I say "BDSM" because clearly the married couple will have some power dynamic relationship but don't expect a full on dungeon thing. The story revolves around the discovery of a chair that the couple play with and from there, we'll see.
It is a "by the seat of my pants" story meaning that I have no outline. I am free writing and open to suggestions by private mail on the site (preferably) over the forum. If you want to just tell me not to write/etc though, please do not.
This is an exercise to get my creative mojo back. I don't have appetite for any negativity at all. Constructive though - please, yes.
I decided to intentionally begin where I did with minimal detail and introduce the chair first. I wasn't sure if I could get into writing third person, so I went with through the eyes of Scott telling the story but I am trying minimal introspection/internal dialogue. It's basically third person, it's just Scott knows what people are feeling because he is telling this story well after it happened/based on what they admitted and not as it is happening.
The Shocker (updated part 3 (5/12)
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EddieDavidson
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The Shocker (updated part 3 (5/12)
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Tue May 12, 2026 7:02 am, edited 2 times in total.
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EddieDavidson
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Re: The Shocker (part one - 5/8)
(Revised @ 11:07am EST - 5/8)
"Sit on it," I laughingly suggested to my sister Katie. I was only joking with my big sister, daring her to sit on a novelty electric chair we found in our garage.
"You first." Katie dared me to do the same thing. The chair had been in our garage stacked away with boxes and other junk; we never really questioned why my parents had it.
"I will if someone else does it first," Candace chuckled. My little sister's impish blue eyes twinkled mischievously as she smirked. She was always the first one to raise her hand to try spicy food, ride a wild rollercoaster, and was always disappointed if a haunted house ride wasn't actually scary, so this macabre-looking electric chair in our garage was right up our alley.
It was either an antique replica of a real electric chair, or it was built to resemble something straight out of the early 1920s Industrial era. The well-worn oak surface wasn't treated with paint, but it felt smooth to the touch.
I had no idea why it was there, or who may have made it. It clearly wasn't used to electrocute anyone for real, because the wooden backrest was painted with the words "The Shocker" in faded old-timey block letters.
The chair was stained a deep, muddy brown that suggested decades of grime and sweat. I'd never noticed the smell of oak and leather together until I traced my fingers around the brass and leather wrist straps bolted to the armrests. There were similar straps attached to the ankles and even the neck, but I was positive they were strictly decorative.
The whole thing gave off a mad-scientist vibe, because there were wires, diodes, and metal bits attached to the back that someone had lovingly attached to enhance the retro steampunk look.
I didn't think my parents would do that, because they weren't into nerdy stuff. My mom had stacked a cardboard box of her stuff on the seat of the chair, and I assumed it was abandoned in our garage as some sort of forgotten novelty.
Chris removed the cardboard box from the seat to examine it further. He and I loved nerdy stuff, and I knew this was right up his alley. He examined it the way an archeologist would.
"This belongs in a museum," he said as he traced his fingers over the metal plate embedded as an inset to the wooden chair's seat.
"I think it's an arcade machine," I suggested.
"Where is the quarter slot?" Katie scoffed at my theory. We loved each other, but we also loved teasing one another.
"Sit in it and I'll insert a quarter up your big butt and see if it turns on," I snickered.
"That's not a bad idea," my mother said with a bemused expression, and caught all of us off guard. It was a rainy weekend, and we were bored without anything to really do. I hadn't heard her walk into the garage behind us.
"Sorry, Mommy." Candace was something of a brown noser and the only one of us to still address our mother as Mommy.
"I am not mad, but you shouldn't mess around with this. It's plugged in and it could shock the ever-loving bejesus out of you," she said as she walked over to us and examined the cardboard box my brother had just moved.
"Why do you leave it plugged in?" I asked for no real reason. I am just naturally curious.
"Your father and I have two rules in this house," my mom sighed cryptically. I was surprised that she seemed reluctant to explain it. She's always encouraged my inquisitive side and patiently answered any question I ever asked.
If she had just said they forgot to turn it off, or my father was working on it to sell it, I would have bought the answer and moved on. Now, I HAD to know what the story was, and I waited with bated breath.
"One of those rules is that if you are old enough to ask a question, then you are old enough to understand the answer," she offered with an introspective look on her face.
This was getting more and more interesting to me. My mom is not the disciplinarian or the serious one in the house. That is my father's job. My mom is more of the fun-loving, not-so-serious cheerleader who encourages and praises us when we need it.
The last time she gave me that look or told me that rule was when she caught me jerking off in my room. I was so shocked and mortified when she walked in and caught me with my hand on my crank that I wanted to fall into a hole and bury myself.
She didn't yell, she didn't freak out, she didn't leave either. My mom didn't have to tell me to put my dick away, because I pulled my underwear up immediately. There was no judgment on her face at all. She walked across the room and sat down on the bed next to me and had a conversation with me.
She told me that everyone plays with themselves and not to be ashamed of doing what was perfectly natural for someone my age. My mom apologized and promised to knock before coming into my brother's and my room from now on.
She assured me that she wouldn't think less of me, and that I could talk to her about topics like that anytime I had a question. Then she left me to finish what I had started and never spoke of it again.
That's why I was surprised that my mom seemed strangely unwilling to come out with why the chair was plugged in.
"Your father and I use the chair for adult games when you guys are out or gone to bed," she shrugged as she placed the box back on the wooden seat. I knew what she was implying and I didn't feel it was my business to ask any more details. My parents had never been shy about being affectionate with one another, and they both loved each other deeply.
"Adult games? What do you do? See who can sit in it the longest?" Chris smiled. He was blonde, just like his sister, but that's where the differences ended, since Candace sprouted tits last summer.
My mother froze as if her spine tingled, and for the first time in my life, I saw her blush. She is so confident and outgoing that I had never seen her look uncomfortable, and now I had to know more.
"Hah, no. It isn't a game we play for points, Chris. Are you sure you want to know about the chair? Once I tell you, I can't untell you, and it may shock you."
"Zzzaappppp." Chris dramatically pretended the metal on the wrist strap shocked him, and his broad smile was enough for my mom to see that he wanted to know.
Her pretty blue eyes flicked up at me and then the girls. She could see that none of us were going anywhere until we heard about this game.
"It doesn't make that kind of a zap," Mom explained as she showed us a control panel that had been hiding in plain sight between a box of AdvoCare vitamins and an old diaper box that my parents must have had since we were little.
"Neat, a joystick!" Chris immediately went to touch the dial, but my mom cautioned him not to touch it.
"You could call it a JOY stick," she mused, before acknowledging that was unintentionally clever. "I'll have to tell your father that one. He'll think that's funny."
She lovingly traced her finger around the analog dial bolted to the center.
"That dial controls the voltage?" I assumed.
"You'll have to ask your father about all the science stuff when he comes home, if you really want to know, Scott. I just sit in it, I don't know how it works."
"So, Dad punishes YOU by shocking you with it?" Katie's mind immediately went to it being used to punish.
"No, silly! We believe in consequences for bad behavior, but we also believe in positive rewards! Look at the dial, the setting he normally uses on me is exhilarating."
There weren't any numbers on the dial, even though there were ten slots starting clockwise and obviously indicating increased intensity.
1 Little Girl
2 Silly Girl
3 Pathetic
4 Mild
5 Pleasurable
6 Exhilarating
7 Naughty Girl
8 Orgasmo
9 Erotomaniac
10 Never-Never, Please!
"This is so misogynistic!" Katie immediately took umbrage with it, while the rest of us found it amusing.
"It's just like the strength testers they have over at the carnival, Katie," I countered. "If you score low, they call you a girly man, to taunt you into trying harder."
"You would know what they call you when you fail the strength tester," Katie said, pinching my bicep with her fingers to emphasize how wimpy I was, and suggested that I start on the little girl setting.
"No, this chair REALLY isn't for guys," Mom assured us that we wouldn't like it.
"I want to try it," Candace volunteered brightly, and even raised her hand like she was hoping to be called on and granted permission.
"You remind me so much of me," Mom smiled proudly, and seemed pleasantly amused by Candace's enthusiasm. "I think if you saw me sit in the chair once, even you might change your mind, Candy."
"The setting says pleasurable, so how hard could it be?" Candace was already bending over to remove the cardboard box again and sit down.
"Hold your horses, wild thing!" Mom chuckled, holding up her hands to indicate caution. "If you really want to ride the shocker, you can ask your father when he comes home, but don't say I didn't warn you!"
Now, all four of us were excited and eager to understand what could be so scandalous about this device that we had to wait for our father to find out.
"You can control the zapper! Please, Mom? I want to try it out! Does it tingle?" Candace was already sitting down in the chair and insisting that she get a taste of it.
"It does more than tingle, and no, I don't touch the controller," Mom's smile was warm and loving, but there was clearly something she didn't want to tell us.
"So, what does it do?" Katie asked the question that I wanted to ask before I could get out the words.
"We've had this chair in the garage for years. Why do you have to know all about it right now?" Mom asked with a little hesitation, and I noticed her cheeks began to blush again.
I wasn't the type to embarrass anyone (except for my siblings), but I didn't feel bad that my mom was blushing. She glowed, and there was something delicious about her reaction that I didn't fully fathom.
"Mom, you said that if we are old enough to ask the question, then we are old enough to have the answer," I reminded her. Katie gave me a respectful nod when I backed her point with my mom's own logic.
"I did, but it's not something I can explain." My mother seemed confused, reluctant, and slightly amused by being pressed to answer a question that she clearly didn't want to discuss.
"Then show us!" I insisted. "Sit in it and you can reach the knob from there and turn it on yourself."
"As I said, I don't turn the knob on anyone, and well, when you sit in the chair, your wrists are supposed to be buckled in the straps."
I had no real understanding of bondage or BDSM, but something about the vulnerability of being strapped into the chair lit up a lightbulb above my head and turned my screws in a way that made my dick throb.
I had no special interest in my mom as a sexual being, but I wanted to see her demonstrate as much as the rest of us did. "Okay, I'll turn the knob!"
"You'll turn my knob, huh?" Mom made a joke to herself that none of us picked up on as she silently considered her options.
"Come on, don't be a scaredy cat!" Candace chided our mother sweetly.
"Yeah, don't be a little girl!" Katie added on with a little sarcasm.
"I wish you would go back to being a little girl! You are growing up so fast," Mom mused with a knowing smile as she considered her options. Our mom frequently had a knowing smirk like she just heard the punch line to a joke that nobody else knew.
At that moment, she appeared to be at a crossroads and tried to make up her mind.
"Dad is gonna show us anyway," Chris added confidently. I don't know why he said that. He had no special assurance about how our dad might react.
"That's true," Mom admitted, and her blue eyes registered that she had just come to a conclusion. "If I sit in the chair for a few minutes, I think you will change your minds about asking your father to show you more. Will all of you promise not to mess with the chair unless you REALLY want your dad to show you the whole process?"
How could any of us say no to that question?
"Okay, I am going to have to undress," Mom announced like a warning. My mom wasn't stodgy or overly modest in how she dressed, but I'd never seen her in bra and panties, much less completely nude.
"NAKED?" Katie was truly shocked. "Are you going to strip down to sit in the chair when it's your turn, Candace?"
"Sure, why not." Candace's cherubic sweet face turned bright red as she blustered.
"You don't have to sit in the chair after you watch me demonstrate, but if you do then you have to take all your clothes off," Mom warned, before giving us all a chance to back out.
"Mom's bluffing! She wants us to all freak out and not ask any more questions." Katie started to brag confidently, but she stopped when my mom began to pull her tank top over her head.
I instinctively looked away when my mother's naturally tear-drop shaped breasts popped out.
"Oh my gosh, they are just boobs, Scott." Mom stood there and shook them back and forth, causing her tits to slap together. "I never wear a bra at home. I am sure you've seen tits before. There is nothing special about mine."
That wasn't true at all. They were spectacularly sexually arousing, and that's what made me uncomfortable. I didn't process my mother as a sexual being with sexual needs, and her tits weren't supposed to sexually excite me at all.
The big natural areolas and stubby fat nubs out in the open in the garage while the rest of us were fully clothed was another light bulb that began flickering above my head.
It wasn't just that I got to see boobs. It's that I would have felt incredibly insecure and exposed if I had taken my shirt off and everyone else had theirs on. I could only imagine what it was like for my mom.
She blushed, but she made no quick move to hide her knockers from us like my sisters did when Chris or I accidentally walked in on them while they were changing.
"If these make you uncomfortable, you aren't going to like what you see when I take my shorts off, Scott," Mom assured me. I was suddenly embarrassed, even though I assumed it was her that should be.
She wasn't wearing shoes, and all my mom had on was a chain necklace, her wedding band, an anklet, and her jean shorts. She sighed as she unsnapped her denim shorts and gave us time to chicken out. "Okay, don't say that I didn't warn you."
"A thong?!!" Katie was horrified as my mom shimmied the jeans down to her ankles. I didn't think it was any big deal that my mother was wearing a thong until Katie expressed her shock.
"Yep." Mom looked up at her pragmatically and began to roll the tiny white lace thong down her ample thighs.
"You said that I can't wear sexy panties!"
"That's because your father and I want you to enjoy being a girl for as long as you can. There is no rush, Katie." Mom seemed more annoyed than humiliated as she struggled to take them down.
"I am not a girl! I am the oldest! I want panties like that!"
"I am glad you like them." Mom seemed amused by Katie's insistence and not inclined to agree with her at all. "We know you are the oldest. Your body hasn't caught up with the maturity of your brain, and you aren't developed enough to really need them. Can THIS discussion wait until your father gets home?"
Katie silently nodded, but then when my mom stood back up, she shouted, "You don't have any pubes!"
I hadn't looked directly at my mother's private parts when she undressed. I felt guilty for being enticed by her breasts. I intended to avoid the temptation to look at my mom's pussy, but now I simply had to look.
Her pussy lips were puffy, and the slit down the center was wide and smooth, and her clitoral hood protruded out of the tip. Her pussy reminded me of a roast beef sandwich from Arby's that had been turned on its side.
"Yes, it is," Mom said plainly as she noticed our stunned reactions. "It's easier to keep clean and there are other reasons. You girls should both try it."
"No way, I'd be laughed at during sleep overs when other girls saw me like that," Candace looked genuinely frightened by the very idea.
"My fearless daredevil won't pass up a chance to sit on the shocker, but being hairless worries you?"
"Some of the girls at the sleepover tease each other because they are flat chested or haven't started growing pubes," Candace explained.
"Jesus Christ," Chris laughed out loud. "I wanna see what y'all do at these sleep overs where you are inspecting each other's coochies and titties!"
"Yeah, they must have been brutal to Katie, because she's still flat!" I snickered.
"I have been told more than a handful is a waste anyway," Katie snarled at me sourly. She was particularly sensitive that Candace had already developed more than she did.
"That's just something guys who want to get laid say to girls with small boobs," Chris fired back sharply. He was always quick witted when it came to put downs and teasing.
"Do you guys want to tease each other all day, or are you going to buckle me in, so I can finish this and make lunch?" Mom interrupted with a reaction halfway between annoyed and amused. She wasn't the type to genuinely complain.
Mom was already seated on the chair with her shoulders up, wrists on the armrest buckles and calves and ankles against the leather straps. It was clear to me that she was eager to get this over with.
"You can just show us how it works," I extended an offer out of sympathy. I already felt bad enough that we had insisted she demonstrate and put her in this predicament in the first place.
"I won't show you everything. If you really want to see that, you can wait for your father to come home," Mom explained. I could tell she was trying to seem clinical in the same way she had talked to me about jerking off, but this time she was clearly nervous and uncertain. "In order to show you the basics, you have to strap me in. If not, when you turn my knob, I have a tendency to want to bolt off the chair."
My mother's comfort level grew as she finished with a little light humor.
"Gladly." Katie immediately started to buckle our mother's left wrist.
"You have to promise not to leave me here!" Mom insisted firmly.
"No promises," Chris teased as she began to buckle her other wrist.
"Are you going to make lunch?" Mom laughed playfully because she knew that Chris was kidding.
"Scott and Candy, go ahead and do my ankles. You don't have to strap my calves and thighs. I only want you to go up to mild, so you can see how it works."
I didn't even know that there were more straps for calves and thighs under the chair until I knelt down to begin buckling her ankles.
"Jeez, how is it fun to be tied up?" Candace asked with disgust registering on her face as she buckled our mom's ankle to the chair leg.
"That's a question that I wish had a simple answer, sweetie." Mom laughed nervously as she tested the buckles by straining against them with her wrists and ankles.
I was about to remind her that if we were old enough to ask, we were old enough to understand the answer, but she continued by saying that she'd need to give that some thought and explain later.
"Now that you know about the chair, I will have to think about how to answer that question."
I blushed and took my time strapping in all six buckles around her ankles, but I left them loose. I was incredibly intrigued by how things were turning out, but also deeply ashamed of how much I enjoyed it.
"Scott, you aren't doing me any favors, honey. The buckles are there for my protection. Squeeze them as tight as you can. It's like laces on your tennis shoes. If you leave them loose like that, I'll kick and squirm."
"Wow, kick and squirm?" Candace sounded impressed and intrigued.
"You can't kick and squirm if you aren't tied up." Mom's laugh was relief that maybe Candace had answered her own question about why anyone wanted to be tied up.
I hadn't given it much thought, and went with the answer that my mom gave that she'd bolt out of the chair, but there was a lot more to it than that. I just didn't realize it at the time.
"This is like the rollercoaster seatbelt and that restraining bar that comes down when you get in the ride, Candace. It's not supposed to hurt."
"No, this doesn't hurt me at all," Mom assured us.
"Surely, it embarrasses you though? Look how wide you have to sit with your ankles bound to the chair legs," Katie frowned.
"Thanks for reminding me, darling," Mom admitted with a little chagrin. I stood up and noticed that her pussy lips were resting flatly on the metal.
I was immediately worried about her safety. If my balls were where the shock was going to go first, I'd be worried about that.
"Is that where the shock transfers to your body?"
Mom looked down as if she wasn't sure, and then laughed nervously. "It's one place. Your father has a tens unit attached to the back of the unit. You can attach a few of the leads to me, so I can give you a proper little show."
My mom sounded so daring and selfless that I wasn't sure I wanted to do that.
"Is it called a tens unit because there are ten little dangly clips?" Katie was already fiddling with what looked like jagged sharp alligator-mouth-shaped clips attached to wires.
"I have never counted them, but I think there are more than that. Just do one on each of my nipples and ignore the others for now."
"Won't it hurt?" Katie said as she tested the tension of the clip by opening and shutting it on her finger with a pained expression.
"After the first little bite of the alligator clip, I'll barely notice. Are any of you uncomfortable, because you won't want to know where the other clips go."
I had to know, and the question only surged our curiosity.
"Where, up your butt?" Chris joked with a laugh.
My mom's quiet reaction made it seem like he may have hit the nail on the head, but then she shook her head no. "No, I probably should have waited for your father before I did this," Mom admitted with uncharacteristically doubtful regret in her voice, and her bright expression waned.
"I am sorry, Mom, I shouldn't have said that," Chris immediately apologized.
"No, I am not mad about what you said. That's actually not a bad guess," Mom said in a way that made it obvious she had been thinking about something else earlier. "It's just that a bit goes in my mouth so that I don't bite off my tongue, and I won't be able to talk you through the steps on the knob."
I could tell from the faces of the others that I wasn't the only one surprised by my mom's playful reaction to having an electrode shoved up her butt and wondering why it wasn't far off the mark.
"Okay, who is gonna be my dance partner?" Mom asked as she looked directly at me.
"Dance partner?" I was knobby kneed and uncoordinated.
"That's what your father calls it. I am going to be dancing on the seat, and someone has to turn the knob and make me shake. Is that something you are comfortable doing?" she asked.
"I'll do it!" Katie was thrilled at the prospect.
"She asked me first!" I said.
"I don't care who does it. You just need to know that even though I will probably look like I am frying and slobbering, I really am fine, and to keep at it even if I seem to be telling you to stop."
My sister glanced up at me, and surprisingly acquiesced.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank your sister yet. You may not enjoy holding the buzzer. There is a timer on the side. Once we are ready to begin, set it for five minutes and turn the power on to the first click. I won't even feel it. Around thirty seconds in, I want you to set it to two and keep turning it up to the fourth click every thirty seconds until you get to mild, and hold me there for five full minutes. Once you hear the ding, I need you to gradually set the timer again and wait thirty seconds before you drop down a click, until you get to the first click. You can turn it off completely and let me ride out the final thirty seconds. Does that sound too complicated?"
"No," I repeated back the instructions she provided to increase the intensity, and added, "You'll be at mild at a minute thirty, and then in four minutes I'll gradually decrease the intensity for a minute and a half. Is that right?"
"You sound like Mister Spock," my mom laughed dismissively, and didn't do the math in her head to double check my calculations. "I trust your brain over mine when it comes to math, Scott."
Then she looked at the other three. "Okay, Scott is going to be my dance master. Who wants to clip an alligator baby to my nipple?"
"Alligator baby?" Candace smiled excitedly because she loved cute terms like that.
"Those diodes or electrode-thingies or whatever they are called," my mom indicated the clips attached to the modified Tens unit my father must have installed to the back of the shocker. He's an electrician by trade, so this was starting to make sense. "I call them baby alligators. How about you girls each take a boob, so your brothers don't have to touch my tits."
"Are you sure this isn't going to hurt your boobies?" Candace held one of the clips that her sister handed her gingerly, and looked upon my mom with extreme sympathy.
"It's going to sting like an ant bite, but I am a big girl and I can take it. All you have to do is lift one of my little nubbies, put the alligator's teeth on it, and let the alligator have a bite of mommy. I am a pleaser, not a teaser, so it's hard for me too. I won't make you do it if you don't want to, Candy."
"I'll do it, Mom!" Chris raised his hand eagerly like he was expecting to be called upon.
"I haven't forgotten about you, Chris. I have a job for you that you will probably like. You get to shut mommy up for a little while."
"Finally!" Chris teased playfully as he rubbed his hands together like an evil genius after catching James Bond skulking about his evil lair.
"You go first, sis," Candace was still nervously reluctant to attach the alligator clip to our mom's tits. I would have been as well.
"Okay, you asked for it." Katie delicately used two fingers to extend my mom's nipple. "Wow, it's like elastic and slippery!"
Mom frowned and said, "Don't play with me, just clip me, sweetie. I am already embarrassed enough."
