Chapter 8: Punishing the Naughty Mommy

Cum dripped off Mrs. Armstrong’s face. My brother’s cum.

A shudder rippled through my body. This was so hot. Melody, my half-sister, and I made the MILF cum. She wasn’t supposed to. Her wimpy husband, being trained to be her dominant master by my brother, had given her orders.

I was surprised she held off from cumming as long as she did. Mr. Armstrong wasn’t the most dominating man even now.

“How shall we punish her?” Clint asked Mr. Armstrong. “She came, she sucked my dick without your permission, and she licked Zoey’s cunt.”

I loved it. Clint just rammed his cock into her mouth while she was riding my strap-on dildo. I licked my lips, Melody’s sweet pussy juices coating my mouth and cheeks. She tasted so good. I loved the incestuous flavor.

“Well?” Clint asked again. He was such a strong, young man. Tall, his hair dark, his body muscular. He must have taken one of those super Viagra pills because he was still hard, his dick thrusting hard before him. He stood over the MILF, her lush face dripping with cum. His seed fell down onto her round breasts.

I loved his cum. He had bred me with that incestuous seed. It was so hot. I only found out today.

“Uh...” Mr. Armstrong was a slender man. He was still holding his cock, jerking it off as we played with his wife.

As Clint used her mouth.

“Be a man,” Clint growled. “She came. She indulged in her pleasures.” A smile grew on Clint’s lips. “She sucked on my cock.”

“Spank her,” Mr. Armstrong said. It almost sounded like a question.

I rolled my eyes.

Melody giggled as she pressed against Clint, her round breasts swaying. She had loose, sandy-blonde hair spilling around her flushed face. I made her cum hard. She held our brother the way a lover would. She was his first sister. One of the two of us he loved the most.

“That’s it?” asked Clint. “Just spank her? We’ve already done that.”

I nodded my head. Clint spanked her hard and then her husband took it up as punishment for her being a lying cunt. She came to the lesbian massage parlor I worked at, founded by our friends Juana and her sister-slave. After enjoying our services, she’d freaked out when she realized her daughter had made her cum.

She almost destroyed the Lady’s Touch Massage Parlor with her selfishness.

She hated Stefani, her daughter and my lover, for being in a lesbian relationship with me. Then she came to our massage parlor multiple times. Clint had convinced Mr. Armstrong that his wife was a cheating, dyke whore because the wimpy guy wasn’t a strong husband giving her what she needed.

Control and pleasure.

“She needs more than being spanked.” Clint grinned at Melody. She winked a hazel eye. “Bondage.”

“Um...” Mr. Armstrong said. “Well, I have the rope in the car you had me buy. I haven’t tied her up since last week.”

This was the Armstrongs second lesson Clint had given. Last week, he taught Mr. Armstrong how to safely tie up his wife without hurting her.

“No, we need more than that,” Clint said. “Let’s go to our dungeon.”

“Dungeon?” squeaked Mrs. Armstrong.

“Does your wife have permission to speak?” Clint demanded.

“Quiet, whore,” Mr. Armstrong said, his voice cracking. “You ... you don’t speak right now. Not after sucking his cock.”

She flushed and lowered her head, more cum dribbling off her cheeks. She wiggled her hips. I rolled my eyes, my hands playing with the harness of my strap-on dildo. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stefani peeking into the living room. We were in the third house our family owned.

The play house.

“You have a dungeon?” Mr. Armstrong croaked. His face was pale.

“It’s in the basement,” Clint said, nodding his head over his shoulder at a short hallway. There was a door there.

Mr. Armstrong marched towards it, passing Clint. My brother sighed, shook his head, then grabbed Mrs. Armstrong’s dark-red hair in a firm grip. She gasped as my brother hauled her to her feet and dragged her after her husband, the woman half-bent over.

Pussy cream dripped down her thighs.

I smiled at Stefani as Mr. Armstrong opened the door and headed down the stairs, Clint following, dragging the man’s wife like she was his personal sex slave. Melody sauntered after with a sway to her rump.

I winked at Stefani and followed, my fingers undoing the harness of the strap-on soaked in the MILF’s juices. I dropped it on the ground and, as I headed down the stairs, I saw Stefani snag it up. I giggled as she licked at her mother’s juices off the dildo.

She was eager to join the fun.

My large breasts jiggled with each step. They swayed back and forth, the thick carpet on the stairs muffling our footsteps. Clint made sure there was the most comfortable flooring for us to play on. This house saw us having sex everywhere. None of the kids were allowed in here.

At least, not until they were mature enough.

I reached the bottom and entered our dungeon. Pam, my half-Japanese sister, waited. You would never know she was actually one of our family members, but our father, like Clint, had a thing for Asian women. My mother and Aunt Vicky would bring him sexy, Far East beauties for him to enjoy.

