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Angela Ziegler’s Crippling Boy-Cock Addiction	By : Tastatura Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 47021 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters portrayed. Overwatch and Mercy do not belong to me. I make no money by doing this.

Chapter List
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According to Angela Ziegler, the foremost problem with modern physical-enhancement compounds was one rooted in their reliance on intravenous and surgical application. Technological streamlining had long-since allowed for even the most slovenly of the world’s biochemists to synthesize compounds potent enough to induce significant (and permanent) effects, but the task of normalizing their application remained well beyond the ability of even the most skilful of practitioners.

Not once had Mercy considered herself as an exception to this rule. Lauded by her colleagues for her restorative breakthroughs near-annually, it remained ever apparent to her that there was more that she could be doing within the field of medicine. After the surgical ordeals concerned with saving her son’s life and her relocation to suburbia, applying herself to this task and looking after Yuuta simultaneously seemed to her as the best way to give back to the boy that she loved and the world that he had come from.

Within 6 months of Yuuta’s procedures, her homestay pushed the field of physical enhancement into a future as bright as it was daunting. In this time, she managed to ‘repackage’ many of the compounds she had used to save Yuuta’s life into a pair of more accessible forms: fluid-soluble pills and skin-friendly gels. While experimental in nature (and still far too effective to be haphazardly combined within a single body), the prototypes that she designed immediately proved stable enough to be of use to operatives in the field, and even those sequestered in recovery.

Rather than continue with the development of alternative prototype forms—namely gummy candies for children and moist compresses for active operatives—word of her successes prompted Mercy to refine the stability of her pills and gels for mass-production. Working throughout the evenings that Yuuta slept, her efforts brought her pet-project into the realm of long-term marketability by the end of her first year with Yuuta.

Useful as the product might’ve been, the internal turmoil that had seen her cut off from Overwatch saw her products produced, but largely ignored by the organization at large. Mercy made several inquiries as to the products’ status, but the only answers she received were those relating to the surplus that the company had already stocked. Happily consumed by the hustle and bustle of parenthood, the organization’s unresponsiveness eventually resulted in Mercy forgetting about the project altogether.

Some months later, she remembered—or so her operative file stated. After months of inactivity, a delivery order was placed through Mercy’s account to have several weeks-worth of pills and several containers of gel delivered to her home.

Unbeknownst to Overwatch—and Mercy herself—‘Angela Ziegler’ had nothing to do with the order. From its placement to its delivery, everything concerned with the requisition was managed by one Yuuta Andreas Ziegler. Displaying intelligence and craftiness beyond his years, his acquirement of the products saw them stowed away within rarely-explored nooks and crannies throughout the home he shared with his mother.

Like any other child intent on planning a ‘surprise’ for their parent, his usage of the delivery came only after he felt certain that he hadn’t been found out. Deeply driven to reward his mother for her usual ‘niceness’ and gift to her a body that matched his mental image of her, Yuuta spent the following few weeks actively drugging her with her own compounds. Knowledgeable as to the water-soluble nature of her pills and the tastelessness of their active compounds, all of Mercy’s morning teas and evening coffees were spiked with a comically excessive number of pills. Where possible, equally ridiculous numbers were ground into powder, then covertly added to what few of her meals they could be safely snuck into.

Her lotions and makeups received similar treatment. Each and every one of her skin-cream and lotion containers were emptied to a half-way mark, and subsequently filled in entirely with a volume of gel. The lacing of her makeups with the substance proved a bit too fine a task for him to manage covertly, but Mercy’s naivety ensured that the majority of his mistakes were taken on by her as the consequence of lapses in her memory.

Cumulatively, Yuuta’s efforts amounted to Mercy’s subjection to a triple dosage of the compounds she had developed on a daily basis. By the time Mercy noticed that a great many things were amiss about her body, the potency of the experimental compounds had already altered her body above and beyond recognition.
At first, Mercy had accepted her changing frame as a direct consequence of motherhood. A stationary life at home with a child was bound to replace taut muscle mass with fat and tempt her fertile frame into the creation of extra ‘padding’. As well, the busyness of her days and her contentment with them made the odd tight piece of clothing or too-small bra ‘forgettable’ in the grand scheme of her life.

In the end, the blonde’s wakeup call came at the place that she dreaded most: the body-length mirror stowed away within her closet for the rainy days in which she did not feel ‘pretty’.

Somehow, she had become too tall for it. Inexplicably 6 inches taller than she had been a month prior, her head and shoulders were cut out of the naked image that she presented in front of it.

