I will post a few preliminary chapters of the story I am currently writing. It's certainly an ENF story. I typically finish a story completely before publishing it. However, I'd be open to some collaboration or feedback as I go. I have already written 17 chapters, but the editing process takes a long time so I only have one chapter for you (As of 6/23/23).
Call Me Misty: Misty has three teenage sons and a daughter. She's an independent woman with a sassy, fun demeanor. She catches her eldest son stroking to bondage porn. He is mortified but she doesn't see the big deal "everybody does it" . Offering to prove to him that she is a good sport and showing some interest in the pictures - she points out they have a Cherry Picker in the garage and asks to see what it feels like to be tied up.
Genre: ENF/Domestic Discipline
Codes: Ma/Fa, mt/Fa, Consensual, DomSub, Humiliation, Spanking, Polygamy/Polyamory, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Petting, Sex Toys, Tit-Fucking, Big Breasts
Sex Contents: Some Sex
Call Me Misty (WIP)
-
EddieDavidson
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Fri Jun 23, 2023 2:38 pm
- Been thanked: 57 times
- Contact:
Call Me Misty (WIP)
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Sat Jun 24, 2023 3:21 am, edited 1 time in total.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
-
EddieDavidson
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Fri Jun 23, 2023 2:38 pm
- Been thanked: 57 times
- Contact:
Chapter 1
“Let us in; I am not kidding!!” my mom demanded from outside of the house as she pounded angrily on the door.
It was a hot, muggy Saturday. My brothers and I had deadbolted the front and back doors as a prank. We did things like this all the time to my mom and sister. They pranked us back, too. They knew we weren't being serious.
“I’ve got to pee!” my mom was so frustrated with us she almost laughed. My brothers James and Trent were giggling and looking at me to see if we should let them in. I am the oldest of my siblings, but I do not claim to be the leader.
We’re technically step-brothers. We have different dads, but all of us share the same mother.
My mom’s name is Misty. She doesn’t go by Ms. Hunter. She goes by Misty, and she is the type of person that would even let her own kids call her Misty. We didn’t, but she was the type to have let us do it if we wanted.
She’s got tattoos; she’s loud and gregarious. She’s always “on” if you know what I mean - quick to anger but quick to laugh, quick to forgive. Misty laughs the hardest when she is laughing at herself. Right now, she and my sister Hope were not laughing.
Hope is blonde, but she dresses in all purple and black. I suppose you could call her a “Goth/Emo” girl. You know the type that likes to wear dog collars, Doc Martens, and velvet dresses while listening to angry Indy rock?
Hope is nine months younger than me, but some people think she and my mother are sisters. That’s partly because Hope acts mature (sarcastic) and developed early, and she’s got pumpkin-sized tits and a big butt.
In many ways, My mother and sister are QUITE similar, but in others, Hope and Misty are polar opposites. Hope was seething on the other side of the door. She didn’t bother to yell at us because she knew we wanted to hear her plead and beg.
“Just break a fucking window,” Hope suggested to my mom. I knew my sister wasn’t seriously going to do that.
“Yeah, are you going to pay for it?” she put on a nix on that idea. “Guys, it’s not funny! We are about to pee ourselves!!” she pleaded.
“That would be funny,” James laughed.
“It will be funny when I squeeze my jeans into a glass and force you to choke on my piss, James!” Hope threatened. She wouldn’t actually do that, but I knew we’d probably face some repercussions.
My mom wasn’t the type to ground us or do traditional parenting and discipline. She’d find a way to get even later. It was fun, and we expected it.
We finally let them in, and I ran off to my room to let things cool down while Mom and Hope dashed to the bathroom.
I am a Junior in high school, and like most boys my age, I have an extensive (four gigabytes) collection of porn saved on my laptop. I have videos, stories, pictures – you name it. I like all kinds of stuff, but lately, I have been really into bondage and specifically Shibari rope bondage.
I was whacking it to some videos of Japanese women being tied up, suspended, and delightfully tortured and humiliated by their Japanese masters. I had my pants down around my ankles, and I was super close to finishing myself off as I pounded my cock.
“MIKE! MIKE HUNT?”
Oh, I forgot to mention. I have the unenviable name of Michael Hunt, AKA Mike Hunt. My Dad was the joker who insisted on that being on my birth certificate. My mom’s last name is Misty Hunt, and my Dad wasn’t married to her when I was born. He thought it would be absolutely hilarious if I grew up to be called Mike Hunt. Dad promptly left my mom 3 months after I was born and then skipped out on child support and visitation for most of my life.
She normally calls me Michael, just like everyone else. However, when she is pissed off – she calls me Mike.
I was reaching for my pants when she barged into my room. I had one hand still on my cock because I was seconds away from blowing my load. I was red-faced and in a state of panic.
“Hah-hah-hah, are you beating your meat? Oh fuck, this is hilarious,” My mom nearly doubled over in laughter. She was about to rip me a new one, but when she found me in the middle of pounding my pud, she couldn’t stop laughing.
She’s nearly caught me before, but this was the first time she found me “red-handed.”
My mom is hot – I mean, she’s very attractive. She looks about 29 years old if you ask me. She has a great, outgoing personality. However, she has the WORST taste in men. She loves guys who are 6’5”, just out of prison, has a long collection of DUIs – that sort of thing. She’s tried to date ‘nice guys,’ but I think they bore her to tears, and they just don’t fit her personality.
My mother hasn’t dated anyone seriously in over a year and a half. She doesn’t think much of clothes around the house. She didn’t walk around butt naked, but she wouldn’t think twice about wearing just a long t-shirt or a pair of panties and a bra.
“What do you want?” I said as I reached for my blue jeans in frustration.
“Oh, you can keep going. I think you were almost finished,” she laughed.
My brothers and I share a room, and we often go around in shirtless or in just underwear in our room. We sometimes walk around that way around my sister and mom. It’s never been a huge deal. I was mortified now, and there was no way I was going to crank my nuts in front of my mother.
“Can you get out, please?” I begged.
“Oh, you wanted to hear me beg earlier. I think you can do better than that,” Mom laughed as she came over and examined my computer screen. There was no point in trying to close my browser tabs. I had 18 other tabs opened to porn.
“Bondage? Your Dad was into this stuff,” she said as she examined the screen with interest. “I never really understood the appeal. You are a lot like him, you know?”
I didn’t want to have this talk right now, and I didn’t appreciate being compared to a deadbeat asshole.
“He also had to open a bunch of browser tabs until he found the perfect image or video to jerk off to,” she doubled over in laughter. Mom put her hand on my shoulder. I flinched, and my cock spasmed. I was covering it with my hand. I was still relatively hard.
“Oh gosh, it’s perfectly natural, Michael. I am just jerking your chain. Everybody plays with themselves,” Mom assured me that she was just teasing playfully. She still found my predicament amusing. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”
“Why didn’t you KNOCK?”
“You know I never knock, and besides, I was angry with you,” Mom’s anger had turned into gentle amusement.
“How would you like it if I walked in on you while you were trying to get busy?”
“Get busy? Who says that? Who are you? Arsenio Hall?” Mom chuckled.
“Who is Arsenio Hall?” I said as I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. My bare ass was sticking to the chair.
“It’s just some guy from before you were born who used to be on television,” My mom explained dismissively. “I wouldn’t care if you walked in on me. Your punishment would be you’d have to see me all splayed out, squirting and queefing.”
My mom imitated someone who was spasming and made puppy-burpy noises. “You are a very quiet masturbater. You were really concentrating when I walked in. Let me see what got you so hot and bothered,” she teased playfully.
I asked her not to look at my computer, but obviously, if you know my mom, you know she is going to look at it anyway. I was completely humiliated now. She’d probably think I was king of the deviants when she saw but it was too late to close out of all of the tabs that I had open.
“Milf porn? I’ve never understood Milf porn. Why look at a woman my age when there are young hot girls with perfect bodies,” Mom said dismissively. “Oh wow, look at this. These elaborate knots and ropes. Now, this is almost art.”
Misty admired the intricate rope bondage of two women. They were suspended by ropes overhead and standing on chairs with their legs spread wide. Their tits were bound tightly, and that forced them to get engorged. “Are they sisters?”
“No, they are just Asian women. They look alike,” I said. The two oriental women had light brown skin, rounded faces, and jet-black hair cut the same way. “They could be sisters. I don’t know.”
“Do you think they get paid for something like this? Or do you think they do it for the excitement?”
I had never thought about the motivations of the women in the videos that I got off on before. There were some corny videos with obviously bad plots, but others were amateur porn that looked like it was made in somebody’s home. “One of them is probably married to the guy who filmed this. I’ve seen her in all of his videos.”
“Oh wow, so you are sort of an aficionado on this sort of stuff?” Mom was half-joking. I consider myself a Fetish connoisseur. “How many videos does this guy have?” Mom scanned through the site.
“I’ve seen about sixteen of his videos. He usually ties her up and then tortures her for a few hours. You can watch most of it for free on different porn sites.”
“Then they do not do it for the money. I guess if she ever gets kidnapped, she’d probably give the kidnapper some notes,” My mom laughed. She was about to go to another tab called “EverythingButts.com,” and I stopped her.
“Mom? Can we have this conversation later, PUH-LEEZE? I’ll give you some of the URLS if you really want to check these out.”
“Oh right,” my mom looked down at my hand. My cock was still fully hard, and I had pre-cum on my fingers. “Do you know how to tie women up like this?”
I had never tied up with anyone. I had dated a few girls, but I was by no means a billy-bad ass when it came to women in real life. What was I going to say? I lied and said that I knew about it. I didn’t think that my mom would ask me to prove it.
“Would you be willing to tie me up, so I could try it? We’ll call it even? I saw you. You saw me.”
I was floored. I couldn’t believe my mom was asking me this question. I also couldn’t believe she was asking while I had my cock in my hand and my pants around my ankle.
“Look, It’s really not that big of a deal, Michael. I walked in you stroking it. I am not going to do that in front of you, but I’ll let you tie me up if you want to show me how this is done. I’ve always said I’ll try anything once – well I haven’t tried this.”
“Why not get some dude to do it?” I suggested she find a guy her own age.
“I do not mean to put you in an awkward situation,” Mom replied apologetically. Then she realized just how awkward things were when she looked down at my hard dick. I was hiding the tip of my cock from her. “I mean, you are already in an awkward situation, obviously. Look, forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, I’m already humiliated. I am just curious why would you ask me when you could get any guy to tie you up?”
“You know the kinds of douchebags that I date. The last guy tried to fuck Hope behind my back,” Mom admitted. I did not know that, but that track with what I knew about him. “I can’t trust them as far as I can throw them. I’ve had guys talk about tying me up in bed. Then when it comes time to roleplay or whatever, they just want to get their cocks sucked and leave.”
“Not snuggle?”
“Snuggle? I do not want to snuggle, either,” my mom laughed at the outrageousness of the suggestion.
“Aftercare,” I explained. I had read that was the time when, after a very intense, erotic session that the dominant gave affection to the submissive so that she didn’t experience sub-drop. I did not explain that to my mom.
“Never mind, I do not know what I was thinking. I am probably just a little horny and a little lonely, and these pictures are really kind of hot. I am sorry for asking,” Mom was genuinely apologetic.
I felt like the book was about to close on this story before it began. I quickly pulled my jeans up. “I’d love to tie you up,” I said boldly.
“Where?” she asked.
“Around your boobs and stuff,” I answered.
She laughed and clarified that she was asking about where we could do this. I hadn’t thought it out, but I planned to tie my mother up in the room.
“We could do it in the Batcave,” my mom suggested. That was her name for our garage. She had a folding card table with six chairs that dominated the center of the garage. She parked outside on the driveway. Mom also had a mini-fridge out there. She often sat and smoked with the garage door open. “It’s kind of like those videos in there. There is an old cherry picker that an ex of mine left here.”
I did not know what a cherry picker was. My mom explained it was what she called this red crane that has been taking up space for the last five years. It’s used to lift engines out of cars. “I have called Larry to come and take it, but the dumb fuck just left it. I am probably not too fat for that,” mom laughed.
My mom was stacked but far from chubby.
I quickly ascertained that my mother wanted to recreate the scene from the video that I was watching as closely as possible. She wanted a dungeon setting, and the garage was perfect.
“We’re not going to be able to keep this a secret from the others,” I reminded her. I was ecstatic about this opportunity. It was strange and unexpected but exciting as well. I did not want to jinx.
“I didn’t think we would,” Mom frowned at me like that would be obvious. “I don’t care if they see. I am sure your brothers jerk it to porn too. I am sure they will want to come in when you’ve got me hanging up there.”
I did not discuss my porn interests with my brothers, but my mom was probably correct. Mom explained there was no use in trying to keep it a secret. They’d find out one way or the other.
Misty acted nonchalantly as we left my room. I tried to contain my enthusiasm so Mom didn’t freak out.
“How long can we do this for?” she asked as we walked through the living room.
“The sessions usually last 45 minutes to an hour,” I said.
“Guys, don’t get bored watching that long?”
I did not want to admit that I usually fast-forwarded to the good parts or left it playing in the background while I pounded one out.
“Hey guys, I am going to be a little tied up in the garage. There is lunch meat in the fridge if you want a sandwich,” my mom half-joked with my brothers and sister when she entered the living room.
Hope was livid. She had her hand planted on her chin and was giving our brothers the cold shoulder.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
We walked into the garage, and I shut the door. I warned my mom that I did not have any bondage implements.