Both my mom and aunt were good sex slaves to both my dead dad and Clint.

“I knew she would break,” Pam said. The petite, Japanese woman wore a black corset about her torso, lifting her round breasts into two delicious mounds. Her dark-brown nipples thrust out hard. She wore her hair in a French braid, falling black down her back, a few errant strands tumbling down her porcelain cheeks. A bubbling laugh burst from her lips, full of her amusement.

“I have plenty of delights to use on her to punish her,” said Pam. She motioned to a table where she’d set out a variety of wicked delights.

“Darn,” muttered Mr. Armstrong as he stared at the massive butt plug sitting beside the other items. Clothespins, clover clamps, vampire gloves, a Wartenberg wheel, several leather straps, two paddles (one with holes drilled through the polished wood), a pair of flails (one with thick leather straps and the other fine, thin tails), a whip, a coil of red rope, handcuffs, and a spreader bar.

“What do you want to use on her?” asked Clint as he pushed Mrs. Armstrong down on her knees. Pam came up to him, pressing against his side, her eyes bright.

“I don’t know,” Mr. Armstrong said. He picked up the Wartenberg Wheel. It looked like a pizza slicer except the wheel had small, blunt teeth that would roll across your skin. It was a medical device to check nerve function.

It felt wicked rolling across your flesh.

“This is ... I mean...”

“Fine,” Clint growled. “A man shouldn’t hesitate. He needs to be in control. Make decisions.” He snatched up the red rope. “Watch.”

Mrs. Armstrong gasped as he pushed her down onto belly, her breasts flattening on the ground. Her hips wiggled from side to side. He pulled her arms behind her back and bound her wrists together. She shuddered as he wrapped them up, braiding the rope around her arms as he worked higher and higher.

“Oh, wow,” groaned Mr. Armstrong as he watched Clint work with skill.

Melody hugged Pam from behind. She nuzzled into our Japanese half-sister, cupping Pam’s tits. She moaned, wiggling in delight, melting into Melody’s embrace. The two loved each other as much as my brother.

My pussy clenched as Melody pinched Pam’s nipples.

Clint pulled Mrs. Armstrong up into a kneeling position as he went to work on her body. He wound the rope around her stomach, then did a complicated braiding to wrap the rope up her belly, the red cable beautiful against her pale skin. He then looped the rope around her tits. He squeezed her mounds with the rasping hemp.

Mrs. Armstrong moaned as first her right tit then her left were wrapped, her breasts jiggling, looking swollen. Her nipples were hard. Cum dribbled down her face. She licked her lips, tasting the cum. She whimpered, her body shifting, kneeling there as Clint finished his knots.

Stairs creaked behind me.

Clint glanced up and smiled. “Well, if your father can’t decide how to punish your mother, what do you think?”

I threw a look behind me to see Stefani peeking around the corner. She blushed. What, did she think we wouldn’t notice her? She stepped out naked, her round breasts jiggling, her fiery hair sweeping around her shoulders. She had a sleek stomach that flowed down to her shaved pussy, her dandelion tattoo looking so hot on her pubic mound.

“You’re being naughty, Dandi,” I purred. I loved the pet names we had for each other.

“I have, Yunie,” she said, winking at me.

My hands idly brushed my unicorn tattoo on my shaved pubic mound.

“Well, let’s see,” said Stefani. “How to punish my bitch of a mother ... Hmm...”

Her father gaped at her, his hand covering his hard cock. Her mother squirmed, staring down, her cheeks going scarlet, making my brother’s cum really stand out. Stefani had a saunter to her steps, juices dripping down her thighs.

“How should I make you suffer for being such a hypocritical dyke, Mother?” hissed Stefani. She grabbed a Paddle. “Maybe I should spank your ass until it’s black and blue?”

“Mmm,” moaned Melody, her fingers pinching Pam’s nipples. Both their eyes watched with molten lust in them, Pam’s slanted and dark.

“Hot,” whimpered Pam.

“Or should we whip you?” Stefani asked. “I’m pretty good at the whip. I can raise welts across your ass. One for every time your tongue licked through my pussy.”

“What?” asked Mr. Armstrong.

“Oh, Daddy, Mommy ate my pussy and loved it,” purred Stefani. “She had her tongue deep in me. She feasted on me. Oh, she’s a pussy-licking fiend.”

“Yes, she is,” I purred.

Mr. Armstrong swallowed. “Why is my daughter here?”

“She’s not supposed to be,” Clint said, giving my lover a hard look. “But she’s a concerned party. She was hurt badly by your whore-wife’s actions. She has every right to punish her.”

