The basement

You usher Sharon into the basement ahead of you and shut the wooden door behind you.

The basement is well lit, your mother having flipped the light switch on her way downstairs. As you follow Sharon, your eyes fall to her juicy, bubble butt. Her tight pants dig into her asscrack, accentuating the shape of her buttcheeks. Her ass jiggles slightly as she moves down the stairs.

She tilts her head to peer at you from over her shoulder. She rolls her eyes slightly when she notices exactly where you’re looking, but the subtle twitch of her lips tells you she isn’t annoyed with you checking her out.

It’s almost enough to make you smirk. You’ve done quite the number on her. Just a day ago, she’d have gotten all flustered if she caught you looking at her that way. Now, you pretty much have license to look at her any damn way you please.

You reach the foot of the stairs and peer at the basement. It’d been fully carpeted and furnished when your family had moved in here well over a decade ago, sporting a thin white carpet. There used to be an entertainment system down here when you were younger, but your mother had gotten rid of it when she’d tired of you spending all your time down here. In its stead was an exercise mat, an assortment of weights, a treadmill, and an exercise bike.

Often, you’d come down and stay on the stairs just to watch your mother or sister exercise or do yoga. It’s funny; your mother had taken one form of entertainment away from you and ended up unknowingly replacing it with a much better one.

Your mother stands in the middle of the basement. She’s idly looking over the exercise equipment when she hears you and Sharon come up from behind her. Her blue eyes light up when she sees you, and isn’t that an incredible sight?

“Hey.” Your mother greets you. “So, what was it you wanted to talk to me and Sharon about?”

Honestly, you hadn’t known what you were going to say when you’d first told your mother that you wanted to talk to her in private. You thought about asking for something sexual, but the risk of your father coming down to the basement and finding the two of you makes such a course of action incredibly shortsighted and stupid. If you’re going to keep your new power secret and continue to enjoy its fruits, you can’t afford to keep thinking like a horny teenager. You need to actually sit down and come up with a solid plan, and only take advantage of opportunities when there is minimal to no risk of discovery. You’d already played it kind of close by having sex with Sharon within earshot of Tiffany, but if she saw or heard anything you could always make her forget about it later on during her next trance. With Dad, and men in general, you do not have that luxury.

The gravity of your situation dawns on you when Sharon sidles up next to you. She avoids touching you, but only just. She eyes you longingly, and even if you hadn’t had sex with her, you’d have to be an idiot not to notice her demeanor towards you has completely changed since yesterday. Sharon’s potential exit had prompted you to keep her along for the ride. It’s strange. After the last couple of days, it’s like you can’t stand to have her out of your sight. It’s like you’ve gotten used to having her around. Your heart sinks. You can’t have her around forever. She has a life, a job, and a family. Acquaintances who’d start asking questions if she suddenly began spending all her time with you.

So, you’ve gotten Mom and Sharon into the basement. You can’t do anything too sexual with them without risking discovery. Could you… talk? You suppose you could, but what about? You’d given Sharon a command earlier to basically accept anything you proposed in the basement.

“Um, is everything all right? Are you okay?” your mother asks, a strange undercurrent of concern in her voice. God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to her treating you with any measure of warmth.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you stammer. Fuck, you have to think of something. Anything. Think. You look downward and happen to see Mom’s yoga mats again. And suddenly it hits you. “I’m just… You know how you and Tiffany are always coming down here to do yoga?”

Your mother nods slowly.

“I do. Well, it’s not so much Tiffany anymore since she had Ronnie. Honestly, she needs to start coming down here again. It’s about time she started losing the baby fat,” Mom shakes her head exasperatedly.

You blink. Sounds like Mom and Tiffany

“So, brought me down here to ask me about my yoga sessions?” Mom asks flatly.

You shrug.

“Kind of,” you say. “I’ve actually been meaning to get myself into shape. If I’m going to get out there in the world, I need my mind and body to be as healthy as possible. A healthy body creates a healthy mind. Isn’t that right, Sharon?”

Your girlfriend/therapist nods enthusiastically, her lips curling into a wide grin.

