Words: 2488

Prompt: Kyle [M18] is on monitor duty for his temporary part-time job as a security worker at his father's company and sees his mother [F45] and five men [27-40] stuck in the elevator.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cheating, masturbation, multiple orgasms, oral sex, anal sex, p-in-v sex, double penetration, semi public sex, cuckold-son, big black cock, voyeurism, pseudo-incest, mother-son incest, unprotected sex, hentai logic

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Kyle throws his head back. A long sigh leaves his lips. The teenager is bored. This is one of the most boring things he was ever obliged to do. Currently, he's in the surveillance centre of the Parker Tower, looking at some cameras. Someone could argue that this is an important job since, in a way, he's looking after the CEO's surveillance. Kyle, on the other hand, would argue that his father just wanted to find a way to ground him without actually using the word grounding because he almost -- ALMOST -- died in a car crash last week (he didn't know Dylan was high!). Plus, all the essential surveillance is done by the adults on the security team, anyway. All Kyle has are the visible cameras, the ones that everyone knows are there, like the ones in the corridors and lifts. He doesn't even have access to the hidden cameras in meeting rooms or not-so-secret passageways. And the CEO, whose surveillance he is supposed to be looking after, isn't even in the building. In other words, it's all just a fallacy to keep him quiet and bored to the bone in retaliation for having a lightly harmless temporary lapse of judgment ("Yes, Sam, his broken arm was a totally harmless outcome.").

With his mates and cousins (his dad wants to give them all a lesson) scattered around the building at 'strategic' points and one arm still bandaged, Kyle spins sluggishly in his chair. The blond tried to play video games, but gave up after dying for the fourth time in a row -- "How does Hans manage to play with only one hand?"

To make a boring day even more boring, the whole block seems to have a power problem. Kyle didn't pay attention to what the maintenance staff said about it, but it's something about a solar storm and system overload. Something boring that doesn't concern him (apart from the fact that the air-conditioning isn't working), since it doesn't cancel out the fact that he has to languish in that half-lit room with several drizzling televisions. Half the cameras aren't working, and the other half only have sound or image. The other guards who normally take care of surveillance are scattered around the tower trying to get a handle on the situation, and Kyle needs to speak to them over the radio to tell them which cameras have come back on and which have stopped completely.

It's a boring, tiring and tedious job. But Kyle does it anyway because he literally has nothing else to do.

The monitors in the centre left flicker and lose their image. It's one of the elevators. Kyle doesn't think much of it, everyone is ordered not to use the elevators during power problems. So for now he just ignores it. He continues his surveillance among the monitors. Most of the corridors are lit up, half the cameras have images and only three have sound. Outside, all the cameras are off, so no one enters or leaves without permission. The staircases are half-and-half. Kyle can see some people coming and going and disappearing into blind spots only to reappear two or three floors apart.

One of the blacked-out cameras makes a sound. It's one of the cameras in the elevators, the same one that went out minutes before. It's a female voice. Kyle recognizes the voice, but can't put a name to the face. Along with the female voice, there are male voices. Lots of them. People are trapped in the elevator. Kyle almost wants to scream. Everyone should know not to use the elevators until further notice, how did these people manage to get stuck? Kyle bangs his head on the table. Some days he hates his job (all the days, really, and it is only his fourth one).

The sound coming from the camera stops and Kyle raises his eyes to see that the screen on the centre-left has recovered the image but lost the sound. The blond doesn't know if this is good or bad. In the centre of the image, he sees his mother. His sweet, innocent mother is in the middle of five men from another branch. He recognizes Darius and Obo, but has no idea who the other guys are. They are all tall and strong, with their muscles bulging and their arms marked. They're handsome too. Their tanned skins contrast with Kyle's mother's pale complexion.

Kyle feels a sickly foreboding -- his stomach twists, and a lump forms in his throat. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm down. Because Helena is a strong, independent woman who would never be subjugated by anyone against her will. Kyle's mother can take care of herself, she doesn't need to be rescued by her son. What's more, Darius and Obo are old friends of his parents, they would never do anything to Helena -- right?