Everything that she remembered about her body from her neck downwards was different. Sloping massively from off of her torso were breasts swollen to sow-like proportions. Once a pair of modest C-Cups sized and shaped as an ideal handful, the now G-Cup mounds offered more flesh than even the most burly of male palms could hope to compress. Pale, and at the time gleaming with moisture from her latest shower, they seemed to her then as more pliant to the touch, and in no way strained by their own excess. Shortly, their shape as perfectly-packaged teardrop-sacs of fat and flesh convinced her mind that they were ‘natural’ given a single glance. Normally shaped and only partly sagged as a consequence of her age, she could not help but feel as though she had been born with them.

What grounded the appraisal of her frame in reality was its shape from her breasts downward. Having previously regarded herself as slender—plump at worst if someone were to press her—the shape of her torso, hips, and legs convinced her that she had been changed. Both below and underneath the span of her breasts was a midsection padded with a perfect balance of fat and musculature. Distributed such that she would appear proportional as opposed to plump, what amounts of her abdominals she could see showed evidence of physical conditioning. As a mother, she did none of this—not unless walking to the store counted as exercise.

The perfect pudge at her middle could have been forgotten, but the scope of her hips drove her abnormalities home. Bleeding outwards from the end of her torso was an obtuse hip-line that suggested inhuman fertility. Wide enough to offer enough span for two grown women seeking ample birthing hips, her waist and torso seemed positively tiny in comparison. As well, the fats and curvature gifted to women within their best child-birthing years could be seen padding the regions in excess. Evident in the obtuse ‘V’ of her crotch line and the flares of flesh-gloved bone structure to either side of it, this fraction of her frame in particular struck her not as a product of genetics, but of science.

Her thighs were exactly the same.
The apparent span of the pale tree-trunks and their wrinkle-less exteriors prompted her to turn to the left and right to confirm their actual size. Both limb-sections lead into an equally-bloated half of her arm-width buttocks, but neither one seemed at all bogged down by the flesh that they had gained. Through and through, they had been enhanced and not enlarged. The skin draped over them was smoother and healthier, and their thickness balanced the width of her hips enough so that she did not seem completely bow-legged. As had been the case with her breasts, the huggable limb sections seemed more likely to be a product of complimentary physical development than some form of alteration.

As a woman of science, accepting such biological perfection in herself after the changes that her life had gone through was impossible for Mercy. After coming to terms with her enhancements (a feat accomplished through several jiggly sprints between her bedroom’s mirror and the bathroom’s), she set her mind to the task of discerning what had happened to her.

Of the possible causes, the compounds she had developed were the most likely explanation. If an enemy organization somehow got their hands on the products stockpiled within Overwatch, ‘poisoning’ her with them would be all too easy.

This explanation was unlikely—her current location was undisclosed even amongst higher-ranking Overwatch operatives, and she had received no word of a possible betrayal within the organization.

If not them, the only other possibility was Yuuta. Imagined by her mind was a perfect, hypothetical world, wherein Yuuta somehow acquired the compounds, dosed her with them, and hid his doing so from her. Such a world would require him to be much more intelligent and perverse than he appeared to be, but otherwise, it was not entirely far-fetched.

Alone with her thoughts and her new warped frame, Mercy pit this possibility against all others until only her love for Yuuta remained as an ‘argument’ against the obvious.

As it always did, her love for the boy won out. Choosing to believe that she had become a victim of the internal strife that plagued her organization, she continued on with her daily life as though her sudden ‘physical revelation’ hadn’t hit her. Yuuta went unquestioned as a potential perpetrator, and the added stresses wrought from the event (namely the recreation of her wardrobe) were taken on by her as another cross to bear.

Mercy’s ‘investment’ in this particular brand of blind belief proved costly. Upon revealing herself to Yuuta while wearing her new clothing, she found the boy all-too ready to accept what had become of her body and indulge himself in it. As if ignorant to the progression of her development, he dealt with her as though all of her changes had happened overnight. His hugs grew longer, his attempts at clinging to her waistline more handy, and his pestering her to sleep in the same bed that she did more frequent. He did not go so far as attempting to cling to her at every hour of the day, but it remained apparent that his abnormal interest in her had somehow become more…abnormal.

On top of everything, mitigating these events became impossible. More so than ever, Mercy found herself extremely willing to take on any and all of Yuuta’s requests—especially those that concerned her contact with him.

Internally, she attempted to normalize her doing so with arguments central to ‘rewarding’ his acceptant behavior with permissiveness. Deep down, though, she knew otherwise. Where Yuuta was concerned, she wanted to be touched. She wanted her body to appeal to him. She wanted to be someone that he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

Just as her psyche lied to itself to maintain its stability, so too did her body rebel to see the basal desires suppressed within her heart realized. Suddenly, she began to perceive Yuuta’s skin as hot to the touch. Each time she breathed in his scent—a natural aroma laboured with masculine pheromones—sections of her brain previously dulled by parental affect were consumed by chemical attraction. Over time, both of these symptoms were exacerbated to the point at which naturally interacting with the boy for long periods of time left her dizzy and feverish.