“There are all kinds of household items that I am sure will work,” Mom said as she started digging through the stacked boxes in the garages. It was kind of a disorganized mess. We’ve lived in the same house for years, but mom never really unpacked from the last place we lived. She pulled out some rope. It was stiff and coated in silicon, like the kind you use to tie up boats to the dock. She handed me some duct tape and said that it had a million uses.
“It didn’t look like that guy had a bunch of dildos and expensive sex toys. It was just an empty room with ropes hanging from the ceiling and four chairs. It was kind of terrifying, like something out of the movie Saw.”
“Garage door open or closed?” I asked as I scanned the garage for things that I might be able to use.
“I’ll warn you right now,” Mom explained. “I am the kind of female that sweats, gets a little sloppy wet, and squirty. I can’t do this clothed. Is that okay?” she asked as she started to remove her shirt.
“Obviously, garage door closed then,” I replied nervously as my mom’s tits came into view. She hadn’t been wearing a bra under her shirt. She had a few tattoos on her arms, including an ornate tattoo that covered her right shoulder.
“I saw your pecker; I guess it’s only fair,” Mom said as she unsnapped her denim shorts and shimmied out. “That’s how it’s done, right?”
“Yes,” I pretended that I had a full plan and that my mother disrobing was always on the agenda. I had honestly thought I’d tie her up over her clothes until I saw her standing there naked.
“I do not have to shave my pubes for this?” she asked. My mom had shaved a Y-shaped patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair. She had the letter “M” tattooed off to the side of her pussy. The end of the letter M on her tattoo had a devil’s tail attached to it.
I’d seen the tattoo she had when she wore panties or bikini bottoms, but I’d never had a chance to really look at it before. It definitely made my mom seem really naughty. She grinned enthusiastically and seemed excited to get started. “I’ve always wanted to do whips and chains before. This is going to be fun. How do you want me?”
Mom was all ready to get started. I wasn’t sure what to do. I had my phone with me, and I was quickly Googling how to tie Shibari knots. I’ve seen a LOT of bondage porn, but I hadn’t ever looked upon them as instructional videos.
“Clear off the area under the cherry picker,” I demanded. My mom looked at the junk and scraps that had collected around the machine with disdain. “I am not your slave, though, right? I do not have to do work like cooking and cleaning. Or call you Sir, right?”
“No,” I shook my head, which wasn’t required.
Mom seemed happy about that and bent over at the waist without a thought for her modesty. My mom wasn’t shredded, but she had a very muscular back. I immediately noticed her amazingly large and well-rounded butthole.
Misty complained that she had old answering machines and outdated USB cords that she was never going to use. “I should probably throw some of this crap away,” she lamented. When she noticed I wasn’t helping, she stopped and looked over her shoulder at me.
I was admiring my mother’s incredible asshole. It was so large and well-rounded. She could tell I was looking.
“Yes, I know my butthole looks weird,” she shrugged as if it was not that big of a deal.
“That’s it’s really big?” I didn’t mean to make that observation.
“No,” Mom sighed. “That I have a freckle on my asshole that looks like a speck of shit, and the skin is really dark and makes it look like I didn’t wipe. The giant butthole is a new thing that nobody told me about.”
My mother appeared self-conscious and tried to get a better look. “Do you want me to take a picture and let you see?”
“Would you take some pictures of me when I get tied up? Maybe I can put them on a dating site,” she chuckled. My mom admitted that she realized this was really surreal and asked me if I was really comfortable going through it.
“I am here, aren’t I?”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Mom smiled and cleared out the boxes eagerly.
“Stand on these chairs,” I stalled so that I could read up on the basics of Shibari rope bondage. I placed the chairs really far apart under the cherry picker.
“Wow, you want me really spread out,” Mom observed as she tried to ascend the chairs. Her thighs were quite muscular, but her legs shook with the effort it took to stabilize herself.
“I want you in a vulnerable position so that I have your entire attention,” I said. I was reading from the website introduction, but my mother didn’t notice.
“Is this supposed to be relaxing or terrifying?”
“A little of both,” I said.
“Oh, cool!”
Mom giggled when I first applied the rope to her midsection. The Shibari manual made it clear that the center of the body was the “support” for everything else. I wrapped the rope around two or three times to make sure that it was tight.
Misty made angry faces but stood there and let me touch her while I tied her up.
“Are you upset?”
“No, I have a resting bitch face,” Mom joked that she just naturally looked angry. “Please continue. This is neat,” she admitted.
The Shibari guide had a lot of safety tips about how to tie knots appropriately, and I took my time wrapping the cords around my mother’s tits until they became fully bound. I had to accidentally touch her fat nipples a few times. She didn’t say anything about it.
“This takes a long time,” was her observation after about 10 minutes of me fumbling to get her shoulders bound to the metal struts of the cherry picker that were over her head. “No wonder these videos go for 45 minutes.”
“You in a hurry?” I probably sounded annoyed. I wasn’t annoyed with my mother. I was annoyed with myself. I had done and undone the bondage half a dozen times because I was afraid that it wouldn’t hold her body weight if I removed the chairs.
I was fortunate that the garage had a high ceiling, and we had this metal cherry picker that I could use to tie her to it. It was very sturdy, and there was no way it was going to fall over on its own with my mother’s weight.
Hope walked into the garage. She was going to ask my mom for something. She stopped in her tracks. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Getting tied up,” Mom replied as if she was getting her hair braided or her nails done.
“I can see that. Why?”
“I don’t know, Hope. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try. You are into Goth stuff. Do you want to try it?”
OMG! My mom offering an opportunity to be tied up to Hope hit me like a ton of bricks. I have always had a rivalry with my sister. She and I have the same father. We used to be really close, but now we are rivals. I had no malice about tying my mother up, but I think I was already thinking about making the knots EXTRA tight if my sister said she was interested.
“Absolutely!” Hope’s jubilant response sent thrills through my body. I guess that’s why they call her “Hope” because she loves to get people’s hope up and then dash them. “Fucking not!” she added with a sardonic glare.
My brothers overheard and were now drawn to see what was happening. I didn’t want to share this experience with them. I knew that James and Trent might try to take over or make it even weirder.
“Can you let me borrow one of your collars, then?”
“Why?” Hope asked with scorn in her voice.
“Make it seem authentic. Dress the part, you know?” Misty shrugged.
My brothers were laughing as they entered the garage and saw my mom’s legs quivering as she stood with her legs spread and balanced on two chairs spaced out as far as possible. Her tits were engorged now and starting to fill with blood. She had rope between her legs, around her shoulders and mid-section.
It was kind of a mess of knots and tangles and not at all the elegant and elaborate rope work we had seen on the computer.
My brothers were shocked and dismayed but also quite amused by my mother’s predicament. She explained it to them the same way she had my sister.
“Can we help?” Trent asked.
“Do you know how to tie someone up?” Mom asked.
“No,” Trent shrugged.
“It doesn’t look like Michael does either,” Hope joked. She was right. I had made a bit of a mess of things. However, I did not appreciate her being critical of me.
“Can you do better?” Mom defended me. She saw that I was a little crestfallen and decided not to dogpile on me with Hope.
Hope and my mom often fought like cats and dogs, but they frequently joined forces to ridicule me and my brothers (when we ganged up on one of them). I was glad this wasn’t one of those times.
“No, but can I snap some pictures of this?” Hope laughed gayly while pulling her cell phone out.
“Sure, I’d love to have some pictures if you will let me borrow a collar,” my mom asked.
I was surprised that Hope acquiesced and went to her room to retrieve one of her collars. She had dozens of them. She had spiky ones, lacey ones, and ones that looked like they came straight out of a hair metal band rock video from the 1980s.
I was surprised when Hope brought back a simple stainless-steel collar. My brothers were admiring my mother’s situation when Hope returned and showed it to us. I had never seen her wear it before. It was a single, non-ornate stainless-steel ring.
“Why not one of your leather ones?” my mom seemed disappointed at first.
“I do not want you sweating all over my collar,” Hope said as she approached our mom. Misty was already drenched in a fine sheen of her own sweat that oiled her body up. The garage had been hot with the doors closed.
“Can you put it on me? I am a little tied up,” Mom joked that she had her arms bound and couldn’t put it on herself.
Hope groaned and then sighed like she was being annoyed. However, I knew that despite her body language, Hope was just as intrigued by this spectacle as the rest of us. My sister arranged another chair from the table next to her mom and stood on it. She put it around her neck.
“Oh, Jeez. Does it snap on or lock on?” Mom asked as she stood helplessly while Hope put the collar around her neck.
“Locks on,” Hope replied as she locked the small lock in the back. It gave the collar the look that it was a single unbroken circle.
“Hopefully, it has one of those safety buttons I can press to open automatically if you accidentally lose the key,” my mom lamented.
“Oopsie,” Hope pretended to toss the key away before getting down from the chair. She teased my mother by snapping photos with her phone. My mom couldn’t have hidden from the camera even if she wanted to, but she didn’t protest. She smiled and made goofy faces.
“Here, let me take the chairs away and get a few shots of you choking to death before your neck snaps,” Hope joked. She had a very dark sense of humor.
“Very funny,” my mom seemed annoyed, but she didn’t seem scared.
Once Hope failed to get a rise out of my mother, she lost interest and left the four of us. Misty said she knew that Hope would get bored quickly. My brothers, on the other hand, were now seated on the remaining chairs around the folding card table in the center of the garage.
“Are you guys just going to watch or help?” my mom asked my younger brothers. They seemed intimidated and confused as much as they were amused.
“What do you want us to do?” they asked my mom and me.
“I don’t know,” Mom admitted before explaining that she was pretty well tied up. She demonstrated by trying to move her arms. “What does the guy do to the women in the video you watched?” my mom asked.
The guys chuckled because now they knew I watched porn. I scolded them for laughing and said I knew they watch porn as well. That shut them up. “He had a second girl, so he stands them titty to titty, nose to nose, and mouth to mouth and makes them kiss.”
“Well, that would be fun,” my mom admitted. It was the first that I heard she liked other women. I have to admit; I was hiding a boner in my pants for most of this session. “We don’t have another girl, so do you want to just take away the chairs?”
I couldn’t believe how bold my mother’s question truly was. I could imagine her choking to death, just as my sister had described. I was afraid. I admit – I was not confident that my knots would hold her body weight.
“We could spank you,” James suggested brazenly. I felt like that was going too far. My mom had been a good sport and wanted to try bondage. Even though Misty is an extrovert, she was probably deeply humiliated and just really good at hiding it.
“This is Michael’s game, and he is the one who did all of the work to get me tied up. You can’t just come in here now after he spent 30 minutes working on me and have all the fun. You can ask Michael, but I wouldn’t blame him if he says no way.”
I nearly choked on my tongue. My mom was an adventurous woman, but she had just volunteered to be spanked. Trent and James looked at me expectantly to see how I would respond to the notion of sharing my mother with them.
“We’ll take turns,” I said. My throat felt dry, and I was nervous. I was genuinely feeling overwhelmed by the sense of authority I now had over my mother, but also a responsibility not to go overboard. I approached my mom. She looked nervous, almost like she was surrendering to me.
The stainless-steel collar made her look genuinely submissive, even though she was always wise cracking. There was something really sensual about how she looked at me. I was certain I was reading something into it.
I took one of the chairs away and pulled it away slightly. My mom had to extend her toes so that she could support her body weight. I took my time pulling it away until her foot hung down, and she groaned.
I observed her body spasm and her face harden in pain. I had not put rope anywhere near my mom’s throat or windpipe. The safety tips in the article I read had been explicit about that. My mother’s tits were pulled up so that her nipples now pointed to the ceiling. The rope acted like a pully, and as her body weight naturally acted as a counterbalance it forced her up higher. I took the other chair away just as slowly.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Mom slowly spun like a fly that had been caught in a web and knew that it was futile to expend energy struggling.
“Oh my god, you are hurting Mom,” Trent shouted in anger.
“That’s the idea, Trent. That’s why he suspended me. It’s fine,” my mom offered a calm explanation. “It’s bondage, with whips and chains,” she said.
“Where are the whips? And the chains?” James asked skeptically.
“I guess we don’t have all that stuff,” my mom admitted. “We are kind of making do with household objects.”
I found a fly swatter and hit my mom’s butt with it. It made a satisfying sound. My mom literally laughed at that like it was a joke. She suggested that I use my hand.
My boner protruded in my pants, there was no hiding the bulge. I jizzed a little pre-cum into my underwear. I had no underlying sexual attraction to my mother. However, the fact that she was bold enough to suggest I use my bare hand to spank her bare butt – that turned me on! It made me feel guilty, but it also made me horny.
It was a hot, muggy Saturday. My brothers and I had deadbolted the front and back doors as a prank. We did things like this all the time to my mom and sister. They pranked us back, too. They knew we weren't being serious.
“I’ve got to pee!” my mom was so frustrated with us she almost laughed. My brothers James and Trent were giggling and looking at me to see if we should let them in. I am the oldest of my siblings, but I do not claim to be the leader.
We’re technically step-brothers. We have different dads, but all of us share the same mother.
My mom’s name is Misty. She doesn’t go by Ms. Hunter. She goes by Misty, and she is the type of person that would even let her own kids call her Misty. We didn’t, but she was the type to have let us do it if we wanted.
She’s got tattoos; she’s loud and gregarious. She’s always “on” if you know what I mean - quick to anger but quick to laugh, quick to forgive. Misty laughs the hardest when she is laughing at herself. Right now, she and my sister Hope were not laughing.
