The living-room lights were dimmed low, the massive TV flickering with the football match. He Jie lounged on the wide leather sofa, beer in hand, eyes fixed on the screen. The air smelled faintly of popcorn and cold beer.
Beneath the coffee table, on all fours on the soft carpet, knelt Qin Ya—wearing nothing but a completely transparent black lace apron that did nothing to hide her body. The flimsy fabric clung to her sweat-damp skin, the hem barely reaching the tops of her thighs. Her black leather collar gleamed under the TV light; the silver nipple rings glinted each time she breathed, connected by a thin chain that swayed between her heavy, hanging G-cup breasts. A medium-sized remote egg buzzed on a low, cruel setting deep inside her dripping cunt, making her thighs tremble uncontrollably. A fluffy black tail plug filled her anus, the soft fur brushing the backs of her legs with every tiny movement.
She was shaking.
She had been shaking for the last twenty minutes, ever since He Hao had whispered, "Mom, I'm hard. Come here—now."
She couldn't wait anymore. The addiction had become unbearable. Even with her husband five metres away, even with the football commentary blaring, she needed her son's cock more than air.
He Hao sat in the single armchair beside the sofa, legs spread, gaming shorts pushed down just enough to free his erection. The thick shaft stood angry red, veins pulsing, glans already slick and shining.
"Crawl," he ordered quietly, crooking a finger.
Qin Ya's breath hitched. A fresh gush of fluid slid down her inner thigh, soaking the carpet beneath her knees. Without hesitation she began crawling—slow, humiliated, apron riding up to expose everything. The tail swayed lewdly between her crimson-marked buttocks; the nipple chain dragged across the carpet, tugging her clamped buds with every movement. The egg inside her shifted, grinding against her frontal wall, forcing a muffled whimper from her throat.
He Jie glanced over, smirked, and casually picked up the vibrator remote from the coffee table. He clicked it one notch higher.
Qin Ya's entire body jerked. Her elbows buckled; she barely caught herself before her face hit the floor. A desperate, wet sound escaped her lips as the egg suddenly thrummed harder, sending lightning through her clit and up her spine.
She kept crawling until she reached her son's feet. Without being told, she lowered her head and used only her teeth to tug his shorts lower. The waistband caught on his cock, then snapped free; the shaft sprang up and slapped heavily against her cheek, leaving a glistening streak of pre-cum across her flushed skin.
He Hao threaded fingers through her hair, guiding her mouth down. Qin Ya opened wide—lips stretching, tongue flattening—and swallowed him to the root in one slow, worshipful descent. Her throat convulsed around the invasion; thick saliva immediately poured from the corners of her mouth, dripping in long strings onto his balls and the carpet.
Above her, the football commentator shouted about a goal. He Jie chuckled and took another sip of beer.
He Hao began moving her head—slow, deep strokes that made her gag softly each time his glans nudged the back of her throat. The egg inside her kept buzzing mercilessly; every swallow made it shift, grinding against her G-spot until her eyes rolled back. Tears and mascara streaked her cheeks; drool poured steadily now, forming a dark puddle beneath her.
After several minutes of this slow throat-fucking, He Hao pulled her off with a wet pop. Strings of saliva connected her swollen lips to his glistening cock.
"Turn around," he ordered, voice low but thick with lust. "Ride me. Reverse. I want Dad to see how addicted his wife has become."
Qin Ya was shaking so hard she could barely move. She turned on all fours, tail swaying obscenely, and backed up until she straddled his lap facing the TV. Reaching between her legs, she grasped his slick shaft and guided it to her entrance. The moment the head parted her soaked folds, she sank down—slowly, greedily—impaling herself inch by burning inch until her ass rested on his thighs and he was buried to the hilt inside her.
The sensation was overwhelming. The egg was pushed even deeper by his cock, trapped between his glans and her cervix, vibrating directly against both of them. Qin Ya's back arched; a broken, guttural moan tore from her throat. Thick cream immediately coated his shaft, dripping down his balls in sticky rivulets.
She began riding—slow, grinding circles at first, then desperate up-and-down thrusts that made wet, obscene squelching sounds fill the living room. Each downward slam forced the egg harder against her cervix; each upward pull dragged her slick walls along every vein of his cock. Her heavy breasts bounced wildly beneath the transparent apron; the nipple chain swung like a pendulum, tugging her clamped buds until they were dark purple and throbbing.
He Jie watched the match, but his free hand lazily played with the vibrator remote—clicking it higher, then lower, then higher again—making Qin Ya's rhythm stutter and break every time the intensity surged. She was openly sobbing now, hips rolling helplessly, cunt gushing with every grind.
"Please… Hao Hao… Mommy can't… need to cum… please…" she whimpered, voice cracking.
He Hao seized her hips and began thrusting upward—hard, punishing strokes that lifted her knees off the carpet with every impact. The tail plug jerked with every slam; the egg thrashed inside her like a living thing. Her cunt made loud, sloppy sounds—glurk-glurk-glurk—as cream frothed around the base of his cock and ran in thick streams down his thighs.
He Jie finally looked over, eyes gleaming. "Go ahead, son. Fill her up. She's earned it."
With a guttural growl He Hao slammed her down one final time and held her there. His cock pulsed violently; scalding semen erupted directly against her cervix—rope after thick rope flooding her already stuffed womb until it overflowed. The heat triggered Qin Ya's own climax: her cunt spasmed wildly, squirting clear fluid around his buried shaft in forceful jets that soaked his lap and the carpet. She screamed—raw, broken, animal—body convulsing so hard the nipple chain ripped from one ring, leaving her left bud free and bleeding slightly.
