Mom's Post-Apocalyptic Debauchery

Hello friends,

As you guys may already be aware, my stories feature elements of Mom-Son cuckolding in a variety of scenarios (cheating mothers), betrayal, voyeurism, humiliation, transformation fetish, corruption, and moral degradation. So, if any of these are your thing, let's jump right in.

As per reader feedback, I will go to the extent of saying the mom in this story looks like the blonde MILF legend Julia Ann (just for enhancement of the mental imagery), but I have also noticed that my dear readers tend to visualize someone or the other while they read a story. So, feel free to choose your poison.

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The year 2035

It's hard to comprehend how fast the world has changed over the past few months. I still find it so hard to believe that all our lives had been perfectly normal, until about six months ago.

When the initial news of the viral outbreak hit the news channel, I remember the day like it was yesterday.

It was my 19th birthday. I was relaxing on the couch at our home, heartily savoring the blueberry muffins mom had specially baked for me that day. College was about to start and I was looking forward to it. Mom was in the kitchen, cooking up her special spaghetti with meatballs.

It was my first birthday since dad had passed away. And Mom, well, she looked truly happy after a long time.

My mother, Mrs. Diane Renshaw, was the perfect religious housewife. Like the "Saying prayer before eating food" kind of religious. She cooked for us, took care of the home while dad was away for work and I was at school and helped me with my homework. She made sure we attended the Church on Sundays. She ensured that I had a decent upbringing. She had always been fiercely protective of me and the family.

She also had a very high reputation in the neighborhood.

But her kind nature and motherly attitude never went well with the other guys at school.

Now, I am a very average kind of guy. As average as one can be. With no special interest in any kinds of sports, pimple-studded face, and love handles, I had no distinctive features to make the girls swoon all over me.

But what made me special was my mom. Standing at 5'8", she was very often referred to as the "Dream MILF" by people at my school. Even though she always wore conservative clothes, which exposed the minimum of her body, the boys never failed to gawk at her.

Her long luscious blonde hair came down in waves, you can get lost in her deep blue eyes. Her smile was of the most innocent and kindest ones. Her perfect sharp nose and beautiful jawline made her look like a benevolent queen.

My seniors and even some of my batchmates would intentionally attend Sunday Mass just to look at her. They would hang around our house for some extra time even after school hours, pretending to play with me. But their ulterior motive was seeing Mom in any kind of risqué clothing.

Unfortunately for them, Mom always maintained courtesy and never gave them what they wanted so badly. She always gave an affectionate smile and baked for them now and then, but would never entertain them.

Now, this has instilled in me a fetish for my Mom since like... forever. I would sneak in the washroom and probe into her dirty linens, looking for her discarded underwear.

Her size was 36D-24-37. Perfectly well proportioned. Even though I would have given anything to see her naked, yet I never got that sweet chance. Instead, I lay in my bed imagining my mom's hot naked body and jerking off.

She had an extremely well-maintained figure, sometimes the clothes clung to her body, giving us a vague outline of her physique. But imagination can only go so far.

Now coming to the real story, our world turned upside down when dad suddenly died after a freak accident last year. It was hard, especially for mom.

She seemed to fumble with her faith.

She would spend hours sitting at the same place, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was as if she could not even imagine a life without him. She would kneel for hours in front of the crucifix, asking God why He had taken away the love of her life.

Even after Father Jonathan's repeated preachings to have faith in His judgment, she didn't seem to budge.

With the encouragement of a few of her friends, she joined a Support Group for grieving widows. Slowly she started to recover. I could now see that decision bearing fruits. Mom was in a state of bliss after a long while.

She still wore the silver cross on her neck though, but her faith seemed to have wavered.

But who knew our newfound happiness would be so short-lived.

I remember that fateful day, I was watching baseball and while I was skimming through the channels, I froze on the Primetime News.

The news headline caught my attention. It read, "Breaking News: Zombie Virus Outbreak in Japan".

