Maataa's Duties

This story uses the formal and respectful Hindi terms for mother and father, maataaji and pitaaji, as well as beta, for their eighteen year old son, to add an Indian element to my writing due to the awe-inspiring influence of my Indian Dom. I am his submissive and submitting this story by his command and for his pleasure. Please comment, constructive criticism is welcomed so that I continue to improve my writing.

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Kneeling beside the bath she sponged her eighteen year old son's back in small circular motions leaving swirls of white bubbles across his dark skin. He carried the same colour as his Indian father, a beautiful rich chocolate brown, her pale caucasian genetics fortunately having not diluted the pigment one iota. Dunking the sponge between his legs she was reminded how uncomfortable she felt being in the presence of her naked son now he was in his late teens. He was as tall as his father and equally handsome, though more athletic as his father had been when he was younger. The boy's uncut penis bobbed about in the water rising through the bubbles as her motion created ripples. Her stomach lurched at the sight, it was no longer a boy's penis but a young man's. Swallowing hard she averted her eyes as she tried to disassociate her emotions from the task at hand.

Under different circumstances she would have insisted that a teenage boy bathe himself, but these weren't ordinary circumstances. She abided by his father's wishes, that she would continue to bathe him as she had when he was a babe in arms until otherwise instructed. She couldn't even surreptitiously avoid the more intimate cleansing, or suggest to Amit that he could wash himself, as his father frequently stood at the door behind her to talk to their son about his day. Occasionally he would even ask if Maataaji had cleaned him thoroughly, emphasising to Amit the necessary diligence of ones hygiene and health. Other times Pitaa would address her directly, expressing what a handsome young man Beta had become, making her look at him as she washed his genitalia.

This wasn't about Amit though. This was about the control that the proud Indian father had over his otherwise extroverted English rose. Pushing her beyond her boundaries at his leisure, he scrutinised her behaviour, enjoying how she ricocheted between the shame of humiliation and the pleasure of arousal when he suggested particular scenarios to her. The conflicting emotions she experienced magnified as he relentlessly sort her subsequent thoughts. The very nature of pushing boundaries invariably created de-sensitivity necessitating greater creativity to keep the intensity fuelled. But bathing their son naturally became more and more intense as time progressed.

The boy had often come into the bathroom when she assisted his father. When the boy was younger Pitaaji would pick Amit up and sit him on his lap while she scrubbed his back, praising Maataaji for her endeavours. He purposely made sure she washed both of them but required much more intimate attention from her when the boy wasn't around. He would stand with his feet spread, his back to her, and have her wash him slowly and purposefully, finishing with her mouth caressing between his buttocks, her tongue probing deep into his tight ring. After he would have her kneel at his feet, his fingers roughly tangled in her hair, forcing her to look up at him, to acknowledge how little she had aroused him, until she begged to please him and suck his cock.

Soaping the sponge she rubbed the Amit's thighs, delaying the inevitable. Pitaaji stood close behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder, massaging it gently as she tensed and performed her duty.

"You must relax Maataaji or you may do the boy an injury being so stiff."

She knew he chose his words carefully, hearing the smile in his voice. She glanced up, to her peril, the back of her hand sliding against the Amit's testes. The colour rose up her neck and face, burning furiously as she mumbled her apologies and rinsed the soap off his legs.

"What are you doing Maataaji? Trying to excite him! I'm sure Amit would rather do that in the privacy of his room."

They both laughed as she pulled the plug and Amit stood and faced her waiting for the towel. Struggling to keep her eyes cast down and reach for the towel, Pitaaji held her in place so she could not move her face from being so close to her son's genitalia. His hand circled the nape of her neck applying gentle pressure.

"Maataaji, you were a little hasty in emptying the bath. You have not finished washing him thoroughly, has she Beta?"

"No Pitaaji." Amit's tone betrayed no interest in the exchange between his parents, the mounting sexual tension in his mother.

