Chapter 13

I could imagine Doug’s laughing, sadistic face grinning as he scrawled “SLUT” on my mother with a permanent marker. He had to KNOW that, eventually, she’d have to emerge from the garage. He had to know that we would see that.

I wondered what he thought our reaction might be if we saw SLUT emblazoned on her head? I wondered if he had ever considered it. He was such an asshole. My mom smiled at me when I did it.

Her pussy was dribbling down her thighs – fresh gooey cream and she made no attempt to hide it.

I wasn’t sure what my mother’s motivation was for agreeing to the new rules or allowing me to doodle and trace naughty words on her head. I assumed perhaps she loved to cum, and she must have had an extremely good one when she was getting roughed up. I tried not to overanalyze it. This was fun – and that was what mattered.

As long as she allowed my brothers and I to administrate that fun, then she was safe, and so were we.

“Your magic man who was going to give us five bedrooms and a swimming pool wrote this on you because even he thought you were a slut!”

“Yes,” my mom was almost in tears as she whimpered. The pain from the mouse traps was crushing her boobs.

“There would be no hiding the word “SLUT” from us. You let him write it on you. You didn’t tell him to stop?”

“No ... no, I guess not, I don’t mind that you see it on my head, I kind of am, I guess” my mom’s teeth were chattering like she was cold.

“Doug must have planned to make you walk out of that garage so he could parade you around to us. Did he think we’d be amused? Didn’t you realize then he wanted to humiliate you in front of us?”

“Yeah, but you know I am a slut,” my mom reminded me. The pain that aroused her also made her wince and quiver. Her entire body shook a little as she endured the metal traps on her tits.

“The version of me that you made me pretend for his benefit didn’t know that. How could you trust him to continue poking you,” I jabbed my fingers into her ribs hard? “Slapping you,” I slapped her hard across the face. “Fingering your pussy! You didn’t make him stop at your stinky little piss hole!” I pinched her clit and pulled on a clump of her remaining pubic hair.

Misty was either too far caught up in the wave of pain and ecstasy to understand, or she simply didn’t see where I was going. “He was a bad man, with bad intent. Were you going to come out of the garage with him for dinner and make us pretend we didn’t see what was written on your head?”

“I don’t know, Sir, I wasn’t thinking!!!”

Trent and James lashed her ass and legs while I got in her face.

“Now, you want permission to see other men like that?”

“No, not like that!”

I slapped her across the face again. I could tell she didn’t like it. She endured it, though, and looked at me bitterly like I was betraying her.

“How would you know? Every guy you pick either wants to diddle my sister, treat you like shit, or run off like my fucking Dad. You knowingly picked my dad’s scummy friend as a fuck buddy?”

“I fucked up!”

I was running out of places on her body to hurt her. I smacked her tits and yanked her hair. “If we are going to let you fuck a guy, we are going to interview him first!”

“Yes, sir!!” mom brightened. I liked it when she called me Sir. I assumed Doug had made her do that as well, and perhaps now it felt natural.

“I SHOULD whore you out! You love cock, and we can use the money!”

“Yes, yes! I am a whore!”

“Whose WHORE are you?”

“Yours, Sir!”

“Ours! Trent, James too!”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I need to cum sir, can I cum?” my mom pleaded. I slapped her wet pussy and told her not to even think about it.

“You are a dirty whore, a naughty slut! You are OUR whore, But we can’t even put a finger in your dirty asshole?”

“No, please don’t!!!” my mom pleaded. She was conflicted. The look of anguish and humiliation on her face was tempered with desperation to have an orgasm. I wasn’t going to allow her to have one. It seemed my mother NEEDED to hear she had permission. Things were getting intense as her need grew, her pussy began almost salivating.

“I can tell you to fuck yourself?”

“Yes! Oh, let me, please! I am so horny, Michael!”

“Not yet, slut! You have a long time before we’ll let you cum, and you’ll beg to do it in front of us!”

“Yes!!!”

“Let me talk down to Mom,” James was anxious to trade off with me. I was so horny that my dick was about to burst anyway. I tagged out and let James run the show. I realized that I was hogging most of it.

I took more of a supporting role, focusing on applying the riding crop in strategic ways to parts of her body. I slashed it down on the back of her knees, under her tits, her inner thighs, searching for the most reactive parts of her body. I admired how striking her could produce goosebumps. They looked like tiny ant bites raising up on her skin like little tents. The tiny blonde hairs on her skin were like wispy little trees standing on end after she had recently been beaten.