Hope is blonde, but she dresses in all purple and black. I suppose you could call her a “Goth/Emo” girl. You know the type that likes to wear dog collars, Doc Martens, and velvet dresses while listening to angry Indy rock?
Hope is nine months younger than me, but some people think she and my mother are sisters. That’s partly because Hope acts mature (sarcastic) and developed early, and she’s got pumpkin-sized tits and a big butt.
In many ways, My mother and sister are QUITE similar, but in others, Hope and Misty are polar opposites. Hope was seething on the other side of the door. She didn’t bother to yell at us because she knew we wanted to hear her plead and beg.
“Just break a fucking window,” Hope suggested to my mom. I knew my sister wasn’t seriously going to do that.
“Yeah, are you going to pay for it?” she put on a nix on that idea. “Guys, it’s not funny! We are about to pee ourselves!!” she pleaded.
“That would be funny,” James laughed.
“It will be funny when I squeeze my jeans into a glass and force you to choke on my piss, James!” Hope threatened. She wouldn’t actually do that, but I knew we’d probably face some repercussions.
My mom wasn’t the type to ground us or do traditional parenting and discipline. She’d find a way to get even later. It was fun, and we expected it.
We finally let them in, and I ran off to my room to let things cool down while Mom and Hope dashed to the bathroom.
I am a Junior in high school, and like most boys my age, I have an extensive (four gigabytes) collection of porn saved on my laptop. I have videos, stories, pictures – you name it. I like all kinds of stuff, but lately, I have been really into bondage and specifically Shibari rope bondage.
I was whacking it to some videos of Japanese women being tied up, suspended, and delightfully tortured and humiliated by their Japanese masters. I had my pants down around my ankles, and I was super close to finishing myself off as I pounded my cock.
“MIKE! MIKE HUNT?”
Oh, I forgot to mention. I have the unenviable name of Michael Hunt, AKA Mike Hunt. My Dad was the joker who insisted on that being on my birth certificate. My mom’s last name is Misty Hunt, and my Dad wasn’t married to her when I was born. He thought it would be absolutely hilarious if I grew up to be called Mike Hunt. Dad promptly left my mom 3 months after I was born and then skipped out on child support and visitation for most of my life.
She normally calls me Michael, just like everyone else. However, when she is pissed off – she calls me Mike.
I was reaching for my pants when she barged into my room. I had one hand still on my cock because I was seconds away from blowing my load. I was red-faced and in a state of panic.
“Hah-hah-hah, are you beating your meat? Oh fuck, this is hilarious,” My mom nearly doubled over in laughter. She was about to rip me a new one, but when she found me in the middle of pounding my pud, she couldn’t stop laughing.
She’s nearly caught me before, but this was the first time she found me “red-handed.”
My mom is hot – I mean, she’s very attractive. She looks about 29 years old if you ask me. She has a great, outgoing personality. However, she has the WORST taste in men. She loves guys who are 6’5”, just out of prison, has a long collection of DUIs – that sort of thing. She’s tried to date ‘nice guys,’ but I think they bore her to tears, and they just don’t fit her personality.
My mother hasn’t dated anyone seriously in over a year and a half. She doesn’t think much of clothes around the house. She didn’t walk around butt naked, but she wouldn’t think twice about wearing just a long t-shirt or a pair of panties and a bra.
“What do you want?” I said as I reached for my blue jeans in frustration.
“Oh, you can keep going. I think you were almost finished,” she laughed.
My brothers and I share a room, and we often go around in shirtless or in just underwear in our room. We sometimes walk around that way around my sister and mom. It’s never been a huge deal. I was mortified now, and there was no way I was going to crank my nuts in front of my mother.
“Can you get out, please?” I begged.
“Oh, you wanted to hear me beg earlier. I think you can do better than that,” Mom laughed as she came over and examined my computer screen. There was no point in trying to close my browser tabs. I had 18 other tabs opened to porn.
“Bondage? Your Dad was into this stuff,” she said as she examined the screen with interest. “I never really understood the appeal. You are a lot like him, you know?”
I didn’t want to have this talk right now, and I didn’t appreciate being compared to a deadbeat asshole.
“He also had to open a bunch of browser tabs until he found the perfect image or video to jerk off to,” she doubled over in laughter. Mom put her hand on my shoulder. I flinched, and my cock spasmed. I was covering it with my hand. I was still relatively hard.
“Oh gosh, it’s perfectly natural, Michael. I am just jerking your chain. Everybody plays with themselves,” Mom assured me that she was just teasing playfully. She still found my predicament amusing. “Why didn’t you lock the door?”
“Why didn’t you KNOCK?”
“You know I never knock, and besides, I was angry with you,” Mom’s anger had turned into gentle amusement.
“How would you like it if I walked in on you while you were trying to get busy?”
“Get busy? Who says that? Who are you? Arsenio Hall?” Mom chuckled.
“Who is Arsenio Hall?” I said as I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. My bare ass was sticking to the chair.
“It’s just some guy from before you were born who used to be on television,” My mom explained dismissively. “I wouldn’t care if you walked in on me. Your punishment would be you’d have to see me all splayed out, squirting and queefing.”
My mom imitated someone who was spasming and made puppy-burpy noises. “You are a very quiet masturbater. You were really concentrating when I walked in. Let me see what got you so hot and bothered,” she teased playfully.
I asked her not to look at my computer, but obviously, if you know my mom, you know she is going to look at it anyway. I was completely humiliated now. She’d probably think I was king of the deviants when she saw but it was too late to close out of all of the tabs that I had open.
“Milf porn? I’ve never understood Milf porn. Why look at a woman my age when there are young hot girls with perfect bodies,” Mom said dismissively. “Oh wow, look at this. These elaborate knots and ropes. Now, this is almost art.”
Misty admired the intricate rope bondage of two women. They were suspended by ropes overhead and standing on chairs with their legs spread wide. Their tits were bound tightly, and that forced them to get engorged. “Are they sisters?”
“No, they are just Asian women. They look alike,” I said. The two oriental women had light brown skin, rounded faces, and jet-black hair cut the same way. “They could be sisters. I don’t know.”
“Do you think they get paid for something like this? Or do you think they do it for the excitement?”
I had never thought about the motivations of the women in the videos that I got off on before. There were some corny videos with obviously bad plots, but others were amateur porn that looked like it was made in somebody’s home. “One of them is probably married to the guy who filmed this. I’ve seen her in all of his videos.”
“Oh wow, so you are sort of an aficionado on this sort of stuff?” Mom was half-joking. I consider myself a Fetish connoisseur. “How many videos does this guy have?” Mom scanned through the site.
“I’ve seen about sixteen of his videos. He usually ties her up and then tortures her for a few hours. You can watch most of it for free on different porn sites.”
“Then they do not do it for the money. I guess if she ever gets kidnapped, she’d probably give the kidnapper some notes,” My mom laughed. She was about to go to another tab called “EverythingButts.com,” and I stopped her.
“Mom? Can we have this conversation later, PUH-LEEZE? I’ll give you some of the URLS if you really want to check these out.”
“Oh right,” my mom looked down at my hand. My cock was still fully hard, and I had pre-cum on my fingers. “Do you know how to tie women up like this?”
I had never tied up with anyone. I had dated a few girls, but I was by no means a billy-bad ass when it came to women in real life. What was I going to say? I lied and said that I knew about it. I didn’t think that my mom would ask me to prove it.
“Would you be willing to tie me up, so I could try it? We’ll call it even? I saw you. You saw me.”
I was floored. I couldn’t believe my mom was asking me this question. I also couldn’t believe she was asking while I had my cock in my hand and my pants around my ankle.
“Look, It’s really not that big of a deal, Michael. I walked in you stroking it. I am not going to do that in front of you, but I’ll let you tie me up if you want to show me how this is done. I’ve always said I’ll try anything once – well I haven’t tried this.”
“Why not get some dude to do it?” I suggested she find a guy her own age.
“I do not mean to put you in an awkward situation,” Mom replied apologetically. Then she realized just how awkward things were when she looked down at my hard dick. I was hiding the tip of my cock from her. “I mean, you are already in an awkward situation, obviously. Look, forget it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, I’m already humiliated. I am just curious why would you ask me when you could get any guy to tie you up?”
“You know the kinds of douchebags that I date. The last guy tried to fuck Hope behind my back,” Mom admitted. I did not know that, but that track with what I knew about him. “I can’t trust them as far as I can throw them. I’ve had guys talk about tying me up in bed. Then when it comes time to roleplay or whatever, they just want to get their cocks sucked and leave.”
“Not snuggle?”
“Snuggle? I do not want to snuggle, either,” my mom laughed at the outrageousness of the suggestion.
“Aftercare,” I explained. I had read that was the time when, after a very intense, erotic session that the dominant gave affection to the submissive so that she didn’t experience sub-drop. I did not explain that to my mom.
“Never mind, I do not know what I was thinking. I am probably just a little horny and a little lonely, and these pictures are really kind of hot. I am sorry for asking,” Mom was genuinely apologetic.
I felt like the book was about to close on this story before it began. I quickly pulled my jeans up. “I’d love to tie you up,” I said boldly.
“Where?” she asked.
“Around your boobs and stuff,” I answered.
She laughed and clarified that she was asking about where we could do this. I hadn’t thought it out, but I planned to tie my mother up in the room.
“We could do it in the Batcave,” my mom suggested. That was her name for our garage. She had a folding card table with six chairs that dominated the center of the garage. She parked outside on the driveway. Mom also had a mini-fridge out there. She often sat and smoked with the garage door open. “It’s kind of like those videos in there. There is an old cherry picker that an ex of mine left here.”
I did not know what a cherry picker was. My mom explained it was what she called this red crane that has been taking up space for the last five years. It’s used to lift engines out of cars. “I have called Larry to come and take it, but the dumb fuck just left it. I am probably not too fat for that,” mom laughed.
My mom was stacked but far from chubby.
I quickly ascertained that my mother wanted to recreate the scene from the video that I was watching as closely as possible. She wanted a dungeon setting, and the garage was perfect.
“We’re not going to be able to keep this a secret from the others,” I reminded her. I was ecstatic about this opportunity. It was strange and unexpected but exciting as well. I did not want to jinx.
“I didn’t think we would,” Mom frowned at me like that would be obvious. “I don’t care if they see. I am sure your brothers jerk it to porn too. I am sure they will want to come in when you’ve got me hanging up there.”
I did not discuss my porn interests with my brothers, but my mom was probably correct. Mom explained there was no use in trying to keep it a secret. They’d find out one way or the other.
Misty acted nonchalantly as we left my room. I tried to contain my enthusiasm so Mom didn’t freak out.
“How long can we do this for?” she asked as we walked through the living room.
“The sessions usually last 45 minutes to an hour,” I said.
“Guys, don’t get bored watching that long?”
I did not want to admit that I usually fast-forwarded to the good parts or left it playing in the background while I pounded one out.
“Hey guys, I am going to be a little tied up in the garage. There is lunch meat in the fridge if you want a sandwich,” my mom half-joked with my brothers and sister when she entered the living room.
Hope was livid. She had her hand planted on her chin and was giving our brothers the cold shoulder.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes.
We walked into the garage, and I shut the door. I warned my mom that I did not have any bondage implements.
“There are all kinds of household items that I am sure will work,” Mom said as she started digging through the stacked boxes in the garages. It was kind of a disorganized mess. We’ve lived in the same house for years, but mom never really unpacked from the last place we lived. She pulled out some rope. It was stiff and coated in silicon, like the kind you use to tie up boats to the dock. She handed me some duct tape and said that it had a million uses.
“It didn’t look like that guy had a bunch of dildos and expensive sex toys. It was just an empty room with ropes hanging from the ceiling and four chairs. It was kind of terrifying, like something out of the movie Saw.”
“Garage door open or closed?” I asked as I scanned the garage for things that I might be able to use.
“I’ll warn you right now,” Mom explained. “I am the kind of female that sweats, gets a little sloppy wet, and squirty. I can’t do this clothed. Is that okay?” she asked as she started to remove her shirt.
“Obviously, garage door closed then,” I replied nervously as my mom’s tits came into view. She hadn’t been wearing a bra under her shirt. She had a few tattoos on her arms, including an ornate tattoo that covered her right shoulder.
“I saw your pecker; I guess it’s only fair,” Mom said as she unsnapped her denim shorts and shimmied out. “That’s how it’s done, right?”
“Yes,” I pretended that I had a full plan and that my mother disrobing was always on the agenda. I had honestly thought I’d tie her up over her clothes until I saw her standing there naked.
“I do not have to shave my pubes for this?” she asked. My mom had shaved a Y-shaped patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair. She had the letter “M” tattooed off to the side of her pussy. The end of the letter M on her tattoo had a devil’s tail attached to it.
I’d seen the tattoo she had when she wore panties or bikini bottoms, but I’d never had a chance to really look at it before. It definitely made my mom seem really naughty. She grinned enthusiastically and seemed excited to get started. “I’ve always wanted to do whips and chains before. This is going to be fun. How do you want me?”
Mom was all ready to get started. I wasn’t sure what to do. I had my phone with me, and I was quickly Googling how to tie Shibari knots. I’ve seen a LOT of bondage porn, but I hadn’t ever looked upon them as instructional videos.
“Clear off the area under the cherry picker,” I demanded. My mom looked at the junk and scraps that had collected around the machine with disdain. “I am not your slave, though, right? I do not have to do work like cooking and cleaning. Or call you Sir, right?”
