IOU
By Rude Boy, rudeboi66@yahoo.com
A mother cashes in on her son's birthday, and she has a big surprise for him.


As Johnny Murphy awoke, he rolled onto his back and smiled. Things were
looking up. Today was his 18th birthday, and in another month he'd be off to
college, finally free of her. Johnny bounded out of bed, giddy at the thought.

Throwing on a shirt and sweatpants, Johnny bounded down the stairs and rounded
the corner into the kitchen. "Good morning, birthday boy," came the call over
his shoulder. The young man looked over to see his mother in the breakfast
nook, wrapped in a silk robe and nursing a cup of coffee. Morning light
pouring through the window behind cast her face in shadows, pierced only by
her icy-blue eyes. The sun dappled her auburn hair. She was, as usual, a
vision."Thanks, mom!" he beamed back. "What's for breakfast?"

"It's funny you bring that up," she smirked back at him. "You know, I thought
I'd offer to make you anything you want for your special day: pancakes,
waffles, biscuits and gravy..."

"Thanks Mom, waffles sound great!"

She laughed, and continued. "I thought I'd make you that offer, but then," she
paused, reaching into the pocket of her robe, "I remembered this."

"No..." Johnny's face dropped as he saw her produce a little sheet of paper
that simply read "I.O.U." "You can't seriously use that on my birthday."

"I believe, Evelyn..." she paused for dramatic effect as Johnny bit his lip
and roiled internally. He hated when she used his first name. He had gone by
Johnny since first grade, and only his two closest friends knew. But Marilyn
took a barely veiled pleasure in calling her son "Evelyn." "I believe that we
agreed I can use this whenever I want. And today is the day I want you to be
my slave."

Johnny's heart sank. She had bullied him into the IOU during their latest
wrestling match, a couple of months before, refusing to let him tap until he
consented. The result, as always, had been a foregone conclusion. Johnny had
never beaten Marilyn at wrestling, a "family tradition" owing to her days as
an Olympic hopeful, before a failed blood test scuppered her dreams. But what
had bgeun as innocent play in Johnny's youth, had slowly morphed into
something much darker. Since Johnny hit puberty, their wrestling sessions had
become little more than outright beatings that Johnny was forced to endure any
time he flunked a test, forgot a chore, or the mood simply struck her. Usually
she was careful not to leave much visible damage, but sometimes she lost
control in the heat of the moment. After their last bout, Johnny spent 4 weeks
in a walking boot.

"Mom, please, not today."

"Tell you what," She said coyly, "Why don't we arm-wrestle. If you win, I'll
tear this card up right now and make you breakfast. And if I win, you can
start your 24 hours by making me breakfast."

"Mom, please. You know I can't..."

"I'm not asking," she replied coolly. Johnny sat across the table from his
mother. Johnny was athletic, a varsity soccer player who had also wrestled
before he stopped growing at 5'8". Marilyn, on the other hand, was a specimen.
She was 5'11" barefoot, and at 190 lbs, 50 lbs heavier than her son. Following
her decorated college athletics career, she had channeled the failure of her
Olympic dream into bodybuilding. Her intense devotion had paid for itself in
more ways than one. Daily workout videos of Marilyn lifting obscenely heavy
weights had made her enough of a social media star that her lifestyle now paid
for itself.

Pulling back the sleeve of her robe to reveal her softball-sized bicep, she
rested her elbow on the table. Resignedly, Johnny did the same, clasping her
hand. She stared intently at her son, who met her gaze for a split-second
before dropping his eyes to the table. Just another of the mind games she
played so well.

Johnny was popular in high school. He was good looking, with long, blonde hair
and a winning smile, and, despite his short stature, his goal-scoring exploits
on the soccer team made him popular with the ladies. They even had a shot at
state before an unfortunate off-field injury sidelined Johnny during the
playoffs. His girlfriend, Jenny Campbell, was one of the prettiest
cheerleaders in school. He was confident in his life outside these walls. But
here, with his mother, he felt powerless.

