[All characters in this story are aged 18 or over at the time of the action. This story contains elements of BDSM, fetish and incest; and if you don't like these ideas, please read no further.]
I stood by the window and anxiously waited for my Queen, my stepmother Elizabeth to come home. Today was a special day because it was her fiftieth birthday. I was looking forward to her finally coming back from work, then I would give her flowers and a gift, we would have dinner together and spend a nice evening.
I grew up without a father because he died when I was just a few years old. I never remembered my biological mother. She renounced us shortly after I was born and left us alone. My father soon met Elizabeth, they married, and she adopted me as her stepson. After my father's death, as far as I remember, my stepmother never tried to have a permanent relationship with any other man. Even though she always showed me tenderness and emphasized at every step that she loved me very much, she was very principled towards me, and sometimes even strict. She kept me on a short leash in raising me.
I was now standing by the window, waiting for her. From what she told me on the phone some time ago, she should be here by now. But... whatever... Elizabeth is a wonderful woman and has the right to manage her time as she sees fit, not me. I have nothing to say here. I just have to obey.
I looked at the bouquet of flowers I held in my left hand. I put it to my nose. It smelled lovely. I corrected the position of the riding crop pinned between the flower stems. The black whip stood out standing upright against the other colors of the flowers. Besides, there was nothing black in the bouquet. The riding crop was supposed to be a gift for Elizbeth on her fiftieth birthday. In my right hand I held a medium-sized package with an extra gift for her.
While waiting at the window for my stepmother's arrival, I looked at the riding crop again and gave myself up to daydreaming. I wonder if she will like the gift and if she will understand why I bought it for her. Will she give me corporal punishment for the first time in my life? Will I taste the beating from her new whip today? Will my stepmother show her other face as a strict sadist and take it out on me today?
Finally, her luxurious white car arrived, which I personally wash thoroughly at least once a week. I was getting myself all right while my Queen got out of the car. She looked so pretty as usual. She was almost entirely dressed in high-quality leather clothing. She was wearing a white leather jacket, a knee-length black nappa leather skirt and a thin white turtleneck underneath the jacket. On her head she had a tasteful black women's hat, of course also made of leather.
On her feet she wore black knee high boots with high heels. Beige stockings were visible between the edge of the top of the boots and the bottom of the skirt. She had black leather driving gloves on her hands. My stepmother loved wearing boots and gloves. She often walked around the house spontaneously in them, which turned me on very much and to this day it is my fetish and to this day she knows nothing about my fondness.
Finally, when she entered the house, I quickly ran up to her like a puppy to make wishes for her.
"Happy birthday mommy."
"Oh, Jack, thank you, my dear son, for remembering," stepmother, confident, straight, smiling, gave me her black gloved palm to kiss. I placed the gift package on the dresser next to us for a moment to take her divine hand gently and kiss it.
"Come on, give me a kiss and cuddle with your old fifty-year-old mother," she said and grabbed me by my shoulders with her leather gloved hands and pulled me closer to her, then I kissed her on both cheeks. She must have leaned towards me because she was half a head taller than me in her splendid high heeled boots. I felt her large sexy breasts, swooping in a thin turtleneck, gently rubbing against my chest, colliding with it.
"Come on, mom," I said, kissing her cheeks. "You can't just say that you're that old. On the contrary, you look amazing," I then took her gloved palm again and kissed it tenderly.
"Oh, honey, you haven't changed for the worse with age. You're still so nice and gallant. Those compliments, kissing my hands. It's obvious that my contribution to raising you over so many years was not wasted. Was it?" she said, lifting and pinching my chin and looking down at me slightly.
"As usual, you're right, mom, it's all your merit. Thank you for these twenty years of raising me with your firm hand," I said, kissing her hand for the third time.
"Yes, exactly. I'm glad you agree with me. My firm hand was useful to you, wasn't it? It was good for you. I raised you to be a decent, cultured and obedient man that every woman can dream of," she said, stroking my cheek with her black gloved hand, and then immediately turned her gaze to the bouquet that I was still holding in my left hand, "Oh, what lovely flowers! Are these for me?"
"Oh yes, I'm such a numpty, I'm sorry, I completely forgot to give you one, but these are for you. Here, they're for you, mom," I handed her the bouquet.
"It's okay, mommy isn't angry with her little numpty anymore," she said, stroking my cheek again with her gloved hand, and then put the buds to her nose. "Uhhhm, they smell so nice. Ooo, I see you have something else for mom! Something black got tangled in that beautiful bouquet," my stepmother touched her gloved hand to the tip of the riding crop. "Whip?" She asked, smiling at me.
"Oh, yes. It's basically a riding crop."
"I know, I know, my dear, what is the name of this tool for encouraging lazy horses. After all, you know that I ride horses actively. Well, I must admit, my dear, that it is an interesting choice for a birthday gift for your mother. Please hold the flowers and I'll take it out, okay? I'd like to look at it in all its glory."
I took the bouquet back and my stepmother grabbed the end of the riding crop with her gloved hand and pulled it out. She began to admire it, examining it in detail from every angle.
"So? Do you like it a little?" I asked shyly.
"Hmmm, it's superb," she replied with delight, before bending it into an arc, then swinging it and whizzing it through the air a few times. "Well, I think I'll definitely use it for the right purposes, and more than once," she said, smiling at me.
"Oh, and what's that package on the dresser," she asked, pointing to it with the whip she held in her hand.
"Oh, here's another gift for you. See, I forgot about it," I replied sheepishly, taking the package from the dresser and handing it to her.
"Really? Is this for me? Another gift? Oh baby, you've given me so many gifts today. How can I repay you for all this?" Mom took the package in her hand and kissed me on the cheek. "You're sweet."
"Thanks mom. I hope you like it like a whip."