When it finally ended she collapsed forward, still impaled, face pressed to the carpet between He Jie's feet. Cum and cream poured steadily from her gaping cunt, pooling beneath her, the tail plug still swaying gently between trembling cheeks.
He Jie reached down, patted her sweat-soaked hair, and casually turned the vibrator off.
"Good girl," he murmured.
__________
Later that same night, long after the football match had ended and the house was silent, He Hao led his mother out to the car.
Qin Ya wore only a long black trench coat, belted loosely at the waist, nothing underneath except sky-high red stilettos and the black leather collar. Her nipples were still swollen and dark from the earlier abuse; the fresh piercing where the chain had torn free throbbed with every heartbeat. Between her legs she was still dripping, thick rivulets of her son's cum sliding down her inner thighs with every step.
The tattoo studio was in a quiet back street, booked exclusively for them after midnight. The neon sign flickered "OPEN" just for them. Inside, the artist—a tall, silent man covered in ink—had been paid triple and told exactly what would happen. He simply nodded when they entered.
He Hao unbelted the coat and let it fall. Qin Ya stood completely naked under the harsh white lights, skin glowing, collar gleaming, cunt and thighs glistening with the evidence of what had happened on the living-room carpet only hours earlier. The artist's eyes flicked over the fresh welts, the swollen nipples, the cum still leaking from her, then to the faint red outline already sketched just above her womb where the new tattoo would go.
"On the chair, Mom. Legs in the stirrups. Wide."
Qin Ya's entire body trembled with shameful excitement. She climbed onto the padded reclining chair, lay back, and placed her feet in the cold metal stirrups. He Hao himself spread her thighs as far as they would go and locked the restraints, leaving her completely open—cunt lips parted, clit swollen and peeking from its hood, the mixture of earlier loads still oozing slowly from her entrance.
The artist snapped on black nitrile gloves and began transferring the stencil. The design was large and deliberate: a perfect black spade ♠ the size of a fist, centred directly above her womb, and beneath it in elegant cursive script: "Hao Hao's Exclusive Property – Established 2025".
The first touch of the needle made Qin Ya gasp. The sharp buzz filled the room as the outline began.
He Hao stripped off his shirt and climbed onto the chair between her spread legs. His cock was already rock-hard again, slick with pre-cum. Without a word he gripped her hips and thrust into her in one forceful stroke.
The needle never stopped.
Every drag of the machine over her sensitive lower abdomen sent fire through her nerves. Every answering thrust from her son slammed his cock against her cervix, driving the earlier load deeper and forcing fresh cream to froth around the base of his shaft. The dual sensations—pain and pleasure fused into one unbearable wave—made her back arch off the chair as much as the restraints allowed.
"Stay perfectly still, Mom," He Hao growled, voice thick. "If you move too much the lines will be crooked and everyone will know what a bad slut you are."
Qin Ya sobbed, biting her lip until it bled, trying desperately to hold her hips steady while her son fucked her with long, punishing strokes. The artist worked steadily, the needle carving the spade's sharp edges into her skin while He Hao's cock carved into her cunt. Blood and ink mixed with her juices; every time the needle crossed a particularly tender spot her inner walls clenched violently around the invading shaft, milking him with greedy spasms.
Halfway through the outline He Hao pulled out, his cock glistening with her cream and streaks of his earlier cum, and flipped her over. The restraints were adjusted; now she was on her knees, chest pressed to the chair, ass high in the air, fresh tattoo exposed for the shading phase. The artist moved behind her without comment and resumed work while He Hao lined up with her ass and pushed into her cunt from behind in one slick thrust.
The new angle was devastating. His cock dragged across her frontal wall with every stroke, grinding the trapped egg from earlier (he had re-inserted it before they left) directly against her G-spot. The buzzing needle danced over the sensitive skin of her lower belly while her son's hips slapped loudly against her ass, forcing animalistic grunts from her throat.
Drool poured from her open mouth onto the chair. Tears and sweat dripped from her face. The scent of sex, ink, and antiseptic filled the small room.
"Tell him," He Hao commanded between thrusts, gripping her hair and yanking her head back. "Tell him who you belong to."
"I… I belong to my son…" Qin Ya sobbed, voice breaking as the needle traced the final letters. "This cunt… this body… everything… is Hao Hao's property forever…"
The artist finished the shading with a flourish. The black spade was perfect—bold, glossy, impossible to hide under any clothing. Beneath it the words looked elegant and filthy at the same time.
He Hao roared, slammed into her one last time, and came—scalding jets erupting directly against her womb, flooding her already overfilled cunt until thick white rivers poured out around his buried cock and ran down over the fresh plastic wrap now covering the tattoo. The heat against the raw skin made Qin Ya scream through another violent orgasm, her walls spasming so hard the artist had to steady the chair.
When he finally pulled out, cum gushed in a torrent, soaking the fresh ink and plastic, dripping in slow, obscene strands from her stretched hole to the floor.
He Hao gently turned her over, peeled back the plastic just enough to admire his work: the black spade glistening under a thin layer of his own semen, the elegant script already slightly swollen but perfectly legible.
He pressed a soft kiss directly onto the raw tattoo, tasting blood, ink, and his own cum.
"Now everyone who ever sees you naked will know exactly who owns this womb," he whispered.
Qin Ya, tears streaming, could only nod frantically, hips still twitching with aftershocks.
"Forever, Hao Hao… Mommy is yours… forever…"