"On three," she said, and Johnny steeled himself. "One... two... three!"
CRACK. She slammed his hand instantly onto the table, as though there were no
resistance at all, causing her son to yelp in pain.

"Jesus, mom," he howled as he yanked his hand away and cradled it, "You could
have broken it."

"If that's the best you can do, you deserve it. Now," she smiled brightly at
her son. "What's for breakfast? I think pancakes sound great, don't you?"

Johnny thought about arguing but quickly realized the futility. With learned
dutifulness, he made his way into the kitchen and began to cook.

"Mmmmm," Marilyn said, looking up from the remnants of her 4th pancake, "You
sure do know how to cook." She reached across the table, pinching his cheek
just too hard to be playful. "You're gonna make a wonderful housewife,
someday."

Johnny bit his tongue as he rose from the table, careful to collect her plate
first, and walked to the sink. "Once you finish cleaning those dishes, I've
got lots of other chores for you to do." She sat, sipping her coffee and
checking her phone while he washed up. When he finished, he turned to her,
"Now what?"

"I'm going to go get my nails done. You're going to clean this house
top-to-bottom while I'm gone." Johnny sighed heavily and turned to fetch
supplies from the laundry room. "Wait. Before you get started, I have a
present for you." She stood from the table and headed towards the hall.
"Follow me."

Johnny followed his mother down the long hall to her first-floor master suite.
Johnny stopped short as he rounded the corner into her room. Laid out on the
bed were panties, a corset, and a skimpy, pink maid's uniform. "Happy
Birthday, sweetie!" Marilyn shouted with a barely veiled laugh.

"What the fuck?"

Marilyn offered Johnny a soft smile. "Oh come on honey, try on your new
gifts."

"No. I'm not wearing that."

"Remember our arrangement dear. Today you do whatever I want. Now, get over
there and put on your uniform. I won't ask again."

"Fuck you!" Johnny spat back. He had barely enough time to register his
mistake before his mother's closed fist collided viciously with his face,
sending him to the ground in a heap.

"What did you say to me?" She leaned over him, cocking her fist in preparation
to deliver another blow. Johnny knew all too well what she was capable of and
he quickly threw himself at his mother's feet in a show of penitence. "I'm
s-sorry," he blubbered, "I'm so sorry."

Reaching down, Marilyn grabbed a handful of his lustrous hair, lifting him to
his feet and tossing him onto the bed. "Put it on," she commanded.

"Can-can I go change in the bathroom?"

"You can change right here. "

Sheepishly, Johnny turned away from his mother and began to strip, pausing
when he got to his boxers. "All the way, honey," she giggled, "It's nothing I
haven't seen before."

"When I was two?" Johnny asked, careful to moderate the tone of his voice.

Marilyn walked around the side of the bed to get a full view. "Well, by the
looks of things, not much has changed," she cackled. Johnny hung his head in
embarrassment. Fully erect, he was just short of average, but now his cock was
shriveled to less than an inch, practically hiding itself in his balls.

He quickly grabbed the panties off the bed but before he could slip them on
she stopped him. "I almost forgot. First things first you have to shave.
There's a razor on my bathroom counter. Shave that peach fuzz you try to pass
off as a beard, shave your legs, and shave your balls. Maybe it will make that
tiny thing look bigger."

Johnny looked at her pathetically, hoping for a reprieve. She crossed her arms
and stared him down, leaving no doubt she meant business. Johnny slinked into
the bathroom. When he returned 20 minutes later, clean shaven all over, he
slipped on the panties. Looking down at the corset he wondered aloud, "How do
I..."

"Here," she said, "Allow me." She pulled the corset around him, so tight he
gasped, and began to lace it. "It's too tight," he complained. "Just don't
take deep breaths," she said, cinching the corset even tighter, "We want that
outfit to show off your girlish figure."