“No,” I shook my head, which wasn’t required.
Mom seemed happy about that and bent over at the waist without a thought for her modesty. My mom wasn’t shredded, but she had a very muscular back. I immediately noticed her amazingly large and well-rounded butthole.
Misty complained that she had old answering machines and outdated USB cords that she was never going to use. “I should probably throw some of this crap away,” she lamented. When she noticed I wasn’t helping, she stopped and looked over her shoulder at me.
I was admiring my mother’s incredible asshole. It was so large and well-rounded. She could tell I was looking.
“Yes, I know my butthole looks weird,” she shrugged as if it was not that big of a deal.
“That’s it’s really big?” I didn’t mean to make that observation.
“No,” Mom sighed. “That I have a freckle on my asshole that looks like a speck of shit, and the skin is really dark and makes it look like I didn’t wipe. The giant butthole is a new thing that nobody told me about.”
My mother appeared self-conscious and tried to get a better look. “Do you want me to take a picture and let you see?”
“Would you take some pictures of me when I get tied up? Maybe I can put them on a dating site,” she chuckled. My mom admitted that she realized this was really surreal and asked me if I was really comfortable going through it.
“I am here, aren’t I?”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Mom smiled and cleared out the boxes eagerly.
“Stand on these chairs,” I stalled so that I could read up on the basics of Shibari rope bondage. I placed the chairs really far apart under the cherry picker.
“Wow, you want me really spread out,” Mom observed as she tried to ascend the chairs. Her thighs were quite muscular, but her legs shook with the effort it took to stabilize herself.
“I want you in a vulnerable position so that I have your entire attention,” I said. I was reading from the website introduction, but my mother didn’t notice.
“Is this supposed to be relaxing or terrifying?”
“A little of both,” I said.
“Oh, cool!”
Mom giggled when I first applied the rope to her midsection. The Shibari manual made it clear that the center of the body was the “support” for everything else. I wrapped the rope around two or three times to make sure that it was tight.
Misty made angry faces but stood there and let me touch her while I tied her up.
“Are you upset?”
“No, I have a resting bitch face,” Mom joked that she just naturally looked angry. “Please continue. This is neat,” she admitted.
The Shibari guide had a lot of safety tips about how to tie knots appropriately, and I took my time wrapping the cords around my mother’s tits until they became fully bound. I had to accidentally touch her fat nipples a few times. She didn’t say anything about it.
“This takes a long time,” was her observation after about 10 minutes of me fumbling to get her shoulders bound to the metal struts of the cherry picker that were over her head. “No wonder these videos go for 45 minutes.”
“You in a hurry?” I probably sounded annoyed. I wasn’t annoyed with my mother. I was annoyed with myself. I had done and undone the bondage half a dozen times because I was afraid that it wouldn’t hold her body weight if I removed the chairs.
I was fortunate that the garage had a high ceiling, and we had this metal cherry picker that I could use to tie her to it. It was very sturdy, and there was no way it was going to fall over on its own with my mother’s weight.
Hope walked into the garage. She was going to ask my mom for something. She stopped in her tracks. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Getting tied up,” Mom replied as if she was getting her hair braided or her nails done.
“I can see that. Why?”
“I don’t know, Hope. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try. You are into Goth stuff. Do you want to try it?”
OMG! My mom offering an opportunity to be tied up to Hope hit me like a ton of bricks. I have always had a rivalry with my sister. She and I have the same father. We used to be really close, but now we are rivals. I had no malice about tying my mother up, but I think I was already thinking about making the knots EXTRA tight if my sister said she was interested.
“Absolutely!” Hope’s jubilant response sent thrills through my body. I guess that’s why they call her “Hope” because she loves to get people’s hope up and then dash them. “Fucking not!” she added with a sardonic glare.
My brothers overheard and were now drawn to see what was happening. I didn’t want to share this experience with them. I knew that James and Trent might try to take over or make it even weirder.
“Can you let me borrow one of your collars, then?”
“Why?” Hope asked with scorn in her voice.
“Make it seem authentic. Dress the part, you know?” Misty shrugged.
My brothers were laughing as they entered the garage and saw my mom’s legs quivering as she stood with her legs spread and balanced on two chairs spaced out as far as possible. Her tits were engorged now and starting to fill with blood. She had rope between her legs, around her shoulders and mid-section.
It was kind of a mess of knots and tangles and not at all the elegant and elaborate rope work we had seen on the computer.
My brothers were shocked and dismayed but also quite amused by my mother’s predicament. She explained it to them the same way she had my sister.
“Can we help?” Trent asked.
“Do you know how to tie someone up?” Mom asked.
“No,” Trent shrugged.
“It doesn’t look like Michael does either,” Hope joked. She was right. I had made a bit of a mess of things. However, I did not appreciate her being critical of me.
“Can you do better?” Mom defended me. She saw that I was a little crestfallen and decided not to dogpile on me with Hope.
Hope and my mom often fought like cats and dogs, but they frequently joined forces to ridicule me and my brothers (when we ganged up on one of them). I was glad this wasn’t one of those times.
“No, but can I snap some pictures of this?” Hope laughed gayly while pulling her cell phone out.
“Sure, I’d love to have some pictures if you will let me borrow a collar,” my mom asked.
I was surprised that Hope acquiesced and went to her room to retrieve one of her collars. She had dozens of them. She had spiky ones, lacey ones, and ones that looked like they came straight out of a hair metal band rock video from the 1980s.
I was surprised when Hope brought back a simple stainless-steel collar. My brothers were admiring my mother’s situation when Hope returned and showed it to us. I had never seen her wear it before. It was a single, non-ornate stainless-steel ring.
“Why not one of your leather ones?” my mom seemed disappointed at first.
“I do not want you sweating all over my collar,” Hope said as she approached our mom. Misty was already drenched in a fine sheen of her own sweat that oiled her body up. The garage had been hot with the doors closed.
“Can you put it on me? I am a little tied up,” Mom joked that she had her arms bound and couldn’t put it on herself.
Hope groaned and then sighed like she was being annoyed. However, I knew that despite her body language, Hope was just as intrigued by this spectacle as the rest of us. My sister arranged another chair from the table next to her mom and stood on it. She put it around her neck.
“Oh, Jeez. Does it snap on or lock on?” Mom asked as she stood helplessly while Hope put the collar around her neck.
“Locks on,” Hope replied as she locked the small lock in the back. It gave the collar the look that it was a single unbroken circle.
“Hopefully, it has one of those safety buttons I can press to open automatically if you accidentally lose the key,” my mom lamented.
“Oopsie,” Hope pretended to toss the key away before getting down from the chair. She teased my mother by snapping photos with her phone. My mom couldn’t have hidden from the camera even if she wanted to, but she didn’t protest. She smiled and made goofy faces.
“Here, let me take the chairs away and get a few shots of you choking to death before your neck snaps,” Hope joked. She had a very dark sense of humor.
“Very funny,” my mom seemed annoyed, but she didn’t seem scared.
Once Hope failed to get a rise out of my mother, she lost interest and left the four of us. Misty said she knew that Hope would get bored quickly. My brothers, on the other hand, were now seated on the remaining chairs around the folding card table in the center of the garage.
“Are you guys just going to watch or help?” my mom asked my younger brothers. They seemed intimidated and confused as much as they were amused.
“What do you want us to do?” they asked my mom and me.
“I don’t know,” Mom admitted before explaining that she was pretty well tied up. She demonstrated by trying to move her arms. “What does the guy do to the women in the video you watched?” my mom asked.
The guys chuckled because now they knew I watched porn. I scolded them for laughing and said I knew they watch porn as well. That shut them up. “He had a second girl, so he stands them titty to titty, nose to nose, and mouth to mouth and makes them kiss.”
“Well, that would be fun,” my mom admitted. It was the first that I heard she liked other women. I have to admit; I was hiding a boner in my pants for most of this session. “We don’t have another girl, so do you want to just take away the chairs?”
I couldn’t believe how bold my mother’s question truly was. I could imagine her choking to death, just as my sister had described. I was afraid. I admit – I was not confident that my knots would hold her body weight.
“We could spank you,” James suggested brazenly. I felt like that was going too far. My mom had been a good sport and wanted to try bondage. Even though Misty is an extrovert, she was probably deeply humiliated and just really good at hiding it.
“This is Michael’s game, and he is the one who did all of the work to get me tied up. You can’t just come in here now after he spent 30 minutes working on me and have all the fun. You can ask Michael, but I wouldn’t blame him if he says no way.”
I nearly choked on my tongue. My mom was an adventurous woman, but she had just volunteered to be spanked. Trent and James looked at me expectantly to see how I would respond to the notion of sharing my mother with them.
“We’ll take turns,” I said. My throat felt dry, and I was nervous. I was genuinely feeling overwhelmed by the sense of authority I now had over my mother, but also a responsibility not to go overboard. I approached my mom. She looked nervous, almost like she was surrendering to me.
The stainless-steel collar made her look genuinely submissive, even though she was always wise cracking. There was something really sensual about how she looked at me. I was certain I was reading something into it.
I took one of the chairs away and pulled it away slightly. My mom had to extend her toes so that she could support her body weight. I took my time pulling it away until her foot hung down, and she groaned.
I observed her body spasm and her face harden in pain. I had not put rope anywhere near my mom’s throat or windpipe. The safety tips in the article I read had been explicit about that. My mother’s tits were pulled up so that her nipples now pointed to the ceiling. The rope acted like a pully, and as her body weight naturally acted as a counterbalance it forced her up higher. I took the other chair away just as slowly.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” Mom slowly spun like a fly that had been caught in a web and knew that it was futile to expend energy struggling.
“Oh my god, you are hurting Mom,” Trent shouted in anger.
“That’s the idea, Trent. That’s why he suspended me. It’s fine,” my mom offered a calm explanation. “It’s bondage, with whips and chains,” she said.
“Where are the whips? And the chains?” James asked skeptically.
“I guess we don’t have all that stuff,” my mom admitted. “We are kind of making do with household objects.”
I found a fly swatter and hit my mom’s butt with it. It made a satisfying sound. My mom literally laughed at that like it was a joke. She suggested that I use my hand.
My boner protruded in my pants, there was no hiding the bulge. I jizzed a little pre-cum into my underwear. I had no underlying sexual attraction to my mother. However, the fact that she was bold enough to suggest I use my bare hand to spank her bare butt – that turned me on! It made me feel guilty, but it also made me horny.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
-
EddieDavidson
- Posts: 42
- Joined: Fri Jun 23, 2023 2:38 pm
- Been thanked: 57 times
- Contact:
Chapter 2
I cupped my hand and smacked my mother’s ass. My brothers let out sighs of shock over my audacity. Then I rubbed my mother’s butt cheek. I felt like I needed to warm her ass up first before I went off on her.
“Why do guys do that? Does that do something for you?” she asked.
I had no idea what my mother was asking me. I had never spanked a woman’s ass before. It just felt natural to rub her bottom. She said most men do that. “Go ahead and give me some smacks. I can’t fight back, and I won’t break.”
I cupped my hand and smacked hard. I twisted my wrist as It came down and brought it down on my mother’s butt cheeks.
“I am not made of porcelain,” she suggested that I had not hit her hard enough. I felt like my mom was goading me or perhaps being critical. In retrospect, she was just as confused as I was, and I was clearly not spanking her ass correctly.
I spanked her three or four more times in the same spot.
“You don’t have to just do that one spot, Michael,” Mom suggested when I finished spanking her.
I alternated and spanked my mom rapidly four more times on the other butt cheek to apply even wear to her body.
“Spank her on the butthole,” James suggested from the table with a laugh. Trent giggled as well. My mom didn’t beg and plead for me not to do it. I waited and paused while the silence washed over me. I assumed rightly or wrongly that my mother’s lack of a response was tacit permission.
I aimed under her legs and smacked right in the middle of my mother’s crack, just under her pussy. I drew my back as she yelped. I felt wetness on my fingers and assumed that was butt-sweat. Misty was coated in a sticky-sweet sweat.
“That’s not my butthole,” my mom smirked. She didn’t explicitly tell me not to hit her there again. I had obviously spanked her pussy when my hand wrapped under her legs.
The others were shocked, and even though they didn’t laugh, I felt they were ridiculing me.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
“It’s okay, Michael. It’s just, is this doing anything for you? I feel like you are hurting your hand, and it’s obviously weirding you out.”
Doing anything for me? Well, making me pop a boner and think thoughts about my own mother that I had never had before? I couldn’t tell her that. “is it doing anything for you?” I asked.
“I am not getting off if that’s what you are asking,” my mom admitted. “You are very quiet, and there is no rhythm to your strokes. You are just hitting me, and it’s making me sway and feel a little nauseous. My tits hurt and feel like they are going to pop off, but I constantly feel like I am about to fall.”
“Should I untie you?”
“It’s probably taken 45 minutes to get up here for just five minutes of swinging. If you are getting weirded out, you guys can go. Just like come back and check on me every 15 minutes or something?”
“You want to stay like this?”
“Not all day, but I’ve come this far. I feel like there must be something to this if women do it so regularly on videos. It feels scary and uncomfortable but safe and serene at the same time. I can’t really explain it,” my mom said. “I just don’t want things to get weird between us after this is over. Okay?”
That was really nice of my mom. “I’d like to continue. I just don’t want to hurt you,” I said.
“I do!!” James laughed and volunteered.