Katie held the alligator clip over my mom's nipple ominously, as if she were waiting for my mother to chicken out. When our mom didn't, Katie let the clip bite into our mother's tender nipple flesh. I watched her wince, close her eyes, and seethe as she breathed out the pain for a moment, and she went back to normal.
"See? It's just a clip, and boobs are just skin." My mom assured Katie that it was only a trivial thing to clip her tits with an alligator clip attached to a tens unit. I doubted Katie completely bought that.
Candace abruptly attached a clip to one of her own nipples through her shirt, and screamed out.
"Now, why did you do that, Candy?" Mom looked upon her daughter without any sympathy for her discomfort.
"I wanted to see how it felt before I did it to you," Candace admitted as she removed it. Then she absent-mindedly circled her sore nub through the shirt.
"I can't fault you for that, but I need you to promise me not to come out here and play with mommy and daddy's toys without first talking to your dad about what we are doing out here."
"Yes, Mommy!" Candace assured her with a warm smile. I didn't think of this device as a toy, but I could understand the framing.
"How does your boob feel?" Mom asked.
"It stings and feels swollen," Candace admitted, and likened it more to a bee sting than an ant sting.
"You may be more sensitive than I am," Mom admitted with a shrug. "In about five to ten minutes, you'll probably feel some endorphins kicking in. It's your brain's way of handling pain, and it should throb and tingle in a good way."
Candace seemed eager to find out. She boldly used her long fingernails to squeeze my mom's nipples and pinch them.
"Oh, what are you doing?" My mom's pretty blue eyes widened in shock, and even though she protested, she looked like she enjoyed it.
"Don't you like that? I played with mine a little to make it easier to do this," Candace admitted innocently as she snapped the alligator clip firmly in place around our mom's other nipple. "It's how I like mine to be played with."
This time mom didn't seethe or hiss or even cringe a little.
"Yes, I liked it, but a little too much, probably," Mom admitted with a blush, and thanked her for doing it. "Okay, Chris. There is a leather strap behind my neck."
"This one?" Chris walked behind the shocker and brought up a thick leather strap.
"No, it's thinner. It should have a lot of bite marks and a hole in the center. Do you see it?"
"Yes." Chris extended it so she could see it.
"Grab the other end and bring it around to my mouth. I need you to tie it nice and tight, so that the O is firmly in my mouth. I'll be able to talk a little, but I am going to stick my tongue through it. You need to take the big alligator mama that should be on the leather strap and attach it to my tongue, so that I can't accidentally bite it off. It's not likely I will on mild, but you wanted to see the process. I don’t think it’s necessary to do the whole enchilada when all you wanted was a taste."
"Wow," Chris was stunned. "It's on a wire that's hooked to the back of the chair. Is it going to shock you?"
"A little," Mom shrugged like it was not that big of a deal. "I forgot that the mama does that. It's going to make me drool quite a bit," she admitted.
I almost laughed because I thought she might be kidding and making a strange joke.
“I thought you said you only wanted two electrodes attached,” I asked for clarification.
“I don’t know all the science to it, Scott,” Mom dismissed my concern. “I should have said only two baby alligators, and I forgot about the mama. Never forget about your mama,” she joked sweetly.
"I won't make you guys watch me slobber and flop around, so once you have the gag and mama gator on me securely, I will nod and raise one thumb." Mom showed us how she could raise her thumb. "There is a leather hood. I want you to put it over my head. You can get started after that with the timer, and DO NOT LEAVE ME out here. I want you to unbuckle me right after I finish dancing."
"Of course we won't, Mom! Who would make lunch for us?" Chris laughed as he buckled the gag around her face. I was surprised that mom didn't resist. She opened her mouth wide and cooperated so that he could line the circle up inside her mouth, and then she bit down on it. "Are you ready?"
"I am ALWAYS ready," my mother replied instinctively in a mumble. I've heard her say that anytime Dad asked if she was ready to go somewhere or do something.
Chris was delighted to gag our mom. It was like a fun game to him. Spit was already starting to gather on the corner of her lips and the tip of her tongue.
I didn't know it was called a "ring gag," but it gave the impression that my mom was stuck singing a high note with her mouth held wide open. She looked a bit foolish with her tongue wiggling out of the center like a sea monster's tentacle, but all I could think about was how sexy it would be to gag a woman that wasn't my mother.
I just couldn't imagine any girl willingly allowing you to gag her. I assumed it was something kidnappers did to keep their victims quiet, and didn't associate it with sex, even though my dick involuntarily stiffened in my jeans.
I was just thankful that everyone else's eyes were on my mother's reaction to Chris snapping a much bigger metal clip down on her extended tongue. No one noticed me reach down to my jeans and shift my dick as my mother's pained reaction sent the most awkward boner signals to my brain that I'd ever had in my life.
"Mmmmmmmmmttthttthttffffttth," she seethed in anguish when he let the heavy clip bite into the tender, wet flesh of her pink tongue.
"Are you okay?" Chris asked, clearly feeling a little guilty about how much he smiled when he let the clamp dig into our mom's tongue.
She held up her thumb positively. I noticed the trace of a tear forming at the corner of her eye. I was very surprised that my father would do this as part of a lover's game. It wasn't like any naughty game I could have imagined at the time with my limited experience.
I've peeped on my sisters masturbating when they weren't aware I was watching, but the casual way that my mom allowed us to watch and even participate in something this intimate unintentionally planted seeds for naughty fantasies in my head that never existed before.
"Hoodtthttth," she reminded Chris as she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Her legs were splayed wide open, and I saw her pussy begin to drip clear syrup before we even began. I didn't know what that even was at the time.
Chris put the leather hood on my mom's head and looked for eye sockets so she could see. "There are no eye sockets!" he said in a panic.
I saw her put her thumb up to acknowledge that.
"Get started, Goober," Katie reminded me as I stood there dumbfounded and tried to get my head around why she was blindfolded and gagged.
I set the timer quickly and pressed the button. I assumed I would hear something. I asked her if it was working and she held her thumb up, and even signaled to me that I shouldn't wait. I could go higher.
A part of me wondered if our mom was playing some elaborate trick on us when I turned the knob to the second click much earlier than she told me to do it. I saw no physical reaction or "dance," and I really suspected that she wasn't feeling anything. If that was the case, this would be the strangest prank of all time.
She held her thumb up and indicated I should increase the intensity earlier than she said. "I already did," I said to her.
Her reply was to silently redouble raising her thumb like she was hitchhiking and nod to make it obvious she was ready for click three.
"Okay, here is pathetic!" I announced dramatically as I turned the knob again. Once again, I saw no physical reaction and heard nothing, so I thought it wasn't working. I heard her groan with frustration and immediately raise her thumb to signal I could go higher.
"You said once every thirty seconds. You haven't even been on the chair for twenty seconds total," I explained.
She rolled her head in frustration and jerked her thumb up and down eagerly as far as her bound wrist allowed. I barely noticed that mom's pussy was starting to get incredibly slick as she sat fully exposed on the metal plate and willingly let it shock her.
Yet, she barely moved a muscle, other than to indicate I could go higher.
I felt obliged to do as I was told and announced this was "mild," reminding her this was as high as she told me to raise it.
I saw her thumb go down for just a moment as she rested her hand on the arm rest, and then she began to jerk it upward.
"Are you really suggesting I should go higher?" I asked, and she immediately nodded. I noticed her stomach starting to quiver and her nipples stiffen as she murmured weakly under the leather hood.
"What should I do?" I asked the others. I assumed this may be a test and I might fail if I went over the limit I was given. I may have already failed by increasing the intensity too quickly.
Her thumb shot up again to indicate I should go higher. The others encouraged me like I was a contestant on the Price is Right and needed to raise my bid to win the showcase showdown. "This is pleasurable!" I announced, and with one tiny click increased the intensity to the level higher than my mom had originally told me to give her.
I still heard nothing. I expected some sort of audible buzz like a mosquito buzzer. I watched her hand hover and flatten like a Blackjack player in a casino telling the dealer that she wanted to stay on the hand she was dealt. I noticed her stomach began to quiver and her butt cheeks began to wiggle as if she were sitting on a hot plate.
Her head slowly rolled from side to side and she struggled a little against the bonds.
"Is it hot to the touch?" Candace reached down to the metal plate that my mom was sitting on and gently tapped it before pulling her finger off and kissing it.
"What did it feel like?" I asked.
"Touch it yourself," Candace giggled sweetly.
I saw my mom shake her head no, but I wasn't sure if that was meant for me or she wanted me to back down the power. "Do you want me to back down the power, Mom?"
She shook her head no, and raised her thumb up and down as if she wanted me to go higher.
"Higher?" I asked with shock.
She nodded yes, and with reluctance I announced exhilarating. Now, I started to hear something that was a very mild buzz, and I watched as she flopped a little on the seat and occasionally pulled her butt off the metal and then rested back down on her dripping pussy. Goosebumps began to raise all over her body, especially around her nipples. I assumed she was either flexing her breasts, or the shock was causing her tits to involuntarily spasm on their own.
"Fucking A!" Chris was impressed.
"Chris!" I hushed him. We never cussed around our parents.
"I'm watching my mom's tits shake. I think I can say fucking A, Scott," Chris laughed. "Do you want to go higher?" he asked her. I shook my head silently that wasn't advisable. We were already two clicks above where she told us we should go.
My mom didn't respond. Instead, she seemed lost in her own world, writhing and grinding her pussy down on the electricity like she was painting it with her pussy lips or giving an invisible man a lap dance.
We were only two minutes in and she still had three and a half minutes to go. "Does this mean that I should start your cool down a minute earlier?" I asked for clarification, because if I were stepping things down every thirty seconds by one click, I may possibly have to start earlier or risk keeping my mother dancing longer than she was willing to in the electric chair.
I could see why my mom didn't want to turn the joystick. It seemed like an awesome responsibility to be trusted with initially, but now I wasn't sure of what to do, and felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants.
My mom was unresponsive. She simply twisted her hips, and struggled against the bindings.
"She's not saying anything. What should I do?" I asked Katie.
"Oh, now your older sister gets consulted? You wanted the job. I wouldn't do anything until the timer runs out."
Katie was no help. I asked Chris and Candace, but the two of them were giggling to one another about my mom's indecent gyrations and not paying attention to my concerns.
I stayed the course and watched my mom writhe as beads of sweat started to emerge across her tummy. I noticed her pussy opening up like a Hibiscus flower that was blossoming, and slimy clear liquid covered the metal plate on the chair while she dragged her pussy lips across it in what I assumed felt like torture.
Mom started to mewl through the leather hood rhythmically, like she was trying to tell me to stop the shocker or decrease the intensity. She was about a minute away from the five minute mark, and every second ticked by slower than the last. I finally shouted, "Should I bring the intensity down?" because it seemed like she had enough and was reaching some kind of crescendo.
I couldn't reach a conclusion about what she wanted me to do, and so in a panic and out of a sense of caution I turned the intensity down only one click. "NOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" mumbled authentic frustration came over me as my mom made it obvious that I had chosen incorrectly. She bucked her hips.
"Put it back?" I asked with my fingers on the joystick. She shook her head no like I missed the opportunity. What I didn't know at the time was that she was about to have one hell of an orgasm, and I had just ruined it for her. There was no getting that initial groove back now, so she gave me hand signals that told me I should just turn it all off.
Once I turned the machine off, I heard her moaning in agony and frustration. I didn't process at the time it was my timing when she was close that had caused that. I just assumed she was always that way after the end. We heard her mumble something like "out" or "off," and Chris removed the hood.
Mom's blonde hair was all messed up and sweaty, and she looked weak and manic, but not angry. There was a passiveness to her like a tiger that had been tamed, and the way her soft blue eyes seemed placated made me feel like I may have done a good job.
Chris unclipped her tongue, and she spoke as soon as she was able to, even though she had the gag in her mouth. "Why did you keep changing the intensity?"
"You told me to do that!"
"Didn't I tell you not to listen to me once I was strapped in?" she seemed annoyed with me and frustrated. The girls didn't need to be told to remove the baby alligator clips from her tits. We started to immediately unbuckle her.
"I am sorry, Mom!"
"It's okay, sweetheart," Mom said as she started to come back down from the experience. "I don't remember now if I actually stressed that when I am in the chair, I don't want control. It's like putting a gas pedal and a brake on a rollercoaster. I just assumed you would know that I shouldn't tell you to up it or not. What level did I get to?"
"Um, you told me to put it on exhilarating," I answered apologetically.
"Okay, good. You did your best, and I heard you being worried about me, so I am not mad or anything. I am used to getting close and not getting to finish."
I didn't know what my mom meant by that, and I don't think any of us did at the time, because no one acknowledged it.
"I made a very sticky, sweaty mess, didn't I?" she noticed as she tapped her finger on the sticky residue that she left behind. It smelled pungent and musky. She was still blushing as she got to her knees and stood a little wobbly. "I am to … I mean, um," she giggled and smiled as if she had just received a telepathic signal that interrupted her train of thought.
I didn't know it at the time, but her orgasm was happening right then and there and dripping down her thighs.
"Oh my, well you did well after all. I am going to go clean up and have some lady time, then I'll start lunch."
She stumbled forward a few times before getting her balance with a giggle, grabbed her clothes and didn't bother putting them on as she walked across the house to her bedroom.
"Sit on it," I laughingly suggested to my sister Katie. I was only joking with my big sister, daring her to sit on a novelty electric chair we found in our garage.
"You first." Katie dared me to do the same thing. The chair had been in our garage stacked away with boxes and other junk; we never really questioned why my parents had it.
"I will if someone else does it first," Candace chuckled. My little sister's impish blue eyes twinkled mischievously as she smirked. She was always the first one to raise her hand to try spicy food, ride a wild rollercoaster, and was always disappointed if a haunted house ride wasn't actually scary, so this macabre-looking electric chair in our garage was right up our alley.
It was either an antique replica of a real electric chair, or it was built to resemble something straight out of the early 1920s Industrial era. The well-worn oak surface wasn't treated with paint, but it felt smooth to the touch.
I had no idea why it was there, or who may have made it. It clearly wasn't used to electrocute anyone for real, because the wooden backrest was painted with the words "The Shocker" in faded old-timey block letters.
The chair was stained a deep, muddy brown that suggested decades of grime and sweat. I'd never noticed the smell of oak and leather together until I traced my fingers around the brass and leather wrist straps bolted to the armrests. There were similar straps attached to the ankles and even the neck, but I was positive they were strictly decorative.
The whole thing gave off a mad-scientist vibe, because there were wires, diodes, and metal bits attached to the back that someone had lovingly attached to enhance the retro steampunk look.
I didn't think my parents would do that, because they weren't into nerdy stuff. My mom had stacked a cardboard box of her stuff on the seat of the chair, and I assumed it was abandoned in our garage as some sort of forgotten novelty.
Chris removed the cardboard box from the seat to examine it further. He and I loved nerdy stuff, and I knew this was right up his alley. He examined it the way an archeologist would.
"This belongs in a museum," he said as he traced his fingers over the metal plate embedded as an inset to the wooden chair's seat.
"I think it's an arcade machine," I suggested.
"Where is the quarter slot?" Katie scoffed at my theory. We loved each other, but we also loved teasing one another.
"Sit in it and I'll insert a quarter up your big butt and see if it turns on," I snickered.
"That's not a bad idea," my mother said with a bemused expression, and caught all of us off guard. It was a rainy weekend, and we were bored without anything to really do. I hadn't heard her walk into the garage behind us.
"Sorry, Mommy." Candace was something of a brown noser and the only one of us to still address our mother as Mommy.
"I am not mad, but you shouldn't mess around with this. It's plugged in and it could shock the ever-loving bejesus out of you," she said as she walked over to us and examined the cardboard box my brother had just moved.
"Why do you leave it plugged in?" I asked for no real reason. I am just naturally curious.
"Your father and I have two rules in this house," my mom sighed cryptically. I was surprised that she seemed reluctant to explain it. She's always encouraged my inquisitive side and patiently answered any question I ever asked.
If she had just said they forgot to turn it off, or my father was working on it to sell it, I would have bought the answer and moved on. Now, I HAD to know what the story was, and I waited with bated breath.
"One of those rules is that if you are old enough to ask a question, then you are old enough to understand the answer," she offered with an introspective look on her face.
This was getting more and more interesting to me. My mom is not the disciplinarian or the serious one in the house. That is my father's job. My mom is more of the fun-loving, not-so-serious cheerleader who encourages and praises us when we need it.
The last time she gave me that look or told me that rule was when she caught me jerking off in my room. I was so shocked and mortified when she walked in and caught me with my hand on my crank that I wanted to fall into a hole and bury myself.
She didn't yell, she didn't freak out, she didn't leave either. My mom didn't have to tell me to put my dick away, because I pulled my underwear up immediately. There was no judgment on her face at all. She walked across the room and sat down on the bed next to me and had a conversation with me.
She told me that everyone plays with themselves and not to be ashamed of doing what was perfectly natural for someone my age. My mom apologized and promised to knock before coming into my brother's and my room from now on.
She assured me that she wouldn't think less of me, and that I could talk to her about topics like that anytime I had a question. Then she left me to finish what I had started and never spoke of it again.
That's why I was surprised that my mom seemed strangely unwilling to come out with why the chair was plugged in.
"Your father and I use the chair for adult games when you guys are out or gone to bed," she shrugged as she placed the box back on the wooden seat. I knew what she was implying and I didn't feel it was my business to ask any more details. My parents had never been shy about being affectionate with one another, and they both loved each other deeply.
"Adult games? What do you do? See who can sit in it the longest?" Chris smiled. He was blonde, just like his sister, but that's where the differences ended, since Candace sprouted tits last summer.
My mother froze as if her spine tingled, and for the first time in my life, I saw her blush. She is so confident and outgoing that I had never seen her look uncomfortable, and now I had to know more.
"Hah, no. It isn't a game we play for points, Chris. Are you sure you want to know about the chair? Once I tell you, I can't untell you, and it may shock you."
"Zzzaappppp." Chris dramatically pretended the metal on the wrist strap shocked him, and his broad smile was enough for my mom to see that he wanted to know.
Her pretty blue eyes flicked up at me and then the girls. She could see that none of us were going anywhere until we heard about this game.
"It doesn't make that kind of a zap," Mom explained as she showed us a control panel that had been hiding in plain sight between a box of AdvoCare vitamins and an old diaper box that my parents must have had since we were little.
"Neat, a joystick!" Chris immediately went to touch the dial, but my mom cautioned him not to touch it.
"You could call it a JOY stick," she mused, before acknowledging that was unintentionally clever. "I'll have to tell your father that one. He'll think that's funny."
She lovingly traced her finger around the analog dial bolted to the center.
"That dial controls the voltage?" I assumed.
"You'll have to ask your father about all the science stuff when he comes home, if you really want to know, Scott. I just sit in it, I don't know how it works."
"So, Dad punishes YOU by shocking you with it?" Katie's mind immediately went to it being used to punish.
"No, silly! We believe in consequences for bad behavior, but we also believe in positive rewards! Look at the dial, the setting he normally uses on me is exhilarating."
There weren't any numbers on the dial, even though there were ten slots starting clockwise and obviously indicating increased intensity.
1 Little Girl
2 Silly Girl
3 Pathetic
4 Mild
5 Pleasurable
6 Exhilarating
7 Naughty Girl
8 Orgasmo
9 Erotomaniac
10 Never-Never, Please!
"This is so misogynistic!" Katie immediately took umbrage with it, while the rest of us found it amusing.
"It's just like the strength testers they have over at the carnival, Katie," I countered. "If you score low, they call you a girly man, to taunt you into trying harder."
"You would know what they call you when you fail the strength tester," Katie said, pinching my bicep with her fingers to emphasize how wimpy I was, and suggested that I start on the little girl setting.
"No, this chair REALLY isn't for guys," Mom assured us that we wouldn't like it.
"I want to try it," Candace volunteered brightly, and even raised her hand like she was hoping to be called on and granted permission.
"You remind me so much of me," Mom smiled proudly, and seemed pleasantly amused by Candace's enthusiasm. "I think if you saw me sit in the chair once, even you might change your mind, Candy."
"The setting says pleasurable, so how hard could it be?" Candace was already bending over to remove the cardboard box again and sit down.
"Hold your horses, wild thing!" Mom chuckled, holding up her hands to indicate caution. "If you really want to ride the shocker, you can ask your father when he comes home, but don't say I didn't warn you!"
Now, all four of us were excited and eager to understand what could be so scandalous about this device that we had to wait for our father to find out.
"You can control the zapper! Please, Mom? I want to try it out! Does it tingle?" Candace was already sitting down in the chair and insisting that she get a taste of it.
"It does more than tingle, and no, I don't touch the controller," Mom's smile was warm and loving, but there was clearly something she didn't want to tell us.
"So, what does it do?" Katie asked the question that I wanted to ask before I could get out the words.
"We've had this chair in the garage for years. Why do you have to know all about it right now?" Mom asked with a little hesitation, and I noticed her cheeks began to blush again.
I wasn't the type to embarrass anyone (except for my siblings), but I didn't feel bad that my mom was blushing. She glowed, and there was something delicious about her reaction that I didn't fully fathom.
"Mom, you said that if we are old enough to ask the question, then we are old enough to have the answer," I reminded her. Katie gave me a respectful nod when I backed her point with my mom's own logic.
"I did, but it's not something I can explain." My mother seemed confused, reluctant, and slightly amused by being pressed to answer a question that she clearly didn't want to discuss.
"Then show us!" I insisted. "Sit in it and you can reach the knob from there and turn it on yourself."
"As I said, I don't turn the knob on anyone, and well, when you sit in the chair, your wrists are supposed to be buckled in the straps."
I had no real understanding of bondage or BDSM, but something about the vulnerability of being strapped into the chair lit up a lightbulb above my head and turned my screws in a way that made my dick throb.
I had no special interest in my mom as a sexual being, but I wanted to see her demonstrate as much as the rest of us did. "Okay, I'll turn the knob!"
"You'll turn my knob, huh?" Mom made a joke to herself that none of us picked up on as she silently considered her options.
"Come on, don't be a scaredy cat!" Candace chided our mother sweetly.
"Yeah, don't be a little girl!" Katie added on with a little sarcasm.
"I wish you would go back to being a little girl! You are growing up so fast," Mom mused with a knowing smile as she considered her options. Our mom frequently had a knowing smirk like she just heard the punch line to a joke that nobody else knew.