The harder she worked to keep these feelings from altering her behavior, the more severe and fear-inspiring that they became. Try as she did to keep herself as she had been, thoughts of a more damning sort eventually took up permanent residence within the back of her mind.

Of them, one in particular throbbed within her skull on a daily basis:

“I want to be bred by my son until I can’t think about anything else.”

-

1 YEAR AND 5 MONTHS INTO YUUTA’S HOMESTAY—THE HOME OF ANGELA ‘MERCY’ ZIEGLER

Faced with the smooth white finish of a door that she did not wish to open, Mercy stood, stared, and fidgeted in hopes that the activities might urge her forward. Having posted herself here nearly 10 minutes prior, the likelihood of these activities amounting to anything—whether in the present or future—seemed slim.

Mercy understood this. She understood that her hesitation was unnecessary, and had long since accepted that stepping through the door ahead of her was another of the responsibilities unique to her position as a mother.

Nevertheless, her feet refused to move for her. Despite having done so countless times in the past, moving through the door and doing what was required of her seemed more difficult now than it had at any point during the past. Bit by bit did this irrational fear well within her until its encroachment on her reason evoked a fight-or-flight response from her mind.

Fists clenched and teeth grit, she was forced to think.

“This isn’t going to go away, Angela.” she told herself. “Everything about this comes right back to you—getting cold feet because of how things have turned out doesn’t mean that you can just turn back.”

“So get a hold of yourself.” Forcing her downcast gaze upward, she sharpened the pitiful look she had directed at the foot of the door into a hateful glare at its peak. “The only thing that has changed since last time is you. If you’re going to let something like that stop you from taking care of Yuuta, you may as well give up trying to raise him altogether.”

Just as it had in the past, threatening herself with the loss of her son made her limbs feel lighter. Shaking off her remaining indecision with a wagging of her skull, Mercy softened her gaze, then dropped her dominant hand down to the door knob below her waist.

A moment later, the discomfort that had held her behind the door was melted by the heat, moisture, and haze of the bathroom ahead of it.

“There you are, Mommy!” Yuuta chirped. “Did you find the swimsuit thingy you were looking for? You said it was lost, so I can come help look for it if you want me too!”

“Oh, but I gotta finish washing my hair first!” he added. “See? I got it all soapy and stuff all by myself!”

Seated atop a child-sized stool towards the bathroom’s back end was Yuuta. Naked save for the patches of moisture and soap suds that covered odd fractions of his frame, his greeting and the excited ascent that followed it melted Mercy’s heart. If only for a moment, the sight allowed her to forget the plight that she had fallen into and all of the other difficulties associated with it.

Soothed, her parental reflexes responded to his greeting whilst her mind collected itself.

“Yes, I did find it, sweetie! I’m wearing it right now, actually.” she exhaled. “It’s…well…a lot smaller than I remember it being, but the point is that it’s been found.” Idly peering down at herself while she spoke, the positive affect swirling within her chest rendered her immune to the outrageously sexual presentation of her frame. Satisfied with only a glance, she turned her attention straight back toward Yuuta.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I did, too! Having a certain special someone running around the house before his bath is finished would’ve made quite the mess!” she giggled.

Chuckling as well, a smirk of boyish derision sprang to Yuuta’s face.

“C’mon, Mommy; I’m not a baby! If I was gonna do that, I’d at least dry off first…”he complained. As quickly as it had appeared, the smirk at his mouth became a warm smile. “Anyway, c’mon! Now that you’ve got your pretty swimsuit, you can help me finish with my bath, right?”

‘Apparently’ indifferent to his own nakedness and the current state of his mother’s frame, Yuuta followed up his inquiry by pattering up to a position in front of Mercy. Outstretching his arms, he dumped his torso into a face-first hug with the moist, squishy excess offered by his mother’s thighs. Nuzzling his face into their bare flesh whilst pushing his arms around her waist into a hopeless depression against the flesh of her asscheeks, he again proved himself as all too ready to embrace the comforts of his mother’s changed body.

Mercy should have expected as much. In the weeks since her body had stabilized, Yuuta had been extremely accepting of her changed features. Again and again had he verbally conveyed his preference for her new body whilst also taking every opportunity presented to ‘familiarize’ himself with it. Thus, another risqué hug from the youth should not have come as much of a surprise to her.

Yet it did. Consumed within a haze of parental affection right up until the completion of his hug, the feeling of his wet flesh against hers and the abnormal warmth that his body exuded snapped Mercy’s mind right back into reality.