“Is that okay, Michael? Are you done?”
“No, let me try a little more,” I sounded meek and unsure of myself. I didn’t want to sound that way. I was just not very confident that I had any clue or right to be doing anything of this with my mom. What I did know was that I didn’t want to stop either.
In retrospect, I should have said, “I know it makes you feel things you have never felt before to be tied up. It makes me feel things I have never felt before as well. I’d like to explore those feelings with you.”
That would have been super cool and probably weird at the same time. I smacked my mother on the pussy as I had before. A part of my fingers touched her pussy lips, while the bottom half wrapped around the curve of her bottom.
“I am not going to be mad if you hit harder,” she assured me. “You are also very quiet. You can say stuff so it doesn’t feel so awkward,” Mom said.
“Count for me,” I demanded as I hit her again.
“Ugh, not like corny stuff,” Mom complained. I felt like she was in control, and I was the one simply doing what she wanted me to do. She suggested we turn on the radio. I flipped on the music on the radio she had in the garage.
Hope walked in to check in on us, and I stopped.
“Oh god, are you spanking Mom?” she laughed at me like I was being ridiculous.
“They are trying to, but we are just learning,” my mom defended me.
“I can go get a baseball bat, and we can beat you like a Piñata,” Hope suggested darkly.
“Hardee, Hardee, Harr-Harr,” my mom retorted. Then she got really quiet and introspective. “Are you going to watch, Hope?”
“Why not? You could be making us lunch like a normal mom, but you are in here getting your butt spanked by your son,” Hope teased my mom. It sounded really critical when she said that.
“Keep going,” she whispered to me. She seemed like she was mesmerized and enjoying this. I brought my hand up between her legs and tried to smack the crack of her pussy lips like I smacked the crack of my mother’s ass. I had gotten far bolder about touching her pussy.
I hurt my hand; It felt like something sharp and metal when I slapped my mother’s pussy.
“What is that?”
“It’s my piercing,” She admitted. My mom has never been shy about things like this. It shouldn’t have been entirely shocking to us that she was pierced as well as tattooed. However, I was shocked because I had just slapped her clit piercing and gotten away with it.
Locking my mom out of the house for a few minutes as a joke paled in comparison to what I had just done. I was still processing my actions.
I rotated my mother like a piece of meat hanging from a rack. Her pussy was red and sore. She was dripping wet. There was a small diamond stud clearly visible on her clitoral hood. The others laughed when they saw it.
“I’ve had it forever,” she admitted while they ridiculed her. “I am not laughing about that. Are you wet, Mom?” Hope sneered.
I felt like this was beyond taboo. It was obvious my mother was wet because her pussy was dripping fluids, and my hand was coated in slimy pussy juice. However, she had not ACKNOWLEDGED her arousal until that moment. I felt like as long as we didn’t talk about it – it was not really happening.
“Yes, if somebody spanks your pussy, you’d be wet too; there is nothing I can do about it.”
“Have you been spanking mom’s pussy?” Hope looked at me like I was the most disgusting pervert on the planet.
“It’s bondage, Hope. No holds are barred,” my mom defended my actions. I still felt guilty, as my brothers looked at me like I was a total pervert as well. I could feel their disapproval.
“Holds or holes?” Hope grinned wickedly over the double entendre.
“Both, I guess. I am tied up, and I literally can’t do anything to stop anyone from doing anything to me. That’s the experience. Right?”
My mom seemed to be coming out of her orgasmic stupor.
“So, you want the guys to do any perverted things they want to you?”
My mom paused as if thinking about her response carefully. I once again assumed that silence meant that she did want that. However, when she spoke, I could tell my mom was being thoughtful. “I just asked to try being tied up so that I could understand the appeal of whips and chains. It’s supposed to make me feel like ANYONE could do anything they wanted to me. It doesn’t mean they will. It’s like riding a scary ride. You know it’s not real, but you want to sort of get a scare. I trust Michael a LOT more than I trust the men I normally date.”
“Yeah, I remember Randy,” Hope mentioned the name of my mom’s last boyfriend. She sounded disdainful and somber. I had almost forgotten his name. It had been more than a year ago. Now that I knew Randy had been interested in my sister, I had a new context. “Well, spank mom’s tits then,” Hope was half joking as she changed the subject.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” my mom joked and admitted her nipples were really sensitive. We had been reluctant to do more than cup our hands and smack her bottom or legs as she swung helplessly on the metal frame. She was nude, but she was also our mom. I don’t think any of us knew what we were doing either.
Once my mom made that joke, it sort of gave us permission to open the floodgates and start pawing at her and mashing her engorged tits. The rope had forced blood into them and made them feel like filled with sacks of milk. We didn’t pinch or do anything erotic to her tits. Instead, the three of us mashed, poked, and jiggled her tits while we laughed and joked.
I had secured my mom with rope, but she could jerk her body around, and it seemed like she was sliding out of the bindings. I had failed to tie her legs to anything so she could kick her feet and flail around. We alternated between playing with her tits, poking her ribs, smacking her butt cheeks, or just fighting off her kicking legs.
At one point, Trent had one of her legs, and I had the other, and we were pulling them wide apart like a wishbone. My mom wailed, gnashed, threatened, and laughed. Misty’s laugh while she was bound wasn’t like her natural chuckle when she saw something funny. I would describe it as a machine gun of intense chittering. “Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi,” she giggled intensely as she stared at us. Her hands were tightly bound to her body, and she could only endure our constant touching.
There was nothing really sexual about it. I know that sounds strange because she was naked, and we were touching her tits and butt. I would say it was definitely naughty and perverted. I was turned on and had an erection, but it wasn’t the focus of what we were doing. It wasn’t for her pleasure or ours. It was just this wild fun.
Hope watched it unfold with a sort of detached sarcasm. My sister directed us to do things like grab her feet and tickle them or pull on her toes, scratch behind her knees, and generally annoy my mother. Misty protested, “No, No, No,” but she was laughing hysterically as we overwhelmed her and didn’t relent.
I never touched my mom’s pussy after those initial spankings I gave her. Once my brothers and I joined forces to chaotically touch her all over, things took on a more frenetic pace. My mom’s body twitched as she swung. She had no way to hide her pussy or asshole while she swung there. We had a complete eyeful of her most intimate parts.
My mother’s pussy was wet, and her inner thighs were coated with a viscous white fluid from her arousal. None of us said anything about it, but we all knew it was sort of like pre-cum from a dick. I didn’t process that our actions were making my mom aroused. I just felt like it was something she couldn’t help because of the bindings.
The difference is I may drip a little, and this was a LOT.
None of us put our fingers INSIDE my mother, even though when she flailed her legs, she often presented her entire spread pussy to us. James grabbed at my mother’s tongue a few times and tried to catch it when she screamed or giggled.
Trent and James also
touched her clit and tickled it a little, but my mom kicked them with her flailing legs, and she pleaded, “no, no, no, don’t go there! No!”
She kicked me too. There were several times that I smacked her simply because she planted a foot in my solar plexus. She wasn’t angry or violent. She was mostly just wildly reacting to our touches, pokes, and smacks.
My mom’s laughs were infectious. I think if she wasn’t constantly babbling and laughing, it may have felt really wrong to do this to our own mother. The fact that she seemed to be delighted but in a crazy panic added a level of excitement to it all that only encouraged us to tease her body even more.
I was kneading her breasts like two balls of pizza dough. She managed to get her legs over my shoulders so that her pussy was right in front of my face. If I had pushed my head further, I could have put my tongue in my mother’s pussy. “Hah-hah!! Who has who now,” she managed to say. She rarely spoke. Instead, she alternated between giggles, screams, and groans.
I jabbed my fingers into her butt cheeks and pinched her. “Ow!! DAMMIT!” she laughed. Trent grabbed one leg and pulled her off of me. James grabbed the other and twisted. They pulled her toes up at my sister’s direction and began to tickle the bottom of her feet.
I moved behind my mother while she bucked her hips wildly. Her butt cheeks were flapping open and closed as she reacted to the tickling. It’s hard to describe my mother’s asshole. It wasn’t gaping open, but it was larger than I expected it to be. It was very inviting. I didn’t think about it. I was reacting in the moment as I stood behind her. I poked my index finger into her asshole, and it slid right in without any give.
I didn’t push it in deep, but I felt like I had gone “too far.” There was an unspoken, invisible grey line that I knew must exist. We all played with my mom’s butt. None of us had dared to stick our fingers in her butthole, though – until I did. I blushed and felt guilty. I withdrew my finger as soon as I noticed Hope glaring at me with disappointment.
My mom should have been humiliated, but if she noticed, she didn’t let on at all. She was busy fighting off my brothers as they tried to control her thighs and hips with their hands. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” My mom’s startled cry shocked me. I thought she was sliding out of the ropes. She had managed to loosen them with her body sweat and struggles.
“Emergency potty break, let me down, let me down, let me down,” Mom warned like a klaxon siren. The others backed away from her front. I stood back in case she was going to poop on me. “No, no, no, no……” my mom begged her own body to stop what it was doing. She kicked her legs a little, and then a single squirt of what I assumed was a combination of pre-cum and piss shot out of her pussy flaps and splashed onto her thighs and the floor below her. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” mom apologized.
Misty’s tone was humiliated, disappointed with herself for pissing. She had gone from excited meat puppet on a string jerking and wriggling with big smiles to hanging wet and defeated from the metal pole.
“Get her down, so she can clean up,” Hope instructed.
“Sorry guys, I’ll clean the floor!” my mom apologized several times. I was the only one who knew how the ropes were supposed to be tied. I ended up having to cut a few of them with some hedge clippers because the knots were not easy to undo.
The others lost interest and left once the spectacle was over. The smell of my mother’s wet pussy permeated the garage. My mom said nothing. She waited patiently for me to let her down. I felt she was having some misgivings and doubts about what had just happened. I did not want to say anything to her and compound the awkwardness.
Misty thanked me when I fully freed her. She rubbed her wrists and grabbed her clothes. My mom thought nothing of bending over at the waist. I saw her asshole for what I assumed would be the last time as she bent over. She stood up and looked over her shoulder at me with surprise when she caught me looking at her butt. “I guess we are even for me barging in on you while you rubbed one out, huh?” she asked rhetorically before stalking through the house to clean herself up.
I took a mop and cleaned up the little bit of pissy mess she left behind. It wasn’t that big of a deal. My mom took her time in the bathroom, showered, and came out looking refreshed. I was already back in the kitchen by the time she returned.
“You didn’t have to clean up. I would have done that,” Mom observed after she returned to the garage. She seemed detached, perhaps a little mortified about what had just happened. She also didn’t seem inclined to debrief on what we had just done either.
I think my brothers and I were ashamed of how far we had gone with her. In particular, I had washed my hands thoroughly and felt really ashamed of my behavior – especially at the very end. I wanted to apologize to her, but I felt like it was best not to say anything at all.
Things didn’t return to normal right away. It was like this hour of silence while we all processed the intense scene that had unfolded out in the garage.
My mom made us dinner in silence. She was fully dressed. My mom still had the stainless-steel collar locked around her neck, but that was probably because she had forgotten about it and just hadn’t asked Hope to unlock her. It felt like she was just done with the entire scene.
Misty normally joked and made wisecracks about us not helping her while she made dinner. Instead, she put some music on in the kitchen and silently went about making us a simple dinner.
I wanted to address it with her, but I felt perhaps it best to just never speak of this time again.
When she summoned us to dinner, we all sat down and ate. We often ate individually in our rooms or in the living room watching TV. It was rare to have a dinner, but usually we talked and joked. This time, we were all really quiet.
“Do you want me to unlock the collar, Mom?” Hope offered politely. It was obvious that even she felt bad about what we had done to her.
“I had almost forgotten I was wearing it. It was nice and cool while I hung there,” my mom said as she touched the collar. She thanked my sister as Hope unlocked her. I would have expected my sister to pretend she lost the key to tease my mother. Instead, she somberly unlocked the collar and removed it.
Once Hope removed the collar, she put it on the table. We went back to eating like nothing weird had just happened.
Suddenly, we heard what I assumed what I assumed was a wet fart break the silence. “Frippooooooooppppppppthhh”.
“That was a Queef,” my mom explained as the others broke out into raucous laughter. It was just what we all needed to add a little levity to the situation. The look on my mother’s face was an embarrassment, but like she had to just grin and bear it. “You guys sort of cleaned out my pipes today. That’s just a little air getting shot out of my blow hole!”
That was what we needed to feel like we had permission to talk about what happened. “Today was crazy!” James admitted. Trent agreed, and even Hope snickered a little.
“I wanted to try whips and chains, and I appreciate you guys letting me experiment. It was wholly inappropriate, though. I am sorry about that. I did not think it would be like that. I totally understand if you guys want to send me the bill for therapy later. That went a lot wilder than I thought it would. No one in the video that I saw was laughing or terrified. They were really calm like they were at a funeral or something. I didn’t know I would have an orgasm, and I am so sorry!!”
“Gross, you had an orgasm?” Hope’s face went from passively mirthful to disgusted scorn in a split second.
“Yeah, they are fun; you should try to have one sometime,” my mom retorted with a grin. She looked at us and said she didn’t regret having the orgasm; she just didn’t think we should have had to witness that.
“Is that why you peed all over the ground?” Trent snickered.
“I was already having an orgasm, but yeah, I squirted when one of you stuck a finger in my pooper,” my mom found it amusing. My spine tingled with a fresh wave of embarrassment and guilt, even though my mom didn’t seem all that upset by what happened.
