Even… even doggy style?” he asked, his voice all shaky and excited in a way that made Sarah’s skin crawl.
She squeezed her eyes shut again, fighting back the bile that was creeping up her throat. “Yes, Liam,” she said, her voice flat, all the life drained right out of it. “Even doggy style.”
He was quiet for another beat, and then it hit him. You could practically see the new idea click in his head. His eyes went wide, pupils dilating, almost manic. “We could… we could roleplay, like… like in those videos? Like… pretend you’re stuck in the washing machine, Mom?”
Sarah’s eyes snapped open. The washing machine. That same rumbling, clanking machine that filled the basement every morning, a constant soundtrack to the boring, exhausting grind of her life. The washing machine in the basement, where she spent hours sorting his dirty laundry, picking up after him, cleaning up after their whole damn lives.
A bitter, hysterical laugh bubbled up and burst out of her. “If… if that’s what you want, Liam,” she managed to say, the laugh turning into a sob that she choked back down before it could really take hold. “If that’s what it takes to get you to lift a finger and become a goddamn adult, then yes. We can pretend I’m stuck in the washing machine.”
“But when you do pretend,” he rushed on, his voice hyped up, “you gotta go along with it, Mom. Like, wear a short skirt and panties, and…”
Sarah cut him off, the frustration bubbling over. “Liam, you still haven’t got a job! I can’t believe I even suggested this,” she said, covering her face with her hands for a second, wanting to just disappear.
“I know, Mom, just hear me out!” he pleaded. “You wear that, and when I, you know, help myself to you, you pretend you’re shocked and you ask me what I’m doing, and get angry, and…”
She cut him off again, waving a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I get it… I get it, Liam.”
“Just so you know, Mom,” he said, puffing out his chest a little, a smirk playing on his lips. “I… I have a big one. That’s why me and Becky broke up, actually. Silly, I know, but ten inches? How is that a bad thing?”
Sarah’s jaw dropped. Ten inches? Fucking ten inches? she thought, the words echoing in her head. She’d never been with anyone that… big before. Never even imagined it.
A week went by. Unbelievably, Liam actually landed a job at the takeout place down the road. On his way home from his shift, he sent his mom a text: “On my way home mom, think the laundry needs doing, if you get what I mean 😉”. He’d even added a winking emoji.
A shiver, not entirely unpleasant, ran down her spine as she read the text. Damn it, he actually kept his word. She went to her room, a strange mix of dread and something else twisting in her stomach. She pulled off her jeans and pulled on a short denim skirt, the kind that barely covered her, and the black lace panties she knew Liam had sometimes… looked at. Yep, bending over even a little, they were definitely visible. Here goes nothing, she thought, making her way down to the basement. She checked to make sure the washing machine was empty – she really didn’t want to actually be stuck. Then, she got into position, kneeling on all fours, head inside the cool, metal drum, pretending, just like he’d asked.
Sarah’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the quiet basement. She knelt there, before the cold, humming washing machine, her head shoved inside the dark opening. Just a short skirt and thin panties – exactly as Liam had instructed. The denim felt flimsy against her skin, offering zero comfort, zero protection.
She could hear his footsteps coming down the creaky wooden stairs, each step echoing in the tense silence. Anticipation and a stomach-churning dread warred inside her. This was really happening. This insane, twisted bargain she’d made with her own son. The lengths she was going to, just to maybe, just maybe, shake him into some kind of action. Is this really going to work? What am I doing?
The footsteps stopped right behind her. Sarah tensed, holding her breath, every nerve ending screaming. “Well, well, well…” Liam’s voice was low, husky, almost a purr. “What do we have here? Mommy all bent over and ready. Looking like a bitch in heat.”
Sarah’s cheeks burned, hot with humiliation at his crude words, but she bit down on her lip, hard. This was part of it, wasn’t it? To swallow her pride, to endure his trashy talk, his filthy language.
Liam’s shadow fell over her, blocking out the dim basement light. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, sense him close, too close. She could practically feel the thick pressure of his erection straining against his jeans, just inches from her exposed ass.
“Mommy, whatcha doing down there?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery, cruel and teasing. “Is that how you do the laundry now? With your head stuck in the washing machine?”
Sarah swallowed hard, forcing herself to play the part, to put on the act. “Liam! What are you doing?! Get out of here! You can’t just… you can’t see your mother like this!”
“Oh, but I’m gonna do more than just see you, Mom.” His voice dropped, turning into a low, lustful growl that sent shivers down her spine despite the disgust. “I’m gonna fuck you, Mom. I’m gonna pound your pussy with my big, fat ten-inch cock.”
Sarah shuddered, a mix of revulsion and a shameful, traitorous flicker of something else… arousal? It couldn’t be. But her core tightened anyway, her cunt clenching, already getting slick and wet with a desire she desperately wanted to deny. The secret, hidden part of her, the part she tried so hard to ignore, felt a sick thrill at the idea of being used, defiled by her own son, by his monstrous cock.
Liam reached down, his hand rough as it gripped the hem of her skirt and yanked it up higher, bunching it around her waist, leaving her ass completely bare. He stared, his breath hitching again. “Look at that, Mom. Your pussy’s already dripping wet for me. You want this, don’t you? You want me to mount you like a whore and fuck your brains out?”
