This is a taboo fictional story about incest and will contain hardcore BDSM scenes (Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism). It is NOT a love story between mother and son but a story about domination and complete control of a son over his mother. If these things offend you or you don't enjoy please don't read the story. All characters are over 18 and fictional and this is only fantasy.
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Camille St. Croix looked at herself in the full length mirror in her large vanity room in her master bedroom of her historical mansion south of Broad Street in Charleston South Carolina. Anybody who was anybody in Charleston lived South of Broad. She looked at herself in the mirror to give her one final look at her appearance; while not a vain woman she wanted to look nice for her blind date. She started her gaze from her head to her legs and frowned. At 44 Camille was generally happy with her looks until she came to her hips and waist. At 44 she was still a very attractive woman, looked about five to six years younger than her age; her black hair was full and wavy and came down just to the middle of her back, her alabaster complexion, a complexion prized by women of her social class, was smooth and blemish free, her breasts were 32b cup and perfect for her five foot one inch height, Camille's waist was once seventeen inches in her youth but having two children and age increased it but she was still proud of it being only twenty inches at 44 years old.
The only thing age and children caught up with her body was her hips and butt. Not to say they were fat, her butt was still firm but bigger than it was in her youth and wider. She thought it looked odd on her petite figure but she really never noticed the men who would smile at her ass when she walked by. For whatever reason she only gained weight in her butt and hips and no matter how much she worked out in her gym she could not lose the weight there just make it tighter and not saggy. Camille St. Croix frowned at her reflection, what's that phrase? Junk in the trunk...well I have that, she thought. Tonight she choose to wear a conservative, sleeveless navy blue, fitted flare dress with a white prim school girl collar with a white bid around the neck. The hem of the dress came to her knees. It was a simple modest yet stylish dress. All of Camille's dresses were modest yet stylish. She was very conservative did not like to advertise what she had. She did decide on navy blue tinted thigh highs, not due to the sexiness of thigh highs but the fact she hated panty hose. Overall she was pleased with her looks and her outfit she choose for her date.
Camille was going on her first date in five years. It had been that long since her husband died in a boating accident on the Ashley River and she has not dated or even been with another man sexually since then; actually her husband was the only man the 44 year old had ever been with sexually. Camille was a "good girl" and had been her entire life and a virgin on her honeymoon night when she was married at twenty years of age.
Both Camille and her husband belonged to socially prominent families in Charleston who were members of the Old South aristocracy that can still be found in a few cities throughout the southern states; cities like New Orleans, Richmond, Savannah, and of course the most notable (at least according to Charlestonians) the Low Country city of Charleston. Now being a southern aristocrat does not mean being rich by any means. It was not a matter of money that assured access to the charmed region of downtown Charleston; it was a matter of blood. The alloy of wealth and background was ideal, of course, but the past had proven testy and ungenerous in the treatment of some of the oldest, most celebrated families of Charleston. The descendants of planters often found themselves with back accounts of sewing machine salesman. But a modest income alone never denied access to those haughty parlors of the old beautiful historic homes; and wealth alone could never insure it. If you were crass and low born, or socially offensive, it would have made no difference to the proud inhabitants of Charleston High Society that you owned France; they would not invite you into their homes. But Camille and her husband's families did have money...lots of money.
Camille and her husband grew up together and had known each other since they were toddlers, her now deceased husband William was a year older than her. Both grew up in privileged and where Camille learned to be a prim and proper Southern Lady, William was raised to be a proper young gentleman. Both attended etiquette classes, cotillions, and introduced to "proper" Charleston Society at the all-important St. Cecelia's Ball. The two got married when she was twenty one and he was twenty two. They had two children, her oldest was her daughter Charlotte and three years later her son Alex was born.
Camille and William had a very happy marriage and a satisfying sex life which was very conservative. Their sexual positions consisted of missionary, her on top, and on occasion "doggie style". She gave her husband oral sex on their honeymoon but never did it after that since she really did not care for it that much and she did not let him finish in her mouth thinking that was just not only very disgusting but also very "white trash"; good girls of her social standing did not do those things and she felt the same way about being on the receiving end of oral sex. William did not seem to mind at all since he was just as conservative as she was when it came to sex. Then when Camille was thirty-nine her husband died in a boating accident on the Ashely River.
