Chapter 4

“NO! I’ll never let you do that! Let me go. You’ve had your fun. I promise I won’t tell your father. You hurt me so much. I can hardly stand.” She wept profusely. “You mustn’t ever do to me, what you said, Robert.”

Tommy growled, “We can do anything we want, to you, Momma, forever and ever.”

“Just let me take a hot bath and forget this ever happened.” She sank to her knees, thankful to rest them on the cups of her fallen bra. The sleeves of her blue dress draped from her waist like defeated sock puppets.

“Heh,” Tommy added, “We don’t have to take baths tonight!”

Robert’s softening dick reminded him of the other thing. He scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Yeah!” Tommy cheered.

“Tommy, we can’t use the bathrooms at all, tonight.” Robert felt a tightness underneath his stomach.

Tommy’s face blanked. “Ohh.” His thoughts went to his own bladder. Thinking about it added urgency to the mild pressure in his. “What about after Dad goes to bed?” Their father slept soundly. “We could sneak upstairs.”

“Maybe, but if Peggy catches us, we’re toast.” She was always getting up in the night, to pee.

Oh, why did her boys have to start talking about peeing? Joan bit her lip and tried to think about anything else. Like her daughter, she used the bathroom every two hours. She hadn’t gone since the boys returned from school. That need, no longer suppressed by horrors inflicted by her sons, caused her to squeak.

Robert heard the small sound. They were all in the same boat, rocking precipitously.

The TV above them sang of ending news. The briefest quiet settled through their home. A network announcer broke it. “And now, The Movie of the Week!” An orchestra swelled, but not as loud as three bladders clamoring below.

Joan groaned. Her husband would be stuck in front of the tube for another two hours! Despite her mental exhaustion and physical distress, it occurred to her. Their mutual discomfort might save her from continued torture and humiliation. “Robert, Tommy, we can’t spend all night here. Let me go, and I’ll tell your dad whatever you want me to say. I swear I’ll never tell him what happened.” She whined, “You made such a mess on me. I just want to clean up.”

Tommy fretted. Was his mother right? How long could they last? The idea of staying made him kinda thirsty, and he had to go to the bathroom. His brother’s need was even more pressing. Robert clamped his lips tight and fidgeted. He looked at his pleading mother. She seemed sincere. Could they really trust her?

It didn’t matter. This was their one and only chance. If they let her go, they would never catch her again. He hadn’t thought of things like bathroom breaks, but if Mom hadn’t discovered their work in the cellar, they would have been more prepared. He turned to a wall and struck it with his fist. The soft blow rippled a shockwave through his body, inflaming his bladder. Then, a terrible, awful, incredible idea came to the older boy. Did he dare? Their dad’s dirty books told of such a thing, but every mention had disgusted him. How could anyone like something so nasty? Once done, it would taint the cellar thereafter. Worse, Tommy might freak out and do something stupid like run upstairs!

His little brother had a mean streak wider than his own. They both wanted to fuck their mom, and were willing to chain her up to do it. They hadn’t used the chains, still sitting in the middle of the floor, because they hadn’t fashioned the manacles they required. Rope was their back up measure, and thank god, they’d prepared that much! Tommy seemed to delight in causing their mother to suffer. Spanking her had made Robert’s dick hard too, but he didn’t want to seriously injure her. Tommy acted as if he didn’t care.

The older boy could rely on one thing about Tommy. His young brother followed his lead, not to be like Robert, but to be better than him. Tommy hated being the youngest. He always tried to prove he was more able than his siblings. This had cause much hilarity over the years, until puberty changed him into a unfulfilled motherfucker.

Tommy worried when his brother didn’t rebuke their mother when she begging them to release her. Their situation had become awkward. He wanted to tell Mom off again, and if his dick got hard again, maybe make her suck it, now that she’d kneeled to the proper height. He found the right words. “If we let you wash, Mom, we’d have to get you dirty again.” He laughed. Those words unlocked his brother’s dilemma.

Robert spun to face his mother and brother. “That’s right, Tommy. Mother doesn’t deserve to wash. She was a filthy pig before we soaked her with our cum.” He stepped over and lifted his soft length of manhood. “The only hot bath she deserves is this.” The pool pressing his insides needed no forcing. The moment he relaxed his loins, boiling pee raced up his dick and streamed out. The blast of bright, orange piss impacted Robert’s target, His mother’s cum soaked skirt. “I’ll wash you good, Mom.” He drew his long held flow back and forth, over her dress.

“GOLL-EEE!!!” Tommy shouted. “No way!” His brother was peeing on their mom and telling her that she deserved it! The young boy’s jaw dropped like an anvil.

“ROBERT!” The mother shrieked. “HOW COULD YOU!!!!” She threw her hands off of her breasts to intercept her son’s torrent of urine blasting against her clothes. She did shield her face, in case he missed. Sheer horror prevented her from twisting away or struggling once more against the iron rings secured to her ankles.” Its stink was the worst she ever smelled. “STOP IT!”