So Kyle continues to watch the images transmitted by that particular camera and ignores all the others (now and then, he answers something to his communicator, just to pretend that nothing is happening. Just to keep prying eyes away from what he's doing).

The thermostat is marking 35 °C, and the teenager can see their sweat glistening on the image. He can see how sweaty and sticky those six people are -- how wet they are.

On a normal day, Kyle will do anything that allows him to stay in the air conditioning as long as possible. On a day when half the city is without electricity, all he wants is to be working deep in the forest -- preferably, by the river or the waterfalls. If inside that room with a fan and two windows, Kyle thinks he's going to cook, he can only think of how his mother feels trapped in a tiny metal box with five other people that is slowly cooking them alive.

Kyle jerks off his clothes, peeling the damp material off his body. He reaches for his water bottle, almost empty and warm (it makes his stomach sick). Helena does the same, tugging the collar of her blouse down a little and consequently show off the tip of her breasts; she grabs a bottle of water from her bag, drinking almost all of it in one gulp -- a few drops fall on her chest, trailing down her cleavage and losing itself in the valley of her breasts.

One of the men says something, she smiles and hands him what's left of her water.

Helena then adjusts her clothes -- lifting her skirt just a little to let her body breathe, pumping a few bottoms of her blouse to let her voluminous boobs breathe.

Kyle doesn't know how to feel about this. His mother looks so helpless, like a gazelle drinking water in the river on the opposite bank from a lion. He wants to get her out of there, but the maintenance staff said that the solar storm will still go on for a few more minutes. Maybe half an hour or more, and the elevators are last on the list because nobody should be using them in the first place! The blond knows he should warn someone, should tell them that the CEO's wife is trapped in an elevator with five men. But he can't. Kyle can't bring himself to tell someone what's happening to his mother.

He breathes heavily. Kyle would never admit it out loud, but he is more like his father in certain ways than he would like. His inability to understand his feelings right away is one of them. He may seem impulsive and hot-headed, but that's because anger and impulsiveness are easy feelings to understand -- you either want to do something or you don't; you're either angry or you're not. There is no middle ground, and even if there is, it's much easier to understand than whatever Kyle is feeling right now.

The heat and burning and discomfort that started as something bad twisting his insides has turned into something he can't explain. It's a pressure in his parts that makes him hard and uncomfortable, that makes him feel shame and pleasure and guilt, and that makes him want to scream until his throat bleeds.

But screaming would bring attention to what he's doing -- no one can ever know what he is doing.

Screaming would bring attention to Kyle's mother alone with five big, strong, manly men -- they only need his attention.

Kyle watches as they talk. His mother smiles and laughs, she's charming, beautiful, seductive and hot. She touches one of the men on the arm, tracing his muscles through his wet t-shirt.

The elevator gives away a little.

Nothing dangerous, nothing that forces Kyle to take action, just enough to make Helena lose her balance and fall back against Darius, her fat ass rubbing his cock.

She says something. Even without a sound, Kyle knows it's a lame excuse. Lame because Helena doesn't move away. Instead, she remains pressed against Darius. Rocking against the cock of a man who isn't Kyle's father -- and the blond feels his need getting harder and more painful inside his tight pants.

Darius says something, and Helena laughs, and the image disappears.

Kyle bites his tongue to keep from screaming.

Unparalleled desperation takes hold of him, he punches the monitors hard until he manages to get them working again.

The sound comes first. It's the sound of flesh colliding with flesh, and low moans mingle with the other sounds -- swear words, Darius' name, wailing. Helena's voice is prominent in the middle of it all.

Kyle feels his erection grow more painful.

When the image returns, Kyle doesn't know how to react. Helena is pressed against the wall, and Darius is behind her, fucking Kyle's mother hard. His long, thick cock disappeared completely inside his mother's tight ass-hole. Helena also has the cock of one of the other dudes in her mouth -- he's one of the guys Kyle doesn't know, taller than Darius and with bright red hair. His cock is two of his father's and his mother swallows it all without bothering -- Yes, he knows what his dad's dick looks like. No, he won't talk about it.