“Gross,” Hope scrunched her nose in disgust.
“You’ve never had a finger in your butt?” Misty asked rhetorically in disbelief.
“Not by my brothers while I was squirming around like a total whore covered in ants,” Hope admitted anyway. It was intended to be an insult.
“Fuck, ants?” My mom sounded intrigued by the idea. “That would have blown my mind. Maybe I can find a guy who will tie me up like that again, but black ants only! Red ants would be a little too painful.”
“What about us?” Trent asked hopefully.
“You want to be tied up by my next boyfriend?” Mom snickered playfully. We all knew that she was joking.
“No, we could tie you up again!” Trent and James both agreed. I was reluctant.
“Well, first of all, you didn’t tie me up; Michael did. No offense, guys, but I think we crossed about a thousand taboos and boundaries today, and I couldn’t ask you to do that to me again.”
Trent and James assured my mom that they were totally fine with it. I was reluctant to agree, but I wanted to tie her up again.
“You actually liked it?” Hope asked with chagrin.
“It was humiliating to be hung like a rack of meat, uncomfortable and painful at first, but after a while it stopped hurting and it was almost like zen.”
“What do you mean? my brothers basically molested you,” Hope found that hard to believe.
“No, they teased me mercilessly and got me right to the edge of cumming to torture the shit out of me,” Misty seemed glad we had done that to her, even though she seemed to be chiding us for it. “It felt like it dragged on for hours but was over almost immediately. It was a total mind fuck,” she said.
“You enjoyed it?” I asked. Her response was not what I expected.
“I think I hated it, tolerated it, and got off on it at the same time. I am still trying to figure it out,” my mom admitted honestly.
“I am still feeling adrenalin coursing through my body and all these weird sensations and tingles. I am sure my muscles will ache tomorrow, but right now, I feel this burn in my stomach muscles. It was probably really good cardio for me,” Mom admitted. “I know you can’t unsee what you saw, but maybe you could hang me out there solo with some of my dildos and check on me every 15 minutes and let me finish myself off.”
“You really want to do it again?” I was shocked. My brothers weren’t, though. They were encouraging my mother to do it again right now.
“I will definitely do it again,” Mom assured me but said it would be the last time with us. “I want to try it one more time. It was fun, but it was over so fast.”
I wanted to do it with her, but I played it cool like I wasn’t chomping at the bit. The truth was, I was a little unsure how I got so lucky. This was all kinds of fun to me.
“I can’t believe you guys would want me to do it again though. I kicked the snot out of you three with my feet while I was swinging from the rope. I am positive that I kicked one of you in the face.”
“I could bind your feet next time,” I assured my mother. I had all of these flashbacks to how I initially tied her up. I had even been checking my phone to read up on how I might have done a better job of tying her up.
She hadn’t finished her plate. “Let’s go then,” she said as she stood up and wiped her mouth.
“Are you guys really serious?” Hope found it impossible to believe. My brothers stood up with mirthful smiles.
“Let me go pee first,” Misty suggested before adding that there was a blue tarp in the garage, we could put under her. “Do you mind if I wear this collar again?” she asked Hope. Misty didn’t wait for permission. She put it around her neck and locked the clasp. She was excited and ready to go for round two.
We assembled in the garage and waited for my mom to finish going to the bathroom. “Show me how to tie ropes like that?” my youngest brother Trent asked. I told him that I was still learning myself.
Hope sat down at the table like a crow sitting on the fence post to malign the farmer for working in the hot sun. “Mom is fucking stupid to let you three stooges do this to her,” she harumphed. I did not respond to her comment.
My mother walked in completely naked except for the stainless collar. She was holding a small box of dildos and lotions. “I brought my toys. Is that okay? Props are always good, right?”
“How are we supposed to use these?” Trent picked up a white and red latex dildo and examined it.
“Stick them up your ass,” Hope suggested he shove it up his ass. Trent playfully smacked my sister on the arm with the dildo. Hope hissed at him like a cat and smacked him right back.
I pointed out that I planned to bind her arms, and she wouldn’t be able to use them on herself. I was wondering if she’d invite us to use the dildos on her.
“You can just plant one on the seat of a chair,” Mom suggested as she selected a different dildo. She licked the flat base and planted it on the seat of one of the chairs. “Just suspend me over it, and I’ll do the rest.”
I was shocked. My mom had never done anything quite this outlandish before. She obviously didn’t care that we knew she fucked herself with dildos. I guess we always knew that she did – but it was entirely different to see her be so blasé’ about it.
Hope rolled her eyes in disgust.
“I am sure Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong has a plethora of dildos hidden in her room to satisfy her own needs,” my mom countered.
“Oh please, if I get hard up, I can always call up Randy, and he’ll come over and fuck me any time I want,” Hope replied darkly.
Mom gave Hope the stink eye. It wasn’t very fair to bring up my mom’s ex-boyfriend. She HAD dumped him over his alleged interest in Hope. My mom ignored her and began to remove her clit piercing.
“Okay, a few ground rules before we get started, okay?” Mom asked us as she pinched her clit, extended it, and carefully began to remove the jeweled ring from her exposed clit. I was fascinated by what she was doing.
“First, I am not your slave. Okay?”
Misty had established that she wasn’t my slave before the first session. I guess she felt it was important that my brothers hear it. I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that. We weren’t treating her like a “slave.”
We nodded our understanding.
“The last time, you guys got really rough with my clit. It’s not detachable, so I am taking the only part that IS detachable out so that you don’t pull it off,” she said as she dropped the piercing into an ashtray on the table. “I can’t believe I am taking out my clit right for you guys. Okay, let’s see what else? Oh yeah, I am a woman with female parts, and I am going to drip, get sweaty, queef. I may even fart, depending on how things go. I don’t get shocked when I notice your boners when you walk around in your underwear. So can we be cool about it?”
We nodded our understanding, although it was still shocking. My mom surrendered herself to me and reported to the cherry picker. Misty stood flat-footed and allowed me to begin wrapping the rope around her midsection.
“That being said, you can leave if things get too weird for you or you don’t want to do this. Just don’t leave me hanging?”
“You should totally leave Mom up there all night,” Hope suggested wickedly, like a devil succubus sitting on our shoulders whispering wicked ideas. Trent laughed and said that it might be fun.
“I am trusting you guys,” Mom didn’t seem all that concerned we’d take Hope’s suggestion seriously. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” she grabbed her tits and mashed them. “THIS,” she said as she demonstrated how we had mauled her boobs in the first session, “does nothing. I do not think any woman would enjoy that. If you want to tie up a girlfriend in the future, I can assure you that is not doing anything for me. So, unless it does something for you, I’d prefer you not do it,” she said. Then she pinched, pulled, and twisted her nipples and said that would work.
“We’re allowed to do that?” James seemed surprised when my mother basically gave us instructions on how to push her buttons.
“I am not going to be in any position to tell you no, James. You had no problem twisting my clit hood like that earlier, anyway,” Mom explained as I tightened the ropes around her body.
“You said no the entire time,” Trent complained.
“It didn’t stop you,” Mom grinned sheepishly.
“How do we know if you really don’t want us to do something?” James asked.
“You have common sense, James. I am going to be helpless for however long you leave me tied up,” Mom replied while lifting her arms so that I could tie rope around her ribcage and cross her tits so that they were tightly bound.
“Maybe we need a safe word,” I suggested as I watched my mother’s nipples stiffen and her tits start to fill with blood.
“Yeah, the safe word could be ‘fuck me harder,’” My sister joked.
“Obviously, don’t fuck me,” My mom dismissed the notion as absurd and asked which one of us put our finger up her butt. James and Trent looked right at me accusingly. I said it was me.
“Please clip your nails if you are going to do that again,” my mom looked right at me as she made the suggestion. My heart sank. I felt like such a pervert. Then she said we were obviously going to be even.
“Even for what?” Hope asked.
“I barged in on Michael going to town. I told him everybody does it and not to get his panties in a wad about it. That’s when I saw the porn of women being tied up and got this wild hair to try it,” Mom explained calmly.
I was absolutely mortified. My mom had just volunteered to be bound in the nude, and I was the one who felt embarrassed. I tightened the ropes even harder than before and double-wrapped them around her arms so that she could not move them. Mom definitely noticed my demeanor changed.
“Sorry, I did not know it was a secret that you jerk it, Michael. You are a teenager. All guys do until they can’t get it up any longer,” Mom rolled her eyes and bent her knees slightly so I could tie her waist and thighs. “Trust me, if I had been born with a schlong, I’d probably be playing with that constantly. Cocks are way more interesting than just a pee-hole,” she said.
I felt quite the opposite. “Grass is always greener,” I replied as I ran the rope between her legs and crossed it on either side of her labia. I suspended body by pulling her up using the chain pully of the cherry picker. Her body weight was centered at her hips, and it crushed her pussy lips.
“Ouchie,” Mom said. She noticed that I had tied her up differently.
“Why don’t you tie her up so that her arms are over her head?” Trent suggested.
“Because I know what I am doing,” I lied. I was copying the pictures that I had seen of bound women as best as I could. However, none of them were suspended over a dildo. I asked my mom how I could accommodate her request to hover over the dildo and presumably drop herself down on it.
“You are the expert, Michael,” mom smiled. “That’s the fun part about being on the rope. I do not have to think.”
I lifted my mom’s leg and raised it up. Much to my surprise, my mother was limber enough to allow me to stretch her leg above her head. I bound her ankle to the top of the cherry picker, and then I bound her other leg so that her pussy and asshole were exposed to us as she swung. She still couldn’t position herself to be able to sit down on the dildo.
“Oh wow, this is different,” my mom admired how completely helpless she was. Her arms and legs were effectively hog-tied over her head, and both of her holes were visible.
“Jesus, look how big your butthole is,” James noticed. My mom blushed.
“At least you can’t kick us from this position,” Trent seemed relieved.
“You didn’t enjoy that? I thought you’d like it if I fought back,” Mom said. “I don’t know exactly what you guys get out of this. I worried you’d get blue balls seeing me swinging from rope and teasing me. It makes me feel a little guilty that you are doing all the work, and I get all the payoff and attention,” she said.
From my perspective, this was a lot of fun. I did not want to say that; frankly, I wasn’t sure how to explain why I enjoyed tying her up and being in control.
“They are perverts, so they get to smell pussy and see tits,” Hope explained.
“They can find girls their own age, and if they get hard up, they can open a can of tuna and look on the Internet,” Mom joked. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Why don’t you gag her so you don’t have to listen to her cackle?” Hope joked.
My mom opened my mouth as wide as she could in open defiance of her daughter and stuck her tongue out as if to dare Hope to come and try to shut her up. “If you hate this so much, you don’t have to stay and watch?”
“Oh, I can’t stop watching you humiliate yourself. Are you really that horny that this is how you get your kicks?”
“What else can I do, Hope? Whenever I bring over a guy, you come sniffing around and tease him,” my mom was joking. It was kind of mean to suggest that Hope wanted my mother’s ex-boyfriend’s attention, but we often made jokes like that.
Hope flung a sex toy at my mother’s swinging legs and missed her. The dildo fell harmlessly after it bounced off a wall.
“Missed me, missed me, now you’ve got to kiss me,” Misty teased playfully.
“I should go pop some popcorn and see how many times I can hit you in that disgusting fart-hole of yours. Have you seen your asshole? It’s huge.”
I had recently observed that my mother’s butthole was just naturally large. It wasn’t particularly stretched out or gaping – just abnormally large compared to the tight little booty holes you often see online with porn models.
Mom blanched and looked a little defeated as she swung slowly with her feet raised above her head. That was a real surprise. I would have expected Misty to fire off a zinger in response. “You absolutely could,” she admitted calmly but obviously hoping that her daughter wouldn’t do it.
“Why do guys do that? Does that do something for you?” she asked.
I had no idea what my mother was asking me. I had never spanked a woman’s ass before. It just felt natural to rub her bottom. She said most men do that. “Go ahead and give me some smacks. I can’t fight back, and I won’t break.”
I cupped my hand and smacked hard. I twisted my wrist as It came down and brought it down on my mother’s butt cheeks.
“I am not made of porcelain,” she suggested that I had not hit her hard enough. I felt like my mom was goading me or perhaps being critical. In retrospect, she was just as confused as I was, and I was clearly not spanking her ass correctly.
I spanked her three or four more times in the same spot.
“You don’t have to just do that one spot, Michael,” Mom suggested when I finished spanking her.
I alternated and spanked my mom rapidly four more times on the other butt cheek to apply even wear to her body.
“Spank her on the butthole,” James suggested from the table with a laugh. Trent giggled as well. My mom didn’t beg and plead for me not to do it. I waited and paused while the silence washed over me. I assumed rightly or wrongly that my mother’s lack of a response was tacit permission.
I aimed under her legs and smacked right in the middle of my mother’s crack, just under her pussy. I drew my back as she yelped. I felt wetness on my fingers and assumed that was butt-sweat. Misty was coated in a sticky-sweet sweat.
“That’s not my butthole,” my mom smirked. She didn’t explicitly tell me not to hit her there again. I had obviously spanked her pussy when my hand wrapped under her legs.
The others were shocked, and even though they didn’t laugh, I felt they were ridiculing me.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
“It’s okay, Michael. It’s just, is this doing anything for you? I feel like you are hurting your hand, and it’s obviously weirding you out.”