Everything changed in the blink of an eye. Suddenly overstimulated, Mercy drove her thighs together as if trying to protect the mound above Yuuta’s head from observation. Whilst trembling, cream-laden breast milk burst from her nipples and the numerous ducts embedded into her fattened areola. Flowing as a milkshake might, the life-affirming substance’s release was reminiscent of the ‘clearance’ of a backed up pipe.

Embarrassed, Mercy began to squirm within her son’s incomplete grasp. Her mind told her that breaking from it was necessary if she was to avoid leaking milk onto his body. In addition, her instincts warned her that continuing to allow him to grope and nuzzle at her body would result in her cumming.

Ultimately, neither of these proved a good enough reason to deny the boy his hug. What saved the quivering blonde from drenching her son’s hair with cunt juice was the realization that she had entered the bathroom dressed as a massive slab of masturbatory fuel.

At present, all that separated her from nakedness were the straps of a white-gold sling bikini. Fundamentally white, yet bordered by a chrome-gold outline, the once stylish and sexy garment was stretched to the point of invalidation atop her frame. The snug grasp that its thumb-width straps applied to the fair flesh of her shoulders was no different than it had been in the past, but past this point, the flesh and width that her body had gained curtailed the coverage that they offered to a narrow finger’s worth. Both extending down towards her crotch as opposing arcs of the same ‘V’, these fingers of fabric dug into the tips of her leaking nipples and suckled to the breast flesh above and below them such that both mounds seemed fatter overall. In all likelihood, the fabric’s depression into the flesh of her breasts was likely to blame for the volume of milk presently drooling out of them.

Naturally, the garment’s make left the sculpted plumpness of her middle and the succulent width of her fertile hips completely uncovered. When finally its straps reconvened at her crotch, both were drawn so thinly that the patch of fabric meant to cover her lower lips was reduced to the width of a rectangular medical plaster.

Among other things (all of which related to Yuuta), presenting her already-whorish frame whilst wearing such a miniscule bathing suit was what had held her behind the bathroom door for so long. Now, with Yuuta nuzzling her frame and the entirety of her body on display, taking some space for herself and reorienting while she still had the chance became her foremost priority.

Settling her hands down against Yuuta’s shoulders, she gently peeled the youth from off of her front until his soaked torso was pushed to an arm’s distance ahead of her waist.

Regrettably, Mercy wrought no relief from her attempt at self-preservation. In pushing Yuuta away, she situated his frame perfectly for appraisal by her eyes. No less smiley from the sudden cessation of his hug, her eyes trailed from his facial features down to his neck, then past this in an ill-advised trip down his torso.

Just below Yuuta’s pectorals was the tip of his cock. Swollen such that the pale flesh that comprised it appeared beet red and glazed with copious amounts of precum, there could be no ignoring its presence. Below the tip extended a trunk of cockmeat swamped with veins and fattened to a girth that eclipsed Yuuta’s thigh, whilst below this hung a pair of loose, softball-sized testicles that her nose verified as positively reeking of semen.

At the sight of it, bathing Yuuta became the very last of Mercy’s concerns.

“A-Alrighty, that’s enough standing, don’t you think?” Mercy stammered. “Let’s get the rest of you cleaned up. It’ll be bed time soon—y-you don’t want to wake up feeling sleepy, right?”

Not missing a beat, Yuuta shook his head in disconfirmation with a smile on his face. Acting while she could, Mercy gently turned his frame around by his shoulders and pushed him back over to the stool that he had pattered away from. First prompting him to seat himself, she subsequently dropped to her knees to take up a position at his back. Hands momentarily freed from his frame, she collected a nearby basin of warm water she had drawn prior to acquiring her swimsuit. This done, she dipped her mammary-laden torso forward to mitigate the startling difference between their sizes, and spoke.

“Time to rinse, okay? Eyes closed!” she admonished.

“‘Kay!” Yuuta chimed.

Pausing for a moment, Mercy briefly peeked around Yuuta’s back to confirm that he had actually shut his eyes. Visual confirmation of this saw control of the basin cupped between her hands passed solely to her left hand, and initiated a curling descent of her right hand around Yuuta’s front. As tactually deft as any practicing surgeon, she simultaneously manipulated the limbs in two separate actions. Whilst slanting the basin above Yuuta’s head to drain its contents out over his head, she whipped her right hand inward and outward towards his crotch.

When all was said and done, the shampoo in his hair was washed out by a blanket of water, and his sticky, unwashed member was partly compressed within the span of Mercy’s right hand.
Appearances aside, Mercy had already taken steps to validate the intimacy of her grasp. Right before squeezing her palm into the balmy log, a flick of her wrist had pumped a splatter of clear soap onto the surface of her palm. Thus, by the time its face made contact with the exterior of Yuuta’s cock, a thin layer of the substance spared its surface from ‘direct’ contact with his member. As well, it provided her with a vital excuse for the inquiry undoubtedly sitting at the tip of Yuuta’s tongue.