My brother tried to imitate the things I had asked her. He was finding it hard to think of questions and words to say to get a frightened, gasping reaction from my mother. I thought it best that he practice. He called her some colorful names. “Clucking Chicken Head” was the funniest one of them all.

I took the opportunity to explore my mother’s body. I had seen her naked all week. However, I hadn’t really taken the time to look at every little wrinkle and catalog every crevice.

Her pussy was fascinating. There were folds upon folds, and it was dripping and soaked like a sponge. One of her labia had become unpinned, and the other was barely stuck to her leg while she shivered and reacted to the ministrations we applied to her body.

I took a deep breath when I examined her pussy. The smell wasn’t bad at all. It was musky and heavy and obviously “pussy odor” but in a raunchy sort of way that made me want to eat her pussy. This may sound strange, but I detected the distinct odor of mesquite-smoked turkey and parmesan cheese. I doubted she had rubbed that on her snatch – it was just a natural sort of scent.

I hadn’t admitted to myself that I wanted to fuck my mom. It was increasingly impossible to not let those thoughts surface.

I imagined the taste of her warm, wet pussy. Her clit reminded me of an Italian sandwich full of folds of lunch meat surrounded by two meaty pieces of ‘bread’ in the form of her wrinkled outer labia.

Her pussy juices dripped on my fingers, and I was tempted to taste them. Trent and James were hyper-focused on teasing Misty’s body. Hope was watching, though. She would never have let me live it down if she caught me licking or sniffing my fingers beneath Misty’s trembling pussy.

I was squatting down and could see the taint between asshole and pussy. I touched it, tapped it, dug my fingernail into it. Misty was busy reacting to my brother’s questions, but I felt her body react to my touch. I reached up and grabbed one dark pubic hair with my fingers and plucked it out.

“Ayyyy!!! Oh!!!” she cried out. I plucked them out one at a time while I listened to James berate her pretty much as I had.

I took my time over the next thirty minutes and let my brother run the show. He liked to ask her the same question several times in slightly different ways

“Do you love cock?”

“Yes, Sir”

“Is cock the best?”

“Yes, Sir! I love cock, please. Oh god, I’ve got to cum, Michael. Now!!”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with it. I found that I enjoyed the interaction between me and my mother almost as much as I did, tying her up and beating her. It seemed forbidding her to orgasm was driving her to an intense sexual arousal. I assumed she could have just came or that she might actually be having an orgasm, but Misty seemed desperate to get permission. I found a purpose in understanding her a little better but also establishing how our relationship truly was now.

If this was “roleplay,” it didn’t feel it was fantasy or fake. It felt like we owned her, and she was ours to do with as we pleased (within the limits of the agreement). It felt authentic and genuine. At least, it did in that moment in the kitchen.

When it was Trent’s turn to run the show, his questions were usually about what he could do with her. We moved her into the kitchen; I adjusted her strap so that she was tied to a chair with her ass up and her head facing down to the floor.

Trent’s was whapping my mother between her ass cheeks with the crop. He didn’t make any pretense about aiming for her ass cheeks. He was intentionally targeting the hole.

“You mind if I hit you right on your big dirty asshole with a riding crop?”

“No, sir!”

“You like it!”

“Yes, Sir!”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, Sir!”

After a few rounds of that, he’d switch to another form of humiliating torture and ask the same question. He brought out some ice cubes from the freezer and rubbed it on her asshole. Misty spasmed and shivered.

“You mind if I rub ice on your stinky poop maker?”

“No, sir!”

“You like it!”

“No!”

“Why do you let me do it?”

“I am tied up!”

“If you weren’t tied up, would you let me do it?”

“Yes, if you asked. I’d let you,” she shivered and cooed a little. James and I were also yanking her tits and teasing her body. Her pussy lips were hanging free, and the thumbtacks had fallen out, but the ones in her nipples were still sticking out like piercings.

“It’s the weekend. I don’t have to ask!”

“No, I am yours to play with!! But...”

“But what, slut?” he slammed the ice cube down hard on her wet, slippery sphincter.

“It’s making me numb! Can you please stop?”

Trent reached under her head and stuffed the melting ice cube into her mouth. She gagged a little unexpectedly and sucked on it.

That inspired Trent to see what else he could get away with rubbing on her asshole and then sticking in her mouth. He used a stalk of celery, and rubbed it between her ass crack, and fed her some, and then a pickle. He let the pickle juice drip on her asshole and pushed it into the tightened circle of the hole.

“Uh uh, no Trent! Please!”

