Reya, are you sure of your choice?

The Collar and the Choice – A Mother’s Final Corruption

—Wednesday, 2:17 PM. The Master Bedroom—

The afternoon sun streamed through the half-drawn blinds, casting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets where Reya lay, her body still humming from the morning’s violations. Her wrists were sore from where Aslan had pinned them above her head, her thighs sticky with the evidence of his relentless possession.

She should have felt disgust.

She should have felt shame.

But all she felt was a gnawing, aching emptiness between her legs—an emptiness only her son’s cock could fill.

God, what was wrong with her?

The bedroom door creaked open, and Aslan stepped inside, his bare chest glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. In his hand, something glinted—a slender black leather collar, its silver buckle catching the light.

Reya’s breath hitched.

"No," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming his name.

Aslan smirked, his fingers trailing along the collar’s edge. "You keep saying that word," he mused, stepping closer. "But your body keeps saying yes."

He dropped the collar onto the bed beside her, the leather landing with a soft thump.

"Last chance, Mom," he murmured, his voice deceptively gentle. "Walk away now, and I’ll never touch you again. Stay…" His fingers brushed her bare shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. "And you’re mine."

Reya’s throat tightened.

She should leave.

She should run.

But her traitorous body ached, her nipples pebbling under his gaze, her cunt clenching around nothing.

Aslan’s smirk deepened.

He knew.

Of course he knew.

His fingers trailed down her chest, circling one stiff peak. "You need this," he murmured, his thumb flicking over her nipple. "You need me to ruin you. To own you."

Reya whimpered, her hips shifting restlessly.

"F-Fuck you," she breathed, but there was no heat in it.

Aslan chuckled, his hand sliding lower, his fingers dipping between her thighs.

"Already wet for me," he taunted, his fingers sliding through her slick folds. "You’re pathetic, Mom."

Reya’s nails dug into the sheets.

She was.

And the worst part?

She didn’t care.

The Collar

Aslan’s fingers hooked into the collar, lifting it with deliberate slowness.

"Kneel," he ordered, his low baritone laced with dark promise as the hypnotic leash took hold again.

"O-Ohmygod... Is he really going to? Shit..." A mental echo, dripping with corruption and lustful arousal. His mom's **** training was nearing completion.

Reya’s body moved before her mind could protest, the voluptuous slut's knees sinking into the mattress, her back straight, his mom's head bowed in submission.

Aslan’s breath hitched.

"Fuck," he muttered, his cock straining against his sweatpants. "You were made for this."

The collar settled around her throat, the leather cool against her flushed skin. The buckle clicked, the sound final.

Owned.

Reya’s pulse hammered, her cunt dripping.

Aslan’s fingers tangled in her hair, yanking her head back.

"Look at me, bitch" he growled.

Reya’s eyes fluttered open, meeting his darkened gaze.

"Say it," he demanded, his thumb brushing her swollen lips. "Say you’re mine."

Reya’s lips parted—

"I’m yours."

The words spilled out, soft and broken, but true.

Aslan’s grin was vicious.

"Good girl."

The Throat Training

Aslan’s cock slapped against her cheek, thick and heavy, the head glistening with precum.

"Open," he commanded.

Reya obeyed, her lips parting, her tongue darting out to lick the salty bead from his slit.

Aslan groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair.

"Fuck, Mom," he panted, his hips rolling, feeding her inch by inch. "Your mouth was made for this."

Reya gagged as he hit the back of her throat, her eyes watering, her nails digging into his thighs.

Aslan tutted, pulling back just enough to let her breathe.

"Relax," he soothed, his free hand massaging her throat. "Take it deep."

Reya whimpered, but her body listened, her throat opening as he pushed forward again.

This time, she took it—every inch, every throb, her nose pressed against his pelvis, her throat fluttering around him.

Aslan groaned, his hips jerking.

"Perfect," he praised, his voice rough. "Perfect fucking cocksleeve."

His fingers tightened in her hair, holding her in place as he fucked her throat, his cock pulsing with each brutal thrust.

Reya’s vision spotted, her body shaking, her resistance crumbling.

She was his.

Fully.

Completely.

And she loved it.

The Breeding

Aslan yanked her off his cock, her lips bruised, her throat raw.

"On your back," he ordered, his voice guttural.

Reya collapsed onto the mattress, her legs spreading automatically, her cunt dripping.

"W-Wait..."

Aslan growled, his hands gripping her thighs, yanking her to the edge of the bed.

"Mine," he snarled, his cock slamming into her with one brutal thrust.

Reya screamed, her back arching, her cunt clenching around him.

"A-Aslan—!"

"Say it," he demanded, his hips pounding into her, his balls slapping against her ass. "Say you’re my slut."

Reya’s nails raked down his back, her body burning.

"I’m your slut!" she sobbed, her voice breaking. "Yours, yours, YOURS—!"

Aslan roared, his cock pulsing, his cum flooding her womb in thick, endless spurts.

Reya convulsed, her orgasm ripping through her, the voluptuous milf's sinful body milking him dry.

Aslan collapsed atop her, his breath hot against her neck.

"Mine," he whispered again, his fingers tracing the collar around her throat.

Reya’s eyes fluttered shut.

Yes.

Forever.