Chapter 2

The next morning I awoke late for breakfast because it was not a school day. Usually, my Grandmother rings a bell, and I am punished if I am not dressed, washed, and ready for breakfast.

This morning I heard many bells jingling downstairs as I awoke and washed up in the washbasin.

My mother was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. She had a very sheer nightshirt that was as translucent as my own. It really didn’t matter because while she was on her hands and knees, I could see her exposed buttocks and the pink slit between her legs. Her buttocks were red and bruised from the beating she received. Her buttocks were flush with red and pulsated like she had recently received a fresh lashing only minutes earlier. A short chain was attached to manacles on her ankles so that she was hobbled and unable to run. She had a similar chain locked around her neck like a dog collar.

She had shaved off all the thick hair, and now I saw two holes as I walked downstairs. Her asshole was puckered and appeared to wink at me like the eye of a blind beggar. The slit of her cunny was fat like taffy that had been stretched out on both sides. Her cunny hole dripped with a translucent liquid.

The chemise skirt was quite short. My mother had brass bells hastily sewn into the hem around the skirt that jingled anytime she moved. She wore a hot, scratchy woolen cap on her head. Madeleine also wore a bra, but the cloth had been removed, revealing a wire harness that held her breasts up but offered nothing towards her modesty.

“Bonjour Mamma,” Nannette and I offered politely. My mother was rarely awake for breakfast that we were almost as shocked to see her awake as we were to look at her in the clownish and obscene outfit.

“Good morning, Guillaume and Nannette,” my mother didn’t look up as she scrubbed the floor.

Fabienne struck my mother across the buttocks with a slender wooden tawse. It was the kind of rod that instructors use on unruly children, but it was much wider and more durable. They had already gone shopping, and it was clear that what they had begun last night had only become more intense.

“You will refer to your son as Monsieur Guillaume and your daughter as Mademoiselle Nannette!” she said.

“Not Maitre or Maitresse?” my mother seemed entirely different this morning. The fire of defiance was missing from her. She didn’t seem defeated as much as she did willing to obey her mother in law.

“Don’t be silly! They are children. They are still your betters and may order you about like the servant you are from now on,” Fabienne told her.

“As you wish, Maitresse Fabienne!” my mother accepted her instructions with a slight sniff and returned to scrubbing.

“Guillaume, I see that you are staring at Madeleine’s cunny,” my Grandmother turned to me. She swished the wooden rod, and I stood up straight.

“It was your mother’s wish that you be educated on female anatomy. That is where Merde is made,” my Grandmother tapped the tip of the wooden rod between my mother’s parted ass cheeks as she crawled low on the ground.

Nanette covered her mouth and giggled.

She tapped my mother’s cunny and told me it was called a pussy or a cunt on a whore like this. “This gaping hole between your mother’s legs is the most sensitive part of her body. As you can see, she is dripping all over the floor as she cleans it because she still finds this amusing,” Fabienne explained to me.

“No, Maitresse Fabienne!” my mother pleaded, but my Grandmother slapped her with the wooden rod across her pussy lips to shut her up.

“Your body betrays your lies! Connasse!” my Grandmother referred to my mother as a filthy word that meant whore.

“You are to refer to your mother as Connasse or Madeleine. She has never carried herself properly, and you would be doing her a disservice by addressing her with respect she is not due,” My Grandmother said. “You will have to indulge her during her re-education by enduring her shameful and vulgar lessons. You must not show any sympathy for her. Madeleine is like a misbehaved child and craves discipline and control.”

Nanette giggled and said the word Connasse.

My Grandmother noticed my quickly hardening penis in my nightshirt. Her eyes narrowed angrily at me. I bent forward slightly and bent my knees to try to hide it in the folds of my shirt. She also saw the cum stains all over the lap. I could tell she was about to dress me down. My knees started to knock together and shake. If she was capable of turning my mother into a crawling hound on the floor, then what might she do to me?

“Take it off immediately!” she shrieked and pointed her finger to my crotch. I was so alarmed. I didn’t protest. My first thought was she expected me to join my mother on the floor.

“Stand against the wall! I have no desire to do battle with Polyphemus today!” Fabienne insisted. Polyphemus is a one-eyed giant of Greek legend. It was also her name for my penis whenever it got erect around her. Grandmother frequently observed my baths, gave me enemas and lashings, and she always shamed me for getting aroused in her presence.

Fabienne tossed my nightshirt on the floor in front of Madeleine. “You are responsible for this. Clean it up! Your lewd and lascivious poses put naughty thoughts into his head. Guillaume had no choice but to spill his seed in the most shameful manner, Connasse! You will clean it in the most shameful manner! Lick it up like a dog!”

“Oui, Maitresse Fabienne! At once,” my mother didn’t hesitate to obey her. Connasse received a cane across her buttocks none the less.