“Hey! Whacha doin’, Mommy? I thought I was supposed to wash this part of me myself?” Yuuta inquired. “It’s ok if you help out—my hair’s still kinda soapy anyway. Don’t forget that I can do it myself though, ‘kay?”

In response, Mercy tipped the weight of her chest further downward to smother her breasts against the back of Yuuta’s head. Purposing both mounds as a pair of malleable pillows for his skull and neck, she quietly created an environment that the boy was unlikely to ask questions about.

She did not stop here, either.

“W-Well, we’ll just make today special, o-okay?” she suggested. “You’ve been very helpful and responsible with everything that has been going with…well…me, s-so I just thought that my little boy deserved some extra attention.”

“I’ll be really quick, so hold still for me, ok?”

Without a reason to doubt his mother’s intentions, Yuuta shrugged. Turning back to face the bathroom wall ahead of them, he indifferently availed himself to Mercy’s ‘scrubbing’ as a more normally built child might have accepted the worrisome pruning of a parent.

Mercy’s ministrations were anything but worrisome. Convinced that she had successfully ‘fooled’ her son, she immediately pressed the grasp she had folded around his member down the length of his cock. From tip to root, she applied the same oppressive pressure to the spire’s vascular exterior without notable gains or losses throughout. Through this, the obese blood-vessels strewn about its exterior were easily compressed into her lubricated grasp, and the stifling heat put off by his shaft was allowed a constant soak into the digits folded around it.

A single full length stroke of the orifice-ruining endowment widened Mercy’s eyes in disbelief. No matter how many times she wrapped one of her hands around his erection, the experience remained the same. Teased by the throbbing and squirming of veins and strained by the distance that her palm was required to cover, her hand’s arrival at the root of his erection tempted her heart into an infatuated flutter.

Given these, it was difficult to tell if she was shocked or smitten.

“I-It’s just so big…” she stammered internally, dominant hand frozen in its grasp around the root of his cock. “I-I’ve always known—I feel it and see it so often, b-but this is different. I-It feels like it’s ready to burst, b-but Yuuta doesn’t seem l-like he feels it all!”

Ever conscious of the speed prerequisites concerned with a proper ‘washing’, Mercy forced her planted palm back up through another comprehensive choking of Yuuta’s shaft. Drawing another sheen of soap against his member as she went, the return of her grasp to the beginnings of his glans served as the starting point for a more feverish chain of strokes.

“What I’ve done to his body is just unforgivable.” she lamented. “Any girl that he ends up with is somehow going to have to deal with feeling this inside them over and over again. I-If they’re not the right sort of girl, h-he might never be able find someone.”

“I suppose…”

“I suppose he’d still have me in that case, but everyone needs someone, don’t they? H-He’s not going to be this age forever after all…”

Whilst Mercy thought, Yuuta relaxed. Unconcerned by the fact that his bath had all but ceased, he pushed his head further backward into the mass of his mother’s bust and locked his gaze down onto the hand pumping up and down the length of his cock.

The sight of it made him smile. Noisy and wet, the strokes themselves were devoid of his mother’s usual girlish apprehension, and maintained at a pleasurable speed in spite of the voluminous discharges of precum that regularly burst from his shaft’s tip.

Minutes had passed since the leaking of his member had utterly drenched Mercy’s hand in cock-sludge, but she refused to stop. If the speed of her stroking was any indication, the most likely explanation was that she couldn’t.

Assured as much by a voice within the back of his head, the smile on his face became a grin.

“Just a little more should be fine, then.” he thought to himself. “I think Mommy should be happy with that, too. It’d be kinda bad if I made her stop when she seems this excited.”

Unbeknownst to Yuuta, Mercy’s appetite for sexual contact with his cock was no longer something that could be stifled by a glorified handjob.

Intoxicated by the stench of Yuuta’s precum and the increased pace of his member’s throbbing, Mercy’s changed libido had committed her to a stroking pattern that all but guaranteed an orgasm for her son.

At present, bringing about such a happening was her frame’s focus. The blurting of cunt-slime from between her legs, the dribbling of milk from her nipples—every behavior that her body produced was one meant to somehow ‘supplement’ her son’s orgasm. As Mercy remained far too conflicted to accept her need and apply her new body’s gifts to his satiation, each response was blown out of proportion to match the surging speed and messiness of her handjob.

