[tanuno] 🤪 My works, my belongings.

[tanuno]

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[tanuno]

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Spoiler: Inspired by...

 

[tanuno]

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A break for a burger?

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[tanuno]

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...Or a few drinks?

 

[tanuno]

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[OldGreyGeek]

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Mommy’s working on her PhD to become a professional bitch!​

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Not from experience you must understand, but puppy could use some socks

 

[tanuno]

Not from experience you must understand, but puppy could use some socks

Do you want me to lend you my mommy?
If you want, I’ll give her to you—but don’t show her any respect at all, okay?

 

[tanuno]

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Halloween is approaching, and Mommy still hasn’t decided what costume she’ll wear. This afternoon, she took advantage of some free time—before nightfall and before she has to head off to work at the brothel—to try on outfits, dressing up as either Wilma Flintstone or Betty Rubble.​

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Which costume do you prefer?​

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Spoiler: E X T R A S

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[tanuno]

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Spoiler: Bonus

 

[tanuno]

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[OldGreyGeek]

Really like this version of mom.

 

[tanuno]

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[tanuno]

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[tanuno]

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[OldGreyGeek]

Looks like AI got a little carried away

Does the retro-aging knock off like 30-years?

 

[tanuno]

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Looks like AI got a little carried away

Does the retro-aging knock off like 30-years?

A quirk of using AI: I don’t always use the same AI tool (though in this specific case, the one that generated the image *is* the same). Often, I’ll take an image and have another AI—or a combination of AI tools—analyze it to generate a prompt for me. That’s why there are sometimes variations.
However, if you look closely, you’ll see that the underlying bone structure remains the same—which makes sense, as human bone structure rarely changes much after the age of 18.

 

[tanuno]

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- Free adaptation by Poker Loss [assistantann] -

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(Narration by Tanuno’s mother)
Tanuno got home late after hanging out with his new friends from the soccer team, so I asked him, "How did it go, honey?"
He said, "I lost—big time."
I asked, "What happened? How much did you lose?"—hoping it wasn't a huge amount.
He replied, "They taught me how to play poker. We weren't playing for money—since I’m a beginner—but rather for 'stakes'—like having to do something or face a penalty. Oh, and we have to host the monthly barbecue here at our place next weekend." That didn't bother me at all; I love barbecues.
"But Mom, Dad won't be back—he’s still deployed—for another two months. Can we still have the barbecue?" my son asked, clearly worried about not being able to follow through on the 'penalty.'
I thought quickly and said, "Don't worry, Tanuno! We can set up some live cameras so he can join us. He’ll love the idea, baby."
"Yeah, Mommy!" "And tell him to spread the word to his friends, too—that way, they’ll have something to remind them of home amidst all that chaos over there."

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On the afternoon of the barbecue, just as I was about to head to my bedroom to get ready, Tanuno approached me and said that my punishment involved an outfit the guys had picked out. Finding it amusing, I asked, "So, what do *you* have to wear today?"—gesturing toward the box he was carrying. He replied that the outfit wasn't for him; it was for me. I gasped when I saw how tiny the swimsuit was—the one they expected me to wear. It was just a scrap of black fabric covered in sparkling rhinestones, with very little material to it—and even less in the back. "Why do I have to go to the barbecue in this slutty outfit when *you* were the one who lost?" I protested. He explained, "Those are the rules, Mommy."

Reluctantly, I laid the flimsy swimsuit on the bed, then took off my top and pulled down my shorts. I caught him looking at me—naked—and began to wonder if he’d left the game just to see me in something so provocative. I picked up the swimsuit and pulled it on. It fit perfectly, but it didn’t cover much.
"My breasts are going to pop out, and it doesn't cover my backside," I protested.
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As I stepped out of the bedroom, Tanuno was already waiting for me, ready to introduce me to his friends at the barbecue. He looked at me—in a way that reminded me of how his father looks at me—and said:
"You look gorgeous, Mom!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Shall we make an entrance?"
I tried to smile, feeling very exposed. "I’ll certainly make more of an entrance than you will," I said, heading out of the room. "But sure, let’s do it. Besides, your father called to say he’s already with his friends in the dining room, waiting for the barbecue broadcast."

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[tanuno]

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Upon entering the room, I was taken aback by the scene visible through the patio door. Several young men—not much older than Tanuno—had gathered for a party, but what struck me most was the cross they had set up in the middle of the garden. I know I must have looked concerned when I asked, "I suppose that cross is part of the bet, too, isn't it?"
He replied, "Yeah—sorry, Mom, but that’s how it is."
I just sighed and remarked, "And it looks like everyone’s already here."

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"Are you ready, Mom?" he asked.
I was thinking about my husband, who was watching the whole thing live with his friends. "No, but... they’re waiting," I replied, feeling nervous.
He opened the patio door and announced, "Here she is, guys—just like I promised: my mother, the whore!" He said it with what struck me as excessive enthusiasm—genuine, perhaps, but excessive nonetheless.
He took my hand as we walked toward the cross. "I can’t believe you’re actually going to tie me to that cross in front of everyone—though I’m sure your father is dying to jerk off while watching this spectacle," I said.
"No, dear Mom—don’t worry, we aren’t going to tie you to the cross," he answered.
I felt a moment of relief and let out a sigh: "Phew, thanks, baby! You really had me scared there—hee hee hee!"
What he said next left me frozen: "We’re going to nail you to it."
My heart skipped a beat, and all I could manage to say was, "Fuck!"

 

[tanuno]

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[tanuno]

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