“What is the matter, Connasse? You would lap up spilled Gin in a dirty tavern and the seed of the man who bought it for you. Have we finally found something so debauched even you wouldn’t dare?” Fabienne said.

“Non, Maitresse Fabienne! I am at your command!” my mother muttered as she cleaned the dried cum from my night-shirt. I could not turn around to witness this humbling act, but I desperately wanted to see it. Nannette giggled at my predicament.

“What is this unconscionable spectacle?” my father appeared from his bedroom. He was already dressed in his suit pants, white shirt, and suspenders. I admit I would have been astonished too if this were the first time seeing my mother bowing and scraping to Fabienne.

“Madeleine is being re-educated with discipline,” Fabienne explained to her son.

My father approached his mother and stared in awe at his wife down on her hands and knees. “This is not right, Mamma! What you are doing!”

“It is right, Robert. You will see it. It will be far better for you and her this way,” Fabienne sounded drunk on the authority she now had over my mother. “Connasse has been stripped of any pretense of dignity or decorum. She will be exposed to constant ridicule and hard labor until such time as she has completed my course program of study!”

“This seems rather outrageous. Is it absolutely necessary?” my father asked. He wasn’t challenging Fabienne or demanding her release. My father never stood up to my mother, but he absolutely cringed at the very thought of ruffling his mother’s plans. He was easily intimidated, and he cringed when Fabienne glared at him.

“Tell him, Connasse,” Fabienne demanded imperiously, “Tell Robert why you want to be re-educated at home.”

“It is true, Maitre Robert,” my mother stopped slurping the front of my shirt and looked up from the floor. “It is better this than a life in the asylum or convent,” my mother admitted.

Robert stood, watching his wife licking the shirt like a dog. His mother tossed him a book she was writing in that she entitled Devoirs Des Femmes.

“Homework for women?” Robert asked.

“Yes, lawn chores, cleaning, cooking, and the application of discipline. If there is anything you wish to add to the list, then please write it down, Robert” Fabienne favored her son the way she also preferred Nanette. He could do no wrong in her eyes.

“Yes, mother,” Robert sat at the table and began reading. “Why is Guillaume naked as well? Is he performing homework?” he asked about me as an after-thought.

“The boy is seized by impure thoughts and must spend time in the corner reflecting upon his manners,” Fabienne explained. “I see that you are having impure thoughts as well,” she said as she looked at her son’s bulging pants.

“Mother! Please!” Robert was mortified. His mother noticed his erection.

“You have been denied the pleasures of a husband for so long it isn’t any wonder that you would be aroused even by this indecent display,” Fabienne rubbed her son’s shoulders. “I have made a provision for the release of your manly emissions in chapter two of the Devoirs Des Femmes,” she explained.

Then my Grandmother snapped her fingers and pointed to Robert’s crotch as he sat at our dining table.”Connasse, you will make Robert a little happier – under my watchful eye, of course, and in chains,” she said.

“Oui, Maitresse Fabienne!” my mother crawled over to her husband under the table and unbuttoned his pants with a sense of urgency.

“This is highly irregular,” Robert protested, but it was more of a whimper.

“Shut up, you fool and enjoy it,” Fabienne stroked his hair. She instructed my mother to lick the tip of his cock and not suck the entire shaft. “A whore such as this would find pleasure with a cock in any other hole. She must be denied even the pleasure of your orgasm on her lips!”

Madeleine kissed her husband’s dick and worshipped it with her tongue. Fabienne held my mother by the chain around her neck so that she could not thrust her mouth down around the base of his cock.

“Is this proper behavior at the breakfast table?” Robert asked. I wasn’t sure if he was speaking in general about proper Victorian decorum, or he was concerned Nanette, and I might witness this. My back was to the wall.

“You work so hard, dear Robert. Did you not know that Connasse poses for artists and cavorts like a common strumpet around Pigalle square? What she is doing for you is no less than she would do for any passing stranger with a franc to spend on some cheap wine!” Fabienne explained what Robert knew very well. “When I confronted her about posing in front of Guillaume, she laughed and said the proportions he drew of her vulva were exaggerated. Come, Guillaume, have a closer look at Connasses’s piss flaps! Your mother wanted you to draw them more realistically next time!”

I cupped my erect cock with my hand and obeyed my Grandmother’s orders. “Come, look under the table Guillaume,” she told me to get under the table and look closely at my mother’s naked ass.

My mother flinched slightly but didn’t attempt to close her legs. Her bare buttocks were fully visible to me as she licked my father’s cock.

“Didn’t you say you wished Guillaume would be educated like a good husband, Connasse?” my Grandmother looked down her nose at my mother.