Naturally Camille was devastated emotionally at the loss of her husband but financially she was left extremely well off. Both her and William's parents had died years before and both being the only children and no other close family they inherited their family estates and in her husband's will he had set up trust funds for his children they were to receive when they were twenty one and he had left substantial wealth to his wife. Money was not lacking for Camille but his loss left an emotional void in her. Finally after five years her best friend talked her into going on a blind date and honestly she was not very excited about it.
Camille walked through the back yard garden of her home toward the guest house where her son Alex resided and she frowned. There were two other cars parked in the back driveway and she knew he had his friends over as well as his current girlfriend. Camille neither liked his friends nor the girl he was currently seeing and felt they were way below the standards of their social class. Her son Alex was her problem child. At nineteen she felt he had no direction in his life, attended classes at the local community college when he decided to go to class, his friends were crude and vulgar, and Alex was very disrespectful not only to her but to her friends and peers. The young man did not work and Camille paid for everything and let him live rent free in the guest house. He was the total opposite of her daughter Charlotte. Camille often felt Alex did not like her at all based on his actions and she had to admit to herself she was a little frightened of him. Alex could be very controlling and even a bully.
Camille knocked on the door to the guest house and it was answered by her son's friend James. James smiled at her but the older woman ignored him and pushed her way past him and walked into the one bedroom guest house. She saw Alex's other friend Mark sitting in a recliner playing a video game; cursing into the microphone of the headset her wore. She saw her son Alex on the couch with a girl straddling him and they were kissing with lust and passion as her son's hand ran up the back of her tee shirt. Camille frowned.
"Alex...ALEX!" She said and got her son's attention.
"What?" He said and pushed Stacy, his girlfriend off of him.
Alex was a very handsome young man who took after his father. He was tall, about six foot two inches, well built with an athletic swimmers type body, piercing blue eyes, naturally tan complexion and sandy blonde hair that he wore in a short hair style. Alex was movie star handsome; the type of good looks girls, women, and even some boys would stop and admire when he walked by or entered a room. Camille had even noticed her married friends "checking out" her son at times. He also was a "player" and changed girlfriends every two months or so and never faithful to the ones he dated.
Camille glanced at Stacy and while pretty with long red hair and a tall willowy figure but she was what the older woman would call white trash. She wore a pink tank top and no bra and had on a pair of very short jean shorts.
She turned her attention back to her son, "I am going out but should be back around ten or eleven at the latest."
Alex shrugged, "Oh yeah, your date." He then snickered, "If you are going to be back that early you must not expect a good date."
"Yeah, Mrs. St. Croix. You have a great body and you should use that scrumptious ass of yours often. I bet the men love it." Stacy giggled causing Alex and his friends to laugh.
Camille blushed but ignored the crude comment, "I just wanted you to know."
"Don't forget protection. I don't need a little sister or brother." Alex commented and smiled when his friends and girlfriend laughed. "Oh wait, I forgot you can't have any more kids so you can bareback."
"She's not that old, sweetie." Stacy commented to Alex.
"Oh it's not her age but medically she can't." Her son replied. They spoke about her as if she was not even in the room.
Camille embarrassed and humiliated by the way her son's white trash girlfriend and her own son was talking about her, turned to leave the house. She did not even know what "bareback" meant but she figured it had something to do with sex.
"Well, I would sure fuck her." She heard James comment as her hand touched the doorknob.
"Me too." Camille heard Stacy giggle as she opened the door.
"Well she needs it I am sure." She heard her own son say as she walked from the guest house.
Stacy climbed back onto Alex and wrapped her hands around his neck. "You are so mean to talk about your mother that way." She smiled.
"She's a snob." Alex responded and ran his hands up his girlfriend's bare legs. "She does need to get laid. Maybe then she would not be so bitchy about people who don't meet her so called social standings."
"Maybe she needs a good spanking." Mark spoke for the first time as he removed the headset.
"Uhhh...I would so spank her." Stacy giggled again.