Intrigued, I kept on listening. The reporter rambled on, "And in another story, there have been reports from Japan of a virus turning people into mindless flesh-eaters. Doctors say that infected people are initially showing signs of fever, headache, muscle ache, followed by marked aggression and violence. In the later stages, they are said to be reduced to mindless freaks. The Government is hastily trying to identify active cases and putting them into quarantine. Scientists are frantically trying to figure out how it is spreading and if there is a cure for this disease. But till now details are very unclear."

I shouted, "Hey mom, did you hear that? Looks like there is going to be a zombie apocalypse soon."

Mom chuckled jokingly, 'so, it seems like your lifelong dream is going to come true after all, Alex. Looking forward to bashing some zombie brains, are we sonny?"

Both of us broke out into laughter.

"Now come on, these meatballs are getting cold," she shouted. And I shut down the TV, thinking it to be another propaganda by the fake news army.

But I was so wrong.

Before we even knew it, the virus had spread like wildfire. With an almost 100% fatality rate and a secondary infectivity rate of over 95%, it reached the US within just one month.

Scientists and doctors all over the world did not even realize what had hit them.

Since the day the news first made headlines, the TVs and social media were active for hardly another 3 more weeks. After that, there was a worldwide blackout. It was almost like the Stone Age.

In the 3 weeks leading up to the global network blackout, we had bits and pieces of information about the Virus.

It had originated in a highly clandestine laboratory in Japan, with the code name X-24. The virus was still in its early developmental stage. Somehow, it had contaminated the laboratory despite maintaining the highest standards of Biosafety Levels, and very soon it had leaked and infected almost half the population of Tokyo within one day.

The Japanese had originally intended to use the virus for military purposes. Their sole aim was to take over the minds of their soldiers to turn them into mindless killing machines without a moral compass. Less PTSD, less guilt, the works.

But things had suddenly gotten out of hand on an unimaginable scale. Entire cities were being quarantined, people were frantically trying to get away from Japan.

All this chaos helped the virus spread faster. It reached the Asian mainland in half a week. First China, then South-East Asia, India, the Middle East, and finally Eastern Europe.

Even after the boldest efforts of the European Union to nuke away the fallen cities of Romania and Bulgaria, the spread of the virus was relentless.

It had reached the UK and had wrecked London before people could even wrap their heads around what was going on.

Finally, it was the turn of the USA and its neighbors.

From a few of the spine-chilling footage that we saw on TV and social media, the spread was mainly through a bite. The person who was bitten laid still for some time immediately after the bite. Then his or her body convulsed and contorted peculiarly until it was almost arched backward like a bow. Then they suddenly leaped up, eyes bloodshot, saliva dribbling from their mouth, staring here and there, searching like a rabid animal, hunting for its next prey.

Upon spotting another victim, it ran towards it maniacally, pinning them to the ground. It either ate his or her flesh alive or just left them with their bite, thus turning them and increasing their number.

The only way to kill them was either chopping their heads off or bashing their skulls till their brains were crushed. But the culling was a lot slower than the speed of transmission.

Thus, the army of the dead swelled in no time.

The last TV broadcast of the world ended with the news anchor saying, "It is here. They are here. Save yourselves people. God bless us. God bless America,"

Since then it has been all static. It was just like the Medieval Ages. No one could communicate with the outside world, nobody knew whom to contact, where to contact, or how to contact. Phone lines, emergency helplines, internet connections all were down.

The initial first week was utter chaos throughout the US. Vandalism was rampant, people took to the streets. There was a group of people who even denied the existence of such a global apocalypse and blamed it all on the government. "Conspiracy Theory", they called it.

Many people, good God-fearing people, turned into monsters. Affluent people barricaded themselves in their mansions, fortifying the walls.

The apocalypse truly brought out the beast in everybody. Rape, murder, arson, and looting followed unchecked.

Everyone was busy hoarding stuff for the end of days. Malls, shopping centers, grocery stores were looted and set on fire. Families hid in their homes. General people with emergency bunkers secured themselves in. The government, police, and military had also disappeared, leaving the streets free for all.

