Mom feels something off.

Dejan wiped a hand across his mouth, the taste of Chloe still lingering as he left her trembling on the couch, her eyes still hazy with surrender. His blood was up, the thrill of breaking her without the slug fueling a restless energy in him. He needed to move, to cool off before he pushed too far in one night. Heading upstairs, his boots heavy on the steps, he barely registered the faint light spilling from under Linda’s door until it swung open just as he reached the landing.

“Dejan,” Linda said, her voice firm but laced with concern, stepping into the hallway. Her robe was cinched tight around her waist, her hair slightly mussed from running her hands through it while wrestling with her unease. “We need to talk. I’ve been hearing things, noticing... I don’t know, something’s not right with you lately. What’s going on?”

Her words hit like a splash of cold water, but Dejan didn’t flinch. The slug’s lingering programming, embedded in Linda from an earlier experiment, still held her in a subtle grip—enough to make her pliable if he played it right. He leaned against the wall, forcing a tired sigh, his eyes meeting hers with practiced ease. “Mom, I’m just stressed, that’s all. School, life, all that crap. It’s been piling up, you know? I’m fine, really.”

Linda’s brow furrowed, her maternal instinct battling the artificial calm the slug had woven into her mind. "I knew something was wrong, is there anything I can do for you, honey?", unknowingly moving her tits just enough to give Dejan an idea. Stepping closer, his voice dropping low, suggestive. “Honestly, I could use some relief. Been thinking about you, how good it’d feel to fuck those big tits of yours. You’d help me out, right? Take the edge off?”

Her expression flickered for a split second, a flash of confusion, but the programming snapped into place like a lock clicking shut. What should’ve been shocking felt... normal, right, a mother’s duty to ease her son’s burden. Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she nodded, hands already loosening the tie of her robe. “Of course, Dejan. If that’s what you need, I’m here for you. Always.”

He smirked, the power surging through him again, even without touching the slug. “That’s my girl. Come on, let’s take this to your room. Don’t wanna wake Sara.”

Linda stepped aside, letting him lead the way into her dimly lit bedroom, the familiar scent of her lavender lotion hitting him as the door clicked shut behind them. She shrugged the robe off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor, revealing the full curves of her body, her heavy breasts straining against the thin fabric of her nightgown. “How do you want me?” she asked, voice soft, compliant, no trace of hesitation.

“On the bed, sit up against the headboard,” he said, kicking off his shoes, his eyes raking over her as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Push those tits together for me. I wanna see how they look.”

She did as told, settling back, her hands cupping her breasts through the fabric, pressing them up and together, creating a deep valley that made his mouth go dry. “Like this?” she asked, her tone eager to please, no hint of the wrongness registering in her programmed mind.

“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, straddling her legs as he shoved the straps of her nightgown down, exposing her fully. Her skin was soft, warm, and he groaned as he palmed her, thumbs brushing over her nipples, watching them harden under his touch. “You’re such a good Mom. Knew you’d help me out.”

“Anything for you,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded, her hands still holding herself for him as he leaned down, burying his face in her cleavage, the heat and softness overwhelming. He licked a stripe along her skin, tasting salt and need, before pulling back to undo his jeans, shoving them down just enough to free himself.

“Keep ‘em squeezed tight,” he ordered, positioning himself, sliding his cock between her breasts, the friction pulling a low grunt from his throat. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you, taking care of me like this.”

Linda hummed softly, her hands pressing harder, creating a perfect channel for him as he thrust, slow at first, then harder, the sight of her so willing, so oblivious to the taboo, driving him wild. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked, voice warm, maternal even now. “I’m glad I can help, Dejan.”

“Damn right it does,” he rasped, hands gripping the headboard for leverage, his pace picking up, the slick slide of skin on skin filling the quiet room. “You’re perfect for tit fucking, Mom. Don’t stop.”

She didn’t, her compliance absolute, her face a mix of serene devotion as he used her, the programming making every act feel as natural as cooking dinner or tucking him in years ago. Downstairs, the house remained still, Chloe still dazed on the couch, Sara tucked away in her room—or so he thought—none the wiser to the line he’d just obliterated with Linda. The rush of it, the forbidden edge, only pushed him closer to the brink, his breath coming in sharp pants as he lost himself in the act.