Comically, her thoughts remained completely un-invested in her body’s perversions. Whilst edging her son faster than ever before, incessant protest (as opposed to promotion) and concern consumed her mind’s soundscape.

“O-Oh god, i-it keeps throbbing. I-It’s throbbing harder and harder the f-faster I stroke it…” she mumbled internally. “I-It’s too hard…I-I need to slow it down, otherwise h-he’s gonna get uncomfortable. I-It’s gonna start hurting him so bad…” she mewled.

“W-Why am I…w-why am I putting so much effort i-into this? T-There’s so much goo on m-my hand and it reeks of s-sperm. It’ll stop if I stop, too! A-All I have to do is stop and everything will stop!”

No matter how strongly she advocated for an end to her faux scrubbing effort, Mercy’s hand continued to stroke and squeeze stimulation into her son’s reddened erection.

Just when all hope of remaining decent seemed lost to her, an especially deep throb of blood passed through Yuuta’s member. Thunderous and thick, Mercy’s perception of it forced her hormone-soaked brain into a realization:

“One more stroke and you’ll have made your son cum.”

With these words echoing within her ear, the separation of Mercy’s mind and body was undone. At the request of her consciousness, her hand abandoned its vehement stroking of Yuuta’s cock in favor of a petrified hover adjacent its glans. In return, her body demanded that the squishing of her breasts against his skull be supplemented by a hugging of her free arm around the boy’s front.

Left to stew in disbelief as to how close she had come to the point of no return, Mercy took to silence. Mind empty and ears deaf, she focused on steadying her breathing until the voice of the boy at her front forced her to function.

“Everything ok, Mommy? You’re shaking.” Yuuta asked.

In the moment, Mercy did not stop to consider telling the truth.

“I-I’m ok, sweetie…” Mercy exhaled.

“Mommy’s just fine…”

-

END♥ ROAD #1

Mercy couldn’t wait to be alone. For her, the minutes that she had spent with Yuuta inside the bathroom necessitated time alone inside her bedroom with her face mashed into her pillows and a hand between her legs.

To this end, she acted promptly. After escorting her clothed and refreshed child out of the bathroom, she wasted no time in whisking him off to his bedroom and tucking him in for the night. As he had never been one for bedtime stories, the process was as simple as lovingly tousling his hair, kissing his forehead, and reminding him of the fun that awaited him when next he awoke. Once out of his bedroom and safely tucked away within the house’s second floor corridor, she strode back to her bedroom as quickly as her gelatinized limbs would carry her.

Behind her bedroom door was where she lost herself. All but tearing off the skin-tight ¾ pants suckling to her lower body off of her frame, she stumbled towards her bed until a bucking of her legs against its frame plunged her torso into a face-first plant against its mattress.

To her, the tumble that she took was ideal. Here, she bent both of her legs at the knee and drew each one upward and inward across the mattress. Pushing her buttocks outwards throughout the transition, she in doing so settled her frame into a face-down ass-up position. Whilst her mouth sat covered by the fabric of her bedsheets, the weight of her torso was comfortably buoyed by the ample mass of her breasts.

In this position, she could take care of herself. Parting her lips, she took a wad of sheet fabric between her lips and bit into it with the apprehension of a starving and docile animal. Mouth plugged, she pushed her dominant hand across her abdominals, then curled it upwards until her fingers were greeted by the heat and moisture put off by her womanhood. Oozing syrup as if damaged to the point of internal leakage, her fingers’ contact with the swollen mound yoked a pleasured squeal from her throat out into the welcoming embrace of her bedsheets.

Daunting as the hyper-sensitive organ seemed, Mercy refused to wait. Deepening the depression of her teeth into her sheets, she pushed her index, middle, and ring fingers against one another to create a miniature shovel with the digits. Once formed, a curved flick of her wrist plunged their combined girth between her lower lips right down to the knuckle.

No sooner did she penetrate herself was the gag plugged between her lips put to actual use.

“S-So goooood !! I-It feels s-so fucking good, Yuyu…♥” she mewled. “S-Stir me up as much as y-you want—m-make it so that my i-inside can’t forget you~!”

Mercy had not lost herself. As she was presently, she felt confident that no one would ever hear the words that had come out of her lips. As well, only these words aptly summed up the feelings that presently plagued her unused womanhood.

She just no longer cared. So long as she could keep her deranged body from doing ‘harm’ to the boy that she loved, hissing obscenities into her pillow whilst ceaselessly fucking her insides was a price that she was entirely willing to pay.

