Tell Kelly to assist your Dad, but take your Mom upstairs.

You give Kelly a sympathetic look, having planned out what you want, at least for right now. “Kelly, can you assist my Dad with cleaning things up?” She nods her head, though does look a bit disappointed. That feeling hits you again, reminding you of how she is under your complete control, getting you even harder for what comes next. “Be sure to let him know that, until Mom and I come back into the kitchen, we’re not to be disturbed, not for anything.”

From the way you word it, it’s clear to Kelly that the order also applies to her, but she doesn’t say a word against the idea. After all, she can’t. She’s yours. Kelly nods her head and moves over to talk to your Dad. That done, you look over at your Mom, who only has eyes for you now. She’s looking at you like she always has, as her darling boy, but you wonder if that will survive what’s coming up. “So, it’s going to be just you and me then?” she asks. “Where are we going, Ryan?”

You know that, if you wanted to, she could be calling you ‘Master’ or ‘Owner’ or really anything you want her to. But that’s not your goal right now. Plus, there’s something about hearing her say your name. Your Mother, your Father’s wife, calling you by your name, like she’s how she used to be, like she doesn’t still belong to you, even as she does. “We’re heading up to your bedroom,” you tell her, and if she sees anything odd about it, she doesn’t show it.

Mom heads up the stairs, and you follow her. Your parent’s bedroom is at the end of the hallway on the second floor, on the left. She opens the door for you, and you walk inside ahead of her. The furnishings of the room are immaculate, as always. Your Mom isn’t exactly a clean freak, but she’s always made sure her room is well-kept and looking perfect. Messing that up has always been the one thing that would make her mad at you. As soon as you’re both inside, and the door closes behind Mom, you walk over to her dresser, open up the underwear drawer, and grab handfuls of her panties, throwing them all over the room.

Normally, doing something like that would make your Mom incredibly cross with you. A glare at the very least, but almost certainly accompanied by some shouting and being grounded. But as you turn to look over at your Mom, she’s watching what you’re doing without seeming to care. You raise an eyebrow. “You don’t have a problem with this, Mom?”

The question actually makes her laugh. “Maybe it would have earlier, Ryan, but you own me now. That means everything I used to own is yours too. If you want to scatter all that underwear, that’s okay.” Hearing her say that just makes you harder.

“Well then,” you say, smiling, “Would you be upset if I trashed this room?” She shakes her head. “Because I own you?” She nods. “Good. I’m glad I understand that better now, Mom. Why don’t you clean these all up for me?” You flop onto the King-sized bed, ruffling the comforter in the process, and watch as your Mom starts to pick up all the underwear you’ve scattered about. A new thought occurs to you, and you ask her, “What’s your favorite pair of underwear, Mom? Show it to me.”

As she’s gathering them up, she holds up a plain yellow pair, one that looks well used. “Oh, these are easily my favorite. They’re so comfortable, I wear them at least two days a week.” This is the kind of private information you’d normally never hear from your Mother.

But you’re not going to stop there. “What’s the raciest, sexiest pair of underwear you own, Mom?” She holds up a very different pair, one made of lace, with gaps large enough that you know you’d be able to see quite a bit of the body underneath if she was wearing it. It still had the tags on it. “Present from Dad?” She nodded in the affirmative. “Well guess what, Mom? That’s your favorite pair of underwear now. You’ll wear it just as often as you used to wear the yellow ones, which you’re going to throw away now.”

This is the first time you’ve really pushed the sexual boundary between your Mother and you, but if she notices, it doesn’t show. “Okay, Ryan,” she says, looking a little sad. “I’m yours, so I have to do what you tell me. I didn’t wear them at first because they were uncomfortable, but if you say they’re my favorite now, I guess they’ll have to be.” Soon, she’s done putting away all the underwear, and you’re ready for the next step in your fun.