Their son had no reason to feel shame or embarrassment in front of his Maataaji as this was how it had always been with no exception. During every bath time Maataaji ensured he was thoroughly clean and healthy. Sometimes she would remind him in a matter-of-fact tone the signs he must look for in case of infection and discomfort. He viewed his mother's attention to the intimate areas of his body as a medical interest. In fact he was so comfortable in her presence that he had frequently asked Maataaji questions of a sexual nature when Pitaaji was absent. But Amit had noticed over time how embarrassed she became, averting her eyes and her cheeks burning a radiant pink. He would see relief in her expression when he asked something that she genuinely couldn't answer, and would suggest he left his further queries until his Pitaaji returned.

Maataaji felt her pulse race as she realised her folly. She now had no choice except to look up at her Beta's penis and prepare to wash it, gently pulling the foreskin back to clean it thoroughly. Her hands shook as she ran the water and sponged under his testes, between his legs and buttocks. With immense self-awareness she held his penis and stroked the sponge along it's length. She could feel it swelling and becoming firm in her palm.

"Have you learnt how to control your erection Beta?"

"Sometimes Pitaaji. And sometimes I have absolutely no control and it can be very embarrassing in public."

"What do you do then?"

"I go and find a private place and relieve it Pitaaji."

Like father like son, Maataa thought, Amit's erection now fully realised in her hand. Her thought processes lead her to imagine Pitaaji disappearing frequently to jerk off, as she had had the pleasure to witness on many occasions. She adored his cock, a darker brown, almost black, in comparison to his skin tone. As she thought about him stroking himself in front of her, the dark head protruding from his foreskin as he pulled it back, rubbing his fingertip through the pre-cum oozing out of the elliptical slit, she unconsciously licked her lips, her breathing quickening as she opened her mouth. She was brought back to her senses as Pitaaji tightened his grip and pulled on her hair.

"Maataaji, are you wanting to suck on Beta's cock?"

In her daydream she had unwittingly started stroking her son's cock. To her horror she realised that her pussy was moist and her body was alive with tingling electricity from her hyper-sensitive nipples down to her wet throbbing cunt. Her shame was not great enough to counter her arousal and her chest heaved as she considered what Pitaaji would now expect of her. Almost as an out-of-body experience she watched her hand stroking up and down Amit's dark shaft, a droplet of pre-cum forming. She could no longer distinguish her feelings for her son from those for the father, except that up until now, her eighteen year old son was untouched and as pure as the driven snow in her eyes.

"Pitaa ..." she started breathlessly. His hand held her fast as he waited patiently for her to form coherence. "Daddy" she said slowly "M-may I" She took several uneven breaths before continuing, battling with what she knew as right and wrong, and what she felt compelled to do, and was expected to ask. "Daddy may I suck Beta's beautiful cock?"

There was silence as she realised she had not asked correctly. She started to say please as Daddy's grip tightened in her hair, causing her to gasp. "Have we forgotten the most basic utterance of politeness in our lust for cock?" he asked with disdain.

"Please Daddy." she whispered hoarsely.

"Again." he said "Let's start again and look at me this time as you ask." The smile and heart melting sing-song lilt had gone from his voice.

She became oblivious to her surroundings as she raised her eyes to him, squirming under the intolerable pressure to state verbally and coherently what her deepest and darkest desires were compelling her to do. Despite her overt and extreme personality she never ceased to be amazed and be in awe of how he made her feel. She learnt in her time with him that her extroversion was purely a defence mechanism that shielded her from thinking too deeply about who she was. He made her stop and think. He made her think about why she did certain things. He made her think about what turned her on. And then he took it to another level. He made her dizzy with the intensity of thought. And he blew her mind with the arousal he invoked in her.

She leant into his hand holding her head, her eyes heavy lidded, her breathing rapid through her open lips. With his free hand he cupped her face, trailing two fingers down her cheek, resting them on her lower lip, before pushing them into her mouth. She swallowed and ran her tongue along the underside of his fingers as he spoke softly to her.

"Stay with me Maataaji." She was sinking into a trance, the sexual intensity overwhelming her. "Ask me again."

"Daddy, please may I suck Beta's beautiful cock? Please." She repeated breathlessly and dreamily as she lost herself in the dark pools of his eyes, barely aware of the words she spoke.