“She ate my pussy, Daddy, then called me a freak,” hissed Stefani. “She pretended she didn’t love the taste of my cunt. She feasted on me.”

“Oh, yes, she did,” I purred.

Mr. Armstrong swallowed. “Well, honey, I’m sorry. Your mother is ... is a whore. She shouldn’t have eaten your pussy at all. She should have been a faithful wife.”

“I should have,” whimpered Mrs. Armstrong. “I’m trying. I just...”

“You need to be a man, Daddy,” said Stefani. She picked up the vampire glove. It was made of fine, black leather, the palms and fingers covered with fine needles. “Now this is naughty. If you’re not careful, you can draw blood. It scratches. Lee always howled when Clint rubs her with it. The way she cums with it...” My lover shook her head. “No, no, this isn’t right.”

She passed the clover clamps, a type of nipple clamp with springs. When you tugged on the chains at the end, they tightened, squeezing the nubs harder. She brushed the massive butt plug, shaped like a smooth Christmas tree that flared nearly as wide as my wrist. She touched it, rocking it, before she moved to the box full of clothespins.

“Mmm, these,” she said, picking it up. “Shall we decorate her, Yunie?”

I smiled at her and sauntered over, passing the MILF, my brassy hair dancing about my shoulders. My pink nipples throbbed. Once, I’d let Melody clamp one. It hurt and yet felt exciting. It wasn’t for me. I wasn’t a pain slut like Mrs. Armstrong clearly was.

I took one from the box and opened it. It was a regular wooden clothespin. The spring snapping the jaws back shut when I released them. Mrs. Armstrong trembled, her bound tits looking so swollen. So in need of being decorated by them.

Stefani and I knelt before her. We both reached for her breasts, for her mother’s hard nipples. Just as we were about to clamp her nubs, Clint said, “You’re not even going to say it’s okay, Mr. Armstrong?”

“Okay?” the weak man said.

“They’re about to play with your wife,” Clint said, “and you’re not objecting? Are you just going to let us do whatever we want to your wife?”

“Well...” The man swallowed.

I clamped Mrs. Armstrong’s left nipple as Stefani snapped her clothespin on the right. The wooden jaws pinched both pink nipples, compressing them. Mrs. Armstrong gasped. Her back arched. She let out whimpers, pain and pleasure crossing her face.

“Whoops,” I said. “Should we take them off, Mr. Armstrong?”

“Yes, should we, Daddy?” Stefani asked, her eyes smoky.

“It’s okay,” he said. “She needs to be punished and ... and ... I’m sorry if she said the things she said, Stefani. After all ... The things your mother has done.”

My girlfriend and I grinned at each other. Then our hands darted into the box and pulled out the clothespins. We attacked her mother. We clipped them on her breasts, pinching her skin. Her mom moaned, her green eyes wide. Her head threw back as the clothespins swayed while her swollen breasts jiggled.

One after the other, we circled her tits. She moaned louder and louder. Her face contorted. I breathed in deeply, inhaling tangy musk. Her mother dripped juices as we applied more and more of them. I’d heard Lee or my mother making noises like this, that mix of pain and pleasure.

Agony and rapture.

“You like this, don’t you, Mother?” hissed Stefani, clamping a clothespin on her mother’s upper tit.

“It’s ... it’s...” The woman’s face contorted. “It feels ... It hurts, but ... but ... It feels ... It makes me ... I...”

“You love it,” I purred, clamping another clothespin on her tit. They swayed. There were dozens of them per breast. “Don’t you? You’re just a naughty slave that loves the pain.”

Mrs. Armstrong whimpered and nodded her head.

“Do you see, Daddy?” Stefani said, her hand grabbing another clothespin. She pinched this one on her mother’s stomach between lengths of red rope crisscrossing her torso. “Mommy’s just a submissive whore.”

“She is,” groaned her father. “She just needs to be controlled, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, I do,” moaned Mrs. Armstrong. “I’ll just be wanton. I want to eat our daughter’s pussy. I lied. I loved it. I was just shocked. I felt I should hate it. I was ashamed she knew I loved pussy. I’m such a hypocrite. Yes!”

I clamped a clothespin on her belly, pinching the toned skin. She shuddered, whimpered. We went lower, working down her stomach, adding more and more clothespins to decorate her body. We were heading to her auburn bush.

My girlfriend grinned at me as she darted her hand down between her mother’s thighs with another clothespin. She nudged through her mother’s pubic hair and found thick, engorged labia covered in pussy juices.

She clamped her mother’s cuntlip.

“Oh, my Lord!” gasped the MILF, her clothespin-studded tits bouncing. Her swollen breasts looked so delicious, her skin stretched taut. Her dark-red hair danced about her contorting face. “Oh, that hurts! Oh, yes, yes, punish my disgusting pussy! I’m such a wicked mother! A whorish wife!”