Doing anything for me? Well, making me pop a boner and think thoughts about my own mother that I had never had before? I couldn’t tell her that. “is it doing anything for you?” I asked.
“I am not getting off if that’s what you are asking,” my mom admitted. “You are very quiet, and there is no rhythm to your strokes. You are just hitting me, and it’s making me sway and feel a little nauseous. My tits hurt and feel like they are going to pop off, but I constantly feel like I am about to fall.”
“Should I untie you?”
“It’s probably taken 45 minutes to get up here for just five minutes of swinging. If you are getting weirded out, you guys can go. Just like come back and check on me every 15 minutes or something?”
“You want to stay like this?”
“Not all day, but I’ve come this far. I feel like there must be something to this if women do it so regularly on videos. It feels scary and uncomfortable but safe and serene at the same time. I can’t really explain it,” my mom said. “I just don’t want things to get weird between us after this is over. Okay?”
That was really nice of my mom. “I’d like to continue. I just don’t want to hurt you,” I said.
“I do!!” James laughed and volunteered.
“Is that okay, Michael? Are you done?”
“No, let me try a little more,” I sounded meek and unsure of myself. I didn’t want to sound that way. I was just not very confident that I had any clue or right to be doing anything of this with my mom. What I did know was that I didn’t want to stop either.
In retrospect, I should have said, “I know it makes you feel things you have never felt before to be tied up. It makes me feel things I have never felt before as well. I’d like to explore those feelings with you.”
That would have been super cool and probably weird at the same time. I smacked my mother on the pussy as I had before. A part of my fingers touched her pussy lips, while the bottom half wrapped around the curve of her bottom.
“I am not going to be mad if you hit harder,” she assured me. “You are also very quiet. You can say stuff so it doesn’t feel so awkward,” Mom said.
“Count for me,” I demanded as I hit her again.
“Ugh, not like corny stuff,” Mom complained. I felt like she was in control, and I was the one simply doing what she wanted me to do. She suggested we turn on the radio. I flipped on the music on the radio she had in the garage.
Hope walked in to check in on us, and I stopped.
“Oh god, are you spanking Mom?” she laughed at me like I was being ridiculous.
“They are trying to, but we are just learning,” my mom defended me.
“I can go get a baseball bat, and we can beat you like a Piñata,” Hope suggested darkly.
“Hardee, Hardee, Harr-Harr,” my mom retorted. Then she got really quiet and introspective. “Are you going to watch, Hope?”
“Why not? You could be making us lunch like a normal mom, but you are in here getting your butt spanked by your son,” Hope teased my mom. It sounded really critical when she said that.
“Keep going,” she whispered to me. She seemed like she was mesmerized and enjoying this. I brought my hand up between her legs and tried to smack the crack of her pussy lips like I smacked the crack of my mother’s ass. I had gotten far bolder about touching her pussy.
I hurt my hand; It felt like something sharp and metal when I slapped my mother’s pussy.
“What is that?”
“It’s my piercing,” She admitted. My mom has never been shy about things like this. It shouldn’t have been entirely shocking to us that she was pierced as well as tattooed. However, I was shocked because I had just slapped her clit piercing and gotten away with it.
Locking my mom out of the house for a few minutes as a joke paled in comparison to what I had just done. I was still processing my actions.
I rotated my mother like a piece of meat hanging from a rack. Her pussy was red and sore. She was dripping wet. There was a small diamond stud clearly visible on her clitoral hood. The others laughed when they saw it.
“I’ve had it forever,” she admitted while they ridiculed her. “I am not laughing about that. Are you wet, Mom?” Hope sneered.
I felt like this was beyond taboo. It was obvious my mother was wet because her pussy was dripping fluids, and my hand was coated in slimy pussy juice. However, she had not ACKNOWLEDGED her arousal until that moment. I felt like as long as we didn’t talk about it – it was not really happening.
“Yes, if somebody spanks your pussy, you’d be wet too; there is nothing I can do about it.”
“Have you been spanking mom’s pussy?” Hope looked at me like I was the most disgusting pervert on the planet.
“It’s bondage, Hope. No holds are barred,” my mom defended my actions. I still felt guilty, as my brothers looked at me like I was a total pervert as well. I could feel their disapproval.
“Holds or holes?” Hope grinned wickedly over the double entendre.
“Both, I guess. I am tied up, and I literally can’t do anything to stop anyone from doing anything to me. That’s the experience. Right?”
My mom seemed to be coming out of her orgasmic stupor.
“So, you want the guys to do any perverted things they want to you?”
My mom paused as if thinking about her response carefully. I once again assumed that silence meant that she did want that. However, when she spoke, I could tell my mom was being thoughtful. “I just asked to try being tied up so that I could understand the appeal of whips and chains. It’s supposed to make me feel like ANYONE could do anything they wanted to me. It doesn’t mean they will. It’s like riding a scary ride. You know it’s not real, but you want to sort of get a scare. I trust Michael a LOT more than I trust the men I normally date.”
“Yeah, I remember Randy,” Hope mentioned the name of my mom’s last boyfriend. She sounded disdainful and somber. I had almost forgotten his name. It had been more than a year ago. Now that I knew Randy had been interested in my sister, I had a new context. “Well, spank mom’s tits then,” Hope was half joking as she changed the subject.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” my mom joked and admitted her nipples were really sensitive. We had been reluctant to do more than cup our hands and smack her bottom or legs as she swung helplessly on the metal frame. She was nude, but she was also our mom. I don’t think any of us knew what we were doing either.
Once my mom made that joke, it sort of gave us permission to open the floodgates and start pawing at her and mashing her engorged tits. The rope had forced blood into them and made them feel like filled with sacks of milk. We didn’t pinch or do anything erotic to her tits. Instead, the three of us mashed, poked, and jiggled her tits while we laughed and joked.
I had secured my mom with rope, but she could jerk her body around, and it seemed like she was sliding out of the bindings. I had failed to tie her legs to anything so she could kick her feet and flail around. We alternated between playing with her tits, poking her ribs, smacking her butt cheeks, or just fighting off her kicking legs.
At one point, Trent had one of her legs, and I had the other, and we were pulling them wide apart like a wishbone. My mom wailed, gnashed, threatened, and laughed. Misty’s laugh while she was bound wasn’t like her natural chuckle when she saw something funny. I would describe it as a machine gun of intense chittering. “Hi-hi-hi-hi-hi,” she giggled intensely as she stared at us. Her hands were tightly bound to her body, and she could only endure our constant touching.
There was nothing really sexual about it. I know that sounds strange because she was naked, and we were touching her tits and butt. I would say it was definitely naughty and perverted. I was turned on and had an erection, but it wasn’t the focus of what we were doing. It wasn’t for her pleasure or ours. It was just this wild fun.
Hope watched it unfold with a sort of detached sarcasm. My sister directed us to do things like grab her feet and tickle them or pull on her toes, scratch behind her knees, and generally annoy my mother. Misty protested, “No, No, No,” but she was laughing hysterically as we overwhelmed her and didn’t relent.
I never touched my mom’s pussy after those initial spankings I gave her. Once my brothers and I joined forces to chaotically touch her all over, things took on a more frenetic pace. My mom’s body twitched as she swung. She had no way to hide her pussy or asshole while she swung there. We had a complete eyeful of her most intimate parts.
My mother’s pussy was wet, and her inner thighs were coated with a viscous white fluid from her arousal. None of us said anything about it, but we all knew it was sort of like pre-cum from a dick. I didn’t process that our actions were making my mom aroused. I just felt like it was something she couldn’t help because of the bindings.
The difference is I may drip a little, and this was a LOT.
None of us put our fingers INSIDE my mother, even though when she flailed her legs, she often presented her entire spread pussy to us. James grabbed at my mother’s tongue a few times and tried to catch it when she screamed or giggled.
Trent and James also
touched her clit and tickled it a little, but my mom kicked them with her flailing legs, and she pleaded, “no, no, no, don’t go there! No!”
She kicked me too. There were several times that I smacked her simply because she planted a foot in my solar plexus. She wasn’t angry or violent. She was mostly just wildly reacting to our touches, pokes, and smacks.
My mom’s laughs were infectious. I think if she wasn’t constantly babbling and laughing, it may have felt really wrong to do this to our own mother. The fact that she seemed to be delighted but in a crazy panic added a level of excitement to it all that only encouraged us to tease her body even more.
I was kneading her breasts like two balls of pizza dough. She managed to get her legs over my shoulders so that her pussy was right in front of my face. If I had pushed my head further, I could have put my tongue in my mother’s pussy. “Hah-hah!! Who has who now,” she managed to say. She rarely spoke. Instead, she alternated between giggles, screams, and groans.
I jabbed my fingers into her butt cheeks and pinched her. “Ow!! DAMMIT!” she laughed. Trent grabbed one leg and pulled her off of me. James grabbed the other and twisted. They pulled her toes up at my sister’s direction and began to tickle the bottom of her feet.
I moved behind my mother while she bucked her hips wildly. Her butt cheeks were flapping open and closed as she reacted to the tickling. It’s hard to describe my mother’s asshole. It wasn’t gaping open, but it was larger than I expected it to be. It was very inviting. I didn’t think about it. I was reacting in the moment as I stood behind her. I poked my index finger into her asshole, and it slid right in without any give.
I didn’t push it in deep, but I felt like I had gone “too far.” There was an unspoken, invisible grey line that I knew must exist. We all played with my mom’s butt. None of us had dared to stick our fingers in her butthole, though – until I did. I blushed and felt guilty. I withdrew my finger as soon as I noticed Hope glaring at me with disappointment.
My mom should have been humiliated, but if she noticed, she didn’t let on at all. She was busy fighting off my brothers as they tried to control her thighs and hips with their hands. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” My mom’s startled cry shocked me. I thought she was sliding out of the ropes. She had managed to loosen them with her body sweat and struggles.
“Emergency potty break, let me down, let me down, let me down,” Mom warned like a klaxon siren. The others backed away from her front. I stood back in case she was going to poop on me. “No, no, no, no……” my mom begged her own body to stop what it was doing. She kicked her legs a little, and then a single squirt of what I assumed was a combination of pre-cum and piss shot out of her pussy flaps and splashed onto her thighs and the floor below her. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” mom apologized.
Misty’s tone was humiliated, disappointed with herself for pissing. She had gone from excited meat puppet on a string jerking and wriggling with big smiles to hanging wet and defeated from the metal pole.
“Get her down, so she can clean up,” Hope instructed.
“Sorry guys, I’ll clean the floor!” my mom apologized several times. I was the only one who knew how the ropes were supposed to be tied. I ended up having to cut a few of them with some hedge clippers because the knots were not easy to undo.
The others lost interest and left once the spectacle was over. The smell of my mother’s wet pussy permeated the garage. My mom said nothing. She waited patiently for me to let her down. I felt she was having some misgivings and doubts about what had just happened. I did not want to say anything to her and compound the awkwardness.
Misty thanked me when I fully freed her. She rubbed her wrists and grabbed her clothes. My mom thought nothing of bending over at the waist. I saw her asshole for what I assumed would be the last time as she bent over. She stood up and looked over her shoulder at me with surprise when she caught me looking at her butt. “I guess we are even for me barging in on you while you rubbed one out, huh?” she asked rhetorically before stalking through the house to clean herself up.
I took a mop and cleaned up the little bit of pissy mess she left behind. It wasn’t that big of a deal. My mom took her time in the bathroom, showered, and came out looking refreshed. I was already back in the kitchen by the time she returned.
“You didn’t have to clean up. I would have done that,” Mom observed after she returned to the garage. She seemed detached, perhaps a little mortified about what had just happened. She also didn’t seem inclined to debrief on what we had just done either.
I think my brothers and I were ashamed of how far we had gone with her. In particular, I had washed my hands thoroughly and felt really ashamed of my behavior – especially at the very end. I wanted to apologize to her, but I felt like it was best not to say anything at all.
Things didn’t return to normal right away. It was like this hour of silence while we all processed the intense scene that had unfolded out in the garage.
My mom made us dinner in silence. She was fully dressed. My mom still had the stainless-steel collar locked around her neck, but that was probably because she had forgotten about it and just hadn’t asked Hope to unlock her. It felt like she was just done with the entire scene.
Misty normally joked and made wisecracks about us not helping her while she made dinner. Instead, she put some music on in the kitchen and silently went about making us a simple dinner.
I wanted to address it with her, but I felt perhaps it best to just never speak of this time again.
When she summoned us to dinner, we all sat down and ate. We often ate individually in our rooms or in the living room watching TV. It was rare to have a dinner, but usually we talked and joked. This time, we were all really quiet.
“Do you want me to unlock the collar, Mom?” Hope offered politely. It was obvious that even she felt bad about what we had done to her.
“I had almost forgotten I was wearing it. It was nice and cool while I hung there,” my mom said as she touched the collar. She thanked my sister as Hope unlocked her. I would have expected my sister to pretend she lost the key to tease my mother. Instead, she somberly unlocked the collar and removed it.
Once Hope removed the collar, she put it on the table. We went back to eating like nothing weird had just happened.
Suddenly, we heard what I assumed what I assumed was a wet fart break the silence. “Frippooooooooppppppppthhh”.
“That was a Queef,” my mom explained as the others broke out into raucous laughter. It was just what we all needed to add a little levity to the situation. The look on my mother’s face was an embarrassment, but like she had to just grin and bear it. “You guys sort of cleaned out my pipes today. That’s just a little air getting shot out of my blow hole!”