Darius comes first, his scream is strangled, as if he's trying not to attract attention -- not working, mate. He fills Kyle's mother so full that Kyle can see his juice pouring out her butt-hole and running down her legs.

One of the others, this one with thick, black hair and darker skin, takes Darius's place behind her. He's fast and violent and desperate, smashing against her and shoving her harder against the elevator wall. But Helena doesn't complain, too pleased to bounce against his big, black cock.

The red-haired ejaculates in her mouth, and Helena swallows it all.

Obo says something to his black-haired friend, who pulls Helena to him by her hair, separating her from the wall. Obo then puts himself between Helena and the wall and fucks her cunt. With Obo in front and the black-haired man behind, Helena bites her lips and swallows her moans and screams and howls.

Obo's orgasm is quieter than Darius'. But the black-haired one is just as crude, having to hide his face in the crook of her back. However, Obo doesn't seem satisfied, he switches with his colleague and takes her from behind. With Helena all to himself, he's calm, patient -- a lover. He works with Kyle's mother, pleasuring her as much as she is pleasuring him. He fucks her with long, firm strokes while his friends watches and jerks themselves.

From the screams they bite out together, Kyle knows that they have come together.

But they're not satisfied yet, neither of them are -- especially not his mother.

One by one, Kyle watches as the five men fuck his mother. It's messy, and wrong. The space is too small, they're bumping each other -- they're all bumping his mother. Pulling her in all the directions, shoving their hard, wide, and thick black cocks deeper inside her -- Kyle can see the bulge of their shafts piercing her stomach.

They turn her into a cum dump -- coming hard inside her ass, her pussy, and her mouth, there is no place left unfilled. Kyle watches desperately as his sweet, innocent and hot, so fucking hot mother gets ravish by those men -- two of each are his dad's friends.

The pain between his legs gets worse -- the hopelessness and longing need that he wants to ignore, but which is stronger than him.

Kyle doesn't want to do it, but at the same time he is just a man, and the needing is stronger than his weak morality -- Fuck, he wants it, he wants it so much, gods, why is his mother so fucking hot? Why is his mother so beautiful when she has some guy's dick shoved down her throat? Why does her voice get even more mesmerising when she is moaning their names? Why can he be the one abusing her fat ass, and drawing those sounds of her, and turning her into his deposit cum?

When the men were done with fucking Kyle's mother in every possible way, and filling Helena's holes to the brim with their cum, they make make a circle, with Helena in the centre, kneeling down; they slap her face with their ginormous cocks, laughing when she whines and whimpers and begs for more.

Helena is red, and sweaty, and abused; she is wet, and nasty, and dirty, but not dirty enough -- No, she can still get dirtier.

The men take their shafts on their hands, stroking it desperately. Kyle starts masturbating along with them -- Kyle imagines himself in there, inside that cramped and small elevator, with his mother down on her knees in front of him, begging him to come on her face; he imagines her screaming his name, talking about how much better than those men he is, how much better than his father he is; imagines himself soiling her, and then making her lick his dirty cock; he sees himself taking her from behind, and castigating her sore ass, making it bounce against his pelvis; he can hear the sinful sound of his flesh smacking against hers, turning her big, thick bottom in nothing but a red and raw piece of meat; Kyle feels himself lost inside her cunt, shoving deeper and deeper inside her, so much that they would be able to see his bulge piercing through her stomach; Kyle feels himself coming inside his mother, filling her with so much cum that it runs down her legs.

Kyle bit down his orgasms, soiling himself and breathing hard.

On the display, the men cum on his mother's face, who drinks their cum like a hungry whore.

Half an hour later, when the elevator starts up again, no one but Kyle, Helena and those five men could say what happened inside that tiny elevator reeking of sweat and cum.