Chapter 1

I need to provide a little background before I tell you the rest of the story. I think it’s important that you know where I am coming from to understand how we got here as a family.

My brothers and I played a practical joke on my mom and sister a few weeks ago. At the time, I had no idea it would set things into motion that would drastically alter the dynamic of our house.

My two younger brothers, James and Trent, and I frequently played practical jokes on my mom and sister. They’ll often play one on us to get us back. The jokes are never particularly cruel or mean spirited. They are also never very elaborate or clever. This one was one of our favorites. We locked them out of the house and made them beg to get back in so they could go pee.

We left them outside, locked out and banging on the door. My mom and sister begged to get in and eventually pissed in their jeans. I know it sounds horrible, but it was kind of funny (at the time). My brothers and I split up so that we could avoid blame. I hung out in our room and pretended I hadn’t been involved at all (but my mom knew better).

My mom came barging into my room to yell at me because she accidentally pissed her pants. Misty is a strong, gregarious woman that has raised us on her own for most of our lives. She’s not a push-over, but she is also not a hard-ass or someone who is going to freak out over that. I like to say she is quick to anger, quick to laugh, quick to forgive and move on.

My mom had never caught me masturbating before. She’s been close, but this time she caught me pants around the ankles, hand on the dick, web browser open. You know – every teenage boy’s nightmare scenario. I was completely busted.

I was also mortified! I had some pretty questionable BDSM videos up on my browser – naughty stuff featuring Asian girls tied up and hanging from rope in a dark room.

Misty laughed it off, told me it served me right to get humiliated, and that we were even now. She happened to notice I was looking at bondage porn. My mom said she’d always wanted to get tied up, and she wondered what the girls got out of doing it. I can’t recall precisely how I handled this awkward conversation with my mother, but one thing led to another, and I volunteered to satisfy her curiosity.

I really didn’t think my mother would go for it. She obliged me by volunteering to let me tie her up in the garage. We had an old Cherry Picker that a guy she used to date had left in our garage. It’s intended to pull engines out of a car, but it worked fantastically as a framework to hang her by her wrists.

I was dismayed that my mother stripped naked for this little exercise. I assumed she’d keep at least some of her clothes on. She was never particularly shy, but she also didn’t walk around the house stark naked in front of me and my brothers. She said that basically, women who engage in getting tied up are usually naked, so she wanted the complete experience.

My mom’s self-deprecating humor, and general demeanor made tying her up feel less ‘sexual’ and more ‘naughty’ instead. I knew I shouldn’t tie up my mom, but at the same time – she was curious, I was bored, and that is a dangerous combination.

At some point, my brothers and sister found out, popped some pop corn and sat out in the garage and made a game of it. It was kind of silly, and nothing particularly notable happened in that session. I was shocked when she wanted to do it again.

I must have sparked some interest in bondage that she didn’t realize that she had.

However, she realized that she shouldn’t be playing naughty games with her sons. She invited this total dickhead named “Doug” over to her house. Doug is a friend of my father. I already had a strained relationship with my dad, and Doug reminded me a lot of my father.

Doug came over and made things awkward right away. He was kind of obnoxious and rubbed all of us the wrong way. I won’t go into details, but Doug was clearly at the house to fuck my mom and he could have given two shits about the rest of us.

He and my mom disappeared over the weekend in the garage. We weren’t invited in to watch or participate or anything like that. My mom planned to really get freaky and apparently, they did. Doug brought in more guys, whips, chains, the whole thing. He wrote dirty words all over her in permanent marker and then the dipshit left her hanging in the garage without any explanation.

When I finally found my mom, she looked haggard, had “Urinal ‘written on her, cum dripping from her thighs, and bruises and marks all over her body. I thought that would be the end of things.

Misty surprised us, by wanting to continue the experience (just not with Doug). We talked her into letting us treat her the same way. I reasoned that we already seen her at her worst, and if she wanted things to be that rough – we would never “leave her hanging” and it would be less dangerous for her.

We drew up some “rules” of engagement. The initial rules were simple enough they would have fit on a cocktail napkin. They defined very basic boundaries, limits and roles while we did these sessions. We didn’t HAVE sex, but we did things that were “sexualish” in nature – paddled her ass, tied her up, whipped her.

The most infamous of these rules were “Rules One and Two” that were in effect all the time. My mom said that we could slap her butt, grab her tits, tickle her, poke her whenever we wanted around the house. She said that she liked the surprise of being randomly groped, and since we did it in the garage it was fine around the house.

My sister didn’t have anything to do with this. She thought we were all bonkers, but she did watch and observe. Hope is a blonde, big-boobed goth girl with a snarky attitude.

The second most infamous rule was “Rule Five” which basically said that this relationship was limited to the house, and we couldn’t tease my mom out in public or even tell anyone about the games we played at home.

My mother was adamant that she was not our “Slave”. She wasn’t going to clean up after us, obey us, or do anything that “slaves” would do. She was comfortable being called a “Pet” when we played in the garage, and we started treating her that way at meals and around the house.

It really didn’t start out as a “relationship”. It was more of a game. We adjusted and tweaked the rules almost as frequently as we tweaked my mom’s nipples. We discovered that Misty really got off on denial – getting close to having an orgasm and then having to earn it. It was fascinating watching my mother flop around while covered in sweat and her own pussy juices as she begged to be permitted to cum.

We created a dynamic power exchange relationship through the modification of the rules. Everyone had to agree to the changes. One big one that my mom asked for was that we stop calling her “mom”. She swore she’d always BE our mom, but that when we called her “mom” during the BDSM sessions that it creeped her out. She asked that we call her Misty.