“That’s right! A common misconception about psychology is that it’s strictly confined to the mind. Proper dieting and exercising are essential to maintaining a healthy mindset. If you’d be willing to help John get into physical activities like yoga or some other exercise, that would help him a great deal.”

Your mother stares at Sharon for a moment. Understanding seems to dawn on her after a few moments. She looks back at you, her eyes wide like she doesn’t recognize the person she’s seeing.

“What a minute. You actually want to get in shape and turn your life around?” your mother asks disbelievingly.

You shrug and nod.

“Definitely.”

Mom still looks suspicious. She crosses her arms beneath her breasts, pushing them upwards. The sweater she’s wearing strains against her bust, but again it comports itself admirably by not tearing itself apart under the pressure.

“Have you started applying to colleges? Have you looked for a job?” she asks tentatively.

“No to the first question. Yes, to the second one. I’m actually going to have some money coming in soon, so if you want I can start paying rent until I get my own place.”

Your mother blinks.

“Are you serious?” a bit of surprise bleeds into her voice. “What’s the job? When do you start? How much money are you going to be making?”

Her questions are rapid-fire, one bleeding into the next.

You shake your head and put your hands on the side of her arms. She moans softly at your touch as you gently massage her arms with your fingers.

“Mom, relax. I’d rather not talk about what I’m doing yet as it’s not a completely sure thing I’m getting hired. Please, Mommy, just give me a week or so before you ask me any questions about my job.”

Mom’s eyes sparkle, her face immediately relaxing.

“Okay, honey. I’ll let you off the hook for a week,” she says serenely. She’s fully smiling now. She looks almost blissful.

Sharon watches the entire exchange with a fond smile of her own.

After a moment, Mom’s eyes regain their usual intensity.

“But after that, I’m going to expect a lot of information from you, mister. And I want you to apply to a college. That’s the only way you’re going to be able to build a real future for yourself!” she tilts her head upwards and purses her lips together authoritatively.

She actually looks incredibly cute. Why’d she ever settle for a rowdy drunk like your father?

You nod.

“You got it, Mom. I’ll be working and in school again. I’ll finally be out of your hair.”

Mom shakes her head.

“I suppose so,” she muses. “You’re welcome to stay here, though, if you need to. In fact, I’d prefer it. While it’d be nice to see you get out there on your own, it still seems like you need someone to push you to do something with your life.”

“Someone like you?” you venture, though it’s not even really a question.

“Who else is going to help shape you into a man?” she says, her eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction. Normally, you’d be irritated at her naked pride and stifling smugness, but for some reason you aren’t now. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve grown since you arrived in this new world; you’ve finally lost your virginity, gotten a girlfriend, and found out what life could be like outside the home. Or perhaps it’s the knowledge that at any moment, you could get her to do anything you wanted. That for all of her pride and authority, she’d essentially be a **** to your will and shall become even more so as the days progress and you influence her under her hypnotic trances.

You smile.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it, Mom,” you lower your hands to her hips, brushing past her breasts as you do so.

She actually blushes.

“W-well, it’s nice to know you’ve finally accepted that I know what’s best for you. I’m your mother. I’ve cared for you since the day you were born. If anyone’s going to push you that final step into becoming a man, it’ll be me,” she looks around the room. Her eyes widen as if she’s suddenly remembered Sharon is there, too.

As if sensing Mom’s trepidation, Sharon begins to speak, “That’s exactly what a mother should do at the end of the day. I have so many patients whose parents have either neglected or abused them, and it damaged their ability to build a positive life for themselves. It hurts me to know that they could have had much happier lives if their parents had cared enough to push them to succeed. I admire you, Linda. John's very lucky to have you looking out for him.”

“Oh, thank you so much. That’s so nice of you to say,” Mom soaks up Sharon’s compliment like a sunbather on the beach. You’re struck by how similar she and Tiffany are in that way, thanks to your manipulation. You hadn’t really intended that when you’d manipulated your sister, but now it seems both of them are incredibly susceptible to flattery.

“I’m just telling it like I see it.” Your girlfriend responds, a happy grin plastered on her face. She seems totally in her element talking to people, and can’t help but envy and admire her for that.

Mom laughs.

