Being Mom's Partner 1

Story by draconicon on SoFurry

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#10 of Paying Off Mom

Time for Iggy to go up in the world of whoring. Level-up: streetwalker to escort.

Commissioned by Kacacarrotcake

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Being Mom's Partner

Part 1

For Kacacarrotcake

By Draconicon

Days, weeks, and now months had passed since he had become a whore, and Iggy had never felt even a hint of regret at giving up the old life at the trade school. Something about being more in touch with his body, in giving satisfaction to other people, and making a living through raw pleasure just made him feel better about himself than almost anything else ever could. Accomplishment in the world didn't seem to matter so much. What did matter was the feeling of slippery seed in his ass, the sensation of getting fucked in the cock-slit, being able to tie that perfect knot that made him irresistible to the world...

And, above all, making his mom proud.

Iggy smiled as he crossed his legs at the back of the bus, feeling the plug inside him sliding back and forth as he got used to the feeling of being plugged again. The sensation of having someone's cock way in his asshole - some horse that had been dumped at the local college and was going nuts having to just use his hand again - had been nice, but it was that sloppy, messy, stretched feeling after that really got to the stingray. He liked that wet feeling. Reminded him of something, though he wasn't sure what.

Iggy leaned back, his white hair running down his neck, his two-toned purple flesh shining in the bus's late night lights. The driver looked back at him for a moment, and Iggy actually felt the urge to spread his legs a bit, to show off.

He resisted it, though. He was riding the pleasure-high of having just been fucked and paid, and he knew better than to give into that. One ride in the cop car to the drunk tank had been enough, thank you very much.

Instead, he just closed his legs, his thighs rubbing against each other. The long stockings that he wore, running all the way down to the high stripper heels that his mom had gotten him last month, were just perfect for showing off his legs. His cocks had completely retracted since the job, meaning that the tight rubber shorts he wore made him look even more like a stripper, or a whore.

Sure, he had something of a flat chest, but there were plenty of species where the chest stayed flat. He could enjoy that, show off, get the straight guys more interested in thinking that they were looking at a girl. He had done that more than once, taking them back and giving them something different.

A glorious stepping stone across the pond to bisexuality.

He'd heard a drag queen refer to themselves that way, and he had to admit, he rather liked the description of that for himself. He smiled, still feeling that heady rush of pleasure that came from doing a job well, and he rolled his head from one side to the other, still just happy and -

The bus hit a bump, and the plug jammed in a bit deeper. He groaned under his breath, savoring that feeling for a moment before slowly pushing it back down a little bit. It was just thick enough and heavy enough for him to really feel it, the bulge at the bottom dragging at his distended rim. The seed inside was on the verge of coming out before he sat down more forcefully, dragging the toy back him.

No need to make a mess in public, after all.

The bus reached his stop, and he reached up to pull the cord. The driver was still watching him so hard that the driver stopped before he even reached it. Iggy slipped almost all the way off his seat at that moment, having to grab the back of the seat in front of him.

"Sorry," the driver called back.

"Heh...thanks."

The stingray got to his feet, adjusting to the hum of the engine under the transparent shoes. He was glad that tonight hadn't involved a footjob; he doubted that the heels would have hidden that from the general audience.

As he walked by the driver, he could feel the older badger staring at his ass. He could see the questions in the other man's eyes.

Male or female? those eyes asked. He smiled. It was fun to keep them guessing.

Swaying his ass as he walked out the front door, he watched the bus drive off, and then kept walking. The dark streets were barely lit by the lights, but there was just enough to make it safe rather than leave one whipping their head about all the time to make out things in the dark and the shadows. He hummed to himself, click-clacking along with his long heels.

Mom's going to be happy with this paycheck.

Rich kids at the college were always good. While they had been banned from one due to his mother assaulting a student that had tried to assault him, there were plenty of other campuses. The stallion tonight had been rather generous, mostly because he'd thought that anal meant an extra payment to make it okay.

Iggy hadn't bothered to correct him. There was a certain honesty that you didn't use when you were with clients.

What should have been a $200 night had ended up being a $600 night, and that meant that he had extra to treat the pair of them. Sure, the take-out places were all closed for the night, but they could check their schedules, find out what was open for the pair of them tomorrow, and then go out on the town.

