Finding a Replacement
Before I start things, there is something I need to say. My late husband Howard was the most loving and caring man I had ever met. If he wasn't, we would not have remained happily married for almost twenty-five years. He was my friend, my confidante, my lover; and he was also my Master.
For those who don't understand the true meaning of being submissive; it's very hard to explain. I had grown up a conservative Jewish girl. Howard was four years my senior when we met through one of my father's law associates. I was a fresh high school graduate of eighteen, and he was a dashing doctor in the making at twenty-two.
Six months later we were married and my life changed. Howard knew my needs and desires greater than anyone, even me. That is the true relationship between a sub and their Master. He never once abused me, and I never was made to do something that deep inside I did not wish to do; it was Howard who knew those deep desires.
He gave me direction, love and life. That vanished when COVID claimed his life four months ago. Financially nothing changed; Howard had great life insurance, and we had spent two decades investing. He had also given me the confidence to start my own online business, which was doing fairly well with the COVID world.
No, my loss was deeper than that. It was the loss of direction, almost a loss of purpose that struck deep into me. Howard was more than my husband; he was my life. In nearly twenty-five years we had built a home, a medical practice, an online business, and a family; all together. The idea of moving onward alone terrified me.
Were it not for our two children I'm not sure where I would have been. Marcus, our oldest is twenty-two and works as an apprentice architect at a local firm. Our daughter Ruth is nineteen and in her senior year of high school.
Marcus was the image of his father, physically. At almost six feet and over two hundred pounds, he could be an imposing figure; especially when he was flanked by his mother and sister.
Howard often called us his two pixies; and for good reason. Both Ruth and I barely broke five feet; and I think I was the heavier at nearly a hundred and fifteen pounds. We both had long auburn hair that went half way down our backs; and as Howard called them; in the throes of passion, large brown doe eyes.
Many were the times people confused us for sisters rather than mother and daughter. I made special efforts to eat right and stay in shape; not for vanity; but for my husband. He loved his pixie, and I did everything I could to give that to him.
After Howard's death Ruth and Marcus spent more time at the house; I suspect as much for me as for themselves; but I wasn't one to argue. It was Marcus who apparently caught the first thought that something was different with mom.
After four months without direction, I was apparently switching my submission towards my children. A fact I did subconsciously, because I was never aware of it. It was later that Marcus told me how we would be sitting on the patio and he would mention he was thirsty; and before he could move I was out of my chair fetching him a drink. Or how Ruth would mention she was chilled in the evening air and I would immediately run to get her a sweater.
It was Marcus who first broached the subject of me dating; a topic I almost violently refused.
"You need to find a companion mom" Marcus told me.
"No one can replace your father" I replied sadly.
"Why? Because no one can tell you what you need?" he looked at me.
"Marcus, you are getting into dangerous territory" I said softly.
We were in the kitchen preparing the dinner plates and pouring wine; Ruth was on her cell phone out on the patio. Marcus looked out the glass doors at his sister, and then stepped beside me.
"You have beautiful breasts" his deep baritone caught me flat footed.
"Marcus" I gasped.
I couldn't help it; I instinctively looked down at my chest. I was wearing a pale pink blouse that was thin enough you could see the light tan bra underneath. Neither Ruth nor I have those huge breasts men seem to fawn over.
We both sport a nice pair of 34 B's; and I had always been proud of the fact that even almost fifty years old and I had kept my firmness. I turned and looked at him; he wasn't looking at me as he focused on pouring the wine.
"Go upstairs and take your bra off" he said without looking up from the glass he was filling.
"I'm your mother; you shouldn't ask..." I started to say, but Marcus' baritone cut me off.
"I didn't ask" he stopped pouring and turned to look at me. "I told you" he said calmly.
I just stood there frozen as he set down the bottle, and without another word; he picked up the glasses and headed for the patio door. I trembled as I heard his words; he hadn't asked, he had told me.
Something four months old, clicked deep inside me. I didn't have time to run up to the bedroom, so I stepped into the laundry room off the kitchen. Reaching behind my back I unsnapped my bra and pulled it through the sleeves of my blouse. As I tossed it into the laundry basket, I looked down.