“No! No, Liam, stop! We can’t…” Sarah protested weakly, the words barely a whisper, but it was too late. He wasn’t listening.
With one swift, brutal tug, Liam ripped away her flimsy lace panties, tearing the delicate fabric, baring her most private parts to his hungry gaze. The cool, damp air of the basement kissed her slick folds, making her gasp, shiver.
“Fuck, Mom, you’re so wet,” Liam breathed, his voice thick with lust, raw and uncontrolled. “I’m gonna enjoy this so much.”
And then, without another word, he grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass in a bruising grip. He positioned himself behind her, and with one sharp, brutal thrust, he shoved his huge cock deep inside her tight channel.
Sarah cried out, a sharp gasp more from shock than pain at first. Oh God, he really is huge. Stretching her, filling her in a way she never had been before. It burned, a raw, stretching ache as he bottomed out inside her, his heavy balls slapping against her clit with a sickening thud.
Then Liam started to move, and any coherent thought shattered and dissolved in the ruthless pounding of his cock. He was merciless, slamming into her over and over, his hands still clamped tight on her ass, squeezing and kneading as he used her like she was nothing more than a cheap, disposable fucktoy.
The wet, obscene slap of flesh on flesh echoed around the cold basement, mingling with Liam’s grunts of pleasure and Sarah’s helpless, involuntary moans. The washing machine rattled and clanked along with the brutal rhythm of Liam’s thrusts, a sick, metallic beat to their fucked-up symphony.
“Take it, Mom. Unhh… Take my big fucking cock,” Liam growled, each word punctuated by sharp, stinging smacks to her jiggling ass cheeks. Slap, slap. “You’re mine now. My personal fucktoy to use whenever I want.”
Sarah’s mind spun, reeling with the shock of it all. Liam’s massive cock, stretched her pussy beyond anything she’d ever experienced, his relentless thrusts shaking her body to its core. The absolute humiliation of it, being taken right here, like some cheap whore, bent over the washing machine in her own basement… it was almost unbearable.
She could feel every inch of him inside her as his enormous shaft plunged in and out, the thick veins and ridges scraping, dragging along her sensitive walls. He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up, just kept driving into her cunt, deeper and harder with each thrust.
“Ahhhhh… ummmm… my pussy…” Sarah moaned, her voice breaking, the sounds getting louder, more desperate. The sound of her ass cheeks clapping against his abs echoed in the room, a sickening, rhythmic beat as he pumped into her juicy slit, faster and faster, her head still trapped in the cold, metal maw of the washing machine.
“Too much good dick?” Liam sneered, but there was a tremor of his own pleasure in his voice now. “Don’t lie, Mom. You love it. You’re soaking wet for me.” He slapped her ass again, harder this time. “Admit it. Tell me you want me.”
Tears pricked at Sarah’s eyes, but through the haze of shock and sensation, a different kind of voice began to emerge, a primal sound she barely recognized as her own. “Yes… fuck… yes, Liam…” she gasped, her fingers digging into the cold metal of the machine for purchase. “Harder… please… harder…”
“I can’t believe I am fucking your pussy. So glad I found… ah fuck, so glad I found a job.” Liam panted as he took her hard from behind.
“Yes… fuck… Liam… harder…” she gasped, the words ripped from her as he drove into her again and again.
Her hand went under her and found her clit she fiercely started rubbing it hard as his dick hammered into her needy cunt.
Liam’s thrusts became more urgent, his hips slapping against Sarah’s ass with bruising force. She could feel her orgasm building, a tight knot of pleasure in her belly that threatened to consume her. She pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts with her own, her moans growing louder and more desperate.
“Yes, Liam, harder!” she cried out, her voice barely recognizable. “Fuck me harder, make me cum!”
Liam didn’t need any more encouragement. He grabbed a handful of Sarah’s hair, tugging her head back as he pounded into her from behind. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, the sensation almost too much to bear.
“I’m gonna cum, Mom!” Liam groaned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna fill your pussy with my cum!”
Sarah felt her own orgasm crash over her like a wave, her entire body shaking with the force of it. She cried out, her voice muffled by the washing machine, as Liam’s cock twitched inside her, flooding her pussy with his hot, sticky load.
They stayed like that for a moment, panting and trembling, their bodies slick with sweat. Liam slowly pulled out of Sarah, a trail of cum following his cock as he stepped back. Sarah stood up, wincing as her sore muscles protested, and turned to face him.
“Did… did I do good?” Liam asked, his voice hesitant.
Sarah looked at him, her mind still reeling from what had just happened. She couldn’t believe what she had allowed him to do, what she had encouraged him to do. But she couldn’t deny the way her body still thrummed with pleasure, the way her pussy still tingled from his rough treatment.
“Yes, Liam,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. “You did good.”
Liam smiled a genuine, happy smile that made Sarah’s heartache. She realized then that this was what she had wanted all along, what she had been trying to achieve with her desperate gambit. She had wanted to connect with her son, to break through the walls that he had built around himself.
And in that moment, as they stood there in the basement, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of their illicit encounter, Sarah knew that she had succeeded. She had broken through to Liam, and she had found the connection that she had been craving.
It wasn’t conventional, and it wasn’t healthy. But it was something, and for now, that would have to be enough.