At that moment, she appeared to be at a crossroads and tried to make up her mind.
"Dad is gonna show us anyway," Chris added confidently. I don't know why he said that. He had no special assurance about how our dad might react.
"That's true," Mom admitted, and her blue eyes registered that she had just come to a conclusion. "If I sit in the chair for a few minutes, I think you will change your minds about asking your father to show you more. Will all of you promise not to mess with the chair unless you REALLY want your dad to show you the whole process?"
How could any of us say no to that question?
"Okay, I am going to have to undress," Mom announced like a warning. My mom wasn't stodgy or overly modest in how she dressed, but I'd never seen her in bra and panties, much less completely nude.
"NAKED?" Katie was truly shocked. "Are you going to strip down to sit in the chair when it's your turn, Candace?"
"Sure, why not." Candace's cherubic sweet face turned bright red as she blustered.
"You don't have to sit in the chair after you watch me demonstrate, but if you do then you have to take all your clothes off," Mom warned, before giving us all a chance to back out.
"Mom's bluffing! She wants us to all freak out and not ask any more questions." Katie started to brag confidently, but she stopped when my mom began to pull her tank top over her head.
I instinctively looked away when my mother's naturally tear-drop shaped breasts popped out.
"Oh my gosh, they are just boobs, Scott." Mom stood there and shook them back and forth, causing her tits to slap together. "I never wear a bra at home. I am sure you've seen tits before. There is nothing special about mine."
That wasn't true at all. They were spectacularly sexually arousing, and that's what made me uncomfortable. I didn't process my mother as a sexual being with sexual needs, and her tits weren't supposed to sexually excite me at all.
The big natural areolas and stubby fat nubs out in the open in the garage while the rest of us were fully clothed was another light bulb that began flickering above my head.
It wasn't just that I got to see boobs. It's that I would have felt incredibly insecure and exposed if I had taken my shirt off and everyone else had theirs on. I could only imagine what it was like for my mom.
She blushed, but she made no quick move to hide her knockers from us like my sisters did when Chris or I accidentally walked in on them while they were changing.
"If these make you uncomfortable, you aren't going to like what you see when I take my shorts off, Scott," Mom assured me. I was suddenly embarrassed, even though I assumed it was her that should be.
She wasn't wearing shoes, and all my mom had on was a chain necklace, her wedding band, an anklet, and her jean shorts. She sighed as she unsnapped her denim shorts and gave us time to chicken out. "Okay, don't say that I didn't warn you."
"A thong?!!" Katie was horrified as my mom shimmied the jeans down to her ankles. I didn't think it was any big deal that my mother was wearing a thong until Katie expressed her shock.
"Yep." Mom looked up at her pragmatically and began to roll the tiny white lace thong down her ample thighs.
"You said that I can't wear sexy panties!"
"That's because your father and I want you to enjoy being a girl for as long as you can. There is no rush, Katie." Mom seemed more annoyed than humiliated as she struggled to take them down.
"I am not a girl! I am the oldest! I want panties like that!"
"I am glad you like them." Mom seemed amused by Katie's insistence and not inclined to agree with her at all. "We know you are the oldest. Your body hasn't caught up with the maturity of your brain, and you aren't developed enough to really need them. Can THIS discussion wait until your father gets home?"
Katie silently nodded, but then when my mom stood back up, she shouted, "You don't have any pubes!"
I hadn't looked directly at my mother's private parts when she undressed. I felt guilty for being enticed by her breasts. I intended to avoid the temptation to look at my mom's pussy, but now I simply had to look.
Her pussy lips were puffy, and the slit down the center was wide and smooth, and her clitoral hood protruded out of the tip. Her pussy reminded me of a roast beef sandwich from Arby's that had been turned on its side.
"Yes, it is," Mom said plainly as she noticed our stunned reactions. "It's easier to keep clean and there are other reasons. You girls should both try it."
"No way, I'd be laughed at during sleep overs when other girls saw me like that," Candace looked genuinely frightened by the very idea.
"My fearless daredevil won't pass up a chance to sit on the shocker, but being hairless worries you?"
"Some of the girls at the sleepover tease each other because they are flat chested or haven't started growing pubes," Candace explained.
"Jesus Christ," Chris laughed out loud. "I wanna see what y'all do at these sleep overs where you are inspecting each other's coochies and titties!"
"Yeah, they must have been brutal to Katie, because she's still flat!" I snickered.
"I have been told more than a handful is a waste anyway," Katie snarled at me sourly. She was particularly sensitive that Candace had already developed more than she did.
"That's just something guys who want to get laid say to girls with small boobs," Chris fired back sharply. He was always quick witted when it came to put downs and teasing.
"Do you guys want to tease each other all day, or are you going to buckle me in, so I can finish this and make lunch?" Mom interrupted with a reaction halfway between annoyed and amused. She wasn't the type to genuinely complain.
Mom was already seated on the chair with her shoulders up, wrists on the armrest buckles and calves and ankles against the leather straps. It was clear to me that she was eager to get this over with.
"You can just show us how it works," I extended an offer out of sympathy. I already felt bad enough that we had insisted she demonstrate and put her in this predicament in the first place.
"I won't show you everything. If you really want to see that, you can wait for your father to come home," Mom explained. I could tell she was trying to seem clinical in the same way she had talked to me about jerking off, but this time she was clearly nervous and uncertain. "In order to show you the basics, you have to strap me in. If not, when you turn my knob, I have a tendency to want to bolt off the chair."
My mother's comfort level grew as she finished with a little light humor.
"Gladly." Katie immediately started to buckle our mother's left wrist.
"You have to promise not to leave me here!" Mom insisted firmly.
"No promises," Chris teased as she began to buckle her other wrist.
"Are you going to make lunch?" Mom laughed playfully because she knew that Chris was kidding.
"Scott and Candy, go ahead and do my ankles. You don't have to strap my calves and thighs. I only want you to go up to mild, so you can see how it works."
I didn't even know that there were more straps for calves and thighs under the chair until I knelt down to begin buckling her ankles.
"Jeez, how is it fun to be tied up?" Candace asked with disgust registering on her face as she buckled our mom's ankle to the chair leg.
"That's a question that I wish had a simple answer, sweetie." Mom laughed nervously as she tested the buckles by straining against them with her wrists and ankles.
I was about to remind her that if we were old enough to ask, we were old enough to understand the answer, but she continued by saying that she'd need to give that some thought and explain later.
"Now that you know about the chair, I will have to think about how to answer that question."
I blushed and took my time strapping in all six buckles around her ankles, but I left them loose. I was incredibly intrigued by how things were turning out, but also deeply ashamed of how much I enjoyed it.
"Scott, you aren't doing me any favors, honey. The buckles are there for my protection. Squeeze them as tight as you can. It's like laces on your tennis shoes. If you leave them loose like that, I'll kick and squirm."
"Wow, kick and squirm?" Candace sounded impressed and intrigued.
"You can't kick and squirm if you aren't tied up." Mom's laugh was relief that maybe Candace had answered her own question about why anyone wanted to be tied up.
I hadn't given it much thought, and went with the answer that my mom gave that she'd bolt out of the chair, but there was a lot more to it than that. I just didn't realize it at the time.
"This is like the rollercoaster seatbelt and that restraining bar that comes down when you get in the ride, Candace. It's not supposed to hurt."
"No, this doesn't hurt me at all," Mom assured us.
"Surely, it embarrasses you though? Look how wide you have to sit with your ankles bound to the chair legs," Katie frowned.
"Thanks for reminding me, darling," Mom admitted with a little chagrin. I stood up and noticed that her pussy lips were resting flatly on the metal.
I was immediately worried about her safety. If my balls were where the shock was going to go first, I'd be worried about that.
"Is that where the shock transfers to your body?"
Mom looked down as if she wasn't sure, and then laughed nervously. "It's one place. Your father has a tens unit attached to the back of the unit. You can attach a few of the leads to me, so I can give you a proper little show."
My mom sounded so daring and selfless that I wasn't sure I wanted to do that.
"Is it called a tens unit because there are ten little dangly clips?" Katie was already fiddling with what looked like jagged sharp alligator-mouth-shaped clips attached to wires.
"I have never counted them, but I think there are more than that. Just do one on each of my nipples and ignore the others for now."
"Won't it hurt?" Katie said as she tested the tension of the clip by opening and shutting it on her finger with a pained expression.
"After the first little bite of the alligator clip, I'll barely notice. Are any of you uncomfortable, because you won't want to know where the other clips go."
I had to know, and the question only surged our curiosity.
"Where, up your butt?" Chris joked with a laugh.
My mom's quiet reaction made it seem like he may have hit the nail on the head, but then she shook her head no. "No, I probably should have waited for your father before I did this," Mom admitted with uncharacteristically doubtful regret in her voice, and her bright expression waned.
"I am sorry, Mom, I shouldn't have said that," Chris immediately apologized.
"No, I am not mad about what you said. That's actually not a bad guess," Mom said in a way that made it obvious she had been thinking about something else earlier. "It's just that a bit goes in my mouth so that I don't bite off my tongue, and I won't be able to talk you through the steps on the knob."
I could tell from the faces of the others that I wasn't the only one surprised by my mom's playful reaction to having an electrode shoved up her butt and wondering why it wasn't far off the mark.
"Okay, who is gonna be my dance partner?" Mom asked as she looked directly at me.
"Dance partner?" I was knobby kneed and uncoordinated.
"That's what your father calls it. I am going to be dancing on the seat, and someone has to turn the knob and make me shake. Is that something you are comfortable doing?" she asked.
"I'll do it!" Katie was thrilled at the prospect.
"She asked me first!" I said.
"I don't care who does it. You just need to know that even though I will probably look like I am frying and slobbering, I really am fine, and to keep at it even if I seem to be telling you to stop."
My sister glanced up at me, and surprisingly acquiesced.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank your sister yet. You may not enjoy holding the buzzer. There is a timer on the side. Once we are ready to begin, set it for five minutes and turn the power on to the first click. I won't even feel it. Around thirty seconds in, I want you to set it to two and keep turning it up to the fourth click every thirty seconds until you get to mild, and hold me there for five full minutes. Once you hear the ding, I need you to gradually set the timer again and wait thirty seconds before you drop down a click, until you get to the first click. You can turn it off completely and let me ride out the final thirty seconds. Does that sound too complicated?"
"No," I repeated back the instructions she provided to increase the intensity, and added, "You'll be at mild at a minute thirty, and then in four minutes I'll gradually decrease the intensity for a minute and a half. Is that right?"
"You sound like Mister Spock," my mom laughed dismissively, and didn't do the math in her head to double check my calculations. "I trust your brain over mine when it comes to math, Scott."
Then she looked at the other three. "Okay, Scott is going to be my dance master. Who wants to clip an alligator baby to my nipple?"
"Alligator baby?" Candace smiled excitedly because she loved cute terms like that.
"Those diodes or electrode-thingies or whatever they are called," my mom indicated the clips attached to the modified Tens unit my father must have installed to the back of the shocker. He's an electrician by trade, so this was starting to make sense. "I call them baby alligators. How about you girls each take a boob, so your brothers don't have to touch my tits."
"Are you sure this isn't going to hurt your boobies?" Candace held one of the clips that her sister handed her gingerly, and looked upon my mom with extreme sympathy.
"It's going to sting like an ant bite, but I am a big girl and I can take it. All you have to do is lift one of my little nubbies, put the alligator's teeth on it, and let the alligator have a bite of mommy. I am a pleaser, not a teaser, so it's hard for me too. I won't make you do it if you don't want to, Candy."
"I'll do it, Mom!" Chris raised his hand eagerly like he was expecting to be called upon.
"I haven't forgotten about you, Chris. I have a job for you that you will probably like. You get to shut mommy up for a little while."
"Finally!" Chris teased playfully as he rubbed his hands together like an evil genius after catching James Bond skulking about his evil lair.
"You go first, sis," Candace was still nervously reluctant to attach the alligator clip to our mom's tits. I would have been as well.
"Okay, you asked for it." Katie delicately used two fingers to extend my mom's nipple. "Wow, it's like elastic and slippery!"
Mom frowned and said, "Don't play with me, just clip me, sweetie. I am already embarrassed enough."
Katie held the alligator clip over my mom's nipple ominously, as if she were waiting for my mother to chicken out. When our mom didn't, Katie let the clip bite into our mother's tender nipple flesh. I watched her wince, close her eyes, and seethe as she breathed out the pain for a moment, and she went back to normal.
"See? It's just a clip, and boobs are just skin." My mom assured Katie that it was only a trivial thing to clip her tits with an alligator clip attached to a tens unit. I doubted Katie completely bought that.
Candace abruptly attached a clip to one of her own nipples through her shirt, and screamed out.
"Now, why did you do that, Candy?" Mom looked upon her daughter without any sympathy for her discomfort.
"I wanted to see how it felt before I did it to you," Candace admitted as she removed it. Then she absent-mindedly circled her sore nub through the shirt.
"I can't fault you for that, but I need you to promise me not to come out here and play with mommy and daddy's toys without first talking to your dad about what we are doing out here."
"Yes, Mommy!" Candace assured her with a warm smile. I didn't think of this device as a toy, but I could understand the framing.
"How does your boob feel?" Mom asked.
"It stings and feels swollen," Candace admitted, and likened it more to a bee sting than an ant sting.
"You may be more sensitive than I am," Mom admitted with a shrug. "In about five to ten minutes, you'll probably feel some endorphins kicking in. It's your brain's way of handling pain, and it should throb and tingle in a good way."
Candace seemed eager to find out. She boldly used her long fingernails to squeeze my mom's nipples and pinch them.
"Oh, what are you doing?" My mom's pretty blue eyes widened in shock, and even though she protested, she looked like she enjoyed it.
"Don't you like that? I played with mine a little to make it easier to do this," Candace admitted innocently as she snapped the alligator clip firmly in place around our mom's other nipple. "It's how I like mine to be played with."
This time mom didn't seethe or hiss or even cringe a little.
"Yes, I liked it, but a little too much, probably," Mom admitted with a blush, and thanked her for doing it. "Okay, Chris. There is a leather strap behind my neck."
"This one?" Chris walked behind the shocker and brought up a thick leather strap.
"No, it's thinner. It should have a lot of bite marks and a hole in the center. Do you see it?"
"Yes." Chris extended it so she could see it.
"Grab the other end and bring it around to my mouth. I need you to tie it nice and tight, so that the O is firmly in my mouth. I'll be able to talk a little, but I am going to stick my tongue through it. You need to take the big alligator mama that should be on the leather strap and attach it to my tongue, so that I can't accidentally bite it off. It's not likely I will on mild, but you wanted to see the process. I don’t think it’s necessary to do the whole enchilada when all you wanted was a taste."
"Wow," Chris was stunned. "It's on a wire that's hooked to the back of the chair. Is it going to shock you?"
"A little," Mom shrugged like it was not that big of a deal. "I forgot that the mama does that. It's going to make me drool quite a bit," she admitted.
I almost laughed because I thought she might be kidding and making a strange joke.
“I thought you said you only wanted two electrodes attached,” I asked for clarification.
“I don’t know all the science to it, Scott,” Mom dismissed my concern. “I should have said only two baby alligators, and I forgot about the mama. Never forget about your mama,” she joked sweetly.
"I won't make you guys watch me slobber and flop around, so once you have the gag and mama gator on me securely, I will nod and raise one thumb." Mom showed us how she could raise her thumb. "There is a leather hood. I want you to put it over my head. You can get started after that with the timer, and DO NOT LEAVE ME out here. I want you to unbuckle me right after I finish dancing."
"Of course we won't, Mom! Who would make lunch for us?" Chris laughed as he buckled the gag around her face. I was surprised that mom didn't resist. She opened her mouth wide and cooperated so that he could line the circle up inside her mouth, and then she bit down on it. "Are you ready?"
"I am ALWAYS ready," my mother replied instinctively in a mumble. I've heard her say that anytime Dad asked if she was ready to go somewhere or do something.
Chris was delighted to gag our mom. It was like a fun game to him. Spit was already starting to gather on the corner of her lips and the tip of her tongue.
I didn't know it was called a "ring gag," but it gave the impression that my mom was stuck singing a high note with her mouth held wide open. She looked a bit foolish with her tongue wiggling out of the center like a sea monster's tentacle, but all I could think about was how sexy it would be to gag a woman that wasn't my mother.
I just couldn't imagine any girl willingly allowing you to gag her. I assumed it was something kidnappers did to keep their victims quiet, and didn't associate it with sex, even though my dick involuntarily stiffened in my jeans.
I was just thankful that everyone else's eyes were on my mother's reaction to Chris snapping a much bigger metal clip down on her extended tongue. No one noticed me reach down to my jeans and shift my dick as my mother's pained reaction sent the most awkward boner signals to my brain that I'd ever had in my life.
"Mmmmmmmmmttthttthttffffttth," she seethed in anguish when he let the heavy clip bite into the tender, wet flesh of her pink tongue.
"Are you okay?" Chris asked, clearly feeling a little guilty about how much he smiled when he let the clamp dig into our mom's tongue.
She held up her thumb positively. I noticed the trace of a tear forming at the corner of her eye. I was very surprised that my father would do this as part of a lover's game. It wasn't like any naughty game I could have imagined at the time with my limited experience.
I've peeped on my sisters masturbating when they weren't aware I was watching, but the casual way that my mom allowed us to watch and even participate in something this intimate unintentionally planted seeds for naughty fantasies in my head that never existed before.
"Hoodtthttth," she reminded Chris as she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Her legs were splayed wide open, and I saw her pussy begin to drip clear syrup before we even began. I didn't know what that even was at the time.
Chris put the leather hood on my mom's head and looked for eye sockets so she could see. "There are no eye sockets!" he said in a panic.
I saw her put her thumb up to acknowledge that.
"Get started, Goober," Katie reminded me as I stood there dumbfounded and tried to get my head around why she was blindfolded and gagged.
I set the timer quickly and pressed the button. I assumed I would hear something. I asked her if it was working and she held her thumb up, and even signaled to me that I shouldn't wait. I could go higher.
A part of me wondered if our mom was playing some elaborate trick on us when I turned the knob to the second click much earlier than she told me to do it. I saw no physical reaction or "dance," and I really suspected that she wasn't feeling anything. If that was the case, this would be the strangest prank of all time.
She held her thumb up and indicated I should increase the intensity earlier than she said. "I already did," I said to her.
Her reply was to silently redouble raising her thumb like she was hitchhiking and nod to make it obvious she was ready for click three.
"Okay, here is pathetic!" I announced dramatically as I turned the knob again. Once again, I saw no physical reaction and heard nothing, so I thought it wasn't working. I heard her groan with frustration and immediately raise her thumb to signal I could go higher.
"You said once every thirty seconds. You haven't even been on the chair for twenty seconds total," I explained.
She rolled her head in frustration and jerked her thumb up and down eagerly as far as her bound wrist allowed. I barely noticed that mom's pussy was starting to get incredibly slick as she sat fully exposed on the metal plate and willingly let it shock her.
Yet, she barely moved a muscle, other than to indicate I could go higher.
I felt obliged to do as I was told and announced this was "mild," reminding her this was as high as she told me to raise it.
I saw her thumb go down for just a moment as she rested her hand on the arm rest, and then she began to jerk it upward.
"Are you really suggesting I should go higher?" I asked, and she immediately nodded. I noticed her stomach starting to quiver and her nipples stiffen as she murmured weakly under the leather hood.
"What should I do?" I asked the others. I assumed this may be a test and I might fail if I went over the limit I was given. I may have already failed by increasing the intensity too quickly.
Her thumb shot up again to indicate I should go higher. The others encouraged me like I was a contestant on the Price is Right and needed to raise my bid to win the showcase showdown. "This is pleasurable!" I announced, and with one tiny click increased the intensity to the level higher than my mom had originally told me to give her.
I still heard nothing. I expected some sort of audible buzz like a mosquito buzzer. I watched her hand hover and flatten like a Blackjack player in a casino telling the dealer that she wanted to stay on the hand she was dealt. I noticed her stomach began to quiver and her butt cheeks began to wiggle as if she were sitting on a hot plate.
Her head slowly rolled from side to side and she struggled a little against the bonds.
"Is it hot to the touch?" Candace reached down to the metal plate that my mom was sitting on and gently tapped it before pulling her finger off and kissing it.
"What did it feel like?" I asked.
"Touch it yourself," Candace giggled sweetly.
I saw my mom shake her head no, but I wasn't sure if that was meant for me or she wanted me to back down the power. "Do you want me to back down the power, Mom?"
She shook her head no, and raised her thumb up and down as if she wanted me to go higher.
"Higher?" I asked with shock.
She nodded yes, and with reluctance I announced exhilarating. Now, I started to hear something that was a very mild buzz, and I watched as she flopped a little on the seat and occasionally pulled her butt off the metal and then rested back down on her dripping pussy. Goosebumps began to raise all over her body, especially around her nipples. I assumed she was either flexing her breasts, or the shock was causing her tits to involuntarily spasm on their own.
"Fucking A!" Chris was impressed.
"Chris!" I hushed him. We never cussed around our parents.
"I'm watching my mom's tits shake. I think I can say fucking A, Scott," Chris laughed. "Do you want to go higher?" he asked her. I shook my head silently that wasn't advisable. We were already two clicks above where she told us we should go.
My mom didn't respond. Instead, she seemed lost in her own world, writhing and grinding her pussy down on the electricity like she was painting it with her pussy lips or giving an invisible man a lap dance.
We were only two minutes in and she still had three and a half minutes to go. "Does this mean that I should start your cool down a minute earlier?" I asked for clarification, because if I were stepping things down every thirty seconds by one click, I may possibly have to start earlier or risk keeping my mother dancing longer than she was willing to in the electric chair.
I could see why my mom didn't want to turn the joystick. It seemed like an awesome responsibility to be trusted with initially, but now I wasn't sure of what to do, and felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants.
My mom was unresponsive. She simply twisted her hips, and struggled against the bindings.
"She's not saying anything. What should I do?" I asked Katie.
"Oh, now your older sister gets consulted? You wanted the job. I wouldn't do anything until the timer runs out."
Katie was no help. I asked Chris and Candace, but the two of them were giggling to one another about my mom's indecent gyrations and not paying attention to my concerns.