“Well, I appreciate it. I’m really glad you decided to stick around when you dropped John off. Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner tonight?”

Sharon’s eyes meet yours.

You shake your head slightly. While it’d be nice to have Sharon over for dinner, it wouldn’t exactly be conducive to furthering your influence over anyone since Dad would be there.

She looks back at your mother.

“I can’t, unfortunately. I made other plans. Raincheck?”

Mom smiles sadly.

“Sure. Again, please let me know the next time you’re free. I promise you’ll love my cooking.” She says.

Sharon smirks.

“If it’s anything like I remember, I know I will. So,” she claps her hands together. “I think we got a little sidetracked. John was talking about how he wanted to get himself in shape. I personally think it’d be great for both of you if you helped him.”

Mom snorts. The fond gaze she’d been leveling at Sharon since the compliment switches over to you, and becomes decidedly less fond, though her blue eyes didn’t seem as piercing and all-seeing as they usually did.

“Yes, we did get a little off topic, didn’t we?” she pauses to look around the basement again before meeting your eyes. “Fine. I can help you through exercise routines and maybe some yoga if you’re okay with it. I always thought yoga was more of a female-centric thing, but if you want to learn, you want to learn.”

Her acquiescence makes you smile. You didn’t even need to invoke her trigger. Your mind is soon dominated by images of your mother in tight sports bras and yoga pants. You’d watched her down here for a long time, so nervous about being discovered your heart practically migrated into your throat. Now, you get to watch her up close and personal as the bends and stretches that amazing body of hers. You’ll get to touch her, too. Thanks to your commands and her trigger, few things are off-limits to you now.

“Thanks, Mom. I think I really want to learn how to do yoga. I’ve seen videos of people doing it before and it looks so relaxing. Please, Mommy, can you teach me today?”

Mom’s eyes glaze over for a few moments before her lips twitch into a dazed smile.

“Of course, honey. I’d love to,” she says in a far-off voice. “I’ll go upstairs and get changed.”

She takes a step towards the stairs, and then blinks.

“Oh, Sharon. I’m so sorry,” Mom bites her lip.

Sharon waves her off, seemingly nonplussed by Mom’s actions.

“Don’t worry about it, Linda. I have to go home right about now anyway, remember?”

Mom nods.

“That’s right. You did mention that.”

“Mhm. I’m going to head out now. I hope you and John have fun together. And John, remember: Jared should be home around six if you want to spend some time with him,” Sharon winks.

Pick me up at six.

You nod, message received. You share a quick look with Mom. She nods.

“We’ll walk you out,” she says.

The three of you make your way to the first floor. This time you’re behind both women so you get to watch both of their big asses sway and jiggle as they walk. One day, you’ll line the two of them up next to each other naked and make them bend over so you can explore their asses to heart’s content.

A minute or so later, you get to the front door. You and Sharon say your goodbyes, and she hugs you, pressing her soft breasts against you again.

She and Mom exchange quick pleasantries before Sharon opens the front door and makes her way to her car. You watch through the glass window next to the front door as she pulls out from your driveway and drives towards the end of your street. The late afternoon sun is orange, spraying rays of amber light that reflects off Sharon’s convertible, making it look like a distant shooting star. Finally, she turns at the end of the street, disappearing from sight.

You immediately feel a sense of loss at her absence. Strange. You’d only been reintroduced to her yesterday, but it feels like you’ve been together for much longer. You can’t really explain it, but you feel like there’s a connection between the two of you; something stronger than the amount of time you’ve spent together should have allowed for. It’s like with Sharon around, you feel more secure like someone has your back. You already miss the feeling and you’re looking forward to experiencing it again when you meet her for your date later.

A hand touches your shoulder.

“Mom,” you turn to face her, and are immediately struck by her closeness to you. Your faces are mere inches apart.

She smiles.

“If I’m going to help you learn yoga, you should get changed. Wear something light that you can stretch in and you don’t mind sweating in,” she says.

Nodding, you reply, “Sure, I’ll do that. Are gym shorts and a t-shirt okay?”

“That should be fine,” Mom replies. She gives your shoulder one final squeeze. “Well, I’m off to go get changed. If you see your father, tell him I’m helping you in the basement.”