That was what we needed to feel like we had permission to talk about what happened. “Today was crazy!” James admitted. Trent agreed, and even Hope snickered a little.
“I wanted to try whips and chains, and I appreciate you guys letting me experiment. It was wholly inappropriate, though. I am sorry about that. I did not think it would be like that. I totally understand if you guys want to send me the bill for therapy later. That went a lot wilder than I thought it would. No one in the video that I saw was laughing or terrified. They were really calm like they were at a funeral or something. I didn’t know I would have an orgasm, and I am so sorry!!”
“Gross, you had an orgasm?” Hope’s face went from passively mirthful to disgusted scorn in a split second.
“Yeah, they are fun; you should try to have one sometime,” my mom retorted with a grin. She looked at us and said she didn’t regret having the orgasm; she just didn’t think we should have had to witness that.
“Is that why you peed all over the ground?” Trent snickered.
“I was already having an orgasm, but yeah, I squirted when one of you stuck a finger in my pooper,” my mom found it amusing. My spine tingled with a fresh wave of embarrassment and guilt, even though my mom didn’t seem all that upset by what happened.
“Gross,” Hope scrunched her nose in disgust.
“You’ve never had a finger in your butt?” Misty asked rhetorically in disbelief.
“Not by my brothers while I was squirming around like a total whore covered in ants,” Hope admitted anyway. It was intended to be an insult.
“Fuck, ants?” My mom sounded intrigued by the idea. “That would have blown my mind. Maybe I can find a guy who will tie me up like that again, but black ants only! Red ants would be a little too painful.”
“What about us?” Trent asked hopefully.
“You want to be tied up by my next boyfriend?” Mom snickered playfully. We all knew that she was joking.
“No, we could tie you up again!” Trent and James both agreed. I was reluctant.
“Well, first of all, you didn’t tie me up; Michael did. No offense, guys, but I think we crossed about a thousand taboos and boundaries today, and I couldn’t ask you to do that to me again.”
Trent and James assured my mom that they were totally fine with it. I was reluctant to agree, but I wanted to tie her up again.
“You actually liked it?” Hope asked with chagrin.
“It was humiliating to be hung like a rack of meat, uncomfortable and painful at first, but after a while it stopped hurting and it was almost like zen.”
“What do you mean? my brothers basically molested you,” Hope found that hard to believe.
“No, they teased me mercilessly and got me right to the edge of cumming to torture the shit out of me,” Misty seemed glad we had done that to her, even though she seemed to be chiding us for it. “It felt like it dragged on for hours but was over almost immediately. It was a total mind fuck,” she said.
“You enjoyed it?” I asked. Her response was not what I expected.
“I think I hated it, tolerated it, and got off on it at the same time. I am still trying to figure it out,” my mom admitted honestly.
“I am still feeling adrenalin coursing through my body and all these weird sensations and tingles. I am sure my muscles will ache tomorrow, but right now, I feel this burn in my stomach muscles. It was probably really good cardio for me,” Mom admitted. “I know you can’t unsee what you saw, but maybe you could hang me out there solo with some of my dildos and check on me every 15 minutes and let me finish myself off.”
“You really want to do it again?” I was shocked. My brothers weren’t, though. They were encouraging my mother to do it again right now.
“I will definitely do it again,” Mom assured me but said it would be the last time with us. “I want to try it one more time. It was fun, but it was over so fast.”
I wanted to do it with her, but I played it cool like I wasn’t chomping at the bit. The truth was, I was a little unsure how I got so lucky. This was all kinds of fun to me.
“I can’t believe you guys would want me to do it again though. I kicked the snot out of you three with my feet while I was swinging from the rope. I am positive that I kicked one of you in the face.”
“I could bind your feet next time,” I assured my mother. I had all of these flashbacks to how I initially tied her up. I had even been checking my phone to read up on how I might have done a better job of tying her up.
She hadn’t finished her plate. “Let’s go then,” she said as she stood up and wiped her mouth.
“Are you guys really serious?” Hope found it impossible to believe. My brothers stood up with mirthful smiles.
“Let me go pee first,” Misty suggested before adding that there was a blue tarp in the garage, we could put under her. “Do you mind if I wear this collar again?” she asked Hope. Misty didn’t wait for permission. She put it around her neck and locked the clasp. She was excited and ready to go for round two.
We assembled in the garage and waited for my mom to finish going to the bathroom. “Show me how to tie ropes like that?” my youngest brother Trent asked. I told him that I was still learning myself.
Hope sat down at the table like a crow sitting on the fence post to malign the farmer for working in the hot sun. “Mom is fucking stupid to let you three stooges do this to her,” she harumphed. I did not respond to her comment.
My mother walked in completely naked except for the stainless collar. She was holding a small box of dildos and lotions. “I brought my toys. Is that okay? Props are always good, right?”
“How are we supposed to use these?” Trent picked up a white and red latex dildo and examined it.
“Stick them up your ass,” Hope suggested he shove it up his ass. Trent playfully smacked my sister on the arm with the dildo. Hope hissed at him like a cat and smacked him right back.
I pointed out that I planned to bind her arms, and she wouldn’t be able to use them on herself. I was wondering if she’d invite us to use the dildos on her.
“You can just plant one on the seat of a chair,” Mom suggested as she selected a different dildo. She licked the flat base and planted it on the seat of one of the chairs. “Just suspend me over it, and I’ll do the rest.”
I was shocked. My mom had never done anything quite this outlandish before. She obviously didn’t care that we knew she fucked herself with dildos. I guess we always knew that she did – but it was entirely different to see her be so blasé’ about it.
Hope rolled her eyes in disgust.
“I am sure Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong has a plethora of dildos hidden in her room to satisfy her own needs,” my mom countered.
“Oh please, if I get hard up, I can always call up Randy, and he’ll come over and fuck me any time I want,” Hope replied darkly.
Mom gave Hope the stink eye. It wasn’t very fair to bring up my mom’s ex-boyfriend. She HAD dumped him over his alleged interest in Hope. My mom ignored her and began to remove her clit piercing.
“Okay, a few ground rules before we get started, okay?” Mom asked us as she pinched her clit, extended it, and carefully began to remove the jeweled ring from her exposed clit. I was fascinated by what she was doing.
“First, I am not your slave. Okay?”
Misty had established that she wasn’t my slave before the first session. I guess she felt it was important that my brothers hear it. I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that. We weren’t treating her like a “slave.”
We nodded our understanding.
“The last time, you guys got really rough with my clit. It’s not detachable, so I am taking the only part that IS detachable out so that you don’t pull it off,” she said as she dropped the piercing into an ashtray on the table. “I can’t believe I am taking out my clit right for you guys. Okay, let’s see what else? Oh yeah, I am a woman with female parts, and I am going to drip, get sweaty, queef. I may even fart, depending on how things go. I don’t get shocked when I notice your boners when you walk around in your underwear. So can we be cool about it?”
We nodded our understanding, although it was still shocking. My mom surrendered herself to me and reported to the cherry picker. Misty stood flat-footed and allowed me to begin wrapping the rope around her midsection.
“That being said, you can leave if things get too weird for you or you don’t want to do this. Just don’t leave me hanging?”
“You should totally leave Mom up there all night,” Hope suggested wickedly, like a devil succubus sitting on our shoulders whispering wicked ideas. Trent laughed and said that it might be fun.
“I am trusting you guys,” Mom didn’t seem all that concerned we’d take Hope’s suggestion seriously. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” she grabbed her tits and mashed them. “THIS,” she said as she demonstrated how we had mauled her boobs in the first session, “does nothing. I do not think any woman would enjoy that. If you want to tie up a girlfriend in the future, I can assure you that is not doing anything for me. So, unless it does something for you, I’d prefer you not do it,” she said. Then she pinched, pulled, and twisted her nipples and said that would work.
“We’re allowed to do that?” James seemed surprised when my mother basically gave us instructions on how to push her buttons.
“I am not going to be in any position to tell you no, James. You had no problem twisting my clit hood like that earlier, anyway,” Mom explained as I tightened the ropes around her body.
“You said no the entire time,” Trent complained.
“It didn’t stop you,” Mom grinned sheepishly.
“How do we know if you really don’t want us to do something?” James asked.
“You have common sense, James. I am going to be helpless for however long you leave me tied up,” Mom replied while lifting her arms so that I could tie rope around her ribcage and cross her tits so that they were tightly bound.
“Maybe we need a safe word,” I suggested as I watched my mother’s nipples stiffen and her tits start to fill with blood.
“Yeah, the safe word could be ‘fuck me harder,’” My sister joked.
“Obviously, don’t fuck me,” My mom dismissed the notion as absurd and asked which one of us put our finger up her butt. James and Trent looked right at me accusingly. I said it was me.
“Please clip your nails if you are going to do that again,” my mom looked right at me as she made the suggestion. My heart sank. I felt like such a pervert. Then she said we were obviously going to be even.
“Even for what?” Hope asked.
“I barged in on Michael going to town. I told him everybody does it and not to get his panties in a wad about it. That’s when I saw the porn of women being tied up and got this wild hair to try it,” Mom explained calmly.
I was absolutely mortified. My mom had just volunteered to be bound in the nude, and I was the one who felt embarrassed. I tightened the ropes even harder than before and double-wrapped them around her arms so that she could not move them. Mom definitely noticed my demeanor changed.
“Sorry, I did not know it was a secret that you jerk it, Michael. You are a teenager. All guys do until they can’t get it up any longer,” Mom rolled her eyes and bent her knees slightly so I could tie her waist and thighs. “Trust me, if I had been born with a schlong, I’d probably be playing with that constantly. Cocks are way more interesting than just a pee-hole,” she said.
I felt quite the opposite. “Grass is always greener,” I replied as I ran the rope between her legs and crossed it on either side of her labia. I suspended body by pulling her up using the chain pully of the cherry picker. Her body weight was centered at her hips, and it crushed her pussy lips.
“Ouchie,” Mom said. She noticed that I had tied her up differently.
“Why don’t you tie her up so that her arms are over her head?” Trent suggested.
“Because I know what I am doing,” I lied. I was copying the pictures that I had seen of bound women as best as I could. However, none of them were suspended over a dildo. I asked my mom how I could accommodate her request to hover over the dildo and presumably drop herself down on it.
“You are the expert, Michael,” mom smiled. “That’s the fun part about being on the rope. I do not have to think.”
I lifted my mom’s leg and raised it up. Much to my surprise, my mother was limber enough to allow me to stretch her leg above her head. I bound her ankle to the top of the cherry picker, and then I bound her other leg so that her pussy and asshole were exposed to us as she swung. She still couldn’t position herself to be able to sit down on the dildo.
“Oh wow, this is different,” my mom admired how completely helpless she was. Her arms and legs were effectively hog-tied over her head, and both of her holes were visible.
“Jesus, look how big your butthole is,” James noticed. My mom blushed.
“At least you can’t kick us from this position,” Trent seemed relieved.
“You didn’t enjoy that? I thought you’d like it if I fought back,” Mom said. “I don’t know exactly what you guys get out of this. I worried you’d get blue balls seeing me swinging from rope and teasing me. It makes me feel a little guilty that you are doing all the work, and I get all the payoff and attention,” she said.
From my perspective, this was a lot of fun. I did not want to say that; frankly, I wasn’t sure how to explain why I enjoyed tying her up and being in control.
“They are perverts, so they get to smell pussy and see tits,” Hope explained.
“They can find girls their own age, and if they get hard up, they can open a can of tuna and look on the Internet,” Mom joked. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Why don’t you gag her so you don’t have to listen to her cackle?” Hope joked.
My mom opened my mouth as wide as she could in open defiance of her daughter and stuck her tongue out as if to dare Hope to come and try to shut her up. “If you hate this so much, you don’t have to stay and watch?”
“Oh, I can’t stop watching you humiliate yourself. Are you really that horny that this is how you get your kicks?”
“What else can I do, Hope? Whenever I bring over a guy, you come sniffing around and tease him,” my mom was joking. It was kind of mean to suggest that Hope wanted my mother’s ex-boyfriend’s attention, but we often made jokes like that.
Hope flung a sex toy at my mother’s swinging legs and missed her. The dildo fell harmlessly after it bounced off a wall.
“Missed me, missed me, now you’ve got to kiss me,” Misty teased playfully.
“I should go pop some popcorn and see how many times I can hit you in that disgusting fart-hole of yours. Have you seen your asshole? It’s huge.”
I had recently observed that my mother’s butthole was just naturally large. It wasn’t particularly stretched out or gaping – just abnormally large compared to the tight little booty holes you often see online with porn models.
Mom blanched and looked a little defeated as she swung slowly with her feet raised above her head. That was a real surprise. I would have expected Misty to fire off a zinger in response. “You absolutely could,” she admitted calmly but obviously hoping that her daughter wouldn’t do it.
I enjoy writing stories that I would love to read. If you read my stories and enjoy them, the best way you could reward me is to write something along the same themes and genre.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
-
edithdick
- Posts: 266
- Joined: Fri Mar 25, 2022 4:18 am
- Has thanked: 178 times
- Been thanked: 273 times
- Contact:
Re: Chapter 1
This is a weird story for me, but I'll admit it is very well written. Just gonna pick some nits, different fathers but the same mom = half-siblings. Step-siblings are not blood related, think Brady Bunch or Phineas and Ferb for the younger readers.EddieDavidson wrote: ↑Sat Jun 24, 2023 3:18 am We’re technically step-brothers. We have different dads, but all of us share the same mother.
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 19 guests