Chapter 9

My busted asshole was still dripping with cooze after my son slipped his dick out when I felt my arms pulled tightly behind my back and bound.

Justin also applied very restrictive and heavy ankle chains to my feet and tightened them so they dug into my skin.

Betty had brought all the sex toys and gadgets that weren’t stolen by her pimp with her to our house. Most of them were makeshift from a hardware or pet store. My son slipped elastic rubber bands around my tit and then tightened the loop and tied them tight to cut off the circulation to my tits. The result was a painful, restrictive feeling that turned them slowly purple and made them bulge as they filled with blood desperate to return to my heart. My nipples became engorged and elongated.

That was just for starters. Justin clipped a wooden clothespin on my nose and then two on my pussy flaps. He snapped two more on my nipples. The jagged little pinchers on the ends of the clothespins held my nipple-flesh in their mouths and squeezed them hard.

My son was putting a restrictive leather neck brace on me that gave me a choking sensation when my husband stormed out of the kitchen.

Stefan was sullen and bitter towards me. Despite his apparent disdain for what I was doing, my husband presented himself like a White Knight coming to my rescue. He waved his hands. “Meatloaf! Meatloaf! This is too much for your Mom!”

Some princesses don’t want to be rescued. My daughter Anna told me that once when we were watching Mulan, and it gave me some comfort because I wanted Stefan to leave us alone and let us finish even though my son was choking the crap out of me!

I was finding it hard to breathe and gasping as my son tightened the choker collar and applied a spider gag to my mouth. He was forcing my tongue out through a hole in the ring that would hold my mouth open as my husband demanded Justin release me from the restraints and gags.

“Stefan, this is not about you!” I scolded my husband as I gasped for air. I was surprised he could understand me at all with my mouth held open obscenely wide.

“This is absurd! This is my house! I’ll not have you treat your mother like this in front of me!” Stefan scoffed.

Justin relaxed my gag slightly and asked me to tell him whether I wanted to continue or not.

I was breathing heavy, and I looked up at Stefan. He looked back at me and smiled lovingly. At that moment, I did feel pity for him.

“Is talking to Stefan part of my evaluation for pain tolerance Sir?” I snapped coldly.

Waverly laughed into her mother’s pussy, and the other two women giggled.

My son put stuck a wooden dowel shaped like a Baker’s rolling pin without the handles into my pussy. The dildo-like pin was a smooth, thick wooden cylinder with bumpy ridges on the side and the biggest dildo I’d ever had. I opened my legs slightly to accept it.

“I asked him to Master Justin to evaluate me, Sir. Please don’t interfere,” I said politely.

“Why does he need to evaluate you?” Stefan was not understanding that I was going to go through with this with or without him, and I needed him to understand.

“How else can he decide if he wants me for his pet piggy, Sir?” I asked Stefan, and I saw a tiny piece of my husband crumble right before my eyes.

“You can’t possibly want him to choke you?” Stefan said.

“I want him to evaluate me, and that means choking me. If it bothers you to watch then turn off your webcam and go upstairs, Sir,” I said. Justin twisted the dowel in my pussy, and it was agonizing but intoxicating. I squirmed like a little girl seeing Justin Bieber up close and in person.

“It isn’t up to you to tell him what to do, any longer!” Justin got in my face. I agreed with him.

“Dad, we can go to a motel. I’ll make the girls walk the track and get the money that way. This is happening whether you want it to or not. I am not even sure I want to let Mom serve yet,” he said.

I was shocked that Justin had put me through all of this and he still wasn’t sure if he would proceed. That would indeed be a cruel joke on me and a humiliating one at that. I pictured Betty and her daughter’s laughing at me after I endured hours of torture only to be told I wasn’t good enough to join them. It made me more resolved to serve.

“Please test me, Master. I don’t care if Stefan watches. It will make it a better test because I will have to put up with his constant naysaying telling me why we can’t do this when you start training me,” I said politely.