She turns away from you and begins walking up the stairs. Your eyes follow her big fat ass, deliciously outlined by her tight jeans.

You follow after her, the wooden steps creaking beneath you as you ascend the stairs. Mom enters the master bedroom and shuts the door with a loud thud. You briefly ponder entering and watching her change, but decide against it.

You walk past your sister’s room. Her door is shut as well, and you hear a faint rhythm of music pulsing its way through the door. Your manhood hardens why you remember her offer; to enter her room whenever you want to do things with her. How many brothers could say that they had an open invitation to do sexual things with their hot older sister?

There are still so many things you’d like to do with Tiffany that you haven’t yet. You just wish the house weren’t so populated right now or you’d barge into her room and have your way with her. You bite your lip, only barely restraining yours from opening her door.

Instead, you go to your room and change into a pair of old, black gym shorts and a logo-less blue t-shirt. You exit your room to find the door to the master bedroom still shut. You make your way downstairs and nearly collide with your father as he comes in from the dining room.

“Oh. Hey,” your father greets you, his voice somewhat subdued. You wonder if he feels guilty about calling you a loser or if he’s just ashamed you overheard him. “Did Sharon head out?”

“Yeah, we just finished our little talk,” you keep your voice calm. “Oh, Mom wanted me to tell you that we’re going to be doing exercises in the basement for a little bit.”

Your father raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm. I’m trying to get my life together. Part of that is getting into shape. Mom offered to help me.”

She’ll be doing a lot more than helping you learn yoga, that’s for sure. Your cock is throbbing almost painfully and Mom’ll definitely be taking care of that with her tits or ass. Or maybe you’ll finally fuck her. Which reminds you.

“She also said she’d be really, really mad if you interrupted us. She might even make you sleep on the couch.”

Dad chuckles, but you catch a flicker of nervousness in his gaze. He clenches his fists.

“Oh, I guess I’d better avoid going down there, then,” he says. “So you want to get your life together, huh?”

This question again.

“That’s right,” you reply. “I’ve even gotten a job, by the way, so I should have money coming soon.”

He smiles.

“Good, I knew you had it in you,” he pats your shoulder in a way that feels incredibly patronizing.

Did you now, Dad?

“So what’s the job? You bussing tables or something?” he says gruffly, an amused smile on his face.

“It’s more of a consulting thing. Believe it or not, I’ve spent a lot of my time up in the room learning skills and such. It’s amazing what you can do with an internet connection. I might not even need to go to college.”

He blinks, eyeing you skeptically. He doesn’t believe you, but he seems willing to humor you at least until you inevitably get caught lying. He’s going to be in for a shock when you show him the money generously “donated” to you by women like Sharon and Marissa. You make a mental note to ask them if they know any particularly which women who happen to have kids. While Marissa and Sharon certainly wouldn’t mind handing you their hard-earned money, you kind of like the idea of having a sugar momma to essentially set you up for life. Maybe if you find a wealthy business owner mom, you could get her to give you a do-nothing job, allowing you to collect a paycheck and seem legitimate to the outside world.

“That’s great, but remember your mom’s pretty set on you going to school. It’ll have to be some amazing consulting gig that gets her to lay off on that front,” he looks like he wants to laugh, like the idea of you crashing and burning is funny to him. You feel a surge of anger inside you that only barely manage to clamp down on.

You **** yourself to smile at him.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, hoping he’ll just leave.

The conversation falls into an awkward silence.

Dad nods after a few moments.

“Well, I think the game’s going to be on soon. Have fun downstairs and try not to upset your mother.”

“You got it, Dad,” you reply, effectively masking the bitterness you feel. You vaguely remember spending a lot of time together when you were younger and enjoying it. What had happened to drive the two of you apart? Where had that bond gone?

He walks down the hallway and turns left when he enters the kitchen. Soon, you hear voices of men talking about the Chiefs offensive line.

With nothing to do and Mom likely almost done changing, you decide to make your way to the basement. You leave the door open behind you and make your way to a leather chair situated against the wall. It faces a flat-screen TV that’s smaller than the one in the living room. You’d used to play console games on it before Mom had commandeered it for her use in yoga training or entertainment during her exercises.