And pay she did. After snugly goring her fingers into the meat of her cunt, she immediately put her wrist to work in simulating the fucking that her folds so desperately desired. Reversing the invasive spike that had seen the digits plugged through her mound, she withdrew them as far as their middle-joints before viciously stabbing them back from whence they came. Each one gratuitously drenched in the gooey lubricant that gleamed atop the surface of her inner thighs, their second penetration of her folds was just as smooth as the first had been. Unlike the first, however, this one was accompanied by a compliment. Knowing the inner workings of her body better than anyone else, Mercy bent all three of her fingers inward at their tips throughout their depression. Driving the flesh-wrapped bones at these regions against her cunt-flesh alongside her finger nails, she through this complemented the feelings of fullness gained from her penetration with the rush of an internal strain.

When finally her fingers returned to their feeble hilt within her cunt, a fraction of the pleasure she had imagined her son’s cock as providing rippled from between her spread folds straight up the length of her spine.

Convinced that she had stumbled upon a metronome worth sticking to, Mercy again wrenched her fingers out of her cunt, then plunged them back inwards to set her hand into a spirited ‘fucking’ of her folds.

Visually, her ministrations seemed to be the exact thing that she needed. After a vehement *SPLRT *, all three digits were very easily plunged back through to their hilts within her. Each depression naturally elicited a heavy discharge of her slimy internal lubricant, and even tempted her folds into squirting out more of the substance after the fact. When all three of Mercy’s fingers sat safely within her folds, muscular convulsions applied by her inner walls threatened to see their formation broken, and their extents suckled just as a proper phallus would have been.

As she worked, the pleasure that surged through her cunt forced further obscenities into the bedsheets at her lips.

“Y-Yesss♥. F-Feel’sh so g-good….Y-Yuuta’s c-cock stirring up m-my cunt feel’sh PERFECT.” she cooed. “I-It’s gonna make me burst. G-Getting my c-cunt warped like t-this is gonna make me c-cum all over myself ♥.”

Whilst speaking, strained bliss and anticipation were the only qualities discernable from Mercy’s face. Cheeks made rosy by her stifling body temperature whilst numerous streaks of sweat trickled down the length of her face, only pleasure could be taken away from the present configuration of her features.

The actions that followed her latest string of utterances were those that only a woman on the verge of an orgasm could produce. Instead of slowing the invasive plunge of fingers into her cunt for fear of ‘cumming all over herself’, Mercy began splitting her lower lips at a much sharper pace. Consumed by a fantasy ‘apparently’ doomed to remain as such, she gored stimulation into her womanhood until it could stand no more. The flicking of her fingers became a knuckle-deep stir-pumping of her digits within her folds, and the spurting of goo from her depths grew heavy enough to drench her entire hand.

Finally, it broke her. As if a switch had been pulled inside her, a final dunking of her fingers sent her frame into a fit of convulsions. With them came a gratuitous billowing of her fluids from between her folds, and the reverberation of a muffled scream throughout the confines of her bedroom.

“CUMMMMINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGG, Y-Yuuta’s makin’ me cummm ♥♥~” screamed Mercy. “I-I’M GETTING’ FILLED WITH HIS C-CUM~! Y-YUUYA’’S COCK JUI’SH IS BASTING MY WOMB~!”

Both her scream and its physical compliments were held until her orgasm-warmed muscles were no longer required by her frame. At one moment, Mercy’s propped up lower body trembled in anticipation of failure. At another, her legs dropped flat, and the entirety of her front was granted a flat plant against the surface of her bed.

From this was born a sight that required no explanation. With tears in her eyes, dense lubrication puddled between her legs, and a chest heaving up and down in respiration, all signs pointed towards Mercy’s wallowing in the afterglow of release.

Truthfully, she was far too removed from reality to wallow in anything. Though she was certain to feel an intense shame when made to recall her actions, the Mercy at present could do naught but smile and giggle at the pleasure that could be taken from merely imagining what her son’s cock might do to her insides…
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END ROAD #2

Despite differing from one another with regard to nuance and tone, the paths tread by Mercy and Yuuta following their shared ‘bath’ were remarkably similar to one another.

After tucking her son into bed (a fuss-less activity made even easier by agreeableness on Yuuta’s part), Mercy retired to her bedroom to engage in non-specific activities that she often described as ‘adult chores’.

Yuuta, though prepared by his mother for a sound night’s sleep, spent the first hour following her departure taken up by excitement for the future. The instant the door to his bedroom was closed, thoughts pertaining to the pleasurable bath that he had enjoyed and its implications for the future erupted into his mind with the force of a geyser.

“It’s finally too much for her! Mommy held out for ages and ages, but it looks like she’s finally ready for us to start doing more fun stuff together!” he thought to himself. “I was worried that I might’ve had to keep sneaking pills into her food, but now I don’t have to do a thing! With her body as it is, she’ll probably take the last step for me as long as I ask…” Grinning, the deductions that he made progressively pushed his thoughts in a more graphic direction. Piece by piece, thoughts pertaining to his success and the potency of his mother’s compound were replaced by extremely vivid images depicting the ‘activities’ that he would soon subject her to.