I stayed the course and watched my mom writhe as beads of sweat started to emerge across her tummy. I noticed her pussy opening up like a Hibiscus flower that was blossoming, and slimy clear liquid covered the metal plate on the chair while she dragged her pussy lips across it in what I assumed felt like torture.
Mom started to mewl through the leather hood rhythmically, like she was trying to tell me to stop the shocker or decrease the intensity. She was about a minute away from the five minute mark, and every second ticked by slower than the last. I finally shouted, "Should I bring the intensity down?" because it seemed like she had enough and was reaching some kind of crescendo.
I couldn't reach a conclusion about what she wanted me to do, and so in a panic and out of a sense of caution I turned the intensity down only one click. "NOOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" mumbled authentic frustration came over me as my mom made it obvious that I had chosen incorrectly. She bucked her hips.
"Put it back?" I asked with my fingers on the joystick. She shook her head no like I missed the opportunity. What I didn't know at the time was that she was about to have one hell of an orgasm, and I had just ruined it for her. There was no getting that initial groove back now, so she gave me hand signals that told me I should just turn it all off.
Once I turned the machine off, I heard her moaning in agony and frustration. I didn't process at the time it was my timing when she was close that had caused that. I just assumed she was always that way after the end. We heard her mumble something like "out" or "off," and Chris removed the hood.
Mom's blonde hair was all messed up and sweaty, and she looked weak and manic, but not angry. There was a passiveness to her like a tiger that had been tamed, and the way her soft blue eyes seemed placated made me feel like I may have done a good job.
Chris unclipped her tongue, and she spoke as soon as she was able to, even though she had the gag in her mouth. "Why did you keep changing the intensity?"
"You told me to do that!"
"Didn't I tell you not to listen to me once I was strapped in?" she seemed annoyed with me and frustrated. The girls didn't need to be told to remove the baby alligator clips from her tits. We started to immediately unbuckle her.
"I am sorry, Mom!"
"It's okay, sweetheart," Mom said as she started to come back down from the experience. "I don't remember now if I actually stressed that when I am in the chair, I don't want control. It's like putting a gas pedal and a brake on a rollercoaster. I just assumed you would know that I shouldn't tell you to up it or not. What level did I get to?"
"Um, you told me to put it on exhilarating," I answered apologetically.
"Okay, good. You did your best, and I heard you being worried about me, so I am not mad or anything. I am used to getting close and not getting to finish."
I didn't know what my mom meant by that, and I don't think any of us did at the time, because no one acknowledged it.
"I made a very sticky, sweaty mess, didn't I?" she noticed as she tapped her finger on the sticky residue that she left behind. It smelled pungent and musky. She was still blushing as she got to her knees and stood a little wobbly. "I am to … I mean, um," she giggled and smiled as if she had just received a telepathic signal that interrupted her train of thought.
I didn't know it at the time, but her orgasm was happening right then and there and dripping down her thighs.
"Oh my, well you did well after all. I am going to go clean up and have some lady time, then I'll start lunch."
She stumbled forward a few times before getting her balance with a giggle, grabbed her clothes and didn't bother putting them on as she walked across the house to her bedroom.
Last edited by EddieDavidson on Fri May 08, 2026 4:18 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: The Shocker (part one - 5/4)
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Chapter Two
As surreal as that experience had been, none of us talked about it after mom left to clean up, except to note what a sweaty mess she looked like and how wet she left her seat. It was like a footnote and then none of us talked about it again.
We weren’t traumatized about it. I think we were all surprised but at the same time, it made sense. Our mom had always been a little different than other moms.
She didn’t parade around naked, she didn’t make a show of her sexual interests, but I could actually see how she might do something this kinky.
The part that I was still trying to get my head around was how normal my mom had made it all seem. She finished her time on the shocker, and then just went and showered like it was not that big of a deal.
No one teased me about how I handled the clicker device, which we now universally called a joystick. The four of us went about our day much like we would any rainy Saturday afternoon and waited for her to come back and make lunch.
She took a lot longer than a few minutes, but she seemed completely rejuvenated, and focused when she returned with a fresh change of clothes. My mother was typically carefree, loving and happy and she seemed completely unashamed of what happened but didn’t talk about it at all.
I had so many questions, but I didn’t ask because no one else talked about what had just happened.
It seemed like the entire event was a dream and hadn’t happened. “Oh shoot, I forgot to buy any lunch meat. Do you guys mind grilled cheese and tomato soup?” was the first thing she asked us after coming back.
No one seemed to mind, as mom put together our lunch. She excused herself after we finished and went to the garage to clean the girly goo from her seat like it was something as trivial as vacuuming the floor.
When my father got home, he gave his customary hug and kiss and noted she seemed particularly happy with a knowing grin. “Did somebody come over and bring you a little gift?” he asked her with a wink.
“Nobody came,” my mom made her double entendre a little too obvious to have bothered speaking in code. I had never noticed before, but it was suddenly obvious to me that my parents were swingers.
“Um, no I was on the Shocker,” Mom admitted with a mirthful smile as she looked at us.
“What did I say about playing when I am not home?” My father initially seemed only mildly angry and appeared more concerned that she had admitted she played in the chair in front of us.
“They know,” she said of the four of us. “They found the chair in the garage and asked about how it worked. I know we both believe in being open and honest, and since they were old enough to ask, they were old enough that you’d have no problem with it, so I showed them.”
Dad’s anger quickly subsided and he looked at us skeptically and considered his next words. He had a tendency not to speak right away and used an economy of words. He could say more with one sentence and an arched eyebrow than I could with two or three paragraphs.
“You couldn’t have waited until I got home?” he asked politely.
“I just showed them the basics. I was worried that one of the girls might get curious and want to sit in it without knowing how it worked.”
“Is that something you girls want to try?”
“Yes!!” Candace bounced up and down and raised her hand eagerly.
“Zap myself with my tits out? Hard pass,” Katie frowned.
“You won’t know if you like something until you try it,” Dad said to Katie and told her she was welcome to change her mind anytime. “Your mom and I have always known both of you might have a submissive side. I think it’s in your DNA.”
“What is Dee and A, Daddy?” Candace asked dumbly. I assumed she was pretending to be dumb, because it was something she did around mom and dad a lot. She usually seemed far more mature when she wasn’t around them.
“It’s the sticky white stuff that drips out of your twat after you get passed around at a party,” Katie snickered playfully. My father didn't respond to the joke but I found it pretty funny. Candace and my sister often tease each other about who has the higher body count sexually.
I know it’s going to sound like we are meanies to one another, but the joke landed perfectly and even Candace chuckled. It was just friendly/naughty banter between sisters.
“What I mean is that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and I see your mom in both of you. There is nothing wrong with being submissive. It takes a quiet strength to be useful, friendly, positive and concern yourself with the pleasure of others without expecting anything in return.”
He looked at my mother with admiration as he said that. It was obvious he was paying her a compliment. I’d never heard him call her submissive before, but our introduction to the Shocker changed how much he was willing to share with us.
“I am very selfish, honey,” my mom admitted with a joyful grin. “I got my jollies, and I love pleasing others. I don’t mind cleaning the house and taking care of things. I am no saint. I get lazy and unmotivated like anyone else, but I get off on gratitude. When you guys show me that you appreciate what I do, it makes it easier to stay motivated.”
We piled on some compliments, because our mom took on the lion share of the housework.
“Did all four of you take turns working the dial?”
I explained that we called it a joystick and that I had been the only one to turn it.
“The entire hour?” he asked in disbelief. “No one else wanted to give it a go?”
“I only asked them to let me dance for five minutes, dear,” Mom admitted sweetly.
“How did you feel after five minutes?” he asked me with an arched eyebrow.
“It was fine,” I shrugged. I didn’t want to seem too eager but I couldn’t stop thinking about the intense experience.
“I am asking if you felt guilty about frying your mom’s ass. I assumed Chris or Katie would have fought you for the opportunity,” he looked at us to explain.
“Hell yeah, do I get to play with the joystick next time?” Chris gushed.
“You play with your joystick every chance you get,” his twin sister teased him. “I’d like to play with it…”
“My joystick?” Chris snickered.
“No, on the shocker!! You know what I meant, Chris!!” she blushed. “Is it okay if I get a turn too?” Candace gave our mom an apologetic glance.
“Mom’s ass will look like a well-done steak if we all get turns, but I am the oldest so I should be up next,” Katie added without a trace of sympathy. She shrugged after there was a pause and said “Hey, if mom likes it, then why not? Candace, I’d definitely make you sizzle, if you don’t chicken out first!”
“What about you, slugger? You actually turned the clicker. Was five minutes enough or would you want to try again?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I’d do it again, if mom doesn’t mind,” I said.
“Before I let any of you turn the clicker or sit in the hot seat, I am going to make sure that I feel you know what you are doing,” he said as he kissed my mother again. “Are you ready to dance?”
“I am always ready,” my mom assured him eagerly with a bright cheery expression. “I just need to go pee, first!”
“Do what you have to do, hurry up and don’t play around. Strip down upstairs and meet us in the garage in about five minutes.”
My mom glanced at us, and blushed. She’d never walked around the house naked in front of us. I noticed that my father hadn’t asked my mom if she wanted to be shocked. He simply asked her if she was ready.
I wondered if she felt a little embarrassed that my dad didn’t ask her if she minded being a training lesson for us.
Dad walked us into the garage to wait for our mother to join us. He started rifling through the cardboard box on the chair. There were handcuffs, riding crops, duct tape, sex lube and adult toys inside the box.
“Can I try sitting on the chair, Daddy?” Candace smiled enthusiastically.
“I want you to see how your mom looks after an hour on the chair, and then we can discuss it another day. I am not going to do back to back sessions, but I will tell you one thing that goes for your mother as well. You don’t ask or beg to play. If I decide you can dance on the shocker, I’ll be the one to tell you.”
Candace nodded demurely and didn’t hide her disappointment.
“I don’t want you going to any of the others to ask them to put you on the chair, or playing by yourself, either. I am going to ease you into it. I didn’t start your mom out at maximum intensity and you might just need a little taste to decide that isn’t how you get off.”
“If Mom can do it, I can do it,” my sister declared confidentially.
“Do you do a lot of anal, now?” Dad’s question seemed like it came out of the blue.
“What? NO!! That’s gross,” Candace recoiled and scrunched her nose in disgust! “I don't take it in the poopy hole!”
Our father looked genuinely confused, as if he hadn’t understood a word that Candace just said. “How are you going to sit on the door knob?”
Dad picked up a toy in the toy box that looked like a stubby stainless steel bullet with a metal base. He called it a “Door Knob” and made it obvious that it had been designed to be attached to the metal base of the shocker’s seat.
He quickly surmised from our lack of awareness that it was a butt plug that Mom hadn’t demonstrated it to us. “If you are going to sit on the shocker, this goes in your asshole.”
“That’s HUGE!” Candace’s blue eyes widened as she acknowledged that was not something she was ready to do. She even placed her hands over the back of her shorts subconsciously protecting her ass from the very idea of being penetrated.
“Jeez, Mom’s butthole must be so loose that turds just slide right out,” Chris joked playfully.
“What about mom’s butthole?” Mom strode confidently into the room, barefoot and naked. She wasn’t offended and flashed a naughty grin.
“I think you gave the four of them the impression this was a lot easier than it is, dear,” Dad held up the plug.
“Oh,” Mom stopped and blushed as he handed her the heavy weighted sex toy. “I didn’t know we were going to go all the way.”
“They may as well see the right way,” Dad admitted as he pointed out that there were two smaller but otherwise identical plugs. “This is socket,” he held up the smallest one. “Candace, I’ll start you out with this if you are still interested in the chair.”
She took it gingerly and sniffed it.
“Did you just sniff a plug that had been up mom’s butt?” Katie laughed hysterically, and Chris joined in. I may have chuckled.
Candace’s face turned red and she couldn’t explain why she had instinctively brought it to her nose.
“It’s okay, dear. I haven’t had socket in my butt in many years, and I assure you I clean ALL of my toys thoroughly after each use,” My mom assured her sweetly as she sucked on the door knob sized plug to get it wet with her spit.
“You clean them with your mouth?” I asked in disgust.
“I am just getting it wet so that it slides up my butt,” Mom’s confidence waned as she blushed. “I wash them by hand, or sometimes the dishwasher when y’all aren’t here,” she said.
“Now that you know about our toys, we aren’t going to hide them. If they are in the dishwasher when you are home, that’s just how it will be,” Dad decided. “I don’t want any of you playing with the toys without asking me first,” he spoke to the girls and not Chris and me.
“Do I need to um…ask to play with Socket?” Candace asked reluctantly.
“You can borrow Socket, even if you don’t want to be in the chair. Let your mom show you how to insert and some stretching exercises to prepare your anus. You date so many guys, I am surprised that you aren’t doing anal.”
“NO!” Candace insisted a little more aggressively than she had intended. I could tell for the first time in her life she was thinking about sticking something up her ass and wondering if she might like it.
“What about you, Katie?” Mom asked as she licked the plug again. “Do you do anal with your boyfriends?”
“Gah, that’s none of your business,” Katie snarled. She was clearly offended by the question.
“You guys know my secrets, you can tell me yours,” our mom said as she reached behind herself and worked the tip of that plug up her ass. I couldn’t see her insert it, and she did it gingerly without rushing. “My mom always taught me that butts don’t get pregnant, so I wouldn’t need birth control as long as I learned to take it up the ass.”
“Gross! You poop from there,” Chris snickered as he watched my mom wriggle it into her ass while facing us.
“I don’t right now, and I keep my asshole squeaky clean, Chris. I learned a long time ago that most men enjoy taking a plunge in a sweet and tight asshole.”
“That’s why when anyone ever gets ripped off they say that you got fucked in the ass,” Katie said sarcastically, before asking “It may be fun for the guy, but you don’t enjoy it do you?”
My mother’s face and body language reflected her discomfort and embarrassment but her bald pussy was already starting to drip the clear cream from earlier. “It’s something I learned to enjoy, and I like pleasing others,” she let the words hang in the air.
The admission that she pleased “others” and not just my father was not lost on me but no one else mentioned it.
“Did you see your mom’s tattoo?” Dad asked. He directed her to lift her tits with a silent wave of his hands.
My mom had been using both hands behind her back to work the plug up her ass. She let it go and lifted her nipples up to reveal a hidden tattoo.
“Any hole, any man, any time, any where,” I read the tattoo out loud in a puzzled tone.
The four of us covered our mouths while trying to stifle our giggles as my mom blushed.
“Hey mom, how are you holding that door knob up if your hands are on your tits,” Chris made a wisecrack and clearly didn’t expect an answer.
Mom turned around and showed us, even though she didn’t have to do that. The plug was all the way up her ass, and the base touched all sides of her butt cheeks.
“Holy shit,” he stumbled over his words in a combination of disbelief and respect.
“I can move it back and forth,” she demonstrated by twitching her muscles that she could force the plug to move slightly in either direction.
“How are you doing that, Mommy?” Candace was fascinated, like she was watching a magic trick.
“When you start wearing the Socket, she can show you how to do Kegels and pucker your asshole.”
“REALLY?” Candace was mortified and at the same time secretly excited and she blushed.
“Yes, you will need to practice at least a few hours a day and I can show you, honey. It’s not as painful or nasty as you may think it is. I’ll give you an enema and you will have a poopy-free booty!”
“Will it take away her farts, too?” I snickered. Seeing who could fart the loudest at the dinner table was always a source of amusement for us, and my little sister often won.
“There may actually be some air that escapes and makes a farty-noise, Scott, but it’s perfectly natural, and you guys aren’t making it any easier for your sister by teasing her,” Mom assured us.
“Teasing is how we show love,” I reminded her of something she told us many times. “We can tease each other because we love and accept each other. It’s not meant to be taken personally.”
“I am glad you said that,” My mom’s eyes filled with joyful pride. She hugged me tightly and gave me a quick harmless kiss on the lips. It was something she did so often that I rarely thought about it, except this time she was completely nude. Her stiff nipples poked right into my chest through the material of my shirt.
“We’ve never been hard-asses with you about trying to pretend to be polite because we know that in places like that it just creates resentment and saying rotten stuff behind each other’s back.”
“So, can I tease my sister and mom if I walk in on them putting stuff up their butts?” Katie snickered playfully.
“Yes, absolutely,” Dad said. “As long as it’s not done out of cruelty or malicious, I’d rather you have fun with it.”
My mom released me from my hug but remained close. Candace continued to look a little apprehensive and embarrassed.
Wait a minute,” Chris held up a finger with a wry grin. “Let me see if I have this straight,” he was clearly about to ask another wise-ass question to add on to what our older sister had just asked, and his face was already turning red with amused embarrassment. “Where exactly are the two of them going to be practicing butthole aerobics for a few hours a day? I want to be able to make a few pot-shots.”
“Wherever,” Dad answered dismissively.
“In the living room and kitchen?” I asked facetiously.
“No, we wouldn’t want to make it a spectacle or make you guys uncomfortable, especially if you bring friends over,” Mom answered without giving it much thought.
My father nodded in agreement and added “Yes, when you bring your mother in here to dance, I don’t want you inviting any of your friends over to watch. This is something that I am trusting the four of you with, but I am going to make sure you fully understand it. It’s not something I am ashamed of but I also don’t advertise it to the neighbors. I expect you to keep it between us.”
I hadn’t expected him to say that.
“So, we can tell mom to get naked and stick a plug up her butt anytime we want?” Katie grinned wickedly at the very possibility. She wasn’t surprised when my father denied her request.
“No, obviously there has to be limits,” Dad said as he looked at my mom. “Let’s buckle your mom in safely and securely,” he said as he directed his wife to sit down in the Shocker.
Mom sat down with her knees apart, and he showed us four long screws with wingnuts that were through the holes in the plug base to secure it to the seat.
“If I think you can handle this, and you don’t abuse the privilege then you can take your mom in to the garage on your own when she isn’t busy,” Dad said as he forced her legs apart wide enough that he could reach the screws.
“Every day?” Chris asked as my father finished screwing the plug down tightly with his hands.
“Every day, what?” Dad placed two metal cylinders into slotted holes on the arm wrists and used a washer and screws to bolt them down.
“You said we could bring mom in here on our own? Would it be every day? Like Candace’s butt practice?” Chris grinned wickedly.
“I didn’t say that I was going to DO butt practice,” Candace pouted and blushed. I think we all knew that she probably would, but I hadn’t thought about it being seven days a week and I don’t think our father had given it much thought either.
“I didn’t mean it has to be two hours a day. I said it makes sense to practice a few hours a day, but it can be as often or as little as you want, Candy,” Mom said sweetly.
I have to admit, that my dick was unsure why it was hard but it was stubbornly throbbing and this conversation was making it hard not to go jerk off just so that I wasn’t thinking so many perverted thoughts.
“If Candy gets to tell you to teach her Butthole Ring Gymnastics any time and any day she wants, then I should be able to zap the two of you anytime I want.”
“Mommy can call me, Candy, but you have to call me Candace, and I never said that I was going to make mom show me how to do Butthole anything, or let YOU zap me, Chris Hunter!”
“You don’t like being called, Candy?” Mom asked with a hurt expression on her face as we tightened the straps up and down her wrists, ankles, and even her calves and thighs.
“You can, Mommy! When Chris does it, he’s teasing me! You do it because you think I am sweet like Candy.”
Mom smiled and agreed. She’d said that many times. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, dear,” My mom was about to tell my sister something that would change how we saw her forever. “Sometimes your father and his friends tease me pretty mercilessly when I am on the Shocker. They call it my slut throne and call me Barbie the human cock squasher. I kind of get off on it.”
“You like being called a cock squasher?” Katie sneered in disbelief.
My mom’s face fell a little and she clearly regretted her admission. “I don’t mind when I am dancing and it makes it kind of fun. I don’t take it personally.”
“So, can we call you Barbie Doll when we bring you in here to zap your heiney-hole every day?” Katie asked the question sarcastically. It was obvious she was just trying to call out a double standard and didn’t expect our mom to say yes.
“You can call me Barbie Doll any time you want, dear! That’s a cute nickname.”
“REALLY?” Katie seemed eager to try it out and addressed our mom as Barbie Doll just to hear herself say the name out loud.
“Sure, but you can take what you dish out? Are you going to cry foul if me and your father call you Kitty, again?”
“I am a bit too old to go by Kitty,” my sister shrugged uncomfortably. “I forgot all about my old nickname.”
“If it was up to me, I would have named you Kitty because you were mama’s first cute little kitten and Candy was my last.”
“What would you have named me, Mom?” Chris asked curiously as he tugged the strap to her final wrist binding.
She wrapped her fist around the cylinder in the socket and leaned back in the seat with her shoulders straight. “You wouldn’t like it..” she decided.
“Tell me,” He audaciously tickled her bare ribs once she was tied up and she giggled with amusement.
Mom laughed hysterically with a sweet expression. I thought my father or her would say that was too far since mom was naked, but she clearly enjoyed it. The dimples and smile lines on her face were clearly visible as she assured him now, she was definitely going to keep it a secret.
“Tell me,” My brother insisted without a trace of seriousness in his mock interrogation.
“Never!” Mom laughed hysterically.
“Alright guys, let’s get your mom’s neck straps and hands tied,” Dad interrupted and showed us the leather straps.
“I’ll get it out of you when I bring you back for my turn tomorrow!” Chris joked. “Dad, can I fart on mom until she tells me what I want to know?” he asked playfully.
“Don’t make me regret letting you guys bring your mom to the garage,” Dad said as he showed us how the neck straps worked to tie her head back. “You can’t all four take one at a time every day.”
Chris stopped tickling our mom and watched our father secure her neck to the chair.
“Aww, that was fun,” Mom admitted as she recovered from the laughter. Her shoulders were forced all the way back and her head was lifted up. “I don't want y’all fighting over little old me, and your dad only makes me dance a few times a week. You’ll wear me out if you ask me to come out here daily.”
“You don’t ask your mom, and she’s not to ask you to take her, either” Dad said after checking her neck was secure and using leather cord to secure her thumb and fingers to the cylinders she was gripping.
I assumed he had just made up his mind that we were far too immature to be able to do that.
“You just say it’s time to go to the garage. If you leave it up to her, she’ll hem and haw and say that she has things to do.”
“I only did that once, dear,” Mom admitted as my father tightened the strings around her wrists and then secured it to a metal ring on the side of the wood.
“One time too many,” Dad said. “You saw how I did it in the kitchen? I gave her a few minutes to take a piss and told her to be ready. She used to undress in the garage because we were afraid one of you would catch her walking around naked.”
