AUA: Start easy, just make her strip to her underwear.
From Create Your Own Story
You can't bring yourself to command your mother to get naked outright. But at the same time, she is bound to this arrangement. You just can't not take advantage of it to some degree.
"Well..." you say, struggling with your words a little, "maybe just strip to your underwear? I just want..."
Your mother sighs and smiles. "Sweetheart, you don't have to go easy on me. I want you to think these things through, but please don't agonize over it. If you really want something, just tell me to do it. All I'm saying is be sure you want it before you ask, okay?"
"O-okay," you stammer. "I s-still want you to strip to your underwear, though."
"Okay sweetie," she says, lifting her shirt up to show her midriff. Though not athletic by any stretch, your mother kept in fair shape, giving her a soft, shapely form without bordering on chubby. She stops short of lifting it over her bra, saying, "Now take a deep breath and relax." She sounds more okay with this than you expected. "I don't want my baby passing out from excitement." She pulls her shirt up and off, revealing a plain white bra pressing her sizable breasts into impressive cleavage. She lets you look for a brief second before, to your surprise, turning around and pulling her shorts down, bending over in the process. She wasn't trying to be sexy by sticking her ass out or anything, but she was obviously trying to provide you with a view of her cheeky white panties. Standing and spinning back around, she cocks a hip to one side and places her hands on her hips, giving you a grin. "Well, buddy? Is it everything you hoped?"
You mutter an affirmative sound, staring at her body. Barring only the faintest of stretch marks from her pregnancy with you, she was astoundingly perfect, as if she was right out of one of your naughty dreams. You ask her to turn around one or two more times, which she does without a word.
Finally, after a few minutes, she asks, "Satisfied?"
"Yes," you say soundly. You're really starting to feel comfortable with this power, and really beginning to trust your mother will actually do whatever you ask. It's a good feeling, not doubting yourself.
"Glad you liked it," she says. She reaches for her discarded shirt, but you reflexively reach out and make a quick sound. She stops midway through picking her top up, bent over forward, cleavage front and center. "What is it now?" she asks.