At first, these thoughts made his heart race. The idea of doing ‘adult things’ with his mother over and over again whilst she herself enjoyed each one flicked a number of arousing switches within the boy’s head.

Minutes later, the thoughts rendered him as disquietingly fidgety. Like most children, patience was not yet a virtue that he had fostered within himself. Such was his opinion of the things that he would do with his mother that dwelling on them only made him desire them more.

Ordinarily, flares of youthful greed such as this burned brightly but succinctly within his heart. As the racing of his thoughts exhausted him, the comfort of the bed space surrounding him dragged him closer and closer toward unconsciousness until it consumed him.

Tonight, things were different. His mother’s stroking of his member had steered him into a quagmire of unfulfilled arousal too deep for him to escape. Whilst floundering within it, his thoughts regarding the activities capable of satisfying his ‘frustration’ acted as monstrous limbs intent on sinking his psyche into complete inundation by lust.

In this quagmire his greed found an inexhaustible fuel source. Made to burn brighter and hotter by the second, its expansion soon gave way to the inevitable.

An explosion.

Shooting upright, Yuuta tore the buttons of his pajama top open with his dominant hand, and plunged the other through an incomplete depression of his pants’ waistline across his thighs. Pushing the garment far enough to expose the majority of his erect member, he afterwards clamped his dominant hand around as much of his glans as its tiny span could manage.

Before he knew it, he began stroking himself. Making use of the precum already welled within his urethra, he re-glazed the steaming pipe in its own lubricant through a feverish wringing of his palm up and down across its reddened extent. Masterfully flicking his wrist to see the half vice manipulated at a potent speed, he again tapped into the rarely used ‘sexual ability’ hardcoded into his frame by Mercy’s drugs.

Though sweaty and facially feverish, his visage was devoid of exertion. At his lips could be seen an amused sneer whilst his eyes projected the hunger of a starved carnivore down at his erection.

Soon enough, these features were directed towards the individual responsible for them. Whilst edging his member towards a sloppy orgasm with his dominant hand, Yuuta pressed his right hand underneath his pillow. Pinching an item beneath it between his index and middle fingers, his withdrawal of the limb peeled a digit-suspended photograph up into his line of sight.

Depicted in the photograph was Mercy. Smiling awkwardly with flour dusting her cheeks, her surroundings marked the photograph’s ‘moment’ as one of her more recent attempts at baking. The shape of her body had already been improved, and the clothing that clung to her frame bloated by flesh as a consequence.

Yuuta had requested that the photo be developed to allow for him to tactually ‘admire’ his mother whenever he felt lonely.

At least this was what he told Mercy.

In truth, he had predicted being driven to a point such as this following the completion of Mercy’s transition. In such a case, there could be no satiating himself without a proper ‘fuel’.

Now, with eyes bored down into his mother’s visage and cock regularly spewing precum against her depiction, what few concerns he had about properly ‘containing’ himself disappeared. Refocusing on the pent bloat of his member, he shortened the span of his strokes to a pair of key inches at the very tip of his member. Again and again did he pump at this fraction of his member whilst his imagination generated a full and rosy face from out of photograph ahead of his glans.

The more real this face became, the more volatile the boy`s greed became.

“She’s going to drink it all; I’m going to watch her gargle it.”

“I’m going to fucking coat her face in it.”

“Mommy’s going to be my sperm-tank and no one else’s!”

Unbridled, the stimulation that he fed himself paid dividends far sooner than he had imagined. Swiftly overcome by stimulation, Yuuta pressed the tip of his member down into a dead-on point at his photograph and accelerated his stroking effort up to an unsustainable speed. Drawing ropey strands of precum from out of his cock one after another, their release eventually culminated in a sudden thrust of his hips towards the photograph.

Following this, he erupted. All at once, a thread of cock juice engorged by Mercy’s efforts and discolored by fermentation exploded out into a massive smear against Mercy’s face. More similar to a chunk-laden paste than sticky reproductive fluid, its contents adhered to the photograph’s span as if glued in place by another substance entirely.

By itself, the strand of steaming muck consumed the entirety of Mercy’s likeness. Far too orgasmic to recognize as much, this fact did not stop Yuuta from stroking equally repulsive ropes of his nut out against it one after another.

At present, he needed to. There could be no substitute for finally blasting his cock juice out against Mercy’s face, but for the moment it was all he had.

Soon, he would have more—enough so that he’d never have to settle for a mere photograph of his mother ever again…
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Angela Ziegler’s Crippling Boy-Cock Addiction