Chapter 19: The Violent Femdoms

The harshest blow Steve gave me happened when he was not even in the room. He had been setting up what happened from the start it came to fruition on this day. I guess I should have known the mental damage Steve’s treatment could cause someone. I was so caught up in my horrific ordeal I forgot what my mother had been through even though I masturbated at it on a nightly basis. I even basically had my mother gangbanged. The last week before school ended was perhaps when it hit me the hardest, when I realized just how depraved my mother’s sex drive had gotten. She was so enthralled in orgasms I thought it did not even phase her what I did. She was a horny slut looking for the next person to fuck her Steve’s treatment, my treatment, Pamela’s treatment, were just another type of playtime for her, and she was the platter at a all you can fuck buffet and she could not get enough takers. As bad as I felt what I did to her. My mother’s reaction seemed happy for what I did, or so I thought until our volatile power dynamic changed.

So I was not surprised when Steve announced the next morning after I had her gangbanged that I was to my mother’s bitch again, and Mrs. Simmons bitch. I just laid on my back suddenly not wanting to get up anymore. I must have drifted back alseep because the next thing I know I feel a huge shock around my neck!

“Holy fucking shit!” I screamed as I grabbed for my neck. My mother had gotten a shock collar and placed around my neck while I was sleeping. She let out an evil cackle. “Oh my that went much better than I had hoped!” She got an evil grin on her face and cooed, “I was going to make you put it on yourself but this was much more fun!”. I can understand why. I had been getting absolutely brutal when I had control over her and she must have been planning what to do when she got back into control.

“Like that? You ungrateful little shit!” My mother snickered at me in disgust. She then hit something because the damn collar came to life again.

“Damnit mom stop!” I tried to order her to stop. She responded with some very heavy slaps to my face.

<Slap> <Slap><Slap> <Slap><Slap><Slap>

“Don’t ever give me orders again wimp! I am never submitting to you again! You little fucker! Got it?” My mother screamed slapping my face hard again, I had never seen her so mad but I was convinced if someone put a knife in her hands she would have totally stabbed my ass.

“Yes mom, sorry mom. I won’t do it again, I promise.” I whimpered as I looked into her eyes. She smiled at me evilly before attaching a leash to the collar.

“Come along my little puppy! We are going for a walk.” My mother said with an evil grin as she tugged on the leash.

I started to follow when she stopped in her tracks and snapped her fingers to the floor. I sighed and started to get down on all fours but I must have been too slow because the next thing I felt was electricity shooting through my electrified collar.

“Fuck!” I yelled as I got down on all fours.

“What? Got anything to say” My mom said tapping her high heels in front of me.

“No.” I cried out in a sad voice.

“No what you little bitch” She said hitting it again.

“Oh Fuck! No Mistress!” I stammered out barely able to get my bearings.

Steve knew what he was doing when he saw me losing control of inhibitions when I topped my mother. She was about to return the favor all on her own without Steve’s prodding and it nearly ended everything right then and there. He set it up so we would destroy each other. She nearly did that day. No one would even suspect that he was the one that gaves order to deliver the final blow on each other.

As soon as I got downstairs my “girlfriend” and nasty bitch in charge was sitting reading her phone she bounced her leg which were clad in tight leather leggings. She snapped her fingers and to my surprise my mother dropped down on all fours immediately as well her face turning deadly serious. The handle to my leash was suddenly in her mouth which she was now holding like a dog. She crawled to Pamela and my girlfriend took the leash then my mother rushed forward and suckled the arch of Pamela’s foot and even moaned, either as an act as if she trained or she was just so lost in lust now that any action with even a modicum of sensuality would get her going. I made my wayto Pamela’s foot shortly after. I immediately felt a shock from the collar and I cried out in pain.

“From now if anyone beats you to my feet, or anywhere I bade you before you do, you will face punishment. I am through coddling you. I do not hear a thank you for teaching you slut!” Pamela barked at me angrily.

“Thank you for teaching me, Mistress,” I simpered, my jaw so tight it clicked off the word in a hiss.

Pamela condescended a low, cruel smile. “Better. But call me Goddess from now on. Now, are you going to grovel for forgiveness? Or do I have to shock the rest of the IQ out of that empty skull?” She never raised her voice. She had discovered early on that a sneer, a measured pinch, the unceremonious flicking of hot coffee onto bare feet, these gestures radiated further than a shout.