Trent was satisfied to make her suck the pickle like a dick. He found some mayonnaise in the fridge. He was fascinated by spreading it between her ass crack. It definitely looked like she was sucking a green dick while down and ass up, glistening with shiny cum down her crack.

James and Trent were giggling, dabbing it on their fingers and sticking it in her nostrils or rubbing it around Misty’s lips while she sucked on a pickle. It dawned on me just how humiliating this whole thing must feel to my mother.

She’s never been one who was shy, but all our laughing and teasing had to get to her on some level. She was bent over, fully exposed, with mayo running down her ass-crack. That alone would have humiliated me to be tied up and unable to even cover myself with my hands or stand up.

I appreciated the fact that Misty had been lovingly giving head to a pickle for 10 minutes while none of us really even watched. If a girl sucked my dick, she’d have 100% of my attention. This wasn’t even connected to anyone. She wasn’t giving pleasure, I doubted she could be getting pleasure, and we weren’t even watching.

That had to feel demeaning to be relegated to a naked pickle sucker while your sons slapped your asses.

“Oh wow,” Hope walked into the kitchen and faked surprise by how stretched out my mother was over the chair. At this point, she wasn’t shocked, but she pretended to be offended while passive aggressively ignoring my mother’s behavior.

Hope strode to the fridge, removed the pickle jar, and put one in her mouth. Unlike my mom, who was told to suck only, she bit hard into it. The mental image that ran through all our minds was of our sister biting our penises off while smiling about it.

“Do I have to make my own dinner?”

“No, we’ll eat. It’s barely,” I noticed the clock. It was after 4pm. We had been at it for two and a half hours. The time flew by.

“Are you ready to cum, Dumbellina?” I leaned down to my mother and whispered in her ear.

“MMm ... hmmm,” my mom sucked on the pickle.

I plucked it from her mouth. “I don’t think you earned it; maybe after dinner?”

“My mom murmured a protest. I dipped the pickle in her ass crack, scooped up some mayonnaise. “This should be jizz! You get to cum, but we have to pretend this doesn’t turn us on?”

I wiped the pickle under her nose and gave her a mayo mustache. “You had a face covered in the real thing yesterday; how did that make you feel cunt?”

“Like a dumb whore, Sir!” Mom mumbled. I flipped her so that her body started to slide out of the chair, and she fell on the tile. I didn’t mean for her to hurt herself like that. “Ooh! Ow!”

I began to untie her and teased her with the pickle to suck it. “We didn’t get to maximum volume. We took our time to warm you up! There are still several more hours. We could have been doing this all weekend, but you had to call Dad’s friend.”

“Yes, sorry, sorry! I won’t do that again, Sir!”

“Let’s see how deep your pussy is,” I said as I spread her legs and laid her on her back. I brought them up so that her pussy and asshole were still visible; I forced her to contort in such a way that while laying back on her shoulders, she kicked her legs up and over her head. I was trying to position her pussy over her face.

“You are a human urinal, right?”

Misty didn’t answer. Her stomach muscles were quivering as she tried to hold the position and looked up at her belly button. “What does it say right here?”

“Human urinal?”

“Who wrote that?”

“Doug?”

“Do you belong to Doug?”

“No.”

“But Doug got to use you like a toilet?”

“He just pissed in my mouth, but please don’t do that, Sir!!!”

“Who said I would?” I pushed one of her dildos into her throat and abruptly pulled it out wet with spit. “Here, fuck that cunt, but pull it out when we tell you. I want to see how deep and wide that pussy it is.”

“Yes, Sir, thank you!”

“Does that pussy belong to us?” I asked. I felt like James.

“Do you really want it?”

I stepped on her tits and squished them with my feet. I felt the tack in her boob in the sole of my foot. “I asked if it belongs to the three of us?”

“Yes!”

“Could it belong to Hope?”

“I don’t want it; leave me out of this,” Hope interrupted.

“I didn’t ask that. If she wanted that pussy, would it belong to all four of us?”

My mom groaned. “I don’t want to make Hope uncomfortable,” without definitively answering my question.

“We are way past uncomfortable, Misty,” Hope assured her mother.

“Yes, it belongs to whoever you want to share it with.”

“What belongs?” I asked. “Pull it out and show me.”

“My cunt, Sir. It belongs to whoever you want,” Misty smiled and plucked the dildo out fully, and held her pussy open so we could see.

“Fuck that cunt for us! Amuse us! “You’ll fuck anyone we want?” I wasn’t sure if she was serious.

“I am your whore! Yes!”

“But I can’t play with that dildo?”