After a few minutes of browsing the internet on your phone, you hear the basement door shut. You get up from the chair just in time to see your mother descend the stairs. She’s wearing a tight maroon sports bra that shows off her toned stomach. It seems to barely contain her breasts. The tops of her pale titflesh are practically squished upwards. She’s also wearing black exercise shorts that cling to her thick thighs and wide hips like a second skin. You get a glimpse of cameltoe between her legs. Is she even wearing panties? Shit, she isn’t, is she? Is she even aware of how fucking sexy she looks?

She’s holding a plastic bottle of water. She uncaps it and tilts her head up to take a short swig. She wipes her mouth, but misses a few drops on her chin. They trickle down her skin, dribbling down her neck before disappearing into her cleavage.

You subconsciously put your hands in front of your groin to hide your throbbing erection.

“Hey,” she says. “Are you ready to get started?”

You gulp and nod.

“Y-yeah, definitely. So, what should we do first?”

Mom makes her way to the exercise mat. She bends down in front of you to set her water bottle on the floor, incidentally jutting her ass upward towards you. The material of her shorts is sucked into her asscrack, emphasizing the shape of her large, plump ass.

“First,” she stands up again, to your chagrin, and turns to face you. “We need to do stretches. It’s very important that you stretch before exercising because it lowers the likelihood of you pulling something and hurting yourself.”

“Okay,” you say numbly.

“It’s really easy. Watch this,” she bends over and stretches her arms downward. They squeeze her breasts outwards, exposing more of her titflesh and nearly popping them from her sports bra. You get a glimpse of her areola. “See how I’m touching my toes with my fingers?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I want you to do the same thing. Go on. Just copy me.”

You do as she says. It’s surprisingly difficult to reach your feet, and you feel a burning pain in your back.

“Huh. I can’t seem to touch my toes.”

“That’s okay. Stand back up,” your mother commands. Her blue eyes seem to analyze you. “It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly, trying not to make it obvious that you’re staring at her tits.

“I said it’s okay,” she sounds a little annoyed now, but masks it quickly. “Okay, for this next stretch I want you to plant your feet far apart and bend your knees, shifting your weight back and forth between your left and right legs. Let me show you.”

She turns around, presenting you with her back side. Puts her hands on her left knee and begins stretching. Your eyes are practically glued to her ass, nearly mesmerized by the way it wobbles when she shifts her weight to right side and stretches that leg, too.

“Hey, Mom. Don’t you think it’d help if I moved up against you and used your movements to sort of… get the right idea of how to do these stretches?”

She looks at you over her shoulder and you quickly avert your eyes from her plump derriere.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

You roll your eyes and walk up to her, pressing your chest into her back. You encircle your arms around her exposed midriff, pressing yourself into her body. Your rock-hard erection pokes her left asscheek.

Mom moans.

“I-I don’t think this is appropriate,” she says.

“Why not?” you begin massaging her tummy. You move your hands upwards and begin teasing at the edge of her sports bra.

“It just isn’t. Okay?” she replies gruffly.

“But I came on your boobs, earlier. Why’s that okay, but this isn’t?”

She doesn’t respond, so you press on. Your clothed cockhead finds its way between her asscheeks, and for her sharp intake of breath, you know she notices it.

“I kissed you at the mall, Mom. It wasn’t the sort of kiss a mother and son should share. Did you enjoy it?”

“Don’t be absurd,” she grits her teeth. “It was just a harmless peck on the lips. A lot of mothers do that with their children by accident sometimes. It happens.”

“Moms and their sons regularly engage in full-on make-out sessions accidentally? That’s an interesting rationalization, Mom.”

Your hands drift upwards, sliding beneath the bottom of her sports bra.

“S-stop!” she shoves you back. Her sapphire eyes glare at you. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’ve had enough. Go to your room.”

“No,” you say flatly.

Her eyes widen.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, ‘Please, Mommy, forget about being mad at me just now and let me touch you anywhere I want however I want while you teach me how to do yoga.’”

Mom’s eyes glaze over and all of the challenge and authority within them is snuffed out instantly.

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