“Honey?” my mom asked if he was certain and began to blush.
“Make sure she really doesn’t have anything pressing. Obviously, if it’s dinnertime or we have company, that’s different. If I am home, I’d appreciate a courtesy request in case I have plans for your mother, but she’s fair game on the weekends and most evenings until about an hour after dinner. I am not going to micromanage the four of you,” Dad told me to tie her other wrist and then secured the ring gag in her mouth.
I was shocked by how casual my father was about making this decision. He wasn’t careless or rough with my mother as he inserted the ring gag and secured it but he was firm. It was a far cry from the gingerly way that we had gagged her earlier.
“If your chores, and school work suffer, or you give us attitude then you can’t play with my Barbie Doll,” Dad snickered. “You will have to work out a rotation that works for you. I don’t want to hear any arguing. You can all four bring her back together, or just a few of you. I don’t care how you decide to do it, but only once a day at most.”
I noticed my mom’s pretty eyes well up, like she was sad and reluctant. She mumbled “Honey, are you sure?”
“I said it, didn’t I?” he asked as pulled her tongue out and clipped the mama gator to it without showing the least bit of hesitation. He clipped it high on my mother’s wet, pink tongue. He twisted the O ring and we discovered that it tightened around her tongue to ensure she couldn’t pull it back into her mouth.
“My friends can play with you anytime they want, and they rarely ever do. I doubt the four of them will want to play with you everyday. The girls have a different boyfriend every week, and Scott and Chris would rather play with their own joysticks and the one on their Xbox than they would yours,” Dad teased.
My mom looked sad, and cringed a little.
“I will say this though, I don’t want you to be sloppy or half-assed. There will be no five-minute sessions without the doorknob. There is a reason why all of these straps are here. Your mom has a tendency to bolt and fight against the restraints, and this is for her protection as much as it is for my amusement,” he pinched her tongue.
Mom made a sound that I imagined an orange would make if it were a person and it was being squeezed.
“I’ll have her write up the procedure to strap her in, but your mom isn’t the director. She doesn’t run this show. You do. If you can’t do that, then you can watch and play when someone else brings her back here as long as you aren’t disruptive. If my friends are over, I expect you to stay out unless I invite you in, if one of them comes over and takes her back to the garage, then you stay out. They may get confused about your roles.”
He looked at my sisters when he said that last part. I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that.
“It’s a minimum of an hour in the chair. I usually give her fifteen minutes to just cool down and stop shaking before I untie her, but as long as you do at least fifteen minutes of aftercare then she will be fine with leaving her on the chair a little longer or taking her off early.”
We were clearly confused by the term aftercare and my father asked “Didn’t one of you give her aftercare?”
Mom shook her head slightly from side to side but since her neck was bound, she couldn’t move her head very much.
“What was the point in showing them the chair and not aftercare?” Dad asked her even though she was gagged. He pulled the eyeless back leather hood down tightly over her head and then tied it tightly around her neck. We had left it open and didn’t realize it had to be secured.
“I am surprised you didn’t show them aftercare. That’s your favorite thing,” he said as he licked his fingers and then pinched my mother’s nipple firmly between thumb and finger.
Mom mewled apologetically in the gag and hood.
“Did she at least show you where the baby alligators go?” Dad asked us as if he thought my mother had been ridiculously brief.
“Some of them,” I admitted.
“I modified several tens units and custom created these wires to be clipped on to the female body in sensitive places that will enhance the experience. They don’t put much power but taken together and consistently, they will make the dance much more enjoyable to watch,” Dad said as he snapped the first clip into her tender nipple.
Mom winced a little.
“Don’t worry about it when she makes those sounds,” Dad pinched her other nipple the same way. “She enjoys it. Go ahead, Scott. Do this one.”
I felt nervous and butterflies began dancing in my stomach as I held my mother’s nipple softly. If she minded, she had no way to stop me from doing it. I felt a little guilty but my father didn’t seem to understand my reluctance.
“No, lick your fingers first, to get it wet. It makes it more conducive to electricity. Did she not tell you that?” My father insisted that I try again and said, “If you want, you can use her pussy juices,” he ran his finger down my mom’s wet slit and sucked the taste off his finger.
“DAD!” Katie and Candace were both shocked, and even Chris stood frozen with surprise.
“I take it she didn’t tell you where seven of the baby alligators swim.”
My father waited for me to attach one of the clips to my mother’s stiff nipple. I felt sorry for her as I let it bite into her flesh and she wriggled a little. The fact that this was something very taboo to be doing with anyone, much less my family had just completely sunk in for me at that moment.
“Guys, you are teenagers now,” Dad looked at us with surprise. “You act like you never touched a pussy before and don’t know they get wet?” he chided us for our immaturity and then pulled one of my mother’s pussy lips out and up so that he could snap a baby alligator’s teeth on the side of it.
My mother flinched briefly and mumbled a soft, incoherent sound that registered somewhere squarely between shame and pleasure.
```
where would you like to see this go? I am inspired by Perseus who said he just dug a family that loved each other and I wanted to show that in a kink friendly family without being too over the top, as we add some fish out of water elements
We weren’t traumatized about it. I think we were all surprised but at the same time, it made sense. Our mom had always been a little different than other moms.
She didn’t parade around naked, she didn’t make a show of her sexual interests, but I could actually see how she might do something this kinky.
The part that I was still trying to get my head around was how normal my mom had made it all seem. She finished her time on the shocker, and then just went and showered like it was not that big of a deal.
No one teased me about how I handled the clicker device, which we now universally called a joystick. The four of us went about our day much like we would any rainy Saturday afternoon and waited for her to come back and make lunch.
She took a lot longer than a few minutes, but she seemed completely rejuvenated, and focused when she returned with a fresh change of clothes. My mother was typically carefree, loving and happy and she seemed completely unashamed of what happened but didn’t talk about it at all.
I had so many questions, but I didn’t ask because no one else talked about what had just happened.
It seemed like the entire event was a dream and hadn’t happened. “Oh shoot, I forgot to buy any lunch meat. Do you guys mind grilled cheese and tomato soup?” was the first thing she asked us after coming back.
No one seemed to mind, as mom put together our lunch. She excused herself after we finished and went to the garage to clean the girly goo from her seat like it was something as trivial as vacuuming the floor.
When my father got home, he gave his customary hug and kiss and noted she seemed particularly happy with a knowing grin. “Did somebody come over and bring you a little gift?” he asked her with a wink.
“Nobody came,” my mom made her double entendre a little too obvious to have bothered speaking in code. I had never noticed before, but it was suddenly obvious to me that my parents were swingers.
“Um, no I was on the Shocker,” Mom admitted with a mirthful smile as she looked at us.
“What did I say about playing when I am not home?” My father initially seemed only mildly angry and appeared more concerned that she had admitted she played in the chair in front of us.
“They know,” she said of the four of us. “They found the chair in the garage and asked about how it worked. I know we both believe in being open and honest, and since they were old enough to ask, they were old enough that you’d have no problem with it, so I showed them.”
Dad’s anger quickly subsided and he looked at us skeptically and considered his next words. He had a tendency not to speak right away and used an economy of words. He could say more with one sentence and an arched eyebrow than I could with two or three paragraphs.
“You couldn’t have waited until I got home?” he asked politely.
“I just showed them the basics. I was worried that one of the girls might get curious and want to sit in it without knowing how it worked.”
“Is that something you girls want to try?”
“Yes!!” Candace bounced up and down and raised her hand eagerly.
“Zap myself with my tits out? Hard pass,” Katie frowned.
“You won’t know if you like something until you try it,” Dad said to Katie and told her she was welcome to change her mind anytime. “Your mom and I have always known both of you might have a submissive side. I think it’s in your DNA.”
“What is Dee and A, Daddy?” Candace asked dumbly. I assumed she was pretending to be dumb, because it was something she did around mom and dad a lot. She usually seemed far more mature when she wasn’t around them.
“It’s the sticky white stuff that drips out of your twat after you get passed around at a party,” Katie snickered playfully. My father didn't respond to the joke but I found it pretty funny. Candace and my sister often tease each other about who has the higher body count sexually.
I know it’s going to sound like we are meanies to one another, but the joke landed perfectly and even Candace chuckled. It was just friendly/naughty banter between sisters.
“What I mean is that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and I see your mom in both of you. There is nothing wrong with being submissive. It takes a quiet strength to be useful, friendly, positive and concern yourself with the pleasure of others without expecting anything in return.”
He looked at my mother with admiration as he said that. It was obvious he was paying her a compliment. I’d never heard him call her submissive before, but our introduction to the Shocker changed how much he was willing to share with us.
“I am very selfish, honey,” my mom admitted with a joyful grin. “I got my jollies, and I love pleasing others. I don’t mind cleaning the house and taking care of things. I am no saint. I get lazy and unmotivated like anyone else, but I get off on gratitude. When you guys show me that you appreciate what I do, it makes it easier to stay motivated.”
We piled on some compliments, because our mom took on the lion share of the housework.
“Did all four of you take turns working the dial?”
I explained that we called it a joystick and that I had been the only one to turn it.
“The entire hour?” he asked in disbelief. “No one else wanted to give it a go?”
“I only asked them to let me dance for five minutes, dear,” Mom admitted sweetly.
“How did you feel after five minutes?” he asked me with an arched eyebrow.
“It was fine,” I shrugged. I didn’t want to seem too eager but I couldn’t stop thinking about the intense experience.
“I am asking if you felt guilty about frying your mom’s ass. I assumed Chris or Katie would have fought you for the opportunity,” he looked at us to explain.
“Hell yeah, do I get to play with the joystick next time?” Chris gushed.
“You play with your joystick every chance you get,” his twin sister teased him. “I’d like to play with it…”
“My joystick?” Chris snickered.
“No, on the shocker!! You know what I meant, Chris!!” she blushed. “Is it okay if I get a turn too?” Candace gave our mom an apologetic glance.
“Mom’s ass will look like a well-done steak if we all get turns, but I am the oldest so I should be up next,” Katie added without a trace of sympathy. She shrugged after there was a pause and said “Hey, if mom likes it, then why not? Candace, I’d definitely make you sizzle, if you don’t chicken out first!”
“What about you, slugger? You actually turned the clicker. Was five minutes enough or would you want to try again?” he asked me.
“Yeah, I’d do it again, if mom doesn’t mind,” I said.
“Before I let any of you turn the clicker or sit in the hot seat, I am going to make sure that I feel you know what you are doing,” he said as he kissed my mother again. “Are you ready to dance?”
“I am always ready,” my mom assured him eagerly with a bright cheery expression. “I just need to go pee, first!”
“Do what you have to do, hurry up and don’t play around. Strip down upstairs and meet us in the garage in about five minutes.”
My mom glanced at us, and blushed. She’d never walked around the house naked in front of us. I noticed that my father hadn’t asked my mom if she wanted to be shocked. He simply asked her if she was ready.
I wondered if she felt a little embarrassed that my dad didn’t ask her if she minded being a training lesson for us.
Dad walked us into the garage to wait for our mother to join us. He started rifling through the cardboard box on the chair. There were handcuffs, riding crops, duct tape, sex lube and adult toys inside the box.
“Can I try sitting on the chair, Daddy?” Candace smiled enthusiastically.
“I want you to see how your mom looks after an hour on the chair, and then we can discuss it another day. I am not going to do back to back sessions, but I will tell you one thing that goes for your mother as well. You don’t ask or beg to play. If I decide you can dance on the shocker, I’ll be the one to tell you.”
Candace nodded demurely and didn’t hide her disappointment.
“I don’t want you going to any of the others to ask them to put you on the chair, or playing by yourself, either. I am going to ease you into it. I didn’t start your mom out at maximum intensity and you might just need a little taste to decide that isn’t how you get off.”
“If Mom can do it, I can do it,” my sister declared confidentially.
“Do you do a lot of anal, now?” Dad’s question seemed like it came out of the blue.
“What? NO!! That’s gross,” Candace recoiled and scrunched her nose in disgust! “I don't take it in the poopy hole!”
Our father looked genuinely confused, as if he hadn’t understood a word that Candace just said. “How are you going to sit on the door knob?”
Dad picked up a toy in the toy box that looked like a stubby stainless steel bullet with a metal base. He called it a “Door Knob” and made it obvious that it had been designed to be attached to the metal base of the shocker’s seat.
He quickly surmised from our lack of awareness that it was a butt plug that Mom hadn’t demonstrated it to us. “If you are going to sit on the shocker, this goes in your asshole.”
“That’s HUGE!” Candace’s blue eyes widened as she acknowledged that was not something she was ready to do. She even placed her hands over the back of her shorts subconsciously protecting her ass from the very idea of being penetrated.
“Jeez, Mom’s butthole must be so loose that turds just slide right out,” Chris joked playfully.
“What about mom’s butthole?” Mom strode confidently into the room, barefoot and naked. She wasn’t offended and flashed a naughty grin.
“I think you gave the four of them the impression this was a lot easier than it is, dear,” Dad held up the plug.
“Oh,” Mom stopped and blushed as he handed her the heavy weighted sex toy. “I didn’t know we were going to go all the way.”
“They may as well see the right way,” Dad admitted as he pointed out that there were two smaller but otherwise identical plugs. “This is socket,” he held up the smallest one. “Candace, I’ll start you out with this if you are still interested in the chair.”
She took it gingerly and sniffed it.
“Did you just sniff a plug that had been up mom’s butt?” Katie laughed hysterically, and Chris joined in. I may have chuckled.
Candace’s face turned red and she couldn’t explain why she had instinctively brought it to her nose.
“It’s okay, dear. I haven’t had socket in my butt in many years, and I assure you I clean ALL of my toys thoroughly after each use,” My mom assured her sweetly as she sucked on the door knob sized plug to get it wet with her spit.
“You clean them with your mouth?” I asked in disgust.
“I am just getting it wet so that it slides up my butt,” Mom’s confidence waned as she blushed. “I wash them by hand, or sometimes the dishwasher when y’all aren’t here,” she said.
“Now that you know about our toys, we aren’t going to hide them. If they are in the dishwasher when you are home, that’s just how it will be,” Dad decided. “I don’t want any of you playing with the toys without asking me first,” he spoke to the girls and not Chris and me.
“Do I need to um…ask to play with Socket?” Candace asked reluctantly.
“You can borrow Socket, even if you don’t want to be in the chair. Let your mom show you how to insert and some stretching exercises to prepare your anus. You date so many guys, I am surprised that you aren’t doing anal.”
“NO!” Candace insisted a little more aggressively than she had intended. I could tell for the first time in her life she was thinking about sticking something up her ass and wondering if she might like it.
“What about you, Katie?” Mom asked as she licked the plug again. “Do you do anal with your boyfriends?”
“Gah, that’s none of your business,” Katie snarled. She was clearly offended by the question.
“You guys know my secrets, you can tell me yours,” our mom said as she reached behind herself and worked the tip of that plug up her ass. I couldn’t see her insert it, and she did it gingerly without rushing. “My mom always taught me that butts don’t get pregnant, so I wouldn’t need birth control as long as I learned to take it up the ass.”
“Gross! You poop from there,” Chris snickered as he watched my mom wriggle it into her ass while facing us.
“I don’t right now, and I keep my asshole squeaky clean, Chris. I learned a long time ago that most men enjoy taking a plunge in a sweet and tight asshole.”
“That’s why when anyone ever gets ripped off they say that you got fucked in the ass,” Katie said sarcastically, before asking “It may be fun for the guy, but you don’t enjoy it do you?”
My mother’s face and body language reflected her discomfort and embarrassment but her bald pussy was already starting to drip the clear cream from earlier. “It’s something I learned to enjoy, and I like pleasing others,” she let the words hang in the air.
The admission that she pleased “others” and not just my father was not lost on me but no one else mentioned it.
“Did you see your mom’s tattoo?” Dad asked. He directed her to lift her tits with a silent wave of his hands.
My mom had been using both hands behind her back to work the plug up her ass. She let it go and lifted her nipples up to reveal a hidden tattoo.
“Any hole, any man, any time, any where,” I read the tattoo out loud in a puzzled tone.
The four of us covered our mouths while trying to stifle our giggles as my mom blushed.
“Hey mom, how are you holding that door knob up if your hands are on your tits,” Chris made a wisecrack and clearly didn’t expect an answer.
Mom turned around and showed us, even though she didn’t have to do that. The plug was all the way up her ass, and the base touched all sides of her butt cheeks.
“Holy shit,” he stumbled over his words in a combination of disbelief and respect.
“I can move it back and forth,” she demonstrated by twitching her muscles that she could force the plug to move slightly in either direction.
“How are you doing that, Mommy?” Candace was fascinated, like she was watching a magic trick.
“When you start wearing the Socket, she can show you how to do Kegels and pucker your asshole.”
“REALLY?” Candace was mortified and at the same time secretly excited and she blushed.
“Yes, you will need to practice at least a few hours a day and I can show you, honey. It’s not as painful or nasty as you may think it is. I’ll give you an enema and you will have a poopy-free booty!”
“Will it take away her farts, too?” I snickered. Seeing who could fart the loudest at the dinner table was always a source of amusement for us, and my little sister often won.
“There may actually be some air that escapes and makes a farty-noise, Scott, but it’s perfectly natural, and you guys aren’t making it any easier for your sister by teasing her,” Mom assured us.
“Teasing is how we show love,” I reminded her of something she told us many times. “We can tease each other because we love and accept each other. It’s not meant to be taken personally.”
“I am glad you said that,” My mom’s eyes filled with joyful pride. She hugged me tightly and gave me a quick harmless kiss on the lips. It was something she did so often that I rarely thought about it, except this time she was completely nude. Her stiff nipples poked right into my chest through the material of my shirt.
“We’ve never been hard-asses with you about trying to pretend to be polite because we know that in places like that it just creates resentment and saying rotten stuff behind each other’s back.”
“So, can I tease my sister and mom if I walk in on them putting stuff up their butts?” Katie snickered playfully.
“Yes, absolutely,” Dad said. “As long as it’s not done out of cruelty or malicious, I’d rather you have fun with it.”
My mom released me from my hug but remained close. Candace continued to look a little apprehensive and embarrassed.
Wait a minute,” Chris held up a finger with a wry grin. “Let me see if I have this straight,” he was clearly about to ask another wise-ass question to add on to what our older sister had just asked, and his face was already turning red with amused embarrassment. “Where exactly are the two of them going to be practicing butthole aerobics for a few hours a day? I want to be able to make a few pot-shots.”
“Wherever,” Dad answered dismissively.
“In the living room and kitchen?” I asked facetiously.
“No, we wouldn’t want to make it a spectacle or make you guys uncomfortable, especially if you bring friends over,” Mom answered without giving it much thought.
My father nodded in agreement and added “Yes, when you bring your mother in here to dance, I don’t want you inviting any of your friends over to watch. This is something that I am trusting the four of you with, but I am going to make sure you fully understand it. It’s not something I am ashamed of but I also don’t advertise it to the neighbors. I expect you to keep it between us.”
I hadn’t expected him to say that.
“So, we can tell mom to get naked and stick a plug up her butt anytime we want?” Katie grinned wickedly at the very possibility. She wasn’t surprised when my father denied her request.
“No, obviously there has to be limits,” Dad said as he looked at my mom. “Let’s buckle your mom in safely and securely,” he said as he directed his wife to sit down in the Shocker.
Mom sat down with her knees apart, and he showed us four long screws with wingnuts that were through the holes in the plug base to secure it to the seat.
“If I think you can handle this, and you don’t abuse the privilege then you can take your mom in to the garage on your own when she isn’t busy,” Dad said as he forced her legs apart wide enough that he could reach the screws.
“Every day?” Chris asked as my father finished screwing the plug down tightly with his hands.
“Every day, what?” Dad placed two metal cylinders into slotted holes on the arm wrists and used a washer and screws to bolt them down.
“You said we could bring mom in here on our own? Would it be every day? Like Candace’s butt practice?” Chris grinned wickedly.
“I didn’t say that I was going to DO butt practice,” Candace pouted and blushed. I think we all knew that she probably would, but I hadn’t thought about it being seven days a week and I don’t think our father had given it much thought either.
“I didn’t mean it has to be two hours a day. I said it makes sense to practice a few hours a day, but it can be as often or as little as you want, Candy,” Mom said sweetly.
I have to admit, that my dick was unsure why it was hard but it was stubbornly throbbing and this conversation was making it hard not to go jerk off just so that I wasn’t thinking so many perverted thoughts.
“If Candy gets to tell you to teach her Butthole Ring Gymnastics any time and any day she wants, then I should be able to zap the two of you anytime I want.”
“Mommy can call me, Candy, but you have to call me Candace, and I never said that I was going to make mom show me how to do Butthole anything, or let YOU zap me, Chris Hunter!”
“You don’t like being called, Candy?” Mom asked with a hurt expression on her face as we tightened the straps up and down her wrists, ankles, and even her calves and thighs.
“You can, Mommy! When Chris does it, he’s teasing me! You do it because you think I am sweet like Candy.”
Mom smiled and agreed. She’d said that many times. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, dear,” My mom was about to tell my sister something that would change how we saw her forever. “Sometimes your father and his friends tease me pretty mercilessly when I am on the Shocker. They call it my slut throne and call me Barbie the human cock squasher. I kind of get off on it.”
“You like being called a cock squasher?” Katie sneered in disbelief.
My mom’s face fell a little and she clearly regretted her admission. “I don’t mind when I am dancing and it makes it kind of fun. I don’t take it personally.”
“So, can we call you Barbie Doll when we bring you in here to zap your heiney-hole every day?” Katie asked the question sarcastically. It was obvious she was just trying to call out a double standard and didn’t expect our mom to say yes.
“You can call me Barbie Doll any time you want, dear! That’s a cute nickname.”
“REALLY?” Katie seemed eager to try it out and addressed our mom as Barbie Doll just to hear herself say the name out loud.
“Sure, but you can take what you dish out? Are you going to cry foul if me and your father call you Kitty, again?”
“I am a bit too old to go by Kitty,” my sister shrugged uncomfortably. “I forgot all about my old nickname.”
“If it was up to me, I would have named you Kitty because you were mama’s first cute little kitten and Candy was my last.”
“What would you have named me, Mom?” Chris asked curiously as he tugged the strap to her final wrist binding.
She wrapped her fist around the cylinder in the socket and leaned back in the seat with her shoulders straight. “You wouldn’t like it..” she decided.