“Dad, I can make the girls walk track and get a motel for you if this really bothers you that much,” Justin offered his father. I was shocked because I hadn’t thought about the fact that Betty and her daughters were legitimately prostitutes. I wondered if that meant I’d have to do the same thing as well. It was the first time I considered that as a real possibility, and I was not sure how I felt about it. It was also not lost on me that Justin didn’t back down. He had made clear we were doing this here, and his dad could LEAVE but he if stayed then this is how it would be from now on here.

“We need money. Mom is already earning donations from people who have an entire laundry list of pain tolerance tests they want to see. You, on the other hand, they do not want to see. This may very well be your house, but when the bank comes for it, then it won’t be. I am trying to do what it takes to save it, so let me,” Justin stood up to his father.

“How do you know that you aren’t choking her to death?” Stefan changed the subject and examined my increasingly purple, swollen tits, and pained expression.

“I’ve had practice,” Justin shrugged towards the other three girls and began to tighten my collar and gag again. I stuck my tongue through the hole in the center of the metal spider gag. The wicked metal gag held my mouth open and then Justin locked my tongue by tightening the O ring around it before putting a clothespin on it so I couldn’t pull it out. I began immediately to salivate and drip slobber down my chin as I gasped for air. The clothespin on my nose had made it impossible for me to breathe through my nose, and the collar restricted my airflow.

Justin alternated testing removing the clothespin and covering my mouth and then making me thread my tongue through the gag and extend it outwards after a minute of suffocating. It was strangely arousing to run out of air slowly.

He left my tongue sticking out after several rounds of playing with it. He began to stick different shaped objects into my asshole. I could tell one was a thick metal buttplug. Then he threaded a long, beaded latex tube into my asshole and pulled them out slowly one by one. Each bead was larger than the next, and I felt the boop, Boop, BOOP as he yanked the string of pearl-like pleasure beads from my asshole.

He rubbed ben gay all over my asshole and pussy and made me dance a little and rubbed it into my tits. The sensation wasn’t all that bad, but it wasn’t pleasant either.

“Okay, she is warmed up! I think I am ready to begin the pain evaluation!” Justin said.

My eyes went wide, and the chat room went wild typing LOL emojis at my panicked expression. I had thought this WAS the pain evaluation, but when Justin told me he was just getting started, I began to imagine all sorts of possible tortures.

He didn’t disappoint.

He used wooden paddles, whips, floggers, and scratchy rope to beat me. Justin tied the rope around my pussy flaps and through my ass so that it scratched and chafed. He bound it around my tits to tighten them further, and then he started smacking me. He started on my tits and ass, but he left no part of my body untouched.

He bent me over and used a wooden dowel on the bottoms of my feet. He scraped a potato peeler down the bottoms of my feet, and it tickled me. Justin noted to the camera how my asshole and pussy quivers when I get tickled.

He used the riding crop on my thighs and calves and beat my pussy with the flat of his hand. He gave me a pink belly with a series of sharp open-handed slaps and continued on to my tits. He added more bindings to my tits to force them to get engorged and swollen. They were turning yellow now.

He choked me with his hands and removed the choke collar and flipped me over and began to flick my ears. He walked me by the scruff of my neck into the kitchen and dunked my head in the kitchen sink.

“How do you like it?” He asked me.

“Don’t forget to spank my ass, Master?” I said coyly through the gag. That was a big hit with the chatroom apparently. I couldn’t see because my make up was dripping down my face from the dirty dishwater. He removed the gag and stuck a dildo down my throat and bent me over his knee.

He made me count each one, but they weren’t the methodical slow affirmation spankings. My son wielded a stout wooden-handled paddle to punish me. He spanked my ass and pussy meat as it hung down 100 times. It was sharp, direct, brutal, and exhausting. I was breathing heavy from the adrenalin and sensation. The pain coursed through my body, and I felt like I was going to scream, but when we reached 100, I begged for more to prove I could be a willing slut. I didn’t think I had that in me, but the more my son pushed me, the more I wanted to be pushed down.