Our country had plunged into the greatest depths of anarchy.

Mom and I took shelter in the local church. Father Jonathan was the one who had gathered us, a small group of religious folks.

He took charge, "Folks, the House of God always has a place for His followers. Follow me."

He showed us a concealed door behind the confession booth. He slid it open to show us the flight of stairs which ran downstairs.

"This Church was built during the times of World War I. The founding fathers deemed it fit to build a bunker beneath it in case of an Emergency."

We entered into a cozy warm bunker with stone walls. The entire space was dimly lit with candelabras and hanging braziers. With no electricity around, they were the only source of light.

There were 10 well-made beds for all of us.

"There is enough food and water to last us for around a year if we use it judiciously. There are separate bathrooms for men and women. We do not need to worry people. We shall leave this bunker under no circumstances."

There was a small radio also, this big piece of primitive instrument was now our sole connection with the outside world. The reception was very poor and it took hours to catch a signal, but otherwise, it was all we had.

All 10 of us who had gathered here knew each other from Sunday Mass. There were 2 families with us: the Millers and the Murphys. Each was a family of four: husband, wife, and two children. Mom and I made ten.

We sat together holding hands and saying prayers, had a small meal of canned veggies, and then quickly settled into our bunks, I slept in the upper bunk while mom slept in the bunk below me.

Father Jonathan wished us goodnight and finally blew on the candles, extinguishing the light. It was not pitch dark, because moonlight streamed in through one small window which was there for ventilation.

Suddenly, someone clasped my hands and startled me.

It was mom. " Sorry honey, I didn't mean to scare you." She was almost sobbing now.

"I know things have been tough for us ever since your father passed away and now this. Please have faith, baby. We will get through this."

She rested her head on my shoulders and continued to sob. I gently patted her blonde hair and couldn't help but mentally remark on how beautiful they smell, even in this shanty basement bunker.

Days passed. Weeks passed.

Everyone started to feel claustrophobic at one point in time. But we had no other option but to stay down here, hidden from the world. The more stories we heard of the outside world, the less enthusiastic we felt about leaving this bunker.

More than 75% of the Earth's population has been converted into those mindless zombies. And their numbers continued to increase with each passing day.

With the law enforcement agencies in shambles, people had taken laws into their own hands.

Mainly the anti-socials, criminals, and gangsters have taken over. They have organized themselves and called themselves raiders or marauders. They were further divided into warring factions within themselves as if the apocalypse wasn't enough.

They had free access to all the weapons on the land the police and military had left behind. So, they had no shortage of firepower.

They killed the zombies alright, and significantly made the streets safer, but the general public had a heavy price to pay.

With such great power along with almost no responsibility bestowed upon them, their words became the rules of the land. As days passed and when they had killed most of the zombies, they wanted more.

They now turned their attention to the general surviving folks. They wanted it all. Their houses, their food, their women... everything.

The various factions of raiders started to routinely raid houses of the people, irrespective of rich or the poor. They looted everyone dry, robbing them of their resources, killed them slowly and sadistically, while taking their women captive for their amusement.

Blood and fire filled the streets, screams of victims' agony, and torturer's cruel laughter filled the air of our country.

Two months into quarantine, the Millers and Murphys were almost on the verge of losing their minds due to the claustrophobia and the barbarism prevailing above ground. They wanted to go out at any cost.

Father Jonathan tried his best to dissuade them from leaving. He pleaded with them to have faith in God's plans and to remain patient. But the months of isolation and chaos around us had taken their toll on them.

Frank Miller, their head of the family, stood by his decision, unshaken. "You are a deluded old man. Can't you see what's happening out there? We will take our chances out there in the open rather than stay here and rot to death."

Saying so, they had left. The Murphys followed their cue soon after.

That was the last we heard of the Millers or the Murphys. To date, I do not know what became of them.

So, two months into quarantine, we were now just 3 people left inside the bunker. Me, mom, and Father Jonathan.

More months passed and now, we are in the sixth month of our hiding.