“Tell me,” He audaciously tickled her bare ribs once she was tied up and she giggled with amusement.
Mom laughed hysterically with a sweet expression. I thought my father or her would say that was too far since mom was naked, but she clearly enjoyed it. The dimples and smile lines on her face were clearly visible as she assured him now, she was definitely going to keep it a secret.
“Tell me,” My brother insisted without a trace of seriousness in his mock interrogation.
“Never!” Mom laughed hysterically.
“Alright guys, let’s get your mom’s neck straps and hands tied,” Dad interrupted and showed us the leather straps.
“I’ll get it out of you when I bring you back for my turn tomorrow!” Chris joked. “Dad, can I fart on mom until she tells me what I want to know?” he asked playfully.
“Don’t make me regret letting you guys bring your mom to the garage,” Dad said as he showed us how the neck straps worked to tie her head back. “You can’t all four take one at a time every day.”
Chris stopped tickling our mom and watched our father secure her neck to the chair.
“Aww, that was fun,” Mom admitted as she recovered from the laughter. Her shoulders were forced all the way back and her head was lifted up. “I don't want y’all fighting over little old me, and your dad only makes me dance a few times a week. You’ll wear me out if you ask me to come out here daily.”
“You don’t ask your mom, and she’s not to ask you to take her, either” Dad said after checking her neck was secure and using leather cord to secure her thumb and fingers to the cylinders she was gripping.
I assumed he had just made up his mind that we were far too immature to be able to do that.
“You just say it’s time to go to the garage. If you leave it up to her, she’ll hem and haw and say that she has things to do.”
“I only did that once, dear,” Mom admitted as my father tightened the strings around her wrists and then secured it to a metal ring on the side of the wood.
“One time too many,” Dad said. “You saw how I did it in the kitchen? I gave her a few minutes to take a piss and told her to be ready. She used to undress in the garage because we were afraid one of you would catch her walking around naked.”
“Honey?” my mom asked if he was certain and began to blush.
“Make sure she really doesn’t have anything pressing. Obviously, if it’s dinnertime or we have company, that’s different. If I am home, I’d appreciate a courtesy request in case I have plans for your mother, but she’s fair game on the weekends and most evenings until about an hour after dinner. I am not going to micromanage the four of you,” Dad told me to tie her other wrist and then secured the ring gag in her mouth.
I was shocked by how casual my father was about making this decision. He wasn’t careless or rough with my mother as he inserted the ring gag and secured it but he was firm. It was a far cry from the gingerly way that we had gagged her earlier.
“If your chores, and school work suffer, or you give us attitude then you can’t play with my Barbie Doll,” Dad snickered. “You will have to work out a rotation that works for you. I don’t want to hear any arguing. You can all four bring her back together, or just a few of you. I don’t care how you decide to do it, but only once a day at most.”
I noticed my mom’s pretty eyes well up, like she was sad and reluctant. She mumbled “Honey, are you sure?”
“I said it, didn’t I?” he asked as pulled her tongue out and clipped the mama gator to it without showing the least bit of hesitation. He clipped it high on my mother’s wet, pink tongue. He twisted the O ring and we discovered that it tightened around her tongue to ensure she couldn’t pull it back into her mouth.
“My friends can play with you anytime they want, and they rarely ever do. I doubt the four of them will want to play with you everyday. The girls have a different boyfriend every week, and Scott and Chris would rather play with their own joysticks and the one on their Xbox than they would yours,” Dad teased.
My mom looked sad, and cringed a little.
“I will say this though, I don’t want you to be sloppy or half-assed. There will be no five-minute sessions without the doorknob. There is a reason why all of these straps are here. Your mom has a tendency to bolt and fight against the restraints, and this is for her protection as much as it is for my amusement,” he pinched her tongue.
Mom made a sound that I imagined an orange would make if it were a person and it was being squeezed.
“I’ll have her write up the procedure to strap her in, but your mom isn’t the director. She doesn’t run this show. You do. If you can’t do that, then you can watch and play when someone else brings her back here as long as you aren’t disruptive. If my friends are over, I expect you to stay out unless I invite you in, if one of them comes over and takes her back to the garage, then you stay out. They may get confused about your roles.”
He looked at my sisters when he said that last part. I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by that.
“It’s a minimum of an hour in the chair. I usually give her fifteen minutes to just cool down and stop shaking before I untie her, but as long as you do at least fifteen minutes of aftercare then she will be fine with leaving her on the chair a little longer or taking her off early.”
We were clearly confused by the term aftercare and my father asked “Didn’t one of you give her aftercare?”
Mom shook her head slightly from side to side but since her neck was bound, she couldn’t move her head very much.
“What was the point in showing them the chair and not aftercare?” Dad asked her even though she was gagged. He pulled the eyeless back leather hood down tightly over her head and then tied it tightly around her neck. We had left it open and didn’t realize it had to be secured.
“I am surprised you didn’t show them aftercare. That’s your favorite thing,” he said as he licked his fingers and then pinched my mother’s nipple firmly between thumb and finger.
Mom mewled apologetically in the gag and hood.
“Did she at least show you where the baby alligators go?” Dad asked us as if he thought my mother had been ridiculously brief.
“Some of them,” I admitted.
“I modified several tens units and custom created these wires to be clipped on to the female body in sensitive places that will enhance the experience. They don’t put much power but taken together and consistently, they will make the dance much more enjoyable to watch,” Dad said as he snapped the first clip into her tender nipple.
Mom winced a little.
“Don’t worry about it when she makes those sounds,” Dad pinched her other nipple the same way. “She enjoys it. Go ahead, Scott. Do this one.”
I felt nervous and butterflies began dancing in my stomach as I held my mother’s nipple softly. If she minded, she had no way to stop me from doing it. I felt a little guilty but my father didn’t seem to understand my reluctance.
“No, lick your fingers first, to get it wet. It makes it more conducive to electricity. Did she not tell you that?” My father insisted that I try again and said, “If you want, you can use her pussy juices,” he ran his finger down my mom’s wet slit and sucked the taste off his finger.
“DAD!” Katie and Candace were both shocked, and even Chris stood frozen with surprise.
“I take it she didn’t tell you where seven of the baby alligators swim.”
My father waited for me to attach one of the clips to my mother’s stiff nipple. I felt sorry for her as I let it bite into her flesh and she wriggled a little. The fact that this was something very taboo to be doing with anyone, much less my family had just completely sunk in for me at that moment.
“Guys, you are teenagers now,” Dad looked at us with surprise. “You act like you never touched a pussy before and don’t know they get wet?” he chided us for our immaturity and then pulled one of my mother’s pussy lips out and up so that he could snap a baby alligator’s teeth on the side of it.
My mother flinched briefly and mumbled a soft, incoherent sound that registered somewhere squarely between shame and pleasure.
```
where would you like to see this go? I am inspired by Perseus who said he just dug a family that loved each other and I wanted to show that in a kink friendly family without being too over the top, as we add some fish out of water elements
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
The site is free up to 100 chapters a day. You can get unlimited just for submitting stories.
The site is free up to 100 chapters a day. You can get unlimited just for submitting stories.
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chapter 3
“What’s the big deal? It’s just a woman’s pussy,” Dad tugged my mother’s stretchy flaps and clipped another one a short distance away on the same pussy lip. “Each of you will place all seven baby alligators in this stinky snatch before I’ll ever let you run the show without me,” he promised.
Chris looked at me as if my father had lost his mind. My sisters were shocked and mortified as my dad snapped a third one down toward the bottom of the labia and tugged it securely.
“Mom isn’t going to mind if we um, snap clips to her pussy?” Chris’s normal wicked sense of humor had evaporated and now he seemed genuinely concerned about crossing a line.
“Have you ever seen a pussy wetter than Oregon in the rainy season?” Dad snapped a clip to the other pussy lip and began to arrange them directly across from each other.
“She knew what it means to dance on the shocker when she showed it to you this afternoon. I am genuinely surprised you draw the line here and not with the voltage,” Dad added somberly before reminding us that we were free to leave at any time and he would understand.
“Are you just trying to shock us so that we won’t bother you in the garage when you come in here with mom?” Katie asked accusingly.
Dad looked at her and licked his finger after it was covered with pussy drippings. He didn’t answer right away. He considered my sister’s words and rather than react, he let her stew as he clipped another baby alligator to my mother.
Our mom moaned slightly and cringed, but there was really nothing she could do. She had to remain there helpless and exposed while we each took turns demonstrating we were willing and able to attach the clips.
“If I didn’t want you in here, I’d tell you not to be in here,” was all my father said in response to the question as he attached the sixth clip.
He picked up my mother’s clit hood and tugged the folded pussy meat and then attached the clip to the clit underneath. My mom’s legs started shaking nervously.
“Relax, I haven’t even started the electricity yet,” he teased her. “Barbie, did you know they would need to attach the baby alligators to your pussy when you stripped butt naked and walked in here of your own free will?”
My mother’s neck was restrained so she could only nod forward slightly. She mumbled in an agreeable tone and held her thumb up slightly. This time it was tied to the cylinder.
“So, she didn’t mind you being here, and I didn’t mind you being here,” my father looked right at my older sister and paused. “Do you not want to be here?”
He waited for my sister to respond and when she didn’t answer, he continued with the final three clips. “This next one is the taint, or it’s sometimes called the perineum. It’s got to go on the smooth skin between the doorknob and her flappy waterfall,” Dad joked as he pinched the skin and let us watch as it bit the tender flesh between pussy and asshole.
“Mmmrrrrfffth,” Mom began to jerk her hips slightly back and forth as if she were trying to dance off the painful tingle.
“This is what makes her act like a Mexican jumping bean,” Dad said. I had no idea what one of those were, but I could imagine from the way her legs were shaking and her hips started to shiver and jiggle. “Now, you can go up here,” Dad removed the clip and let it bite right under her pussy hole. “I do that sometimes so she doesn’t get too used to the middle, and you can go closer to her butt hole,” he demonstrated clipping it there as well.
Each time, my mom gyrated slightly and cringed, but she seemed to react consistently to the middle portion of the smooth skin.
“Mom is really not going to be angry at us for putting these clips on her private parts?” Candace asked.
“In here, she’s Barbie and out there, she can be mom. Your mom can speak for herself, but if she was ever gonna spit in your food because you shocked the shit out of her, she’d have done it to me years ago…” Dad smiled.
“I just think it’s kind of mean,” Candace admitted with a pout.
“I love my wife, and she loves me, and just like you enjoy haunted houses, horror movies and hot wings, not everybody does. If you don’t want to sit where she is, that’s no skin off our asses. If you don’t want to attach the clips but I’ve got two more clips and then it’s your turn, so there is the door, Candace.”
My sister didn’t leave. I think we all wanted to know where the next clip goes.
“You can attach them in any order you want to, but I usually save the last two for her inner thighs. When she doesn’t wear a hood, I sometimes clip them to her inner nose. That’s dealer’s choice. For now, I expect you to tie the hood around her head.”
“Why?” I asked, mostly out of sheer curiosity.
“Your mom is gonna start drooling and making funny faces. It can put you off this. I thought it may be a little less disgusting if you don’t see it,” he admitted. Then he asked which of us wanted to go next and surprisingly Candace was the first volunteer. He pulled them off without taking his time to remove them the way we had, and mom made a “urfffth” noise of frustration, but she was in no position to resist.
She was literally tied to a chair.
“Go ahead and clip one to your finger,” he did it to himself and pulled it off. He put one on his nose and did the same thing. “These aren’t on tight enough to tear the skin, so you can just pull them off hard at the end. Your mom likes to struggle and groan but she’s not going to break if you yank on them.”
My sister started at the breasts and giggled when she placed the second one. She took her time lining it up and my father told her she didn’t have to be so precise.
“Do you like that, Mommy?” Candace asked.
My mom murmured in frustration and surprisingly my sister clipped the rest one at a time with care, without complaining. “Oh my god, you are sticky!” she observed when she finally started adjusting my mother’s pussy.
“Pussy juice is very electrically conducive. Do you see now why I didn’t wire you up the moment you volunteered?” he asked my sister.
“Yes, thank you, Daddy!”
“Do you still want to be trained to dance?” he asked.
“Trained?” my sister questioned the terminology.
“Trained like a barking seal…. arrfff…arff…arfff…” Katie clapped her hands together and barked like a seal at the city zoo begging for fish.
“Trained to handle the chair,” my father ignored Katie’s joke and spoke directly to Candace. “You would be eased into it but eventually you would be able to handle anything your mom can handle.”
“I suppose one good thing would be if someone ever kidnapped me and tried to interrogate me to get me to reveal my secrets I wouldn’t break,” Candace mused without giving a yes or a no.
“Barbie and I play games like that all the time. She writes down a secret on a sheet of paper, and then she puts a taunt or a clue on twenty other scraps of paper with numbers on the back. Over the course of the game, she calls out the numbers and when we guess the secret or she gives us the number, the game is over.”
“We?”
“A few of my friends from work. You know them, Dennis and Tom George?”
They were big guys like my father.
“They are certified electricians like me. We rigged this chair up together, and your mom is our dancer.”
“Would I be expected to play the secret agent game with them?” my sister said as she snapped the final clip to my mother’s perineum.
“We have a long way to go until we cross that bridge. I honestly hadn’t given it a lot of thought. You’d be Candy in the garage,” he said.
My sister smiled and nodded.
“Everywhere else in the house as well I think,” he decided before asking me to go next.
My sister pulled the clips off more carefully.
“This is the first time you’ve ever been near a wet pussy before because we normally go dry when you start talking,” Katie chuckled.
It was obvious to all of us that our mom was soaked now and I was surprised by just how soft her insides felt. Her pussy was warm and smooth and felt like the inside of my mouth. I was nervous and careful with my actions, but I moved quickly to snap them on one at a time. I opted for her inner thighs for the last set.
“Good job, now take them off,” Dad said while pointing to Chris. I felt guilty because when I gave them a tug, the clips didn’t immediately snap off.
“You have to jerk them quick like this,” he tugged hard and fast and the clips came right off. My hands were covered in pussy juice and felt sticky.
I realized that it was my mom’s cunt drippings and I was probably a really twisted dude, but I found the scent to be very arousing and there were several times I wanted to lick or sniff my fingers.
“This is like the Operation game,” Chris joked and pretended to use one of the clips like a scalpel. “I’ll take out mom’s funny bone for five hundred dollars!” he quoted one of the lines in the classic board game.
Dad even found that funny.
“Would you stop clowning around,” Katie was the only one who seemed annoyed and part of that may have been jealousy that Chris was usually just naturally funnier than her.
“Actually, this is exactly how it’s supposed to be,” Dad explained. “Me and my buddies don’t rush your mom through the process. We tease her and poke her a little.”
“You fuck her in front of them?” he said as he clipped one nipple immediately and then started on the second.
“That’s not what I mean by poke. I mean just what you did earlier, like tickle her, or let her stew. Barbie needs to be teased to orgasm. You can’t start with a blowtorch with her. You have to build it up and the anticipation and stopping and starting is going to drive her mad.”
“Wait, I am going to give mom an orgasm?”
Chris for all his bluster was having a harder time than I had with attaching the clips to her pussy lips. He had easily clipped her nipples, but now he was clearly having second thoughts. My father mentioning orgasms had made him pause completely.
“I get up every day to go to work to earn the money to afford a truck and a house, and a bed, and a place to fuck my wife. It all comes down to orgasms. After this, you’ll probably want to go jerk off. There is nothing wrong with it. Everybody does it,” Dad said as he looked at me knowingly.
I suspected my mom told him about the time she caught me with my pants down beating off.
“She’ll eventually earn her orgasm and when she does it’s going to be so explosive and mind-blowing, but it’s not something that happens quickly. You’ll have to give her aftercare before she ever plays with herself to finish the job.”
I almost didn’t register that my father had casually said my mom would earn an orgasm.
“Why does mom have to EARN an orgasm? Why don’t you just give it to her if she wants it so bad?” Katie frowned angrily. She normally didn’t take mom’s side of things. She clearly thought dad was just being a sexist pig.
“What good is an orgasm that isn’t earned? And I assure you, when your mom explodes, she’s going to be thanking all of us for this. You’d have to sit where she is sitting to fully understand,” Dad assured my older sister.
“Fat chance,” Katie shrugged angrily, folded her arms across her chest and pouted.
“Go ahead, Chris,” Dad ignored my sister’s outburst.
Chris clipped her pussy with another alligator clip as if he was playing with food he didn’t want to eat. “You said something about aftercare earlier. What is that?”
“I am shocked your mom didn’t mention the snuggling and aftercare. It’s her favorite part, after the orgasm,” Dad didn’t hide his surprise. He pinched her nose shut through the gag, and she started to spasm like she might be running out of air.
“Oh, stop overacting. Breathe through your mouth,” he chided my mom. “I am disappointed you didn’t explain aftercare,” he said firmly and then released her nose.
“It’s just snuggling. Your mom is going to be pumped full of endorphins and natural hormones, riding high on the excitement of dancing. Her body is going to be releasing adrenaline and dopamine. After she gets herself off, the only way that it ever ends is with aftercare. It’s a gradual return to reality, instead of a sudden drop back into reality.”
“That’s actually sweet,” Katie seemed genuinely surprised that my father insisted on this ritual after every session, but I wasn’t. My dad was no villain and he adored our mother.
“Just like you tease each other, lock each other out of the house, and pull pranks on one another, at the end of the day if anyone fucks with one of you, the other three have their backs. You can bang on each other all you want, but you are each other’s protectors, and you look out for one another.”
I had never heard my father speak so much to us at one time. He was a good speaker with a resonant, authoritative voice but right now he spoke from the heart.
“It’s like that with me and your mom. She is the yin to my yang, two halves of a perfect circle. We each bring something different to the relationship, but we both love each other deeply and look out for one another. I can see why you think I am cruel or insensitive, but the ride is meant to be bumpy and exciting. I am going to drop her off nice and softly and so will you.”
None of us had anything we could say back to that.
“One of you after this is going to take her into our room and snuggle. It’s going to be just the two of you. It’s not sexual, it’s just nuzzling and affection. All you have to do is be loving and patient and hold her tight.”
Chris stopped what he was doing and looked directly at my father to see if he was serious.
“I am not joking. Aftercare is very important or there will be sub drop,” he used another term I wasn’t familiar with. “One of you will get her a bottle of water. It’s important to hydrate when she is finished and make sure she drinks at least half before the snuggling. She can go to the bathroom and relax but for the most part you are going to just touch and hold each other affectionately.”
“Gross!” Katie decided with a frown.
“You have no problem turning the clicker and causing discomfort, but you draw the line at nurturing affection?” Dad was clearly disappointed. “You can have quiet conversation in a whisper, but basically it needs to be reassuring. There is no teasing, and don’t go over what happened during the session unless your mother brings it up. You are there to reinforce an emotional bond and physical support after a very intense session. I am not going to time it but don’t rush out of there.”
“That sounds really fun,” Candace smiled. “Would I need to be naked when we snuggle?” she asked.
“No, you don’t have to strip to snuggle with your mom.”
“I meant with you, after I dance?”
Dad smiled and for once his silence could be attributed to being unsure what to say next. “Yes, you would be nude, Candy. I would have my clothes on, but if your brother or sister took you back to the chair then you would snuggle with THEM…I am sure not gonna do it with you, because I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’d do aftercare with ME, Daddy?” My sister sounded like she had a crush on our father. She doted on him almost as much as my mom did.
“If I shock you, I give you aftercare,” Dad made it abundantly clear that he would.
“I’d have to allow the others to electrocute me? And then I have to let the three of them snuggle with me?”
“Let’s make one thing clear, Candy. You don’t understand what it’s like to sit in that chair, yet and you sure as shit don’t understand aftercare or you wouldn’t have said it like that. I want you to understand what ONE thing. You are asking how it going to be, and you have no frame of reference.”
Candy started to speak, but my father spoke over her dismissively.
“I never want to hear you say electrocuted again, either! You aren’t going to be electrocuted. I’ve had colleagues in the field that have been electrocuted. This device is perfectly safe as long as you use it properly.”
“Sorry, Daddy!” was all my little sister could say to that.
“If you want to be trained to sit up here, you will learn what it means to always be ready. You’ve heard your mom say that before?” he asked rhetorically.
“Oh yeah,” she agreed.
Chris indicated he was finished with my mother’s clips and my father flashed an approving look and waved him permission to yank the clips off.
Chris did as he was instructed and let Katie take a turn.
“If any of you ever ask your mother if she is ready, it is a mindset. It means she is ready for every and anything. Her ass is clean, her pussy is wet, she’s got cock on the brain and a taste for jizz on her lips. She’s ready to try and do anything with a smile on her face, and a positive attitude. Is that something you can do, Candy?”
“I can’t guarantee I’ll always be wet, but I am usually smiling,” Candace said.
“That’s Candace. If you want to become Candy, your mom and I will teach you to be horny all the time and get wet on command,” he said with certainty.
“Would I have to go by the name Candy all the time?” Candace asked with a flutter of her pretty blue eyes.
“You’d have to sit on a bug-zapper the size of a doorknob and get electric shocks in your twat and up your stink box, and you worried that someone will call you Candy?” Katie asked her with an incredulous smirk.
“The doorknob gets electrified?” Candy was suddenly horrified and even twitched with fear as her cheeks blushed red.
“It’s an electric chair, sweetie. Your entire body is going to get shocked, and you’ll dance, slobber, flop around and in the end you’ll have an explosive orgasm that no cock, toy or fantasy can match,” Dad assured her. “Your mouth, asshole and even your twat will be wired up but I wouldn’t start you on the doorknob. I am not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You have your entire life ahead of you to think about it.”
“Okay,” Candy was elated over my father’s response and she dropped her concern about being shocked in the ass and repeated her question from earlier. “If I decide to go for it, am I going to be Candy all the time?”
“In the garage, and when you train with your mom, you would be,” Dad was obviously making this up by the seat of his pants.
Candy’s silence was hard to read. On one hand, I thought she might simply be thinking over the decision in front of her to participate or just observe. I got the impression she may have been hoping that my father would say she had to completely stop using the name Candace.
“You’ve always been impulsive, just like your mother. You are the first in line to jump off the highest water slide and take a plunge. You are the first to want to eat hot peppers,” Dad observed.
Candy gleefully nodded with pride until my father added his conclusion.