It was a concession that we were more than happy to make with her. Even My sister started doing it. The simple act of calling her “Misty” instead of “Mom” started to turn the tables from her as an authority figure to Misty as more of a house pet. We didn’t realize it at first, but over time it felt very natural to call her “Misty” and odd to say “Mom”.

We did consider Hope when we made the rules. As a concession, my mom agreed to clean Hope’s room as part of the games.

At first, I thought Hope was just being an asshole by asking for that. She hardly ever did chores anyway, but I came to believe that my sister felt left out of the games we played with our mother. She had a dedicated 1:1 time with Misty. Hope kind of is a lazy asshole too, so getting her room cleaned was just cream on top.

Rule five started to erode away bit by bit. Misty had initially refused to alter how things worked in public. However, just due to the fact that the tables had turned at home and we were spanking our mom at home, it started to manifest in public.

At first, it was minor stuff like punishing her in the car by making her drive with weights attached to her nipples. No one could see her, but the risk that she might get caught kind of turned my mom on.

I think it was when we went to an adult novelty store to buy some more dildos and whips and things truly flipped. Most people buy their porn and sex toys online these days. This store made its money primarily by renting stalls to watch DVDs.

The thing is – most of those TV monitors don’t even work. They were just a pretense for glory holes with a very active swinger community that was willing to pay for access to anonymous sex.

I didn’t think we’d actually get in. The cashier had her own motivations for letting us in because the Gloryholes are a source of profit for them. People not only rent the stalls, but they tip the more attractive participants with gift certificates and the store makes money that way.

At the time, I didn’t know that. I just thought maybe I got lucky, or the store was very lax on their rules.

My brothers and I didn’t restrict my mom from having sex. I didn’t want her to get with a guy like Doug, but I was kind of hoping she’d go into the glory holes and be really slutty. I proposed some checks and balances to the rules that allowed my mom to fuck whoever she wanted but she had to ASK us permission. My mom was notoriously bad at picking guys, and I thought this would prevent another Doug situation.

We even proposed that we’d be able to tell her to go up and offer sex to a total stranger or someone she knew.

Misty surprised us. She said she didn’t want to ask anyone for sex. I know it probably sounds devious or deranged, but she felt stupid having to walk up to a total stranger, strike up a conversation and ask to have sex. “I’ll fuck whoever you tell me to fuck, but I don’t want to have to ask them.”

Misty told us she loved sucking cocks and having sex (just not with us). She’d be down to do it with anyone as long as they were willing.

We made my mom suck off as many cocks as she could at the glory holes that first night. It turns out that as a courtesy, many of the solo men will “tip” in the form of a gift certificate. The store makes money because now you HAVE to buy their crappy merchandise (and many of the women who came their regularly never even use their gift certificates).

We subsequently learned that the woman who had let us into the adult store was breaking store rules, because she was skimming those tips, but that’s another story all together.

Fast forward:

After a few weeks we had formalized a weekly “Reflection” where Misty gets handcuffed, stuffs herself with dildos and sits quietly while we review her performance that week and propose new rules. We then permit her to speak, and she gets to propose her own, and speak about what she did right, did wrong, and wants to do more of in the coming week.

My sister knew how to do body piercings because of her goth friends at school. We convinced Hope to pierce Misty’s clit and nipples in exchange for a concession where Hope got to drive the car. Hope not only got to drive Misty to work and back, but even use the car to go out on dates. That weekend, we had to be more careful with my mom’s body and let it heal.

Hope proposed that we go to the nearby Ren Fair. I didn’t know if that would be fun or not, but with the suspension of “Rule Five” we planned to make it a little fun. This is the story of that day.

These rules started with a napkin that we hand wrote and put on the fridge. We just had two rules at the start of things and those were pretty vague. Over time, we refined and agreed upon the rules together. They were definitely a collaborative effort. These are the current hose rules and now they take up several sheets of paper.

There is a story behind how each of these came to be, but if you want to read all that, you should read how it all began. I’ll just give you the rules for now.

CURRENT HOUSE RULES:

The context of this last rule was that we wanted to save all the negotiations and new rule discussion for one day out of the week. We’d spent a lot of time discussing the rules in the beginning and it was overshadowing everything. The Reflection was also a chance to collect our thoughts and give feedback in a family meeting.

Now you are caught up on all the rules – let me tell you what happened after Hope pierced our mother’s clit and nipples.

SUNDAY AFTER THE PIERCING:

In the morning, Misty was very sore. She was naked and only wore the collar. She didn’t even wear her heels. My brother Trent was already awake with her in the kitchen. The two of them had obviously talked last night. They were talking when I came in and then stopped.

Normally, Trent would be smacking her ass and tits around the kitchen – especially if he was alone with her and Misty was naked.

She had bruises on her arms and legs. That was fairly normal for Misty these days, but she also had some swelling around her nipples and pussy that was unusual even for her. She was also walking a little funny. The clit ring was bothering her.

“I am worried I’ve lost feeling in my nipples,” she touched them. Hope and James joined us shortly after. She asked Hope if losing sensation was normal. Misty was obviously worried about losing a tremendous source of joy and pleasure in the form of the wicked naughty feelings she got when someone played rough with her tits.

“Yeah, but it can come back; just keep putting crème. Don’t have sex,” Hope said. She stopped talking when we all looked at our sister like she had just blasted a huge, stinky fart.

“There are OTHER things you can do,” Hope rolled her eyes and shook her head to imply that there was more than vaginal sex.

“You mean anal?” Trent asked.