“It is true, Maitresse Fabienne! I do not mind if my son looks upon my nakedness. Monsieur Guillaume has seen a pudendum before,” my mother didn’t look at me. She couldn’t. Fabienne held her by the chain around her neck and made her continue her duties, licking my father’s cock.

“You see, Robert? Connasse does not mind if Robert observes her Devoirs Des Femmes! She knows no shame!” Fabienne declared as she pushed my mother back from his dick. “I will finish you by hand, and she can lap it off the floor like a dog!”

“Mother!” Robert protested his mother, reaching for his cock but not very strongly. She jerked his cock up and down roughly. It was very different from the way I played with myself. I wasn’t sure my father even liked it, but he came shortly and spurted cum all over the floor.

My mother obediently bent over and began to lick the cum off the floor.

Nanette giggled.

“Nanette! This is the fate that awaits whores like Connasse. This is as much a lesson for you as it is to Connasse. If not for my guiding hand, she would raise you to be one such as her and consign your fate to the convent or asylum. If you think I am being too harsh with her, then you simply must visit a woman’s asylum and witnesses the measures of restriction and discipline they would introduce to her!”

“Yes, Gramma, I would like that,” Nanette chuckled playfully.

“You will address me as Madame Fabienne or Mamma from now on since your mother is incapable of fulfilling that role,” Fabienne told my little sister.

“Yes, Mamma!” Nanette skipped playfully around the room.

If it hurt my mother to hear her daughter call someone else Mamma, I couldn’t tell from the look on her face. My mother seemed serious about her re-education and focused on lapping up the semen on the dirty wooden floor. The night prior, she had practically dared her mother-in-law to discipline her, but that may have been the wine talking. Something had happened to my mother’s rebellious nature. It may have been a visit to the female asylum to see a future that awaited her if she didn’t comply with Fabienne’s wishes, or it may have been the consistent application of the whip.

“Guillaume, I will not have you cavorting about naked. You are simply too old for that,” My Grandmother noticed I was still aroused and under the table watching my mother. “Is Polyphemus still standing tall?” she asked me.

“Yes, Mamma,” I answered, my Grandmother.

“Don’t call me Mamma. I don’t like it when you say it,” Fabienne told me sourly. “Come out from under the table and let me see it,” she said.

It was the first time she wanted me to present my cock.

“This is hard because your son has carnal thoughts about you,” Fabienne grabbed the shaft of my cock and gave it a squeeze. She pointed it at my mother.

My mother looked up from her duties and shrugged. “Yes, Maitresse Fabienne, many boys would have such thoughts in this situation. What can be done?” she said.

“You will encourage his emissions as you do for Robert,” Fabienne whipped my mother on the back with the rod. She prodded my mother over to me, and for the first time in my life, I felt a wet tongue lick my cock. She flopped her spit across the tip of my dick like a dog would have licked my scraped knee. It felt strange, delightful, and entirely wrong, but it also excited me.

“You are responsible for his reaction. You will do this anytime Guillaume or Robert requires a release! Just as you will for any male house guest,” Fabienne said as she scribbled notes in her book of assignments for my mother.

“Yes, Maitresse Fabienne! He is almost ready to spew! Would you like to finish the job yourself?” my mother predicted I would cum soon. She was right, and a small gob of my cum shot onto her nose. The rest she dodged and let land on the floor.

My Grandmother broke off the end of a day-old baguette and handed it to my mother. “You may wipe your face and the floor with your breakfast! I don’t have all day to watch you clean the floor with your tongue! We have other chores for you,” she grinned at my mother.

I was sent upstairs to dress and wash up. When I returned, the chandelier had been removed from the dinner table, and a chain had been placed through the fixture like a pully system. My mother was suspended by the chain attached to her ankles and wrists above the dinner table. She was completely naked except for the bra harness, and a ruler had been forced up her anus. Her butt cheeks were forced open by the manner in which she hung from the ceiling, and I could clearly see the ruler had been sunk 7 inches into her asshole.

An enormous brass pipe occupied her mouth. My mother’s face was flush red with the embarrassment or simply from the exertion of hanging upside down and swinging over the table. Her pussy was dripping slightly, and spit was forming around her lip.

Fabienne wanted my mother to look like a proper slut. She insisted that Connasse wear garish makeup that made her look more like a slutty clown. Her hair was a mess, even though she wore a small black ribbon in it.

“Connasse needs to hang above the table like an ornament for a few hours. It will help her learn to move quickly when you or I give her a command from now on. It will be nice to finally get some peace and quiet instead of hearing her complain,” she said.

My mother couldn’t speak with the brass tube forced down her throat. She could only gurgle and sputter as she swung slowly.