"Why?" He cooed at her, stroking her face. Her eyes widened at his further questioning, cruelly pulling her out of her trance. She opened her mouth but no sound was emitted and he raised his eye brows expectantly. She squirmed again. He ran his thumb along her lips. She became aware of her son's presence again as he stepped out of the bath. Her eyes darted from Pitaaji to his son fully conscious of the situation she was in, the choices she had and the now excruciating arousal she felt.

"Daddy, please may I suck Beta's beautiful cock," she faltered as she sort an appropriate response "because it's as beautiful as yours and I want to give him the pleasure that you allow me to give to you." He smiled at her attempt at rationalisation and futile appeasement and shook his head. First of all he rarely allowed her to give him a straight forward blow-job. He knew how she enjoyed the helplessness of face fucking. And she really should know better than to appease him by now.

"You really have lost all your manners Maataaji, making Beta wait like this. You are merely a filthy slut who can not help herself when the opportunity to suck cock arises."

"Yes Daddy." she breathed, her eyes instinctively dropping to the floor as the reality was spelt out to her.

"What are you?"

"I-I am a filthy slut who can not help myself when the opportunity to suck cock arises." Her face burned with shame.

"Go ahead. Do your best for our son."

She swallowed hard, her stomach lurching again as it did when she watched Beta's cock bobbing in the water earlier. Daddy had succeeded in bringing her back down to earth and she teetered between fully conscious shame over her perverse desires and the inevitable intense arousal. Her breath catching in her throat she turned to her grown son, despite the length of time he had waited, his erection was still proud and beautiful as he held it in his hand. Not daring to raise her eyes she could not read her son's reaction on his face. What she did know was that his body language did not reject her advances.

She knelt at his feet and without holding his almost fully erect cock she licked along the shaft, savouring the salty pre-cum smeared over the swollen head no longer encompassed by the foreskin. Within moments she immersed herself in giving pleasure, though it never escaped her that she was at the feet of her naked, dark skinned adonis son, sucking his cock in front of his equally handsome and dominating father. She held the base of his cock as she took it into her mouth, curling her fingers around the firm thickness. Opening her mouth she slid his cock onto her tongue, pulling the foreskin back to expose the sensitive ridge of the glans, and caressing it attentively as she slid it to the back of her throat. Pulling her head back she savoured the smoothness of the head, swirling her tongue around it before pushing it back down her throat. She was sure he kept getting harder and longer the further down her throat she took him and the faster she thrust his cock in her mouth.

When she heard his moans she felt relief and pride that she was pleasing him. Then she felt his hand at the back of her head and he tentatively attempted to control her movement. Her arousal grew more recognising the similar traits between father and son and she too started to moan. He thrust harder into her mouth and faster. She grew concerned she may hurt him and struggling to get air she tried to alter her position. He thrust harder, groaning, and she could not prevent saliva cascading out of her mouth and down her chin. She felt out of control, a mess, dirty, a filthy cock-sucking slut.

Suddenly he held her hard against him, tensing, her face buried in his tight curled black pubic hair, his cock deep down her throat. He pulled her head back and slowly pumped into her mouth as he moaned and grunted and shot his sweet cum in her mouth. Her hand rhythmically pumping his cock and the other massaging his balls, he emptied his precious seed down his Maataaji's throat. He was no stranger to this method of pleasure, but he never believed that he could have his mother at his feet relishing his cum.

There was silence when it was all over and Maataaji gathered her thoughts, battling with the shame she felt. Then slowly she arose and wrapped the towel around Beta's waist, concealing his spent cock, her eyes down cast. She walked ahead of him to his room and took a pair of boxer shorts from his drawer, handing then to him and clearly avoiding any eye contact.

"Maataaji, are you ashamed?"

"Yes Beta." she replied, her face lowered as he dropped the towel and put the shorts on.

"But Maataaji you did a beautiful thing for me. You gave me relief beyond my hand."

"But that is not what your Maataa should do!"

