I stood naked in front of the full-length three-way mirror. I considered myself to be in pretty good shape for having had two kids and pushing 40. My tummy was still flat and firm and my breasts, which weren’t terribly large, still looked respectable with a sag that was hardly noticeable. My ass and legs still looked great; they had always looked great and things hadn’t changed. I’ve worked hard to maintain this body, I thought to myself, and it pleased me to see that my efforts were paying off.

I touched my right hand to my throat and began to gently trail my fingers down over my breast. There was an angry red stripe above my nipple, and I shivered slightly as my fingers traversed it. My fingers continued over my nipple and down my abdomen, over additional stripes, and I smiled as I remembered watching David, his heated body glistening with excitement and perspiration, whip my naked skin. The marks ran all the way down to my knees, front and back; he’d been careful not to damage my breasts or the area of my kidneys, but he’d really laid into my butt and all sides of my thighs. There were 20 marks, from his belt below my waist and his thin-tailed flogger that really stings on my upper front. Actually there were more than 20. David had struck the back of my naked body with his wide black leather belt, but in many cases both edges of the belt had bitten into my skin and resulted in two marks, one for each edge.

I was proud of the fact that I had received my beating without any restraints. I’d simply stood at attention with my hands on my head while I was given 40 strokes between the belt and the flogger, 20 front and 20 back. The lack of restraints had been my affirmation of the fact that the beating was consensual, that I was part of it. I can’t say that I received my beating with complete equanimity, though. I’m sure I flinched, twisted, arched, and writhed as the belt bit into me and the flogger stung me. I know that I’d groaned aloud and cried.

All of these things had aroused David tremendously, of course. Halfway through the beating, ten front and ten back, I was given a reprieve. I got to lie on my back on the kitchen table with my knees up while David thoroughly fucked me. He has a wonderful way of drawing it out. He’ll start slow and raise the rhythm until his loins are banging hard against my thighs and then slow the pace and begin again. He has phenomenal self-control.

He likes to make me beg for it, make me scream, “Fuck me! Fuck me! Harder! Please!” or something like that. Who knows what they scream before and during an orgasm?

Finally, I’d bared my teeth, squeezed my eyes shut, curled my toes, said, “Uhhrghhaghh!” and had a wonderful orgasm as David said something every bit as poetic and shot his semen inside me. Shortly after that I was standing again in my former position as he sat at the table with a cup of coffee and read the paper. Every now and then he’d reach over and absently caress my sticky pussy while I pushed my hips against his exploring hand. After about 30 minutes of that he’d smiled up at me and said, “I think it’s time for another round, hon.” I’d seen as he stood up that his cock was growing turgid again. It never ceases to amaze me how David can have two and even sometimes three orgasms within a short period of time.

I received 20 more agonizing strokes with the belt and flogger and I gyrated the same pain dance that I’d done earlier. Then we were ready for round two. It started with me on my knees, a position I’m not unfamiliar with, making love to David’s cock with my mouth and tongue. Then I found myself stretched over the same kitchen table, feet on the floor, chest on the table, and my hands gripping the far edge while trying to relax my sphincter muscles for the forthcoming assault.

David reached around me and had me suck his fingers to slick them up with my saliva, which he then used to lubricate my asshole. He did this several times, and then I felt the head of his cock poking against my anus, first gently and then not so gently. We had done this enough times that he didn’t have too much trouble forcing his way in. He placed one of his hands on my hip and pumped my butt to his rhythm. Then he reached around my hip with his other hand and began doing wonderful things with my pussy. This went on for a while as we grunted and groaned and said nasty things until, for a second time, we simultaneously exploded. As someone once said, “To go together is blessed; to come together is divine,” or something like that.

I turned slightly, and looking in the left mirror I could see my back reflected in the right. The welts were very clear over my ass and thighs, no surprise there. I was expecting my daughter and her boyfriend home from college the next day, and it was apparent that I was going to have to be careful with how much of me they saw for the next week. Capri pants made that part of my life easier, since David almost always stopped at my knees.