To put it bluntly, mom had been struggling to keep herself together. She would have frequent mental breakdowns now and then, and Father Jonathan and I would take turns comforting her.

"This place is choking me. I need to get out," she would plead. When she was not having such breakdowns, she withdrew within herself in a corner. Her mental health was in ruins. Her husband's death and this drastic change of circumstances had fractured her mind. I only hoped it was temporary.

Monotony set in our regular chores here at the basement. Wake up, pray, eat and repeat. The radio broadcasts grew all the less frequent. We would hardly get a distress or warning signal in 2-3 days now.

A fatal incident took place now, in the sixth month of our isolation. Father Jonathan accidentally received a deep burn on his left thigh while cooking. He had not been paying attention and had spilled the entire boiling water over his legs.

Mom and I quickly put the burnt area under running cold tap water, dressed his thighs, and helped him settle in his bed. His face was contorted with pain.

We changed his bandage regularly every day, but the inevitable happened. He spiked a fever on the 3rd day after receiving the burn.

We knew what he needed. Antibiotics. That was the only thing that we did not have a supply of. His condition deteriorated the next day. The fever refused to go down and his face looked pale and toxic.

Finally, mom made up her mind. We needed to go for a supply run. We knew it was the stupidest thing to do. Neither of us has been above ground ever since the apocalypse started.

Countless horrors awaited us above. From mindless zombies to sadistic raiders. But we had no other choice. We needed the medications to save the Father.

We had no ammunition, no lethal weapons to protect ourselves whilst out in the open. Venturing into a raging apocalypse without any defenses, was the stupidest of decisions now that I think about it. But at that time, it seemed to be our only chance of saving the man who had sheltered us.

Before I could say a thing, mom firmly told me, "Alex, honey, you are staying here. I will be back even before you know it."

I protested heavily, but mom had already made up her mind. We were interrupted when Father Jonathan stirred from his bed.

"Diane, take me with you. I know where the nearest medicine shop is, and I also know the shortest route to it."

"But Father, you are in no condition to travel!" exclaimed mom.

"Well, I will admit I have seen better days. But if you support me, Diane, I think I will be able to make it."

So finally it was decided, mom and Father Jonathan would go for the supply run. While I would stay over here, guarding the basement.

Before she left, mom took off her silver crucifix and put it around my neck. She looked at me lovingly, her deep blue eyes boring into me, "Baby, you take care alright? If we are not back by tonight, do not come searching for us. The Lord will watch over you."

She stifled a cry and she hugged me. Then she sweetly planted a kiss on my cheek. Father John blessed me and I wished them a safe journey and return.

I will admit I was afraid. My guts felt twisted, terror made me nauseous. But we had no other options.

I tearfully bid them farewell as they ascended from the basement and entered the post-apocalyptic world for the first time since the mayhem began.

My mother's last look still haunts me, it was a mixture of horror and worry.

I settled down back again in the basement and awaited their return. I didn't know when I had fallen asleep.

I woke up at the sound of birds and noticed it was the crack of the dawn. Fear and terror almost made me puke my guts out. It was almost the next day and both of them hadn't returned yet.

I stood up, alerted, and paced the entire length of the basement. I didn't even know what to do.

Several thoughts flooded my mind. Should I go out and search for them? Should I wait for some more time? What if they were never to return?

Before I even knew it, I had curled up on the basement floor and started bawling out loudly. I had no idea in the world what to do next.

I did not know for how long I lay there. Sometimes here in the basement time flies very fast, sometimes time tends to stand still.

It was almost 3 days after their disappearance that I tried to piece everything together. I gathered myself up and tried to weigh my options rationally.

I might be physically weak, but I had watched enough pop movies about the apocalypse to know how to work things out,

Going all out is a big no-no. Almost all the major character deaths happen when they try to be bold and do something they should not do.

I have enough ration to last me for a year almost if I were to consume them all by myself, considering everyone is gone now.

If I charge out unprepared now, I would only get myself captured or killed. That would not help me or anyone. So I needed to formulate a plan.