After she finished and he shimmied awkwardly into maid's uniform, Marilyn
placed a firm hand on Johnny's shoulder. "You look pretty, honey," she said as
she led him to the seat at her dressing table. "Let's make you look hot." She
grabbed a deep red tube of lipstick and placed it in front of him. Gently, she
clasped her hand around his own, guiding it first to the to the lipstick and,
when that had been applied, mascara and blush. As he applied the finishing
touches to his makeup, boiling with impotent rage, she gathered his long hair
and pulled it taut, jerking him back until he was poised precariously on the
back legs of the chair. Reaching across to the table, she grabbed a small,
black hair tie and slipped it around Johnny's new ponytail.

"Stand up. Let me get a look at you." Johnny did as he was told. "Do a little
spin for me." She looked him up and down as he twirled, pinching his cheek as
he came to a stop. "Mmmm, you look good enough to eat. Let's complete this
ensemble." She walked into her closet, returning a moment later with a pair of
black stiletto heels. "Put these on. Then its time to get to work."

Johnny started in the kitchen as his mother dressed for her manicure and
headed out. He thought about taking off the heels before he remembered the
home security system's cameras. Over the next 3 hours, on hands and knees, he
cleaned the house top to bottom. When at last he was done, he plopped onto the
sofa and closed his eyes. Less than a minute passed before he heard his
mother's car pulling into the garage. He jumped up, standing at attention as
she entered. She walked past him with barely a nod, surveying his handiwork.
She walked down the hall to her bedroom, returning a few moments later and
taking a seat on the couch.

"Come here," she said, with evident disappointment. Johnny walked close to
her, and she held up her index finger. "Do you know what this is?" His heart
sank. "This is dust from my bathroom baseboards." She shook her head. "I told
you I wanted this place spotless."

"I'm sorry, mom. Let me go clean it."

"Lay on my lap."

"But..."

"You're my slave and slaves get punished, Evelyn. Lay on my lap." Johnny was
shaking as he leaned across her, burying his face in the couch. Slowly she
slid her hand up the back of his thigh, flipping up his skirt to expose his
pantied bottom, and sliding his panties down. SMACK! She reared back and
spanked him with all her might, causing his body to convulse as he howled in
pain. SMACK! SMACK! Again and again she rained down punishment upon his
exposed bottom, alternating cheeks with each blow. Johnny wept and wailed
violently, as each new strike radiated pain further through his body.

When at last she stopped, she allowed her son to cry for a few moments more
before putting him back to work. For the rest of the afternoon she put him to
work, fetching her snacks, drawing her a bath, massaging her feet. For an hour
she used him as a footstool as she watched TV. With the light in the sky
falling, she called him from the kitchen where he was prepping dinner.

"I need you to pick some things from the grocery store."

"Can I change at least?"

She just laughed. "No. You're going just like that. I'll text you a list, and
there are bags in the trunk. I want you back within an hour."

Johnny slid into the car. His ass was so sore he could barely sit. He kicked
off his heels, let down his hair and checked himself in the mirror. His makeup
was streaked from his tears and he did his best to wipe it away, mostly
succeeding in smearing it. Driving towards the store he shuffled in his seat
as his panties rode up his ass. The thought crossed his mind that he could
just drive off into the night and never come back, but fear held him back, and
he drove on to the store.

He parked and popped the trunk to retrieve the bags. When he opened it, he
nearly collapsed with joy. Bundled in the back was a long coat. Sure, it was a
woman's coat, and much too large for him, but anything would be better than
his skimpy uniform. He wrapped and belted the coat, looking down at his heels.
He kicked them off and tossed them into the trunk, but the moment he entered
the store a security guard stopped him. "Come back when you have shoes,
ummm... sir?"

Johnny returned in the heels moments later and half-sprinted, half-stumbled
through the store, desperate to get out as quickly as possible. He could sense
the eyes of his fellow shoppers upon him, feeling more ridiculous, more
embarrassed, by the second. He just prayed he didn't see anyone he knew.