I was admiring my well-marked thighs in the mirror and my eyes had traveled up my multi-hued ass when the reflection revealed more than my naked welted skin. Next to my surprised face that was reflected in the mirror was the equally surprised face of Megan, my 19-year-old daughter. She was rooted in the doorway of my bedroom staring at the front of my body, which was facing her, and at my back side, which was reflected in the mirror.

“My God, Mom. What happened to you?”

I grabbed my robe and wrapped it around me with my heart in my throat. “Megan! What are you doing here?” was all I managed to say.

“Eric and I got out early. Mom, what are all those marks? What happened?” she asked again.

“Oh, Megan. I’m so sorry you saw them. It’s nothing, really. Please don’t think about them,” I said as I ushered her into the kitchen. We sat at the table on which I had been so thoroughly fucked, front and rear, less than 24 hours earlier.

“It’s not nothing, Mom! They looked terrible. You looked like you’ve been beaten, whipped!”

“Look, Megan,” I replied. “Try to understand. Yes, I was whipped, and it was because I wanted to be. You’re not a kid anymore, you probably know that there are people out there who like this kind of stuff, and David and I happen to be two of them. It’s consensual. It’s okay. Please don’t worry about it. Please?”

“My God, Mom. This is too wild. Are you sure it’s okay? I like David, you know I do. But if I thought he was hurting you I think I’d kill him. Well, hurting you against your wishes, I mean. God, didn’t it hurt to be whipped like that?”

“Of course it did, honey. This is just something that David and I do. After your dad’s untimely death in that car accident I started dating David, and he’s now my Master. When he was alive, your dad and I were into the same thing.”

“The same thing? You mean he used to beat you?”

“Among other things, yes. It’s all part of sex, but for me, sometimes I feel like I need the pain, or the humiliation, or both, and when we do scenes like that it turns me on.”

“Scenes? What do you mean?”

“That’s what people who do what David and I do call the sessions when we do BDSM stuff.”

“It sounds like you know other people who do scenes like that.”

“I do, Megan, and so did your Dad. When you were growing up and we told you we were going to dinner and a movie, well, we weren’t going to dinner and a movie; we were going to parties where we swapped around for scenes with other people.”

For the first time since this conversation started Megan looked shocked; I was actually surprised that I hadn’t seen that shocked expression on her face before. “Are you telling me you let other men strip you and beat you? Are you telling me that Dad did that to other women?”

“Megan, your Dad and I had an open relationship. Do you know what that means?”

“I think so. I think you’re telling me that you and Dad had sex in those scenes with other people.”

“When people know what they’re doing, those kinds of scenes can be very erotic, and the scenes we did with other people were usually sexual exchanges as well.”

It’s always difficult for children when they find out that their parents weren’t the modest, chaste, asexual people they thought they were while growing up, and it took Megan a while to calm down and come to grips with the things she hadn’t known about her parents and the things her mother was still into in her relationship with David. But a couple of days later the conversation took a turn I was totally unprepared for. Megan and I were alone in the house; Eric had gone out to meet up with some old high-school friends.

We were in the kitchen, having just finished lunch, when she said, “Mom,” in a sort of questioning way. I looked at her, and she continued, somewhat hesitantly, “Can we talk?”

“Of course, dear. Let’s go sit down in the living room.” I led the way, and Megan followed. We sat together on the couch, and I said,”What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated, then blurted out, “I’ve been thinking about what I saw the other day, and about you and David...”

“Oh, sweetheart, are you still upset about that”?

“No, Mom, that’s not it at all.”

When she didn’t say anything further, I asked softly, “Then what is it, honey?”

“I really love Eric, Mom, I really do. He’s so great in so many ways. It’s just that...”

Again she hesitated, and again I asked, “So what’s the problem, honey?”