I let my tongue roll over the words. “Please forgive me, Goddess. I will do what you tell me.”

The world evaporated into a jangle of noise as my mother, encouraged by her own humiliation, whispered at my side, “Slut, you must enunciate. She can’t reward you if she can’t understand your whimpering.” For a moment, she resembled my real mother, the one who’d threatened to call the police if I didn’t pass math and wore her anxiety like a suit of brambles. This flash of motherly disappointment sheared cleanly away as Pamela gently pressed her heel into my mother’s cheek, pinning her to the floor.

“Two sluts, one leash,” she mused. “I think that’s a fair price for making me wait.” She uncoiled a second collar from her purse, one I’d never seen before ... studs around the leather, the padlock shiny and cold as a chrome tear. She buckled it to my mother’s neck, cinching it tight enough to force a gasp. “Maybe now you’ll race to be my favorite.” Pamela let the silence bloom, one elegant index finger teasing the tiny silver key resting between her thumbnail and the table. My stomach torqued with nausea or anticipation ... I still wasn’t sure which.

My mother and I were leashed together for the remainder of the day. The humiliations escalated like a game, the bar set higher with each passing hour. Pamela spent her morning on video calls with Steve, idly pawing our heads when one of us tried to leave her side. She insisted we stay within two feet of her feet at all times, which proved awkward when she needed the bathroom and my mother and I shuffled down the hallway after her on all fours, our leashes tangling behind us like the tails of whipped dogs.

Two Hours Later...

Pamela had returned early with an evil grin on his face. “Oh, don’t worry bitch-boy, Daddy is taking care of your principal and her whore-daughter tonight. You two bitches are all mine for the night, well mine and whomever else who might bring surprise us tonight.” She bragged eyeing my mother who each exchanged glances that indicated that my mother knew this “whomever” else was. I saw my mother even wince slightly.

I was on my knees in front of my mother. Pamela enjoyed dominion over us both right now. My mother was having me kiss her feet while she had the phone in her hand. What came next nearly ended everything right there. I thought it did, in all honestly this should have been the sad end to this story. Thinking back it is truly a miracle I did not give up.

“You know what to do next don’t you whore.” She barked grabbing my mothers hair. I was too busy kissing and licking her feet to be able to look up I did not want to get shocked again.

“Yes Goddess Pamela” My mother moaned out submissively. The power dynamic was always at play in my house now, it seemed to always end up with me on the bottom. Even when I rose up the ranks it was just to make me get thrown down harder.

“Do it! Remember bitchboy had you gangbanged at your own awards event!” Pamela reminded my mother. My mother thrusted her foot closer. “You do not say a word.” She uttered to me and got the most serious deadly expression on her face.

She picked the phone and started dialing a number. I tried to pay attention but was just coasting in my duties when I heard her speak and my heart almost stopped.

“Hello Coach Myers. Yes this is Frankin’s mother. We appreciate the scholarship offer but Franklin has decided he needs a year to decide what he really wants to do.”

I could not hear the other side but it sounded like Coach Myer was not too happy with the news.

“Well I understand, but we have to respect his wishes. No ... no he does not want to speak with any coaches, he said football is just not for him. I believe he said he wanted to try, what did he call it, Peyote?” She said trying to purposefully sound like the drug name was foreign to her. My mother snapped her fingers hard in my direction pointing to her foot.

I felt like I was being stabbed in the heart. My mother was ruining my chances of going to college on a scholarship. That was my ticket away from here. I tried to see if I could protest only to see that she would not have any of it. The look in her eyes was one of pure hatred. I might have went too far the night before.

“Good glad you understand. I know, youth, I will tell him, but it looks like the earliest he would be interested in doing anything would be next year. Uh uh thank you” My mom had the most evil grin on her face as I continued to kiss her ankle.

“That’s for making your own mother perform a gangbang! You fucker! Like I said you never get to top me again! Lord, this is making me so horny! Keep going up the leg, I expect licks and suckles you little shit, taste every inch on the way up. If you are lucky I will not have Daddy cut your balls off. But you are going to be our bitch full time from now on.”

