"Now sit still," Jon's mother commanded as she pushed him down onto the wooden kitchen chair.
Jon, of course, complied. Not that he had a choice in the matter. Ever since he had woken up in this bizarre reality, he had found that no matter what he wanted to do, his mother's commands were unbreakable. She could have told him to jump off a cliff and he would have gladly complied.
Maybe calling this woman his mother wasn't the right term, Jon thought to himself as he watched her step out of her blue-jeans, pull her t-shirt off, and stand before him in nothing but a pair of pantyhose. Sure, she looked like his mother, only younger, sexier, and flatter. How could she possibly be his mother in this world? Was she even old enough?
Mommy was the term he kept using, which didn't mean anything. Maybe that was a term of endearment. Maybe that was a title given to women who took care of their boy-toys. Jon didn't know, but wished he had the ability to find out, to ask questions, to investigate.
The problem was that mommy kept him on such a short leash, leading his life with a series of commands, that he barely had time to think, no less investigate. It was bad enough being stuck in this overly sexy she-male body, but not being able to understand why was worse.
Mommy crossed the kitchen, grabbed a small towel from a drawer, and dropped it on the floor by Jon's feet. Then she walked toward him, the soft sound of her stockings padding on the linoleum floor the only sound Jon could hear, placed her hands on his knees and leaned in to look him in the eyes.
"Today could be a big day, Sweet-Meat," Jon could feel her breath on his face, but didn't move, as ordered, "One of the suitors I've lined up could take a shining to you and adopt you this very afternoon. As long as you do as your told and act as I've taught you, everything will work out just fine. Do you understand me? You're to be perfect for your suitors, just like I want you to be."
"Yes ma'am," Jon squeaked quietly, the knowledge that his afternoon would be spent following an order he didn't quite understand sinking in.
"Excellent," Mommy smiled, straightening, "Then let's get milking."
She lowered herself onto Jon's lap, wrapping her pantyhose-clad legs around his waist, and began to grind her groin against his gigantic penis. Within seconds he was erect, this obscene tower of masculinity pointing straight up at his massive bosom.
"Very good, Jonnie," Mommy encouraged, "keep it up and we'll be done in no time flat!"
The feeling of the pantyhose rubbing against his penis was making Jon go wild. If he had the ability to move, he would have grabbed his mommy and ground back. As it was, he was completely passive, at her whim.
Jon moaned in frustration as she climbed off of his lap, leaving him horny and frustrated. Then moaned again in pleasure as she climbed back on, this time facing away from him. She began to run his penis up and down her round ass-crack, the soft touch of the pantyhose sending electric shivers directly into his brain through his cock.
He didn't last long.
Fountains of sperm erupted, spraying his mommy's ass, her back, her hair, and the bottom of his own gigantic breasts. Jon's whole body wanted to shiver, but he resisted, still following the order to sit still. When his mommy climbed off of him, he still sat, waiting another order.
After cleaning herself off with the towel she had dropped at his feet, she tossed the sperm-soaked item at Jon, hitting him in the face, landing on top of his breasts.
"Clean yourself up, then head upstairs and make sure you are ready for presentation in forty-five minutes. I want you looking ready for adoption, so make sure you get it right."
Jon grabbed the sperm-soaked towel and dabbed the dripping sperm from below his breasts. Then, as quickly as he could wiggle from the room, he headed back upstairs to prepare himself for suitors.
Whatever that meant.
