The morning was bright. Jon could tell, even through his closed eyes. The memory of his actions the night before haunted him, filled him with revulsion. Why had he given himself so completely to Zoe? His body had betrayed him over and over, forcing him to act in an increasingly feminine, and sexual, fashion. Over and over he'd allowed Zoe to have her way with him, taking him from every angle, in every way imaginable.
But as he lay with his eyes closed, hoping that the nightmare was over, something felt different. Jon lay still, feeling the warm mattress beneath him, the sunlight pouring through his eyelids, and felt a pleasurable feeling.
Jon had a cock!
Not only that, but someone was rubbing his cock!
Jon opened his eyes. Above him, standing proudly, rubbing his erect penis with her stocking-clad foot, was what looked like a young, hot version of his mother. Well, a young, hot, flat version of his mother. The woman standing over him with a hungry smile had nothing on her chest but a tuft of hair. No sign of breasts, only masculine pectorals.
"Well good morning, sweet-meat," this strange version of his mother said, "I see it's finally time for sleeping beauty to wake up."
With dread, Jon looked down at this body. His gaze didn't get far, though, as obstructing his view was a pair of huge breasts, standing proudly where his masculine chest used to be. With every rub of his mother's foot, the breasts swayed in rhythm, causing Jon to shiver with pleasure.
"Now, am I going to have to come down there to get that cum out, or are you going to be a good little plaything and squirt for mommy?"
"Wha...?" Jon squeaked, his voice high and girlish.
"Hush now," his mother instructed, "boy-toys shouldn't say anything before their morning milking. It's not proper."
Jon wanted to protest, but at his mother's instruction, his mouth shut tight. It was as if his willpower was instantly sapped from him, leaving him powerless to do anything but lie there and enjoy the foot-job.
And enjoy it he did, even though a piece of him told him how very wrong it was. His mother's foot teased, rubbed, and held his penis in every way that made him wild. As the nylon-encased foot touched him, his whole body seemed to be on fire, as if she was tapping directly into the pleasure centres of his brain, but his brain was in his penis.
It didn't take long, but soon enough a fountain of sperm erupted, spraying his mother's foot, his stomach, as well as the bottom of his huge breasts. As his body spasmed, his mother climbed off the bed and wiped her foot on a towel that she had placed on the floor earlier. He watched through pleasure-clouded eyes as she grabbed a t-shirt and jeans, slipped them on, and crossed to the door.
"Don't waste all day in bed, Jonnie," she said over her shoulder, "You have lots of chores to do, and I want to make sure you get them done before your lunch-time milk. Also, we have some suitors coming to look at you today, so snap to it and get ready."
She left the room, leaving Jon alone. His mother's words ringing in his ears, Jon...