Dear God, I could actually see my dark areoles through the thin fabric. Before I could second guess myself, I stepped back into the kitchen and picked up the three plates.
Walking out to the patio, I set Ruth's on the table in front of her. To this day I can't say why; but when I bent down to place his plate, I held for a moment in front of Marcus; letting him see down the opening of my blouse.
"They're beautiful" he whispered softly.
"Thank you" I said in a hushed voice; as a blush crept over my cheeks.
Before I could move, Marcus reached out and gripped my wrist. "Thank you what?" He let the words hang in the air as he stared into my eyes.
"Thank you...sir" I whispered in a hoarse voice.
God I barely made it back to my chair. My knees threatened to buckle; my panties were soaked; and my nipples felt like twin diamonds pressed against my blouse.
For the rest of the evening we chatted about Marcus and Ruth; through it all he said nothing more but I could see his eyes going to my blouse from time to time. I watched Ruth, to see if she was aware; but she gave no clue.
By the end of the evening, I walked Marcus to the front door while Ruth retreated to her room to finish her studies. Marcus leaned down and I felt a warm kiss on my cheek.
"Night sweetie" I said.
"Night mom" he smiled gently. "I think I'll come by tomorrow and clean the pool" he told me.
Clean the pool, why, we had someone doing that; I just stared at him. He turned to reach for the door knob, my mind whirling with confusion. Then, he turned and swept my feet out from under me.
"You can skip the bra and the panties" he said softly.
I looked into those piercing green eyes, and my heart skipped a beat. My entire body quivered as so many thoughts raced through my mind. But, only two words slipped out of my mouth.
"Yes sir" I whispered.
"Excellent" Marcus nodded.
I watched a smile crease his face and I felt a familiar warmth blossom deep inside me. He was happy, I had made him happy.
After he had left, I retreated to my own bedroom; and did something I hadn't done in ages. I masturbated; in a way no mother should. I pulled a toy from my closet I hadn't used in months; an eight inch long plastic phallus with a suction cup at the base. Starting a warm shower, I suctioned the fake cock to the wall.
Standing under the warm spray, I lay my hands along my lower back, imagining powerful hands holding them there; and then rammed myself onto that fake dick.
My ass slapped the wall through four tremendous orgasms as I saw Marcus taking me in ways only Howard had done. My juices flooded the shower floor as I pounded myself into submission for him. By the time I slipped my exhausted body into bed, my only yearning was that I didn't feel that hot seed filling my belly.
The next day I couldn't focus; I wandered the house aimless; even Ruth saw it. She asked me what was wrong but I gave some nonsense answer about the heat; while standing in an air conditioned house.
It was early afternoon when I went to my bedroom to change. Marcus would be arriving soon, and I needed to remove my panties and bra; strangely enough there was no question in my mind that I would do exactly what he told me too.
There was no guilt, no remorse; only the thrill in my core that I was doing this for him. What I didn't know, and should have; was that what one sibling knew, so did the other. Apparently Marcus and Ruth had been talking about my behavior for a few weeks. When Marcus had told his sister his theory, she had originally scoffed.
My bra move last night had shocked her; and instead of studying, she had spent the evening on the phone with her brother. The two of them began laying plans that would ultimately fill the void of my loving husband...with them.
I had removed my panties and bra, slipping back into my jeans and blouse. I opened my bedroom door to head back downstairs, and all but collided with Ruth.
"Oh "I gave out a surprised noise.
Ruth stood silent in the doorway, looking at me. Because she stood right in the doorway I couldn't leave, and when she started advancing on me, it forced me to retreat back into the bedroom.
"That won't do" she said as she looked me over again.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I was confused, what was she talking about?
"Stand there" Ruth said, and then stepped over to my closet.
"Ruth I..." I started to ask.
"Mother" her one word froze me. There was no hesitation, no second thought. It was a voice telling me, not asking. Like her brother had, she froze me to the spot.
Pulling out a hanger she turned to me. "Change" she said the single word.
I stared at the spaghetti strap tank top in her hand. Dear God no, I thought; my entire chest would be on display. The thing was pale blue, wafer thin; and tight. My chest wasn't huge, but even in that it would mold to my breasts.
"Ruth, you can't..." I started to protest.
"He can't appreciate them if he can't see them" she stated flatly.