"What we do in our own house is not open to judgement Maataaji. If we are happy with what we do, me, you and Pitaaji then there is nothing wrong. We are not hurting anyone."

She looked up and held his face in her hands and smiled. "Life is so straight forward and simple for you. I wish I had a fraction of your perspective. My penance is my uncomfortable awareness of social expectation and the conflict with my desires. They do not exist to be corrected. If I was not who I am Pitaaji would have become bored with me a long time ago. I am alright Beta."

He hugged her. "Thank you Maataaji." He kissed her on her lips quickly and she immediately dropped her gaze again. He found it an attractive feature in her, the willingness to please and the embarrassment of such intimacy. "Goodnight Maataaji." She lifted her head and smiled.

"Good night my Beta."

As she left his room Pitaaji appeared at the doorway, and preventing Maataaji from walking away he said goodnight to his son. He held Maataaji around the waist as he closed the bedroom door and walked her to their bedroom.

"Undress." he said simply, watching her as she complied. Her clothes had gotten wet and crumpled whilst in the bathroom and stuck to her in places. The electricity in her body threatened to overwhelm her as she peeled her top away from her tight puckered nipples. He sat watching her intently when she finished sliding her skirt down her hips and stepped out of it, leaving her naked before him. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny dropping her head and holding her hands behind her back. He said nothing. Eventually she looked up wondering if there was something she had missed. He merely sat looking at her, from her eyes down the length of her body. She wanted to fill the silence and shifted her weight from one foot to the other contemplating what to say that would please him.

As she opened her mouth to speak he indicated for her to come closer. Standing before him, he slid his hand down the back of her leg, and spreading his legs wider apart gave her room to place her foot. As she was clearly trying to avoid contact he cupped the heel of her foot and forced her foot under him. She took a sharp intake of breath as she felt the heat of his balls and between his buttocks on the top of her foot, and began to comprehend what he wanted of her. She could feel herself becoming wetter as her pussy throbbed and her clit craved to be touched.

"Do you want me to rub myself?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"Is that what you want to do?"

She swallowed, trying to maintain coherence, desperately craving his touch, feeling horribly exposed and yet phenomenally aroused. She nervously licked her lips and dropped her gaze, only to look up again as she averted her eyes from her predicament.

"I-I" she stammered as her mind flitted through several conversation outcomes. "I-I want your touch Daddy. Please."

"Just my touch? Is that all I'm good for now, now you have tasted Beta?"

She shook her head, hating how he relentlessly dragged the reluctant truth out of her, spelt out clearly with no ambiguity. "I want you to fuck me. Daddy. Please." Coherence was fading fast with the reminder of earlier. "Please will you fuck me Daddy." she corrected herself.

He shook his head. "No. Not yet."

"I need to touch myself Daddy." she breathed, unsure whether she was mentally gyrating her hips, or really simulating the desire to fuck. "Please may I rub myself Daddy?"

"Yes." His eyes followed her hand as she slid her index and middle finger down onto her displayed pussy. She wanted so much more than her own two fingers pushing in and out of her overflowing cunt. Her juices dribbled into her hand and she took her fingers out to rub her hot engorged clit, moaning as the sensations shot deep inside, making her nipples ache to be sucked.

"Rub harder."

Plunging her fingers deep into her cunt again she rubbed harder and faster, her breathing short, her eyes almost closed.

"Stop!"

Her fingers stopped and she withdrew her hand, breathing hard as she struggled to find somewhere to lay her gaze, stopping at the opening of his shirt.

"It's getting late. You can go to bed now, go to sleep." He withdrew her foot from under him and she placed it unsteadily on the floor breathless and aghast at his abruptness. She dared to look at him as he rose from the bed making her step back. He did not return her gaze, merely starting to undress himself, unbuttoning his cuffs before revealing his chest. Her stunned silence drifted into a mesmerised trance as she watched him disrobe. His glance at her was a warning and she snapped out of her confused state, turning to get into bed. She had had enough excitement for one day. He was denying her any relief to remind her who was Dom. And she knew he would be enjoying her tormented thoughts.