It had been rather long since they'd spent time like that out of the house. Anything that had been past the four walls that they lived in had been work, double-'dating' with those that didn't know that they were related, doing extra work to make sure that they got the best stuff that they could. The kitchen had been remodeled twice since they started working together, and Iggy had changed his room up to have part of it as a dungeon for practice. He didn't need it as much as he used to, though, and he was thinking of saving up to rent out a place somewhere else rather than keeping it in the house.

But all of that could be forgotten for the moment. He was almost home.

The front door was unlocked and there wasn't a second car in the drive, which meant that his mother was probably home and not seeing a client. He walked in, didn't hear the slap-slap sounds that would have meant that she was fucking, and shut the door behind him. As he locked it behind him, the smell of a rising custard caught his nose, and he groaned.

"Mom, you're going to make me faaaaat," he groaned.

"All the more money from the chubby-chasers, dear," she called from the kitchen. "Good night?"

"Really good."

"Stripper heels get some attention?"

"Oh, yeah. Guy picked me up while I was walking by the college. The whole street-walker thing really seems to get their attention."

"It usually does. Leave them by the door and come get your treat."

"Yeah, yeah..."

There was no point kicking off those shoes. They were too delicate to take that sort of treatment, and it really worked better to just lie them down rather than shove them around. He was careful with them, laying them against the wall before pulling off the stockings and putting the sheer things on top of them.

Hmmm...one more day.

Some clients liked them a bit smelly. Shrugging, he turned his back to the shoes and went to the kitchen, expecting to see his mother naked, and getting just that.

He smiled at the wide rump that his mom had. She had attracted many a man with that, and all her time in the kitchen had left her with a bigger rump than she used to have. Her butt in all the pictures around the house had been small, almost demure, but ever since she had become a single mom, she had started growing, and growing.

Hell, she probably likes being a whore so she can keep herself naked. Not that clothes would help her with that...

He rubbed his own ass through his rubber shorts, knowing that he was inheriting the family booty. It didn't quite push free of his shorts, but it was well on the way of getting too big for this pair. He was going to need a bigger size, soon.

"Going to keep staring at your mom, or going to come get dessert?" she asked.

"What are you making?"

"Bread pudding."

"Bread makes you fat," he quoted.

"Yes, and we both wear it well."

"Come on, mom. You're not getting fat."

"And neither are you, but curvy's good."

She'd already gotten down the bowls, and he started filling them. Getting a hefty helping of the soft, yet slightly savory dessert, he held the bowls out for her to start draping the custard over. It was vaguely fruit-scented, which meant that she had probably incorporated some pear juice or something into it. It was going to be good.

They retired to the living room, sitting on the couch together. He was about to sit down when -

"Ah ah."

"What?" he asked.

"No clothes in the house."

"Mom, I'm still plugged."

"And?"

"...I'll get a towel."

He rolled his eyes as she chased him off with a pair of chopsticks. Even with something like this, she always seemed to prefer to shovel food in with those rather than just use a fork and knife.

He grabbed a towel out of the hall closet and returned. Draping it over the couch, he made sure that it wasn't going to slip before grabbing his shorts by the waist and wiggling them down. Of course, his mom watched the whole time, the naked stingray smiling at him as her cocks started rising from between her legs.

And, of course, he didn't resist the opportunity to put on a bit of a show. He swayed his hips back and forth, allowing the weight that he'd put on in the ass to swing with him. The sensation of that little jiggle was nice, particularly with the solid bottom of the butt plug between the cheeks catching the jiggles.

It worked, too. His mom's cocks kept rising, and he could smell both them and the softer scent of her pussy in the air as he showed off. He started reaching back -

Smack.

Her tail caught his ass, and he jumped two feet in the air. He landed with a thump, blushing.

"Dessert first, then we can see if we want more."

"Tease."

"You know it."

He sat down, trying not to think about the pressure of the plug in him, or how loose his ass actually was around the metal bulge. It could easily slide out if he stopped paying attention to it, and he took a few deep breaths to focus himself on clenching around it rather than just sitting there without thought.

When he was sure that the horse seed filling him up wasn't going to come sliding out at the wrong position, he set to eating. The custard was sweet, and thick, but not too thick. It still had that flow to it, and it was perfect, not curdled, not underdone. Just...perfect.