“He’s just so gentle with me,” she said, almost whispering. “When we make love, it’s just so tender and caring, and sometimes I just wish he would be more assertive, not treat me as a fragile doll. I don’t mean like what David does to you,” she rushed out, “but sometimes I wish he was a bit rougher with me. I wasn’t a virgin when we met, I’d had some other experiences, and sometimes I don’t want to make love, I just want to fuck.”

She looked at me almost defiantly, as though to suggest she wasn’t ashamed of her words. I nodded my head, knowing exactly how she felt. “I completely understand, Megan. Tell me a little more about how you want things to go sometimes.”

“Eric’s always all about me,” she said. “He’s always so concerned that I’m enjoying what we’re doing. I wish he would sometime just want it to be about him, about his pleasure.

“Have you tried talking with him, encouraging him to be more aggressive?” I asked.

She shook her head ruefully. “Yes, Mom, I have. I’ve told him I want him to grab me, throw me on the bed, and just take me, to pinch my nipples instead of just teasing them, to swat my butt instead of just lightly caressing it. But he just keeps saying he’s afraid of hurting me, afraid of changing how I feel about him.”

“Do you have any idea what his experiences were before the two of you started dating? Maybe he had some bad experiences with being assertive in the bedroom and that’s made him extra-cautious with you.”

“I think he was pretty inexperienced,” Megan said. “So I doubt that was a factor. I think it’s more about how he was brought up, his attitudes toward women in general. I’ve held back telling him about my past experiences, because I didn’t want to give him any bad impressions of me. But maybe that was a mistake.”

“No, I don’t think it was,” I told Megan. “If he hasn’t probed, I think it’s better that you didn’t reveal those things, at least up to now. But at this point you have a problem that may mean you need to take a different approach with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Based on what you’ve said, I get the impression that someone being a bit rougher with you wouldn’t turn you off.”

“Oh, no, quite the opposite,” Megan told me. “I don’t want anything as extreme as what you like, at least I don’t think I do, but what I’ve experienced in the past really turned me on.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, Megan, how long have you been having these experiences?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter any more, my not having told you until now. But I’ve been having sex since I was 15, Mom. You got me on the pill when I was having early problems with my periods, so I wasn’t going to get pregnant.”

I must have had a shocked expression on my face, because Megan laughed and pointed at me. “You really didn’t know, did you?” she teased.

“No, I didn’t know,” I replied. “I suspected a few times, when you came home with that just-fucked look about you, but I didn’t know for sure.”

“Well, now you know,” she said. “So what different approach are you thinking about?”

I think there are three different but related issues here,” I said. “First, there’s the issue of Eric not knowing, or not believing, that rough treatment would turn you on instead of off. Second, there’s the related issue of him being concerned about hurting you and therefore not being willing to try rougher things with you. Third, there’s the question of just how much roughness, as you put it, you want.”

“Okay, I agree those are the issues. How do you think I should solve them?”

“Well, the first thing is you have to be a bit more forceful about what you want. He needs to understand that you’re not completely satisfied with the sex you’ve been having with him, and if he wants the relationship to continue and to grow he has to step up and sometimes give you more of what you want.”

“I can do that; I really love him but I also have this craving. I must have gotten the slutty gene from you, Mom, because I also fantasize about Eric and me doing other people.”

“That’s really interesting,” I said. “Do you think about it in a rough-sex context, or just swapping partners for vanilla sex?”

“Oh, it’s definitely in a rougher context. But can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, Megan.”

“How did it feel when you had that heavy scene with David? I know it must have been painful, but what were you thinking at the time?”

“I’m not sure I was really thinking,” I told her. “Yes, it was painful, but ... ummm ... at some point the endorphins kick in and the pain actually becomes pleasurable. At that point I’m not really thinking, I’m just reacting, both to the sensations and what David tells me to do.”

Megan thought about that for a few seconds, then said, “I wish I could have that kind of experience, so I’d know whether I would enjoy it like you do.”

“I’m concerned that you may not be ready for a scene like that, Megan, especially the way David does it.”