“You can. I just didn’t want to go that far, but please don’t make me! I can’t! I already feel so guilty about doing this! Please just let me get used to this first, before we go any further. Ugh, fuck!!! Please!!!!!! OH GOD!!!!!” my mom began to thrust and fuck it.

“Take it out, take it out, suck it,” I demanded. Trent and James held each of her legs apart while she kept her wet dripping pussy over her face and sucked the dildo. “Please let me cum!”

“Look at that bored-out pussy!” I pulled her labia apart. “Doug fisted you?”

“HRMRMRmmmm,” Misty mumbled and shook her head yes.

“Are you ready to cum?” she nodded.

“You can cum, but only if James and Trent fuck your ass and pussy with your other two dildos. Your choice, cunt. Do you want to cum for us or not?”

“Oh please, don’t tempt me, fuck, I shouldn’t; I am the world’s worst mom.”

“You aren’t our mom right now. I need you to understand that,” I stood on her hair and spit on her face. “You are Misty, the whore! The human toilet, the sperm eater, the slut! The whore! So what do you want, Misty?”

“Yes, please, do me, do me, do me, god, I need it,” Misty begged us to bring her to orgasm and went back to sucking the dildo. She didn’t refuse to be called a whore or a toilet, but she was also completely wrapped up in her own need to get off so I doubt she was thinking about what it meant to agree. She just wanted to cum – badly.

James took that dildo and gave her the smallest one to lick. He pushed it into her open pussy, all the way to the hilt. “Uhhh!!!”

Trent seemed reluctant to actually fuck her butt. He had oiled it, put mayo on it, and it was sweaty and coated with her pussy drippings running down her crack. It was a good thing because my little brother didn’t lube up the dildo, and he didn’t take his time. He pushed the thick black dildo into her asshole like he was pumping up a tire.

“Gahhh!!!! OH!!! YOU ARE RIPPING ME UP!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!” Misty reached out with her hands and grabbed James. She squeezed his arms and yelled. Spit fully dripped down the side of her face as she dropped the dildo and rode the orgasm that was coursing through her body. She was clearly wracked with pain while simultaneously humping both dildos and having an incredible orgasm.

Her ecstasy crescendoed, peaked, and then rapidly dissipated into tiny “oh, oh, oh,” pants. “Thank you, thank you,” She sighed and laid down. “We totally shouldn’t have gone that far, but fuck. That was a mind-blower.”

James and Trent withdrew the soaked dildos. There was a thin poop stripe on the one that was in my mom’s ass. She scrunched her nose in disgust as she brought her legs back down and laid flat on the tile.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Misty seemed to summon energy from somewhere deep in her reserves. She lifted herself up off the floor and squatted down with her legs spread so that her butt was resting on her ankles. She reached for the dildo. “Thank you for giving me an orgasm, James. I hope that didn’t freak you out?”

James was ecstatic. My mother looked over her shoulder at me and asked, “This is how I cleaned my toys last night, and you said I need to do it the same way, right?”

“Yes, Misty!” I kicked under her ass so that the top of my foot hit the crack of her ass and pussy. It wasn’t a hard kick intended to knock her over. She pushed back playfully like she was trying to sit on my foot. It looked like Misty was going to play the Oboe when she put the black dildo to her lips, except she kept sucking and swallowing until she had several inches down her throat.

“You are going to clean it?” Trent smiled and grinned. I didn’t think my mom would agree to that.

Misty had her mouth full. She blanched and and nodded yes because her mouth was full. Trent sniffed it and confirmed it was her poopy. It wasn’t a lot – but there was a very light brown streak. My mom sucked it clean like it was not that big of a deal.

“Okay, I am snapping a picture of this one,” Hope came around the table, pulled out her cell phone, and prepared to take a picture. Misty finished licking the sides of the dildo that had been in her pussy and spun it like corn on the cob that she was finishing off.

“It’s really not that bad,” Misty stoically reached out for the dildo. Trent looked at me as if perhaps I might tell him we shouldn’t make her do it. I wanted to see it.

Misty pushed the entire dildo six inches down her throat and pulled it out like a saxophone player. It was clean and no longer had that light layer of brown smegma on it. “I am a lot less ashamed of sucking on my toys after I played with them,” she continued sucking and licking it clean “than I am of begging my sons to allow me to orgasm. Can we take a break during dinner from spankings and talk about it?” she asked as she slid the dildo down her throat, pulled it out, admired how clean it was and showed it to us for approval.

My mom was enthusiastically proud of how easily she could deep throat a dildo. It was impressive, to say the least. I think she liked showing off and making it look effortless or maybe she was just in a playful and horny mood.