"Mmmm..."

"So, good night?" his mom asked, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Very good. I got everything that I need for the next few days."

"That good, hmm?" she asked with a teasing smile. "Where are you taking me?"

"Well, that's up to you."

"Careful when you say that. That's when you really hose a client."

"Moooom."

"Heh, you know I'm right."

"And you know we haven't had a, you know, a date in weeks."

This time, it was her turn to blush. Iggy knew that they were supposed to hide at least a bit of their relationship, but with the upswing of the business lately, they had barely had the time to come together once a week and enjoy each other's bodies. The other stuff, going out and doing things, shopping together, and the other mom and son stuff, had fallen by the wayside. He missed it.

Particularly with how close they were. Closer than any client would have guessed, he imagined.

"I want to take you out somewhere."

"That'd be a little tricky, Iggy," she muttered. "I have work tomorrow."

"And the next day?"

"In the afternoon."

"What about the evening?"

"Well..."

"Mom...please?" he asked.

"You know the rules, Iggy. You don't break engagements with clients."

"Alright, so...how far out do we have to plan for this?"

"...Maybe three weeks?"

"Then pick a day. I'll keep it saved."

"...You really want this, don't you?" she asked.

"I love you, mom. I don't want to just...you know how I feel." He rubbed the back of his head, putting the bowl down. "I just...I don't want it to be just a thing we say. I want it to be a thing we feel. A thing we do, you know?"

"..."

"And I want to make sure that you don't have to do this. I want to be good enough for you."

"Oh, Iggy."

His mom slid across the couch, and before he knew it, he was hugged, his face all but pulled into her bosom. The soft warmth of her against him was nice, and even familiar, but he still sighed against her. She petted his head, stroking her fingers through his hair.

"Iggy, Iggy..."

"You're working so much...and it...either you're hiding bills from me, or you don't want to be with me. And I have to be better, either way..."

The high was dropping now, and it meant that he was starting to get a little weepy. He groaned, turning his head to the side so he didn't start crying on his mom's boobs. She didn't push him away, nor did she stop brushing his hair, but she didn't answer him.

That made him feel almost worse. It made him feel like he was right, that he wasn't quite as good as he thought he was. Was she trying to avoid him now that they were getting closer, or was he not covering as much of the bills as he thought he was? Either way, it meant that he was going to have to do better than he had been if he was going to make their lives better.

He slowly pulled his head back, sniffling slightly.

"Sorry. I didn't...I just worry."

"I know, Iggy. And you are good enough for me," she said.

"I...just wish I knew that for sure."

"Me saying it isn't enough?"

"You're working all the time. I miss you. I try and make jokes, to have fun, but..."

"But what?"

"But when you're fucking everyone but me, it feels like I'm just not doing well enough. Maybe I can..." He sighed. "Never mind. I'm going to bed."

"Iggy -"

"Night, mom."

He kissed her on the cheek, then hurried to the stairs, making his way up and going to his bedroom. She didn't follow him, though he half-wished that she had. There was too much between them at the moment, he supposed.

Throwing himself in bed, he pulled the blankets up and closed his eyes. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

Morning came, and with it came the sticky feeling of a butt plug that had been left in too long. He groaned at the slight sting that came with it, as well as the reminder of the lube that had dried against his pucker and had almost become glue, instead. Iggy rolled to the side, dragging himself out of bed and hobbling towards the bathroom.

Pulling the plug free in the manner of someone pulling off a bandaid, he tossed it into the sink and made his way to the toilet. The usual cramps of having had something in his ass all night, mostly liquid, followed, and he sighed as he got comfortable. This stage usually took quite a while.

As his guts emptied themselves of everything that had been pumped into them the night before, he wondered if he had overstepped things with his mom. He knew that she was busy, and he knew that not all of what she did was done for the sake of bills. Some of it was just because she was...

Well, he knew that his mom was a whore. And he knew that she was something of a nympho. She had a voracious appetite, and he doubted that any one man - or woman - could have sated it. It wasn't necessarily that he wasn't good enough. Nobody was good enough to keep her satisfied on their lonesome.

But that didn't mean it didn't sting when she always went to other people and only came to him when others had had their fill first. It meant that he had to go and do his business with others, too.