“What do you mean?” she asked again.

“I mean that in addition to my scenes being very sexual the dynamic has an overtone of humiliation.”

Megan thought that over, then said, “Could you clarify that? I’m not sure I know what you mean?

“I’m a little embarrassed about this,” I replied.

“Come on, Mom, you said we could talk about anything and you’ve got me curious.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to be upset with me.”

“That’s an easy promise, Mom. Now give.”

“You have to understand, Megan, that when David and I are doing a scene, when I get into sub-space, all I want to do is please him. I have certain limits, and David respects them, but within those limits I will do whatever he tells me to do and accept whatever he chooses to do to me and with me. Do you understand that?”

“I think so, Mom. Will you tell me what your limits are?”

“Yes, I will, but let’s finish this subject first.”

“Sure, sorry I interrupted.”

“No apology necessary, sweetheart. When we’re in a scene, David calls me all kinds of demeaning names, says I didn’t perform well enough, criticizes my body parts, things like that. But you have to understand that when I’m in that head-space those things both turn me on and motivate me to try harder to please him.”

“I think I understand, Mom. Is that all he does?”

“No, there are other things. For one, I have to swallow everything that comes out of his cock.”

“That I understand for sure, Mom; I’ve been swallowing cum for years when I give blow jobs. Guys like that I do it and I like the taste; I’m a bit of a cum-slut.

“You don’t understand, Megan. Cum isn’t the only thing that comes out of a guy’s cock.”

“Wait a minute. Are you saying you swallow his pee?”

“Yes, Megan, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Megan shook her head. “Okay, I can see how that would be humiliating. Doesn’t it taste awful? Isn’t it unsafe?”

“To answer the second question first, if there’s no infection pee is sterile when it comes out. As for the taste, it was terrible the first few times, but after a while I got used to it and now it doesn’t really bother me. It’s not only just part of what David wants from me; it also turns me on when he treats me that way. I hope you don’t think poorly of me because of that.”

Megan’s response was immediate. “No, Mom, I don’t. She hesitated, then said softly, almost in a whisper, “Actually, just thinking about those things has me all wet.” Another hesitation, then, “Mom ... would you talk with David? Maybe he could ... you know, maybe ... do a scene with me...”

I was completely taken aback by that request. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I suppose I could ask David to go easy on you–”

“No!” she interrupted. “I want a real experience, so I’ll know whether I can take it, whether I’ll enjoy it. I can have safewords, right?”

“Yes, of course. So,” I teased, “you want your Mom to share her boyfriend with you.”

That caused Megan to blush. “Well ... if you want to put it that way ... I guess you could say so.”

“Well, in that case,” I pushed the tease, “are you going to share your boyfriend with me?”

I’m willing to do that if Eric is willing, but based on what you’ve said I think you’d probably be disappointed.”

““If you’re willing to do that, you must have inherited that gene also,” I kidded her. “You may be right. But maybe he’ll do better if he’s with someone he’s not emotionally connected to.”

“Maybe so, Mom, and I hope you’re right. But he’ll still know you’re my Mom.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see what happens. Let’s see what the men have to say. I’ll ask David, and you have a talk, and maybe more, with Eric.”

“It’s a deal. Now please tell me about your limits.”

“My limits are really pretty simple, sweetheart. I won’t do scat play–”

“Sorry, what’s that?”

“It means I won’t play with shit.”

Megan was silent for a few seconds, digesting, pardon the pun, my explanation. “Oh,” she said quietly. Then, “What else won’t you do?”

“I won’t do breath play, and certainly not a snuff scene.”

“You mean like choking, stuff like that?”

“Yes, and not killing me, that’s what I mean.”

“Anything else, Mom?”

“No, aside from him not doing anything that would put me in the hospital that’s pretty much it.”

“Mom, that leaves an awful lot of things on the table. What if he told you to do something with an animal, or teach his 15-year-old nephew about sex?”