“And I expect your tongue in my pussy whore” Pamela interjected. My mother whimpered back submissively, “Yes Goddess Pamela” Pamela climbed onto top of the couch and stuck her pussy in my mother’’s face. It did take long for my mother to start licking her pussy with abandoned. Pamela barked out and order to me. “Now your tongue in your mother’s pussy fucking cuck. Lick you own mother’s pussy while I use her face.”

My mind, already disassociated and swimming from the repeated electrical shocks, was forced to compartmentalize everything happening as Pamela’s taunt and my mother’s moan combined like a forked, tongue in my ear. I did as I was told, as if there was ever a choice, crawling up between my mother’s spread thighs and burying my face in her pussy. She was already leaking, slick and glossy, pushing her hips up to my mouth at Pamela’s command. Above me, Pamela rode my mother’s mouth, fucking herself shamelessly on my mom’s tongue, eyes locked on mine with a predatory gleam that mocked any hope of solidarity or affection I’d once held for her.

“Fucking pathetic, huh?” Pamela laughed, grinding her hips harder into my mother’s face. “This all American family. And now look at you both! That’s it. Lap it all up, Franklin. Show us what a college dropout can really do.”

Every humiliation was deliberate, crafted for a cumulative effect. My mother, my tormentor and my victim, clutched at Pamela’s hips, tonguefucking her as if her very breath was oxygen starved from between her daughter’s thighs. We were linked in a chain of retribution so convoluted that even as I hated them both for what I had become, I could not remove myself from the circuit. My only act of protest, if it could be called that, was to close my eyes and try to lose myself in the taste of sex and sweat, the feeling of her trimmed hair roughing my lips, and the strange comfort in the sound of her moaning my name like she needed me to keep living.

When Pamela came it was volcanic: a shriek barely muffled by my mother’s mouth, a ripple through her whole body. She seized the back of my mother’s head with both hands and ground her hips down with such force I thought she might snap my mother’s neck. My mother accepted it, gasping and lapping with a desperate hunger, and her own thighs clamped around my head until I could barely breathe. Only when Pamela pulled off, shivering and laughing, did my mother let herself come, a long, keening sound that was less pleasure and more a final exorcism. She squeezed my head and shuddered and collapsed, face down on the carpet, leaving me gasping at her knees, unable to stand or flee.

Pamela’s phone vibrated against the coffee table, breaking the silence. She snatched it up with glee, then paused, blinking. My mother rolled over, a glazed and slack smile on her face, and watched Pamela with the adoration of a kicked, for, love dog.

“You have a message,” Pamela announced, dramatic as always, and tossed the phone at me. “From Coach Myers. Or maybe from your new best friend.”

I took the phone with trembling hands. It was a voicemail. I played it, holding the phone up for all three of us to hear.

“Franklin. I don’t know what’s going on, son. Maybe you’re under a lot of stress. I get it. But you’ve got real talent, and a future, and it’d be a goddamn shame to waste it on ... on ... well on this.” Coach Myers sounded defeated and I felt like a failure.

“Now go on your back cuck. I want to ride your face just like I did your mother’s and as for you my filthy whore, ride your son’s cock like the depraved cumdump you are!” Pamela uttered pushing on my back. When she took control of me now it was with contempt or sadism I could not tell which. Pamela was oozing wet from either just cumming or the fact she just ruined my life. I almost came on the spot when my mother slid atop my cock. She was riding me hard. I moaned into Pamela’s pussy, the gorgeous blonde’s thighs clamping around my face as she used me as her pleasure toy.

I gripped my mother’s hips, digging in as she rocked with a mechanical, angry violence that left bruises on us both. A part of me wanted to stop her ... beg her to ... another part was addicted to the violation. My head spun: the taste of Pamela’s glistening folds, her musky chemical tang, was the only thing anchoring my reality. Above me she was twisted in pleasure, the rare moment when she surrendered to it, head tipped back and hair cascading down her arching shoulders. Sometimes she would look down at me, hold my gaze beneath her, and grin like she’d just won everything she’d ever wanted.

“You see, Franklin,” she drawled as if reading my mind, “this is what you’re really good for. Nobody’s putting you on a poster for being a fucking quarterback. But god, the stories people could tell about you. Fucking your mother, jacking off to her being the cumdump of Deacon High School, to passing her around at her own award ceremony she gave, prodding them along to gangbang your mother, needless to say the hours of footage you two plowing each other. Well they would remember that forever.”