“You wanted to be a cheerleader, until you didn’t. You wanted to dance ballet, until you got bored of that. Now, we have a closet full of dance clothes that you never wear. You have a different guy you are dating every week and each time you fall head over heels for him and think this one is going to be different than the last,” Dad said somberly. “You can sit in the chair tomorrow if that’s what you really want to do, but it’ll be here next week, next month or next year. I’d rather you try something safely with me to impose reasonable precautions than go off with some joker who doesn’t know what he is doing and does something dangerous. You can get a taste of this and decide what you want to do,” he assured her.
Once all of us had a chance to demonstrate we could handle clipping our mother’s most intimate body parts, my father slapped her thighs and asked if she was ready to dance.
“Mrrrfttth!” My mother mumbled enthusiastically through the gag, and lifted her thumb.
“Scott, you got a chance to play with the joystick last time, so Katie. You start us out,” he decided.
My sister was genuinely surprised to be chosen. She probably thought he’d skip her and go with Chris. “Go ahead and turn it up to one, and wait a few seconds.”
“Mom said to wait thirty seconds,” I blurted out.
“Your mom isn’t here, Scott,” Dad introduced us to Barbie with a wave of his hand. “That dumb bitch over there can’t even run her mouth, much less the joystick.”
It was strange to hear my father put my mother down and he noticed our reactions.
“You will treat your mom with the same respect that you always have outside of the garage, but when she’s dancing, that isn’t your mom. That’s Barbie the horny cock sucker,” he waved his hand to Katie to indicate she should increase the power.
“In the early days, it wasn’t hard for me to wire your mom up. She was just a stripper I met at a biker bar, and I didn’t give two shits about her,” Dad admitted.
I had no idea my mom had been a stripper. She never talked about her early life.
“She was a hot mess, and I loved treating her like a fucking cum sponge and a cock smoking whore,” Dad admitted. “I took her down to Tijuana and superglued her hands to her ass, tied her hands behind her back and then I tied bound her tits and made her run behind the car. I shoved a bottle of beer up her ass and let the locals laugh at the dumb, bleach blonde bimbo humiliating herself for nothing other than their amusement and mine.”
I was shocked, and uncertain if this was true. Dad waved his hand for my sister to turn up the electricity to the third click. “As I grew to really love this dumb whore, it was hard for me to wire your mother up. She wasn’t like some dumb thrill-seeking cunt to me any longer. She’d smile and dive head long into a bucket of cum if I had told her to do it. Once Barbie became my wife, she became Barbara to me.”
Dad waved his hand for my sister to crank it up to the fourth click without even watching her start to twitch on the chair.
“She is my wife and the mother of my children, and I didn’t want her to feel any discomfort. I didn’t build the electric chair until I realized that if I called her Barbie I could disconnect and give her the same thrills we had when we first got married.”
As strange as it sounds, that sounded incredibly sweet. Dad casually waved his hand to get to the fifth click within a minute. That was the setting that my mother initially told me not to exceed.
“Right about now, the tens units, capacitors are sending very mild current through her capillaries and boiling her blood. It’s warming her up, and she’d probably scream if she could open her mouth wide enough to do it,” he admitted.
Candy looked a little sheepish and asked “Will I be gagged my first time, Daddy?”
“God, I hope so! We should be able to gag you ALL the time,” Chris teased while Katie slapped him a high five in agreement. I piled right on and laughed with the others.
“Yes, you will always be gagged just like your mother if you want to ride,” Dad explained. “It’s for your own safety, and you’d have to be okay with your brothers and sister teasing you.”
Candy frowned and looked down, introspectively.
“Go up another notch,” Dad directed like a maestro conducting an orchestra.
“Am I really getting to do the clicker, or am I just doing what you tell me?” Katie clicked the intensity up to the exhilarating setting without any regard for my mom registering on her face.
Barbie gripped the two cylinders tighter, her biceps and shoulders strained and she flopped her head as far as she could back and forth despite the bindings. She struggled against them.
“I am not going to put you behind the wheel of my car and let you start driving without making sure you know how to stop and when to speed up. Go ahead and go up another notch,” Dad decided casually.
I wanted to warn him that was the seventh position on the clicker but my father clearly knew that.
“Naughty girl?” Katie grinned as she read out the label on the seventh notch of the joystick. “Has Barbie been naughty?” she patronized her.
“Barbie’s actually the best girl, and the way all women should be,” Dad said.
Katie sneered at him, clearly disagreeing but kept her hand on the clicker awaiting his instruction.
Barbie’s body began to twitch as her ass danced on the electricity. Her butt cheeks involuntarily contracted and I could have sworn her pussy lips fully opened and then closed like a mouth.
“Now, every ten seconds go up one for ten seconds, down two for ten seconds, up one for ten seconds, but never below three,” Dad instructed and added “The variation of the ride is going to throw her off. At first, you want to follow a pattern. Eventually, you’ll just go from three to seven, and occasionally eight.”
At first, it was thrilling to watch her cook on the chair. I watched every flex of her knee or thigh. I noticed her belly button when the muscles just above her hairless pussy rippled. I watched her shoulders shimmy and I could imagine my mother at a wedding doing this herky-jerky dance like Elaine from Seinfeld’s iconic weird move she made on the dance floor.
After what felt like fifteen minutes, boredom started to set in. I kept waiting for something to happen, but it was like watching a NASCAR race. The car goes as fast as it can around the track and the white-knuckle excitement only lasts until you realize they are just going to keep doing this all day.
My father proudly rattled off the voltage output, milliamps, and wattage but none of us knew what those terms really meant other than it was what was making Barbie shake and grind her pussy and ass down on the doorknob while dripping cunt juice like a leaky faucet all over the chair.
I joked that we probably had a high electric bill because of their hobby.
“It’s only pulling a watt or two total,” Dad frowned dismissively as if I should know that. In a way, I was flattered because he must have thought that I was smart enough to know that without needing it explained.
I was tempted to engage in a conversation and ask him how a light bulb could require 60 watts if the chair only pulled a single watt. I thought he was going to talk about his true passion of resistors, conductors and capacitors all night but he was more interested in finding out what we thought about what we were watching.
“What do you think, Chris? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Dad finally spoke as Katie worked the controls without his direction.
“Do you ever take Barbie up to nine or ten?” Chris smiled mischievously.
“When you bring your mom back here, I don’t want any of you going over eight if I am not here. You never leave it at eight for more than ten seconds.”
“You are really going to let us just take mom back to the garage, tie her to a chair and zap the snot out of her?” Katie’s tone carried obvious doubt with it.
“If you want to,” Dad shrugged. “It’s like any new toy. You play with it while it’s new and shiny and then a few months later, it ends up in a box. You will probably get bored after the first few times.”
“I thought there was more to it,” Candy admitted.
“Yeah, you could probably just connect a randomizer to the joystick to alternate between a range of settings every ten seconds and not go over the highest setting,” I observed.
“That would take the fun out of controlling it. I like to think of myself as a puppet master. If I swing a high arc of three clicks in either direction, I can make her tits jump,” Dad nodded at my sister and she turned the clicker all the way up to eight. He nodded for her to turn it down quickly and we observed my mother’s entire body heave and her breath quicken as her muscles tightened, and then watched her energy wane when the current was turned down.
“Now, once she’s gotten used to a nice steady current, there is a little red button on the side that says not to press it,” Dad asked Katie if she saw it.
“Yeah, I didn’t press it, Dad!”
“Press it,” Dad smiled.
Katie couldn’t contain a laugh as she tapped the button. Our mom didn’t really react.
“Press it over and over, as much as you like,” Dad said. He explained that the button changed the cycle variable pulse patterns, and now the warm-up was over,” he grinned with pride.
We noticed my mother’s body reacting to the pulses a lot when Katie gave her 2–4 seconds to get used to the pattern and then changed it. It had to feel like torture to her.
“Great minds think alike,” he said with pride to me. “I wanted the control of the joystick, but I also didn’t want to pick the vibration setting. It’s completely random so even I don’t know what she’s gonna get. It keeps things spicy,” he beamed.
I was thrilled to earn my father’s recognition for recommending automating the process a little.
“Do you know the difference between a carpenter and an electrician, son?” he asked me like he was talking to one of his friends from work. I knew it was clearly a joke, so I shrugged and didn’t try to ruin it by guessing.
“Carpenters have to use their tools to work. Electricians like to wire things up so that their tools work for them!” He told the perfect Dad joke, and the four of us groaned at how corny it was.
“I thought you were going to say that Carpenters have to work in the dark,” Chris joked.
“Hey, that’s a good one,” Dad laughed. “Your mom got me a coffee cup that says ‘I'm an electrician, I can remove your shorts and inspect your box’, for Christmas.
I noticed he became a little wistful when he watched my mom shaking and moving her head back and forth as she struggled against the bindings and seemed to be working herself off of the doorknob.
“Why don’t you get Barbie a tattoo for Christmas, Dad,” Katie was having a blast playing with the joystick and shocking our mom. “It could say she’s not a whore, because they charge money to suck dicks and she gives them for free.”
Dad snickered quietly and nodded.
“No, I got it,” Chris said. “The perfect Christmas gift for Barbie! A t-shirt with the caption that this is her only shirt that isn’t covered in jizz!”
I have to admit, that was surprisingly funny and the five of us laughed. If my mom heard that I assumed she’d be mortified. Given that she was simmering, seething and shaking like she was possessed I doubted it.
“What about we all chip in and get Barbie a gas-powered dildo she can ride around on in the backyard!” I squatted and pretended to be my mother fucking some sort of chainsaw-sized dildo.
“That’s an idea, Scott,” Dad grinned.
“Would you really get that for her on Christmas, Daddy?” Candy asked.
“Nah, it’s Candy and Barbie in the garage, but the two of you would have regular Christmas,” Dad assured my sister. He realized that my sister was already thinking about how things might change for her.
“We’d probably wait until after you two made lunch on Christmas day before frying your pussies for a few hours,” Katie snickered wickedly and Candy clammed up.
“Dad said that I would be able to say no, and I wouldn’t let you fry my pussy or any other part of me, Katie Hunter!”
“You’d have to call me Miss Katie, and make our bed,” Katie teased.
“Hold on a second,” Dad stopped the bickering. “Chris, you go on and take over the clicker. You’ve been watching Katie do it, right?”
“Yeah, Dad!” he said eagerly and began dramatically making zapping noises with his mouth as he worked the controls.
“Now, I am not big on protocols and rules for fun,” Dad said to the two of them as he called them over so that he could make his opinion abundantly clear.
“I was just teasing,” Katie insisted defensively.
“One rule is that you won’t talk over me when I am talking,” Dad glowered at her and waited in silence before he continued. “I don’t want any of you being punitive with your mom or your sister. If you are having a bad day or you are mad at something she says to you, you aren’t to treat this garage like a place to get your petty vengeance.”
He was talking directly to Katie because Candy would never do that.
“I was just joking, Daddy!” Katie threw in an uncharacteristic “daddy.”
“I don’t care if you were serious or not. If Candace decides she wants to dance, she’d be exempt on her birthday and Christmas. Your mom would be as well, and Mother’s Day. If they aren’t feeling well or we are doing other stuff, then this is just a game in the garage and it’ll be here another day.”
He waited for my sister to register her understanding. Candy folded her arms across her chest triumphantly, clearly vindicated by our older sister being dressed down.
“As to you, I told you that you could try this out because I think you may get a thrill out of it, and I’d rather teach you to do it properly than let you mess around and try it with some stranger or on your own. If you want to dance, a few times and it’s not for you, that’s not a problem. If you want to keep doing it then you will do it my way.”
Candy was about to ask what that meant but my father didn’t give her a chance to spit it out.
“That means that I’ll call you Candy anytime I want, day or night because I am not going to switch back and forth like I do with your mom. She’s Barbie in here, Barbara out there,” he indicated the rest of the world with his hands and clarified she’d be “Mom” to the rest of us. If the others call you Candy, then that’s between you and them. I am not going to insist they do, and I am not going to get into telling them they can’t do something I’d do.”
My father’s intensity rose as he spoke, but his voice never did. “If you don’t want to be in the hot seat regularly, I suggest you try it a few times anyway, but I am not going to beg you, and I am not going to make you do it. If you start doing it regularly, it’s up to me. It’s my chair, and if I let the others take my wife to the chair, I’ll damn sure let them take you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.
“Now, I do like being called Sir sometimes, but you’d have to mean it,” Dad smiled warmly but remained serious. “We probably would have a few rules for you around the house, but you wouldn’t be their slave, because my wife isn’t their slave. She’s Barbie the dumb whore in here, and you’d be Candy the dumb bimbo,” Dad decided. “That’s not something you have to decide tonight. I wouldn’t let you make that decision tonight.”
“Yes, Sir, thank you,” Candy looked nervous like she was talking to a celebrity and grateful that my father allowed her to speak.
“Now, go ahead and take a turn with the joystick,” Dad decided that he had made his point.
“You said I would never touch the joystick,” she stammered nervously like this might be a trick question.
“I meant you’d never touch it when you are sitting in it,” our father grew annoyed with her. “You can zap your mom if that’s what you want to do. She doesn’t enjoy being the zapper. You can try it first to make that decision.”
Oddly, Candy was delighted to zap our mom and made silly noises and whistles just like Chris had when it was her turn.
“Sorry,” Katie apologized sincerely after allowing my father a few moments to observe Candy’s rhythm with the joystick.
“You have no reason to apologize, Katie. We are all just trying to figure this out together. You are all asking good questions, and I am not angry. I am proud of you, sweetheart.”
---
Where would you like to see it go next?
Chris looked at me as if my father had lost his mind. My sisters were shocked and mortified as my dad snapped a third one down toward the bottom of the labia and tugged it securely.
“Mom isn’t going to mind if we um, snap clips to her pussy?” Chris’s normal wicked sense of humor had evaporated and now he seemed genuinely concerned about crossing a line.
“Have you ever seen a pussy wetter than Oregon in the rainy season?” Dad snapped a clip to the other pussy lip and began to arrange them directly across from each other.
“She knew what it means to dance on the shocker when she showed it to you this afternoon. I am genuinely surprised you draw the line here and not with the voltage,” Dad added somberly before reminding us that we were free to leave at any time and he would understand.
“Are you just trying to shock us so that we won’t bother you in the garage when you come in here with mom?” Katie asked accusingly.
Dad looked at her and licked his finger after it was covered with pussy drippings. He didn’t answer right away. He considered my sister’s words and rather than react, he let her stew as he clipped another baby alligator to my mother.
Our mom moaned slightly and cringed, but there was really nothing she could do. She had to remain there helpless and exposed while we each took turns demonstrating we were willing and able to attach the clips.
“If I didn’t want you in here, I’d tell you not to be in here,” was all my father said in response to the question as he attached the sixth clip.
He picked up my mother’s clit hood and tugged the folded pussy meat and then attached the clip to the clit underneath. My mom’s legs started shaking nervously.
“Relax, I haven’t even started the electricity yet,” he teased her. “Barbie, did you know they would need to attach the baby alligators to your pussy when you stripped butt naked and walked in here of your own free will?”
My mother’s neck was restrained so she could only nod forward slightly. She mumbled in an agreeable tone and held her thumb up slightly. This time it was tied to the cylinder.
“So, she didn’t mind you being here, and I didn’t mind you being here,” my father looked right at my older sister and paused. “Do you not want to be here?”
He waited for my sister to respond and when she didn’t answer, he continued with the final three clips. “This next one is the taint, or it’s sometimes called the perineum. It’s got to go on the smooth skin between the doorknob and her flappy waterfall,” Dad joked as he pinched the skin and let us watch as it bit the tender flesh between pussy and asshole.
“Mmmrrrrfffth,” Mom began to jerk her hips slightly back and forth as if she were trying to dance off the painful tingle.
“This is what makes her act like a Mexican jumping bean,” Dad said. I had no idea what one of those were, but I could imagine from the way her legs were shaking and her hips started to shiver and jiggle. “Now, you can go up here,” Dad removed the clip and let it bite right under her pussy hole. “I do that sometimes so she doesn’t get too used to the middle, and you can go closer to her butt hole,” he demonstrated clipping it there as well.
Each time, my mom gyrated slightly and cringed, but she seemed to react consistently to the middle portion of the smooth skin.
“Mom is really not going to be angry at us for putting these clips on her private parts?” Candace asked.
“In here, she’s Barbie and out there, she can be mom. Your mom can speak for herself, but if she was ever gonna spit in your food because you shocked the shit out of her, she’d have done it to me years ago…” Dad smiled.
“I just think it’s kind of mean,” Candace admitted with a pout.
“I love my wife, and she loves me, and just like you enjoy haunted houses, horror movies and hot wings, not everybody does. If you don’t want to sit where she is, that’s no skin off our asses. If you don’t want to attach the clips but I’ve got two more clips and then it’s your turn, so there is the door, Candace.”
My sister didn’t leave. I think we all wanted to know where the next clip goes.
“You can attach them in any order you want to, but I usually save the last two for her inner thighs. When she doesn’t wear a hood, I sometimes clip them to her inner nose. That’s dealer’s choice. For now, I expect you to tie the hood around her head.”
“Why?” I asked, mostly out of sheer curiosity.
“Your mom is gonna start drooling and making funny faces. It can put you off this. I thought it may be a little less disgusting if you don’t see it,” he admitted. Then he asked which of us wanted to go next and surprisingly Candace was the first volunteer. He pulled them off without taking his time to remove them the way we had, and mom made a “urfffth” noise of frustration, but she was in no position to resist.
She was literally tied to a chair.
“Go ahead and clip one to your finger,” he did it to himself and pulled it off. He put one on his nose and did the same thing. “These aren’t on tight enough to tear the skin, so you can just pull them off hard at the end. Your mom likes to struggle and groan but she’s not going to break if you yank on them.”
My sister started at the breasts and giggled when she placed the second one. She took her time lining it up and my father told her she didn’t have to be so precise.
“Do you like that, Mommy?” Candace asked.
My mom murmured in frustration and surprisingly my sister clipped the rest one at a time with care, without complaining. “Oh my god, you are sticky!” she observed when she finally started adjusting my mother’s pussy.
“Pussy juice is very electrically conducive. Do you see now why I didn’t wire you up the moment you volunteered?” he asked my sister.
“Yes, thank you, Daddy!”
“Do you still want to be trained to dance?” he asked.
“Trained?” my sister questioned the terminology.
“Trained like a barking seal…. arrfff…arff…arfff…” Katie clapped her hands together and barked like a seal at the city zoo begging for fish.
“Trained to handle the chair,” my father ignored Katie’s joke and spoke directly to Candace. “You would be eased into it but eventually you would be able to handle anything your mom can handle.”
“I suppose one good thing would be if someone ever kidnapped me and tried to interrogate me to get me to reveal my secrets I wouldn’t break,” Candace mused without giving a yes or a no.
“Barbie and I play games like that all the time. She writes down a secret on a sheet of paper, and then she puts a taunt or a clue on twenty other scraps of paper with numbers on the back. Over the course of the game, she calls out the numbers and when we guess the secret or she gives us the number, the game is over.”
“We?”
“A few of my friends from work. You know them, Dennis and Tom George?”
They were big guys like my father.
“They are certified electricians like me. We rigged this chair up together, and your mom is our dancer.”
“Would I be expected to play the secret agent game with them?” my sister said as she snapped the final clip to my mother’s perineum.
“We have a long way to go until we cross that bridge. I honestly hadn’t given it a lot of thought. You’d be Candy in the garage,” he said.
My sister smiled and nodded.
“Everywhere else in the house as well I think,” he decided before asking me to go next.
My sister pulled the clips off more carefully.
“This is the first time you’ve ever been near a wet pussy before because we normally go dry when you start talking,” Katie chuckled.
It was obvious to all of us that our mom was soaked now and I was surprised by just how soft her insides felt. Her pussy was warm and smooth and felt like the inside of my mouth. I was nervous and careful with my actions, but I moved quickly to snap them on one at a time. I opted for her inner thighs for the last set.
“Good job, now take them off,” Dad said while pointing to Chris. I felt guilty because when I gave them a tug, the clips didn’t immediately snap off.
“You have to jerk them quick like this,” he tugged hard and fast and the clips came right off. My hands were covered in pussy juice and felt sticky.
I realized that it was my mom’s cunt drippings and I was probably a really twisted dude, but I found the scent to be very arousing and there were several times I wanted to lick or sniff my fingers.
“This is like the Operation game,” Chris joked and pretended to use one of the clips like a scalpel. “I’ll take out mom’s funny bone for five hundred dollars!” he quoted one of the lines in the classic board game.
Dad even found that funny.
“Would you stop clowning around,” Katie was the only one who seemed annoyed and part of that may have been jealousy that Chris was usually just naturally funnier than her.
“Actually, this is exactly how it’s supposed to be,” Dad explained. “Me and my buddies don’t rush your mom through the process. We tease her and poke her a little.”
“You fuck her in front of them?” he said as he clipped one nipple immediately and then started on the second.
“That’s not what I mean by poke. I mean just what you did earlier, like tickle her, or let her stew. Barbie needs to be teased to orgasm. You can’t start with a blowtorch with her. You have to build it up and the anticipation and stopping and starting is going to drive her mad.”
“Wait, I am going to give mom an orgasm?”
Chris for all his bluster was having a harder time than I had with attaching the clips to her pussy lips. He had easily clipped her nipples, but now he was clearly having second thoughts. My father mentioning orgasms had made him pause completely.
“I get up every day to go to work to earn the money to afford a truck and a house, and a bed, and a place to fuck my wife. It all comes down to orgasms. After this, you’ll probably want to go jerk off. There is nothing wrong with it. Everybody does it,” Dad said as he looked at me knowingly.
I suspected my mom told him about the time she caught me with my pants down beating off.
“She’ll eventually earn her orgasm and when she does it’s going to be so explosive and mind-blowing, but it’s not something that happens quickly. You’ll have to give her aftercare before she ever plays with herself to finish the job.”
I almost didn’t register that my father had casually said my mom would earn an orgasm.
“Why does mom have to EARN an orgasm? Why don’t you just give it to her if she wants it so bad?” Katie frowned angrily. She normally didn’t take mom’s side of things. She clearly thought dad was just being a sexist pig.
“What good is an orgasm that isn’t earned? And I assure you, when your mom explodes, she’s going to be thanking all of us for this. You’d have to sit where she is sitting to fully understand,” Dad assured my older sister.