Fun with pleasure...but not with the right person.

Iggy sighed, groaning as his guts complained again, and then shifted from side to side. The little squeak and slide from below was never pleasant, but today was worse than usual. Guilt, probably.

When it was done, he showered, and once clean, dried himself off. There was no point in clothes. That rule was still in force.

As he walked down the stairs, he found his mother waiting for him in the living room. She didn't look like she'd slept much through the night, and he felt a pang of guilt as he looked at her. He paused at the top of the stairs, wondering if it was too late to head back to his room, only for her to wave at him.

"Hey...come here."

"Mom, look -"

"Iggy, please. Come here."

There was a 'please' this time, which meant that she was definitely feeling something from last night. He bit off a sigh, continuing down the stairs. He felt awkward, like he had done something wrong, when he knew that, for once, he hadn't. It was just...weird.

Sitting across from her on the other end of the couch, he leaned forward a little, resting his hands on his knees and trying not to tap his feet. His mother watched him, her eyes a little baggy.

Did she get any sleep last night?

The answer didn't look to be positive. She rubbed her face, the older stingray sighing as she rubbed her eyes afterward.

"You're right," she muttered.

"What?"

"You're right. Things are a little...tight."

"What do you mean? All the money we're bringing in -"

"This one's my bad," she said. "I got a little...overexcited with the kitchen."

"...How bad?"

"Um...you know the bill I showed you?"

"The one for fifty-thousand dollars in renovations?"

"...Yeah, that was half of it."

His jaw dropped. No wonder his mom had been pushing herself so hard lately. No wonder she had been fucking her ass off at all hours of the day and night. She had been trying to make up for a hell of a differential.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just..." She sighed. "I did the mom thing. I'm sorry. I should have let you know."

"So it's not..."

"It's not you. It's never been you."

"..."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I'd scared you with it that much." She smiled, weakly, but still a smile. "I'll be more open from now on."

"Thanks, but...how do we make things better from here? That's a lot of money, isn't it?"

"It is. And I can't keep up this pace," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Your mom's good, but I can't go forever. Nobody can."

"Let me help. I can find more clients, or -"

"Heh, it'll take a little more than just more street-walking, Iggy. You'll need to do more than that if you want to help."

"Of course I want to help."

"I mean, really, really want to help." She looked up at him properly. "I know I don't take this that seriously most of the time, hon, but if you want to help on this level, it's going to be...different. You have regulars, and you go street-walking for more, but that's all stuff that you can eventually walk away from. If you go further, there's going to be people that know you for a whore for a long time. You're going to have to start taking it with a bit more class...but with just as much ass," she said, trying to make a joke and obviously knowing it was falling flat. "If you don't want this, if there's anything that you don't want in the job, this is the time to stop. Trust me, I'd understand. I like doing it with you, but -"

"Mom."

Iggy got up from the couch, making his way to her. She scooted over, making room for him, and he slowly wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Mom, I'm glad you got me into this. I mean...I prefer you -"

"Oh, you..."

"No, I mean it. I prefer you. You're better. But I like the 'job.' I like this sort of work."

"..."

"I want to make things better for you. For us. I want it to be good again."

She didn't answer immediately, and he reached down, making her look up at him properly. The two stingrays stared into one another's eyes for a time, until he leaned in and kissed her.

It was a short thing, but loving. He pulled back, smiling.

"What do you need?"

"Well, first, a longer kiss."

"And second?"

"I'll tell you after the kiss."

They made out for nearly a half-hour, surprised that they had that sort of stamina for it. They were both more used to the physical side of sex, yes, but there was something that they had almost forgotten in the lip-locked, tongue-swapping side of things. They pressed together tightly for the duration of their play together, and only came apart when something in the kitchen beeped.

"Goddammit," his mother muttered.

"Do you need to get that?"

"Yeah...one second..."

She got up, and he adjusted himself. He was quite a bit harder after that than he had been before they started, and he didn't want to be thinking with his dicks while they were going through this. It was fun, don't get him wrong, but it was still serious.

What kind of steps could be next?

It was a good question, but not one that he had an answer to. He was curious what his mom would tell him.

After a few minutes, she returned, shaking her head and tossing a hand towel back to the kitchen. Knowing her, it probably landed perfectly folded on the counter, waiting to be used again.