He hustled through produce, grabbed a dozen eggs without checking them, and
dashed down the final aisle, snagging peanut butter on the way. He was making
great time. Miraculously there was no line at the front, and soon he was on
his way towards the door, bags in hand. But as he rounded the corner to
freedom he ran face first into the chest of a large, well-built man. "Pardon
me..." he mumbled and tried to rush past, but the man grabbed him by the arm.

"Johnny? Is that you?" Oh fuck. Johnny looked up to realize it was Brad
Miller, a standout linebacker on his High School football team. Brad was a
little douchey, but they had always gotten along well. "Jesus Johnny, are you
wearing makeup? And high heels?"

"It's ummm, a prank."

Brad started to chuckle. "It's fucking 80 degrees man. What are you hiding
under that coat?" Brad reached in and grabbed the belt, and as Johnny
recoiled, his coat fell open, leaving his tiny outfit on full display. Brad
was howling with laughter now. He turned to a pretty girl behind him, who
Johnny hadn't even noticed. He recognized her from his English class. "Are you
getting this, babe?" Johnny suddenly realized she was filming. "Yo," Brad
mugged for the camera, "Get a load of Johnny Murphy, Airdale High's very own
sissy."

Mortified, Johnny dashed out the door and to the car. He knew there was
nothing he could do. By tomorrow his entire high school would know his shame.
With the school year already over, he took solace knowing he didn't have to
see them tomorrow, but they would all see him like this - his friends... his
teammates... Jenny. He was shaking the whole way home, and as he dropped the
bags in the kitchen and turned the corner into the living room to find his
mother in her robe on the couch, his emotions overwhelmed him. "Mmm-mommy..."
he blubbered.

Marilyn's usually cold features softened, and she opened her arms. Johnny
nearly leapt into them. She cradled him close as he rested his head against
the fullness of her breast. "Honey, what's the matter."

"B-Brad saw me at the store, like this, and his girlfriend took a video. He-he
called me a sissy, and now everyone's going to see." She held him tighter as
he sobbed against her, stroking the back of his head gently. Johnny felt warm
and safe in her arms, for the first time in years. He nuzzled against the
softness of her bosom, and slowly regained his composure.

As his tears subsided he looked up into her eyes. She smiled down at him,
still cradling the back of his head with her strong hand. "Evelyn, honey, I'm
sorry that boy was mean to you. But you are a sissy. You're a sissy bitch."
Something in her eyes changed, and she laced her hands through his long hair.
Instinctively, Johnny trembled. She reached down with her free hand and
loosened the belt on her robe, letting it fall open.

"Jesus christ," Johnny tried to recoil in horror, but Marilyn's hand held him
firm, forcing him to bear witness to her majesty. Hanging between her bulging
thighs was the largest cock he had ever seen. Mostly flaccid, lolling over two
balls the size of small oranges, it was easily 9 inches, and as thick as his
wrist.

"Kiss it, honey," she commanded, forcing his head towards the behemoth between
her legs, until his lips pressed against the tips. "Kiss it." Johnny gave it a
quick peck, causing it to stir. Marilyn stood, pulling her son off the couch
and dropping him at her feet. Throwing off her robe, she revealed her majesty
to him. Johnny gasped audibly as he traced her figure with his eyes, moving up
her sculpted calves, over her thickly-muscled thighs to her rippling,
perfectly defined abs. Mountainous breasts hung perfectly pert against the
background of her flared chest. Even in repose, veins ran like rivulets down
arms cut from corded steel.

As Marilyn watched her son revel in her incredible figure, her cock began to
harden, drawing Johnny's gaze and shocking him back into the reality of his
predicament. "Mom, how..."

She stepped close, gathering his hair in her hands and once again forcing his
towards her mammoth member, which now protruded a foot from her crotch. "Good
sissies don't ask questions. Good sissies do what they're best at. Suck
mommy's cock, sissy."