Justin had to change hands twice because he was getting worn out from using my butt.

“Go get a broom and sit on it,” Justin said as he nursed his arm.

“Yes, Master,” I was hobbled by ankle chains and hustled to the broom closet. I returned with a broom and pressed my asshole to the base and pushed back.

“Further!” Justin said and then walked behind me and wrapped his fingers around the base of the broom about six inches down as a goal for me to fuck myself backward on to the broom.

Once I managed the tight fit up my ass, Justin walked back in front of me with a single tail leather whip.

I had seen the movie Roots and knew that whips like that could cut flesh. I cowered.

“Oh, your fear is delicious! Are you ready to give me the safe word?” Justin seemed so sadistic and in control. I whimpered when he cracked the whip loudly.

“Yes, Sir!” I agreed with tears streaming down my face.

“Then say it!” He demanded.

My body was so overstimulated from adrenalin and pain that I could only whimper and mumble.

“What words do you need to say to make this evaluation end?” He asked again.

“I don’t know!” I whimpered.

“Meatloaf! Say Meatloaf and your pain goes away and you can take that stink-box of yours off the broom and put on your clothes as a failure!!” Justin said.

I was ready to give up. I had no idea how long the evaluation had lasted or how long it would last. When Justin called me a failure, a part of me vowed not to fail him.

“No Sir, I don’t want to fail you!” I cried as the slobber and snot running down my nose from what felt like hours of painful tortures.

“SAY Meatloaf!” Justin snarled and held up a lead sinker that fisherman use to weight their line down and some fishing line. I had no idea why.

“No, sir!!!” I composed myself and sniffled.

“Why not?” Justin didn’t touch me. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to be held and cuddled.

“I want to serve, Sir!” I answered trough tears.

Justin removed the clips from my tits and the rubber bands. I thought he was letting me out of my punishment. The blood flowed freely through my tits again. It was a relief, and at the same time, I was worried I had failed. I cried and sobbed.

I felt him attach metal alligator clips to my pussy lips. The metal clips were ridged and painful, and he bound the fishing wire to the lead weights.

“Let’s evaluate that rubber pussy then! and see how far we can snap it!” Justin flicked my clit hood hard with his fingers, and thick wet juice splashed onto my thigh from my pussy. I could smell my body, sweaty and thick with my own musky scent. I hurt, but I stood as straight as I could and let my son attach a 1/2 pound lead-weighted ball to each pussy lip and let them dangle between my legs.

“Dance and clap those knockers together!” Justin uncuffed my hands from behind my back and let me move them around as he ordered me to dance around.

One of the girls brought up Youtube and played an Eazy-E song with a funky Green Acres sample in it.

Cruisin’ down the street in my ‘64
It’s like that, and it’s like this
I took her to tha pad, and we started to kiss
Now my dick’s on hard ya know what I’m thinkin’

Took tha panties off and the pussy wasn’t stinkin’
Pulled off my draws and we started to begin
Now tha pussy’s wet so my dick slides in
Oh, hiddy hiddy hiddy you hoe

Ridin’ from the back so I’m fuckin’ kinda slow
So fee fie foe fuck fum

She’s scratchin’ on my back oh here she comes
Now I gotta get a nutt gotta get a nutt gotta get it quick

Ya know because I love this shit so

Gimmee that, that, that nutt, that nutt, that nutt!

Gimmee that, Gimmee that, Gimmee that nutt!

The rap song was absurdly perverted and difficult for me to dance too. I must have looked completely out of place dancing naked to an O.G. rap song. The point may have been to humiliate me. I did my best to twerk and bounce my tits as I danced in front of my son, the girls, and the entire webcam audience. I still had two big weighted sinkers pulling my pussy flaps open and hanging down at my knees. I knew my husband was watching in the kitchen, and that didn’t bother me as much as realizing hundreds of strangers were laughing at me as I made a fool of myself.