"Sorry about that."

"No problem. So...what now?"

"You're going to go from whore to escort, dear. It's a bit of a jump, and it requires a little more class and elegance, but it can be much more profitable."

"Does that mean I stop having sex?"

"Hmmm, yes and no," she said, sitting down beside him. "You'll be having it with less people, but you'll probably be having more with those individuals."

"What's the difference between this and having regulars?"

"Vetting. And talent-scouting. And the general income that they tend to have."

"What is this, escorting or getting a sugar daddy?"

"Daddies, Iggy, daddies. You want a stable of these."

The idea of having multiple partners like that, all of which would be paying more, felt relatively impossible. He cocked his head to the side until his mom pulled something out from behind the couch.

It was a little black book, trimmed with gold along one side and with not that many pages inside. His mother held it out.

"Once you fill this up, guard it with your life."

"Why? What's it for?"

"It's everything."

"..."

"Your clients, your favorites, their preferences, everything. It will be what you keep as a record of what to hold over them. And more than that, what you do to make them happy. What their schedule is, what their travel times are. It will be far, far, far more in-depth than anything that you have done so far."

"Nobody's worth that much work."

"They are when they give you as much as these men will."

"Why? What did they pay you?"

"Adjusted for inflation? $2k a night."

His jaw just about fell off its hinges as he imagined his mother getting paid that much. More, the sheer idea of what she might have had to do for that just about blew his mind. She chuckled.

"Don't worry. People with that money know what they're buying. They're looking for quality, and as long as they get it, they won't want to break you."

"But...but what if..."

"If you aren't quality?" She smiled. "You are."

"But what if I'm not good enough?"

"You'll find out when they stop returning your calls."

And then the word would spread, he realized. They'd start looking down at him, talking about how he wasn't worth it, how they didn't get what they needed. There would be an old boys club about this, something that kept them informed on the sort of whores worth their time.

No. Escorts. He needed to remember the new term.

He looked down at the book again, slowly opening it. It was detailed, if small. He could fit a lot of different pieces of information in there, from the species and age of a client down to their special little requests. It was extensive, to put it mildly, even down to what the blood type of a client would be.

If I have to know that, that's gonna be scary...

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Did you...do you still have one?"

"Sadly, my richest clients moved on."

"Why?"

"I stopped for too long. And now, they have things to hold over me. They'd force discounts if they ever heard that I was back in the business, but still expect the same level of service."

"..."

"I told you. Once you're in, you're in, but if you ever leave...well, let's just say that it's lucky that I've never tried to run for any public office, heh."

He hadn't even thought of that, but now that she mentioned it, he realized that this went both ways. The escort would have power over those that they were interacting with, and the person hiring them would have power over the rest of their lives, able to expose them and threaten them with the law at any time.

Lucrative, but risky.

Yet, at the same time, he knew that there was no way that he could turn this down. This was the way that he could help his mom. This was the way that he could make it better. This was the way...

This was the way that he could make her happy. He wanted her to be happy. He needed her to be happy.

"I'll do it," he said.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright...thank you, Iggy. This...this will help a lot."

They hugged, though not for long this time. He already had the feeling that he had something else that needed doing, and she confirmed it as soon as they let go.

"I'll set up a meeting with someone that I trust. You should be able to get your first client in the notebook by the end of the day."

"You think it'll work out?"

"If you're half as good as I think you've become? No doubt in my mind at all."

"...Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome, dear. Now, go find something sexy. Understated, if you can."

"Understated...that'll be hard."

"Try, dear."

She patted his arm, and he hustled up to his room. Something understated? That cut out at least half the options in the closet, though he imagined that there were a few things still there that might work. He would just have to find them.

As he rooted through his outfits, he started wondering if this was the best idea. He was effectively deciding to be a whore for the remainder of his employable life. Even if he'd liked it so far, was this really worth it?

All he had to do was think of his mother's face, of the way that she smiled when he said that he'd help, and he knew that it was.

The End

Summary: Time for Iggy to go up in the world of whoring. Level-up: streetwalker to escort.

Tags: M/solo, M/H, nudity, crossdressing, rubber, plug, anal plug, anal, creampie, high heels, series, stingray, prostitution,