My Grandmother left her swinging that way for most of the day. When my mother was finally lowered from the chain, she seemed even more willing to obey her and less inclined to complain. It was strange watching her transformation over the next week into Connasse. We no longer referred to her as mother or Madeleine.

My father was expected to beat Connasse once a day. “The rule is...” he stuttered nervously as he approached her in the small room. I remember the first time that my father was sent to beat her. My Grandmother insisted I observed Connasse carrying out what she called her homework. “Well, it isn’t my rule, but I have to beat you like my mother said,” Robert’s tone was apologetic.

My mother was bound with her hands behind her back, and one leg chained up over her heard. Her body was contorted so that her cunt and asshole were exposed and vulnerable. She had been kept naked with a stick up her asshole for most of that evening after dinner. She frequently had things shoved up her ass while she worked around the house. Fabienne said that the discomfort was to remind her of her place and make the task less pleasant because my mother was to take no pleasure in her work.

“Of course, Maitre Robert. If I am not beaten properly, Maitresse Fabienne will see it. She won’t be happy!” My mother accepted it was her fate to be beaten regularly.

My father cropped her all over her body, and Connasse begged him to be more thorough. She knew that Fabienne would inspect her bruises and marks and make her repeat the ordeal if the pain she received was insufficient.

My Grandmother applied two regular beatings throughout the day and frequent canings, whippings, and other painful and humiliating punishments as needed. If my mother so much as farted or sneezed without permission, she would be hung upside down in the window of our apartment for an hour.

Twice a day, my mother licked my cock to completion, and my Grandmother finished me with her hand. I was never quite sure why Fabienne did that herself. At one point, she told me it was to ensure that I would not be grateful to my mother and feel compelled to feel sorry for her. She said that it was a form of my mother’s manipulation to obligate me. Fabienne said I would be given the lash if I so much as snuck her a scrap of food she didn’t earn.

My seed was usually spilled on the floor or over a bowl of dirty water. My mother was expected to lap it up, but otherwise, she lived on day-old-bread, and the cast-offs from our supper plates. She usually crawled on the floor and ate like a dog with her legs exposed to my Grandmother’s cane.

My father insisted on receiving the same treatment in the privacy of his bedroom or the small room after that. I doubted he was concerned about Nannette, and I witnessing such a disgusting and intimate act though.

My mother once whispered to me while she licked my dick “Robert is just jealous that you have a bigger cock!”

“What are you saying to Guillaume?” Fabienne noticed her talking to me.

“I said that Monsieur Guillaume has a fabulous cock, Maitresse Fabienne” My mother lied.

“You would know. You have seen so many cocks! Do you miss cavorting widly with low-life scum and malcontents?” Fabienne asked Connasse as she applied a switch to her breasts.

“Drinking wine, smoking, having sex with whoever I wish? Non, I much prefer this life of contemplative discipline, Maitresse Fabienne,” my mother answered obediently. I could not be certain if that were sarcasm or not. My mother didn’t openly oppose my Grandmother or refuse any of her orders. My mother often embraced the most humiliating tasks with an energetic enthusiasm.

As an example, the weather was nice and warm. Fabienne decided they should spend the day outside in our small lawn.

My mother was chained to a statuary in the garden face down in the nude. Her arms were crossed behind her back and chained to peg spikes in the ground. Her cunt was spread open, and her legs were pulled up over her head and attached to a metal spreader bar.

Fabienne made my mother wear a decorative flower bow in her hair and maintain her whorish makeup despite her naked state.

Fabienne had purchased several objects of discipline over the last few days. Paris was a deviant city, and we had no shortage of antiquated objects of torture for sale.

My Grandmother’s confidence in herself only grew as she took direct control over Connasse. She wore a lovely hat decorated with flowers from the garden and one of my mother’s old low cut dresses.

“Now that we are all cozy in the sun. I think I’ll take advantage of the time to give you a sexual correction,” Fabienne said. She had attached a wicked leather strap to the end of a wooden tawse. It was very effective in punishing my mother, and Fabienne enjoyed applying it directly to Connasses’s pink pussy lips.

“Please, Maitresse Fabienne! Not on my cunt. I might scream out. What will the neighbors think?”

“Don’t you recall when I asked you the same question? What was your answer?” My Grandmother struck her down the tenderest part of my mother’s wet pussy. The sound it made when the leather connected with flesh was “Plouif!”.

“I don’t recall Maitresse Fabienne! I am a forgetful dumb cunt!” my mother frequently repeated the insults that my Grandmother heaped upon her and applied them to herself.

“Yes, you are Connasse. I could be enjoying my day instead of trifling with your miserable fat ass. When I asked you how the neighbors might feel about your posing for an artist, you suggested we invite them over and ask them myself. I think I will do just that. Guillaume run to the houses next door and invite them to come see Connasse while she completes her Devoirs Des Femmes in the garden.