“Megan, I know this is hard for you to understand, but if David ordered me to do those things I would do them because they would please him. That’s the nature of our relationship; I live to please him.”

“Wow. That’s a lot to take in. I need to think about this.”

“Yes, you do,” I told her. “You have to decide how far into the scene you want to go, with Eric or anyone else, and you’d better have a serious talk with him.”

Things progressed fairly rapidly. I asked David if he was willing to introduce Megan and Eric to BDSM, and he said he would. He asked how deep Megan wanted to go, and I told him I didn’t know and neither did she. He nodded and then beat the crap out of me; since I had several booming orgasms while he was doing so I thoroughly enjoyed the session.

The next thing that happened was a four-way conversation with Megan, Eric, David, and me. Both Megan and Eric looked nervous as we all sat down around my kitchen table. After introductions were made I initiated the discussion.

“Megan,” I began, “why don’t you start by telling us where you and Eric stand at this point.”

Megan glanced at Eric, then said, “I think Eric and I are on the same page. He told me he was serious about me and our relationship. I told him I felt the same way but that I also had desires for where I wanted our relationship to go.” She looked at him again, and he nodded, so she continued, “He’s willing to learn to overcome his fears and how to give me what I want, and he admitted that he thinks he’ll enjoy it once he gets past those fears.”

“That’s very encouraging,” David told her. “I assume from what you said that Eric has some fantasies he hasn’t shared with you.” He turned to Eric.”Am I right, young man?”

“Eric nodded again. “Yes, Sir, you are.”

“Well, let’s find out what the two of you want to find out about. I want you to fill out these checklists,” he handed a set of stapled pages to each of them, “individually and without discussing your answers with each other. Let Janice,” he gestured in my direction, “know when you’re done and we’ll have another meeting.”

“Yes, Sir,” they chorused, and they got up and left the room.

It took a couple of days for the youngsters to fill in their checklists, but Megan eventually told me they were ready for another meeting. So I called David, he came over to my house, and we reconvened around my kitchen table. David took their checklists and started to examine them while I engaged the two young people in conversation.

“So tell me, what were your thoughts while you were completing your checklists?”

“Holy crap,” Eric replied. “I was amazed at the questions; I didn’t have a clue what some of the items even meant.”

“Me too,” Megan chimed in. “My list of unknowns was shorter than Eric’s, we talked that much about the checklists even though we didn’t discuss our responses to individual things on them.”

At that point David looked up and caught my eye, so I deferred to him. He asked questions, first of Megan and then of Eric, about some of their checklist answers. Each time Megan responded she was emphatic about wanting both herself and Eric to experiment, not only together but with other people to gain varied experiences. After hearing her say that several times, David turned to Eric.

“What do you think about that?” he asked. “Do you really want to experiment? How do you feel about Megan experimenting with other people? Are you interested in experimenting with someone other than Megan? These are serious and important questions.”

Eric didn’t hesitate. “I’m very curious about a lot of things; some of the items on the checklist that I knew what they meant were intriguing. But I’ll be honest; after going through that list I’m worried that I have more dark fantasies, and therefore desires, than Megan does, and I’m concerned about going too far with some things. I understand why Megan thinks we could learn from other people, and I’m okay with that; I actually think, as long as it wouldn’t damage our relationship, that seeing her with someone else would be a turn-on for me.”

He turned to Megan, and she spoke to him gently but firmly. “I really love you, Eric, and I wouldn’t want to harm our relationship in any way. But I want to explore BDSM, and I think we can experiment and learn from people who have knowledge and experience rather than just fumbling along by ourselves.”

“If you’re sure that each of us having other sex partners is okay with you, then I’m for it.”

“I’m as sure as I can be without actually having it happen. I hope I won’t be jealous, but I can’t know for sure until we let it happen and see how each of us reacts.”

“I guess that’s true for me as well,” Eric told her. “So let’s start down the road and see where it leads.”