I grabbed another clothespin. Grinning at my girlfriend, I found the MILF’s other labia. I clamped it. She gasped and bucked, her juices running down the clothespin, soaking the wood. The tangy passion swelled, my own cunt aching with delight.

“Mmm, that’s hot,” moaned Stefani. “Don’t you think, Daddy? Isn’t she such a beautiful whore?”

“Yeah,” groaned her dad.

“But she needs something else. Daddy, fetch that butt plug for me.”

Mr. Armstrong obeyed his daughter. He grabbed the thick, black cone and rushed it over to his daughter, his cock bobbing before him. It was so small compared to Clint’s. My brother watched, standing beside our sisters as Melody played with Pam’s tits.

Their three eyes on us were so hot. My pussy was on fire.

Stefani smiled as she moved around her mother. I followed, wanting to watch the fun. The MILF moaned and whimpered. Stefani licked the tip of the butt plug. Her tongue danced around the end of the rubber cone. She soaked it in her spit before she grinned at me.

This was so hot. I parted her mother’s asscheeks, exposing that puckered asshole.

“Mmm, Mommy, I couldn’t help noticing how hard you came from the anal beads,” Stefani purred. She lowered the butt plug to her mother’s crack. “You’re going to love this, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” the woman moaned. “Stefani!”

Her back arched, her arms wiggling against the bonds. The rope rasped as her daughter drilled the butt plug into her asshole. I shuddered, watching that tight, brown anal ring swallowing it as Stefani pressed it deeper and deeper into Mrs. Armstrong. She groaned as her asshole stretched wider and wider.

It was so hot to witness. Stefani drilled it deeper. Her mother moans grew louder. They were throaty and passionate. Mrs. Armstrong’s body wiggled back and forth. Her moans echoed through the dungeon. Everyone watched her.

“Oh, Lord, that’s huge!” the MILF whimpered. “Oh, that’s so big. She’s stretching me out, honey. Our daughter’s stretching out my asshole! It’s incredible.”

“Are you ... are you going to cum?” groaned Mr. Armstrong.

“Yes, yes, yes!” the MILF howled as Stefani thrust it harder.

I groaned as the massive butt plug vanished into her mother’s asshole. Her hole squeezed shut around the stem, the knob nestled between her butt cheeks. Her mother’s body bucked and heaved. Pussy juices gushed down her thighs, coating the clothespins in her cunt cream. That tangy passion filled my nostrils.

Her moans echoed through the room. It was so incredible. I loved it. My pussy clenched as Mrs. Armstrong kept proving how much of a pain-slut she was. It was incredible. I once thought this woman was the most prudish cunt on the planet.

She was a kinky whore.

“Ooh, Daddy,” Stefani purred, standing up, “looks like Mommy disobeyed you again. She didn’t ask permission to cum, did she?”

“No, she didn’t,” groaned her father. He stroked his cock again, staring at his wife with such lust in his eyes.

“She’s just a whore,” moaned Melody, pinching our half-sister’s tits.

Pam whimpered in agreement while Clint had a big smile on his lips. He had his arms folded across his muscular chest, not stroking his hard cock like a desperate wimp. He controlled his desires. He wasn’t a slave to them.

Stefani rose and headed to the table. She grabbed both of the flails. She grinned at me, her breasts swaying. “Well, Yunie, thin or thick?”

I stared at the two flails. The thick one had broad strips of leather wider than two of my fingers combined. The other had dozens of thin strips, almost as fine as a whip. One produced a thudding slap and the other a stinging kiss.

“The thick one,” I purred.

“Mmm, you are thicc in all the right places,” my girlfriend purred, staring at my curvaceous body with hungry eyes.

I winked at her.

She handed me the thick one. Then she grabbed her mother and hauled her to her feet. The bound woman gasped. She stumbled, her round breasts jiggling. Her clothespin-studded tits looked so swollen and ripe. Just perfect to enjoy.

“Now stand there, Mommy,” Stefani purred, taking such delight in this, “and let us punish you for cumming without Daddy’s permission. Or mine.”

“I’m sorry, Stefani honey,” she groaned. “I shouldn’t have, but ... The butt plug feels amazing in me. I’m such a slut! And the clothespins ... They hurt so sweetly.”

Stefani grinned. Her arm swung.

SWISH! CRACK!

The thin straps striped her mother’s rump with dozens of red lines. Her mother’s back arched. Her auburn hair danced around her head as she whimpered and groaned, that throaty sound of a slut who loved being punished. Mrs. Armstrong wiggled her hips.

She didn’t retreat.

I drew back my arm and swung the flail.