“Fat chance,” Katie shrugged angrily, folded her arms across her chest and pouted.
“Go ahead, Chris,” Dad ignored my sister’s outburst.
Chris clipped her pussy with another alligator clip as if he was playing with food he didn’t want to eat. “You said something about aftercare earlier. What is that?”
“I am shocked your mom didn’t mention the snuggling and aftercare. It’s her favorite part, after the orgasm,” Dad didn’t hide his surprise. He pinched her nose shut through the gag, and she started to spasm like she might be running out of air.
“Oh, stop overacting. Breathe through your mouth,” he chided my mom. “I am disappointed you didn’t explain aftercare,” he said firmly and then released her nose.
“It’s just snuggling. Your mom is going to be pumped full of endorphins and natural hormones, riding high on the excitement of dancing. Her body is going to be releasing adrenaline and dopamine. After she gets herself off, the only way that it ever ends is with aftercare. It’s a gradual return to reality, instead of a sudden drop back into reality.”
“That’s actually sweet,” Katie seemed genuinely surprised that my father insisted on this ritual after every session, but I wasn’t. My dad was no villain and he adored our mother.
“Just like you tease each other, lock each other out of the house, and pull pranks on one another, at the end of the day if anyone fucks with one of you, the other three have their backs. You can bang on each other all you want, but you are each other’s protectors, and you look out for one another.”
I had never heard my father speak so much to us at one time. He was a good speaker with a resonant, authoritative voice but right now he spoke from the heart.
“It’s like that with me and your mom. She is the yin to my yang, two halves of a perfect circle. We each bring something different to the relationship, but we both love each other deeply and look out for one another. I can see why you think I am cruel or insensitive, but the ride is meant to be bumpy and exciting. I am going to drop her off nice and softly and so will you.”
None of us had anything we could say back to that.
“One of you after this is going to take her into our room and snuggle. It’s going to be just the two of you. It’s not sexual, it’s just nuzzling and affection. All you have to do is be loving and patient and hold her tight.”
Chris stopped what he was doing and looked directly at my father to see if he was serious.
“I am not joking. Aftercare is very important or there will be sub drop,” he used another term I wasn’t familiar with. “One of you will get her a bottle of water. It’s important to hydrate when she is finished and make sure she drinks at least half before the snuggling. She can go to the bathroom and relax but for the most part you are going to just touch and hold each other affectionately.”
“Gross!” Katie decided with a frown.
“You have no problem turning the clicker and causing discomfort, but you draw the line at nurturing affection?” Dad was clearly disappointed. “You can have quiet conversation in a whisper, but basically it needs to be reassuring. There is no teasing, and don’t go over what happened during the session unless your mother brings it up. You are there to reinforce an emotional bond and physical support after a very intense session. I am not going to time it but don’t rush out of there.”
“That sounds really fun,” Candace smiled. “Would I need to be naked when we snuggle?” she asked.
“No, you don’t have to strip to snuggle with your mom.”
“I meant with you, after I dance?”
Dad smiled and for once his silence could be attributed to being unsure what to say next. “Yes, you would be nude, Candy. I would have my clothes on, but if your brother or sister took you back to the chair then you would snuggle with THEM…I am sure not gonna do it with you, because I wouldn’t be here.”
“You’d do aftercare with ME, Daddy?” My sister sounded like she had a crush on our father. She doted on him almost as much as my mom did.
“If I shock you, I give you aftercare,” Dad made it abundantly clear that he would.
“I’d have to allow the others to electrocute me? And then I have to let the three of them snuggle with me?”
“Let’s make one thing clear, Candy. You don’t understand what it’s like to sit in that chair, yet and you sure as shit don’t understand aftercare or you wouldn’t have said it like that. I want you to understand what ONE thing. You are asking how it going to be, and you have no frame of reference.”
Candy started to speak, but my father spoke over her dismissively.
“I never want to hear you say electrocuted again, either! You aren’t going to be electrocuted. I’ve had colleagues in the field that have been electrocuted. This device is perfectly safe as long as you use it properly.”
“Sorry, Daddy!” was all my little sister could say to that.
“If you want to be trained to sit up here, you will learn what it means to always be ready. You’ve heard your mom say that before?” he asked rhetorically.
“Oh yeah,” she agreed.
Chris indicated he was finished with my mother’s clips and my father flashed an approving look and waved him permission to yank the clips off.
Chris did as he was instructed and let Katie take a turn.
“If any of you ever ask your mother if she is ready, it is a mindset. It means she is ready for every and anything. Her ass is clean, her pussy is wet, she’s got cock on the brain and a taste for jizz on her lips. She’s ready to try and do anything with a smile on her face, and a positive attitude. Is that something you can do, Candy?”
“I can’t guarantee I’ll always be wet, but I am usually smiling,” Candace said.
“That’s Candace. If you want to become Candy, your mom and I will teach you to be horny all the time and get wet on command,” he said with certainty.
“Would I have to go by the name Candy all the time?” Candace asked with a flutter of her pretty blue eyes.
“You’d have to sit on a bug-zapper the size of a doorknob and get electric shocks in your twat and up your stink box, and you worried that someone will call you Candy?” Katie asked her with an incredulous smirk.
“The doorknob gets electrified?” Candy was suddenly horrified and even twitched with fear as her cheeks blushed red.
“It’s an electric chair, sweetie. Your entire body is going to get shocked, and you’ll dance, slobber, flop around and in the end you’ll have an explosive orgasm that no cock, toy or fantasy can match,” Dad assured her. “Your mouth, asshole and even your twat will be wired up but I wouldn’t start you on the doorknob. I am not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. You have your entire life ahead of you to think about it.”
“Okay,” Candy was elated over my father’s response and she dropped her concern about being shocked in the ass and repeated her question from earlier. “If I decide to go for it, am I going to be Candy all the time?”
“In the garage, and when you train with your mom, you would be,” Dad was obviously making this up by the seat of his pants.
Candy’s silence was hard to read. On one hand, I thought she might simply be thinking over the decision in front of her to participate or just observe. I got the impression she may have been hoping that my father would say she had to completely stop using the name Candace.
“You’ve always been impulsive, just like your mother. You are the first in line to jump off the highest water slide and take a plunge. You are the first to want to eat hot peppers,” Dad observed.
Candy gleefully nodded with pride until my father added his conclusion.
“You wanted to be a cheerleader, until you didn’t. You wanted to dance ballet, until you got bored of that. Now, we have a closet full of dance clothes that you never wear. You have a different guy you are dating every week and each time you fall head over heels for him and think this one is going to be different than the last,” Dad said somberly. “You can sit in the chair tomorrow if that’s what you really want to do, but it’ll be here next week, next month or next year. I’d rather you try something safely with me to impose reasonable precautions than go off with some joker who doesn’t know what he is doing and does something dangerous. You can get a taste of this and decide what you want to do,” he assured her.
Once all of us had a chance to demonstrate we could handle clipping our mother’s most intimate body parts, my father slapped her thighs and asked if she was ready to dance.
“Mrrrfttth!” My mother mumbled enthusiastically through the gag, and lifted her thumb.
“Scott, you got a chance to play with the joystick last time, so Katie. You start us out,” he decided.
My sister was genuinely surprised to be chosen. She probably thought he’d skip her and go with Chris. “Go ahead and turn it up to one, and wait a few seconds.”
“Mom said to wait thirty seconds,” I blurted out.
“Your mom isn’t here, Scott,” Dad introduced us to Barbie with a wave of his hand. “That dumb bitch over there can’t even run her mouth, much less the joystick.”
It was strange to hear my father put my mother down and he noticed our reactions.
“You will treat your mom with the same respect that you always have outside of the garage, but when she’s dancing, that isn’t your mom. That’s Barbie the horny cock sucker,” he waved his hand to Katie to indicate she should increase the power.
“In the early days, it wasn’t hard for me to wire your mom up. She was just a stripper I met at a biker bar, and I didn’t give two shits about her,” Dad admitted.
I had no idea my mom had been a stripper. She never talked about her early life.
“She was a hot mess, and I loved treating her like a fucking cum sponge and a cock smoking whore,” Dad admitted. “I took her down to Tijuana and superglued her hands to her ass, tied her hands behind her back and then I tied bound her tits and made her run behind the car. I shoved a bottle of beer up her ass and let the locals laugh at the dumb, bleach blonde bimbo humiliating herself for nothing other than their amusement and mine.”
I was shocked, and uncertain if this was true. Dad waved his hand for my sister to turn up the electricity to the third click. “As I grew to really love this dumb whore, it was hard for me to wire your mother up. She wasn’t like some dumb thrill-seeking cunt to me any longer. She’d smile and dive head long into a bucket of cum if I had told her to do it. Once Barbie became my wife, she became Barbara to me.”
Dad waved his hand for my sister to crank it up to the fourth click without even watching her start to twitch on the chair.
“She is my wife and the mother of my children, and I didn’t want her to feel any discomfort. I didn’t build the electric chair until I realized that if I called her Barbie I could disconnect and give her the same thrills we had when we first got married.”
As strange as it sounds, that sounded incredibly sweet. Dad casually waved his hand to get to the fifth click within a minute. That was the setting that my mother initially told me not to exceed.
“Right about now, the tens units, capacitors are sending very mild current through her capillaries and boiling her blood. It’s warming her up, and she’d probably scream if she could open her mouth wide enough to do it,” he admitted.
Candy looked a little sheepish and asked “Will I be gagged my first time, Daddy?”
“God, I hope so! We should be able to gag you ALL the time,” Chris teased while Katie slapped him a high five in agreement. I piled right on and laughed with the others.
“Yes, you will always be gagged just like your mother if you want to ride,” Dad explained. “It’s for your own safety, and you’d have to be okay with your brothers and sister teasing you.”
Candy frowned and looked down, introspectively.
“Go up another notch,” Dad directed like a maestro conducting an orchestra.
“Am I really getting to do the clicker, or am I just doing what you tell me?” Katie clicked the intensity up to the exhilarating setting without any regard for my mom registering on her face.
Barbie gripped the two cylinders tighter, her biceps and shoulders strained and she flopped her head as far as she could back and forth despite the bindings. She struggled against them.
“I am not going to put you behind the wheel of my car and let you start driving without making sure you know how to stop and when to speed up. Go ahead and go up another notch,” Dad decided casually.
I wanted to warn him that was the seventh position on the clicker but my father clearly knew that.
“Naughty girl?” Katie grinned as she read out the label on the seventh notch of the joystick. “Has Barbie been naughty?” she patronized her.
“Barbie’s actually the best girl, and the way all women should be,” Dad said.
Katie sneered at him, clearly disagreeing but kept her hand on the clicker awaiting his instruction.
Barbie’s body began to twitch as her ass danced on the electricity. Her butt cheeks involuntarily contracted and I could have sworn her pussy lips fully opened and then closed like a mouth.
“Now, every ten seconds go up one for ten seconds, down two for ten seconds, up one for ten seconds, but never below three,” Dad instructed and added “The variation of the ride is going to throw her off. At first, you want to follow a pattern. Eventually, you’ll just go from three to seven, and occasionally eight.”
At first, it was thrilling to watch her cook on the chair. I watched every flex of her knee or thigh. I noticed her belly button when the muscles just above her hairless pussy rippled. I watched her shoulders shimmy and I could imagine my mother at a wedding doing this herky-jerky dance like Elaine from Seinfeld’s iconic weird move she made on the dance floor.
After what felt like fifteen minutes, boredom started to set in. I kept waiting for something to happen, but it was like watching a NASCAR race. The car goes as fast as it can around the track and the white-knuckle excitement only lasts until you realize they are just going to keep doing this all day.
My father proudly rattled off the voltage output, milliamps, and wattage but none of us knew what those terms really meant other than it was what was making Barbie shake and grind her pussy and ass down on the doorknob while dripping cunt juice like a leaky faucet all over the chair.
I joked that we probably had a high electric bill because of their hobby.
“It’s only pulling a watt or two total,” Dad frowned dismissively as if I should know that. In a way, I was flattered because he must have thought that I was smart enough to know that without needing it explained.
I was tempted to engage in a conversation and ask him how a light bulb could require 60 watts if the chair only pulled a single watt. I thought he was going to talk about his true passion of resistors, conductors and capacitors all night but he was more interested in finding out what we thought about what we were watching.
“What do you think, Chris? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Dad finally spoke as Katie worked the controls without his direction.
“Do you ever take Barbie up to nine or ten?” Chris smiled mischievously.
“When you bring your mom back here, I don’t want any of you going over eight if I am not here. You never leave it at eight for more than ten seconds.”
“You are really going to let us just take mom back to the garage, tie her to a chair and zap the snot out of her?” Katie’s tone carried obvious doubt with it.
“If you want to,” Dad shrugged. “It’s like any new toy. You play with it while it’s new and shiny and then a few months later, it ends up in a box. You will probably get bored after the first few times.”
“I thought there was more to it,” Candy admitted.
“Yeah, you could probably just connect a randomizer to the joystick to alternate between a range of settings every ten seconds and not go over the highest setting,” I observed.
“That would take the fun out of controlling it. I like to think of myself as a puppet master. If I swing a high arc of three clicks in either direction, I can make her tits jump,” Dad nodded at my sister and she turned the clicker all the way up to eight. He nodded for her to turn it down quickly and we observed my mother’s entire body heave and her breath quicken as her muscles tightened, and then watched her energy wane when the current was turned down.
“Now, once she’s gotten used to a nice steady current, there is a little red button on the side that says not to press it,” Dad asked Katie if she saw it.
“Yeah, I didn’t press it, Dad!”
“Press it,” Dad smiled.
Katie couldn’t contain a laugh as she tapped the button. Our mom didn’t really react.
“Press it over and over, as much as you like,” Dad said. He explained that the button changed the cycle variable pulse patterns, and now the warm-up was over,” he grinned with pride.
We noticed my mother’s body reacting to the pulses a lot when Katie gave her 2–4 seconds to get used to the pattern and then changed it. It had to feel like torture to her.
“Great minds think alike,” he said with pride to me. “I wanted the control of the joystick, but I also didn’t want to pick the vibration setting. It’s completely random so even I don’t know what she’s gonna get. It keeps things spicy,” he beamed.
I was thrilled to earn my father’s recognition for recommending automating the process a little.
“Do you know the difference between a carpenter and an electrician, son?” he asked me like he was talking to one of his friends from work. I knew it was clearly a joke, so I shrugged and didn’t try to ruin it by guessing.
“Carpenters have to use their tools to work. Electricians like to wire things up so that their tools work for them!” He told the perfect Dad joke, and the four of us groaned at how corny it was.
“I thought you were going to say that Carpenters have to work in the dark,” Chris joked.
“Hey, that’s a good one,” Dad laughed. “Your mom got me a coffee cup that says ‘I'm an electrician, I can remove your shorts and inspect your box’, for Christmas.
I noticed he became a little wistful when he watched my mom shaking and moving her head back and forth as she struggled against the bindings and seemed to be working herself off of the doorknob.
“Why don’t you get Barbie a tattoo for Christmas, Dad,” Katie was having a blast playing with the joystick and shocking our mom. “It could say she’s not a whore, because they charge money to suck dicks and she gives them for free.”
Dad snickered quietly and nodded.
“No, I got it,” Chris said. “The perfect Christmas gift for Barbie! A t-shirt with the caption that this is her only shirt that isn’t covered in jizz!”
I have to admit, that was surprisingly funny and the five of us laughed. If my mom heard that I assumed she’d be mortified. Given that she was simmering, seething and shaking like she was possessed I doubted it.
“What about we all chip in and get Barbie a gas-powered dildo she can ride around on in the backyard!” I squatted and pretended to be my mother fucking some sort of chainsaw-sized dildo.
“That’s an idea, Scott,” Dad grinned.
“Would you really get that for her on Christmas, Daddy?” Candy asked.
“Nah, it’s Candy and Barbie in the garage, but the two of you would have regular Christmas,” Dad assured my sister. He realized that my sister was already thinking about how things might change for her.
“We’d probably wait until after you two made lunch on Christmas day before frying your pussies for a few hours,” Katie snickered wickedly and Candy clammed up.
“Dad said that I would be able to say no, and I wouldn’t let you fry my pussy or any other part of me, Katie Hunter!”
“You’d have to call me Miss Katie, and make our bed,” Katie teased.
“Hold on a second,” Dad stopped the bickering. “Chris, you go on and take over the clicker. You’ve been watching Katie do it, right?”
“Yeah, Dad!” he said eagerly and began dramatically making zapping noises with his mouth as he worked the controls.
“Now, I am not big on protocols and rules for fun,” Dad said to the two of them as he called them over so that he could make his opinion abundantly clear.
“I was just teasing,” Katie insisted defensively.
“One rule is that you won’t talk over me when I am talking,” Dad glowered at her and waited in silence before he continued. “I don’t want any of you being punitive with your mom or your sister. If you are having a bad day or you are mad at something she says to you, you aren’t to treat this garage like a place to get your petty vengeance.”
He was talking directly to Katie because Candy would never do that.
“I was just joking, Daddy!” Katie threw in an uncharacteristic “daddy.”
“I don’t care if you were serious or not. If Candace decides she wants to dance, she’d be exempt on her birthday and Christmas. Your mom would be as well, and Mother’s Day. If they aren’t feeling well or we are doing other stuff, then this is just a game in the garage and it’ll be here another day.”
He waited for my sister to register her understanding. Candy folded her arms across her chest triumphantly, clearly vindicated by our older sister being dressed down.
“As to you, I told you that you could try this out because I think you may get a thrill out of it, and I’d rather teach you to do it properly than let you mess around and try it with some stranger or on your own. If you want to dance, a few times and it’s not for you, that’s not a problem. If you want to keep doing it then you will do it my way.”
Candy was about to ask what that meant but my father didn’t give her a chance to spit it out.
“That means that I’ll call you Candy anytime I want, day or night because I am not going to switch back and forth like I do with your mom. She’s Barbie in here, Barbara out there,” he indicated the rest of the world with his hands and clarified she’d be “Mom” to the rest of us. If the others call you Candy, then that’s between you and them. I am not going to insist they do, and I am not going to get into telling them they can’t do something I’d do.”
My father’s intensity rose as he spoke, but his voice never did. “If you don’t want to be in the hot seat regularly, I suggest you try it a few times anyway, but I am not going to beg you, and I am not going to make you do it. If you start doing it regularly, it’s up to me. It’s my chair, and if I let the others take my wife to the chair, I’ll damn sure let them take you. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled.
“Now, I do like being called Sir sometimes, but you’d have to mean it,” Dad smiled warmly but remained serious. “We probably would have a few rules for you around the house, but you wouldn’t be their slave, because my wife isn’t their slave. She’s Barbie the dumb whore in here, and you’d be Candy the dumb bimbo,” Dad decided. “That’s not something you have to decide tonight. I wouldn’t let you make that decision tonight.”
“Yes, Sir, thank you,” Candy looked nervous like she was talking to a celebrity and grateful that my father allowed her to speak.
“Now, go ahead and take a turn with the joystick,” Dad decided that he had made his point.
“You said I would never touch the joystick,” she stammered nervously like this might be a trick question.
“I meant you’d never touch it when you are sitting in it,” our father grew annoyed with her. “You can zap your mom if that’s what you want to do. She doesn’t enjoy being the zapper. You can try it first to make that decision.”
Oddly, Candy was delighted to zap our mom and made silly noises and whistles just like Chris had when it was her turn.
“Sorry,” Katie apologized sincerely after allowing my father a few moments to observe Candy’s rhythm with the joystick.
“You have no reason to apologize, Katie. We are all just trying to figure this out together. You are all asking good questions, and I am not angry. I am proud of you, sweetheart.”
---
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EddieDavidson
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Re: The Shocker (updated part 3 (5/12)
Initially, I thought I'd write a very basic story to get my mojo back.
I was feeling uninspired to continue my current stories and I wanted something different and happy. I wanted to reflect a loving family that get along.
I was also craving more stories like "Floor" (another story on here). I wanted it to feel more organic. I thought I might weave that in and write by the seat of my pants with no outline.
Its easy to get those stories off the ground and in the air. It's trouble to land.
I have tons of scenarios in my head that could have worked, including a mom that's into K9 play, gang bangs, being hung/choked and I considered this being the tip of the iceberg with this family. The problem would be that might lose the focus. The story works no matter what she is into.
The real story is dad just told his daugther he is proud of her. The coming of age of being included in a ritual the parents do intimately, the recognition of maturity and the introduction of really far out fantasies.
I wanted a loving family but also reluctant nudity but also some kink and something different and I also wanted someone to be the butt of the joke/fluffer and came up with this.
Now, I am at a cross road. It's not over. Do I end it with the next chapter? if not, where would you like it to go? are the characters fun to read? is there more nuance?
I've done minimal editing so I am sure there are mistakes. I'll worry about those later. Right now, it's more about - where to go?
I can tell you that after this session, Candy does aftercare and loves the iidea but it is still apprehensive. However, i keep setting up that she sort of wants to be told she has to do it.
I was feeling uninspired to continue my current stories and I wanted something different and happy. I wanted to reflect a loving family that get along.
I was also craving more stories like "Floor" (another story on here). I wanted it to feel more organic. I thought I might weave that in and write by the seat of my pants with no outline.
Its easy to get those stories off the ground and in the air. It's trouble to land.
I have tons of scenarios in my head that could have worked, including a mom that's into K9 play, gang bangs, being hung/choked and I considered this being the tip of the iceberg with this family. The problem would be that might lose the focus. The story works no matter what she is into.
The real story is dad just told his daugther he is proud of her. The coming of age of being included in a ritual the parents do intimately, the recognition of maturity and the introduction of really far out fantasies.
I wanted a loving family but also reluctant nudity but also some kink and something different and I also wanted someone to be the butt of the joke/fluffer and came up with this.
Now, I am at a cross road. It's not over. Do I end it with the next chapter? if not, where would you like it to go? are the characters fun to read? is there more nuance?
I've done minimal editing so I am sure there are mistakes. I'll worry about those later. Right now, it's more about - where to go?
I can tell you that after this session, Candy does aftercare and loves the iidea but it is still apprehensive. However, i keep setting up that she sort of wants to be told she has to do it.
All of my stories: https://storiesonline.net/a/eddie-davidson
The site is free up to 100 chapters a day. You can get unlimited just for submitting stories.
The site is free up to 100 chapters a day. You can get unlimited just for submitting stories.
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