Once unleashed, Robert’s bladder would not give up until its contents had given out. He managed to grin, despite how gross it felt to be peeing on his mother, the mother who had shown nothing but love to him. If she hadn’t made him and his brother so horny, he wouldn’t be peeing on her. This was for Tommy’s sake as much as it was for him.

True to his history, Tommy was only stunned by his brother’s grotesque act, for a moment. His desire to outshine his siblings tore through his disgust like tissue holding back a fire hydrant. “That’s the way to teach her, Robert!” He turned his body to Mom’s crouched form and let go with all he had. Tommy’s penis erupted with a lighter colored stream of pee. Unlike his brother, he simply aimed at her general direction, hitting her square on her naked back. He laughed upon seeing the cum drying there fly away from the impact of his piss. “You’re just a dirty whore, Mother, and this proves it!”

A strength she hadn’t known before, welled up and issued from her throat. She shrieked and screamed at her sons. “ARE YOU CRAZY!! THIS IS HORRIBLE! STOP! STOP! STOP IT!!” Her eyes flooded with tears. She had never been so thoroughly humiliated. She hunched down into the smallest target she could, away from both foul jets. “PLEASE, NO!!” She wailed and wailed.

“Wash her good, Tommy.” Robert forced himself to say. He hadn’t wanted to pee on her dress, but it was better that than where Tommy sprayed. How would they dare touch it to get what they ultimately wanted? He growled. “Never think you can tell us what to do, Mother.” He stepped closer as the last of his pee arced out of his dick and into her piss and cum soaked skirt. He made sure it caught every last drop. It was just cold enough in the cellar to see steam rise from her discolored dress.

Joan bent down. Tommy’s piss splashed off of her back and ran into her hair and trickled down her arms. She coughed as if she were going to vomit. She almost did. The new horror, still pouring out of her youngest son’s penis was too much for her. She could only curl up as best she could, to hide from them and the world.

Tommy hadn’t been as desperate to pee. He earlier concern had only heightened his need. His flow of pee slacked seconds after his brother. Still, his was the last piss to defile their mother, and that was important to him. “That taught her, right Robert?”

The older boy cleared his throat before aswering. Bile had risen at what they’d done. “Yeah.” He echoed his brother. It was all he could say without getting sick.

For a long while, the cellar rang with the sound of their Mother’s whimpering. “No. No. This isn’t happening. Dear god, no...”

Tommy sneered for effect and strode to the battered couch. He kicked off his pants and underwear and sat half naked. Robert untied his mother’s ankles from the floor rings. Her feet were white from lack of blood.

“Don’t you dare move, Momma, or we’ll chain you up to the ceiling, next.”

Joan felt no relief at the freeing of her feet. She fell to one side, hugging her foul smelling, wet body, in a fetal position. Upon registering Robert’s warning, she looked up ... eyes fearful. Above her, a huge eye-bolt had been screwed securely into a wide crossbeam supporting the main floor. They would hang her from that bolt, if she tried to escape. She nodded despite her confusion and trepidation. She was in no shape to fight them.

Robert kicked off his lower garb and sat at the other end of the couch. “Feel like reading?” He grinned at the book they had jerked off to, earlier that day. Its presence felt like congratulations for a task well begun. Soon they would accomplish all that it, and dozens of their father’s books, had described for their delight.

“I can’t believe you did that, Robert. That was sick!” Tommy beamed. “And it totally worked.” He pointed at their mom. “She’s just waiting for more.”

Robert couldn’t say, yeah, but she’s all gross now. “Nah.” He blustered. “She’s trying to hold her own in.”

“Really?” Her mother’s bathroom status hadn’t occurred to Tommy. He jumped up, bright with new plans. “Hey, Mom. You have to pee too, don’t you.” He sauntered up to his mother’s clenched form.

“Tommy.” She whispered, unable to speak, lest her bladder give way. “Please, I’ll do anything, i-if you let me go to the bathroom.”

“Huh.” He docked his fists to his hips. “You think you’re better than us? We didn’t use the bathroom. For all I care, you can piss on yourself, just like we did.”

“That was a terrible thing-” Joan began.

“Blah, blah, blah...” Robert interrupted from the couch. “From now until morning, you’re the cellar’s toilet.”

“Noo. Please, no.” Her body shivered. She was at her limit. The hot piss that soaked her dress and skin had cooled, making her want to pee more than ever.

“Go on, Mom.” Tommy urged. “You can do it. Pee. Let it go. Piss in your panties, Mom.”

“AAAAUUUGGGHHHH!!” Joan wailed when her best effort failed. Piss flushed from her groin like it burst from a hydrant. It smashed into her panties and exploded out every edge of its thick material, as well as thoroughly soaking in. “No no no no no no no...” She cried while her bladder let go with four hours of pent up urine.

“Geez, Mom, you’re really pissing your pants!” Tommy stepped back from streams of bright pee gushing out under the hem of her skirt. “You are a dirty pig.” He laughed.

“You made me-” His mother wailed. “I couldn’t help-” She blubbered and moaned. “nnnnnnooooooo...” The flow lessened as her voice faded. Last dribbles ran down the mother’s legs. What hadn’t absorbed into her dress and hair, puddled under her half naked, quivering form.