“Okay,” David said. “You two are young, and you haven’t had a lot of sexual experience, so we should find out whether you’re really interested in exploring BDSM as much as you say you are. Megan, you say you think you have the submissive gene, as you put it, much like your Mom does. So I think we should test that. What do you say?”

“I say yes. I want to know whether I will enjoy the kind of scene that Mom does.”

“What about you, Eric? You said you thought you might have the makings of a dominant but you were concerned about carrying out some of your fantasies in real life. Are you willing to test your own reactions to actually performing some of those fantasies?”

“I think so, Sir, but I honestly don’t feel that I know how to do that safely.”

“That’s a great answer, Eric. I think you’re showing me a lot of maturity when you express that concern. So I have what I think is a plan that will answer both your and Megan’s questions about yourselves and your potential interest in BDSM.”

“Thank you, Sir. What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to give Megan the kind of scene she thinks she needs to find out whether she wants to really get into her submissive side.” Megan nodded her willingness and readiness, and David continued, “And you’re going to watch.”

Eric looked surprised, and David told him, “You have to find out two things, Eric. One, you have to see that this is what Megan wants, assuming she does enjoy it. The second is whether you can handle watching her have sex with someone else.”

Eric looked at Megan for a long moment, then turned to face David. “I understand, Sir, and I agree that your scene with Megan will be important for both of us.”

“I’m glad you see it that way. New we come to the second part of my plan. After my scene with Megan, I’m going to coach you through unleashing a couple of your fantasies on Janice.”

Eric looked shocked, and I’m sure my expression showed some surprise as well. But what David was proposing made perfect sense. Eric needed a way to find out that his fantasies could be brought to life without the inhibitions of his emotional bond with Megan and also to see that his fantasies, if performed safely, wouldn’t do any lasting harm to his submissive.

“Are you okay with that plan, Eric?” David asked.

“I’m not sure,” Eric answered. “I think I understand why I should try out some of my fantasies with someone other than Megan, but with her Mom ... that’s really wild, it just sounds crazy.”

Megan jumped in. “Come on, hon, I told you about what I saw and the conversation I had with her. So one thing you know is that my Mom can probably take whatever you fantasize about.”

Eric turned to me. “Are you okay with this idea?”

I looked to David, and he nodded. “If David directed me to submit to you I would do it regardless of my feelings. But Megan is my daughter, so I would be delighted to help you figure out if this is something you want to pursue with her.”

“Today is Tuesday,” David said, “so no sex until we meet again on Saturday afternoon. I want you both horny when we do the two scenes.” He turned to me. “That means no orgasms between now and Saturday for you also,” he directed.

“Yes, Sir,” I acknowledged sadly. I knew what state I’d be in by Saturday; it had been a long time since I’d gone four days without coming.

David arrived at my house at 11 o’clock wearing a polo, jeans, and ankle boots, all black. After hugging and kissing me he went down to my basement. Over the years my late husband and then David had made unobtrusive changes that enabled the space to become a decent dungeon when desired. These changes included strategically-placed plant hooks that could serve other purposes better suited to BDSM play and a device that was a short version, both in length and height, of the balance-beam apparatus used in female gymnastics. I watched as David rigged the pulleys and the trapeze-like bar with attached wrist cuffs that would serve to restrain a bottom at a comfortable height in the middle of the room. Then he took the beam components from a closet, assembled the apparatus, and placed it near one wall. Finally, he opened another closet door that had a variety of BDSM toys hanging on hooks on its normally-hidden back side.

We went back upstairs and I prepared a light lunch. After we ate, David sent me to my bedroom to dress for the afternoon’s activities, and I returned to the living room wearing a short robe belted at the waist and five-inch stiletto pumps. Soon thereafter Megan and Eric arrived; Eric was dressed much as David was but not in black and with sneakers rather than boots. Megan was wearing a sports bra, running shorts, and flat sandals. After greetings we all trooped down to the basement and David began the scene with Megan; Eric and I stood to one side and watched. David had told me to answer any questions Eric had and to remind him as necessary that this was all consensual.