She pressed his head closer, forcing him to take her in his mouth. "Use your
hands, bitch. Stroke me while you suck me." Johnny gripped the mighty shaft
with one hand, stroking gently as she pushed and pulled his mouth over her
cock-head. "Oh god, that's a good bitch," she moaned she she guided him up and
down her shaft. "Use your tongue." Johnny slowly began to swirl his tongue
around her tip, and she began to shudder. With one, brutal effort, she shoved
her cock all the way into her son, feeling paroxysms of ecstasy overwhelm her
as she barged down his tight throat.

Johnny's eyes went wide as his windpipe was blocked off, struggling
desperately to breathe through his nose as she came, pumping what felt like
gallons of cum inside him. Looking down with lustful menace, Marilyn, pinched
her son's nose. Her orgasm hit new heights as he spasmed against and around
her, unable to breathe. As his eyes rolled back in his head, the torrent
subsided and she released him. Johnny coughed, and semen erupted from his nose
and mouth, flowing from his face like a river as he slid off her shaft and
crumpled to the floor.

Marilyn sat on the couch, basking in the afterglow, while Johnny continued to
cough and gag on the floor. She allowed him only a few moments of reprieve
before she motioned to her still-erect cock. "Your work isn't done by a long
shot, slut. Bring that sweet ass up here."

Johnny was practically hyperventilating as he stood, his cum-covered face
contorted in confusion and fear. "W-what?"

"Evelyn Murphy, get over here and sit on my cock."

Johnny's survival instincts took hold and he glanced over his shoulder towards
the hallway. Turning back to her, he hesitated for a moment before taking off.
He was still in his heels, and Marilyn was off the couch and after him in a
flash. He bolted for the closest room, her bedroom, as she closed in. Reaching
the room he tried desperately to close the large double-doors behind him. He
was less than an inch away when she barreled through the door, sending him
sprawling to the floor. He scrambled towards the bathroom, but she pounced on
his back, wrapping her powerful arm around him. In an awesome display of
power, she hoisted him in a sleeper hold and plunged onto the bed, crushing
the air from her son's fragile form.

Forcing his face into the bed with one hand, Marilyn spat in the other,
spreading her son's cheeks and massaging her homemade lube over his exposed
asshole. With knowing fluidity she slid up, still forcing his face into the
bed, and pressed the giant head of her dick against him. Johnny's eyes widened
as he felt the pressure intensify against his cherry. His screams were muffled
by the mattress as she forced her way inside him. It felt like she was filling
his entire body, like she would tear him in two, but still she d herself
deeper inside him. When he had taken all of her, she pulled out slowly until
her cockhead stretched his asshole, then plunged back into him. Steadily she
gathered steam, pumping in and out of him as she felt him continue to writhe
and scream beneath her.

Johnny felt her lean in as she violated him, her soft breasts pressing into
his back as she whispered in his ear, "Fuck, Evelyn, you're so tight." The
pain was excruciating, but he couldn't deny the electric sensation each time
she rammed into his prostate. His whole body was on fire as she turned him
over mid-stroke. "Tell me how much you love being fuck by mommy. Beg mommy to
fuck you harder."

"Mommy," Johnny cried, "Please fuck me harder." Tears streamed down his face
as she pistoned in and out of him. She leaned close, smiling as she licked the
tears from his face, still pounding him with animal fury. Slowly she tightened
her grip around his windpipe, choking him violently. His body shook as he
neared unconsciousness, and he felt warmth flood into him as his world went
black.

When Johnny awoke, it was morning. He was dressed in sweats, in his own bed.
He briefly wondered if he had dreamt it all, but the throbbing pain in his ass
quickly disabused him of that notion. Tentatively he made his way downstairs.
He found his mother in her usual spot in the breakfast nook. Looking up at her
son with a wicked smile, she said, "You probably have some questions."