Chapter 7

“We can’t stop doing this around the dinner table, Mom,” James said as he grabbed my mother’s tits and mashed them before setting up to give her a spanking.

“Oh, why is that?” Misty asked with an impish grin. She didn’t slap his hand away. I was still getting used to the idea that we could just reach out and grab my mother, but James and Trent seemed to be settling into it just fine.

“If we go back to normal, you might get mad at us for all the times we smacked your butt like this,” James cracked the paddle hard against my mom’s ass. It had to sting a little, but he still needed more practice to put the right level of torque by snapping his wrist when he made contact with her skin. He was trying to crack a joke, but my mom took his concern seriously.

“ONE! It might be nice to sit down at dinner sometimes, although after the amount of spankings I’ve been getting, sitting is the last thing on my mind. Don’t you think you’d ever get tired of this arrangement?” she asked without snickering or laughing.

“Nope!” James laughed and hit her butt harder this time.

“TWO!! I think we can always keep rule one, okay? I would prefer you didn’t try to squash my tits every time you see me, but if you just want to give me a pinch of a smack when I am futzing around the house, I don’t mind, THREE!!!” Mom winced in pain as he brought down another swat that made my mom’s big butt jiggle.

“What about with the paddle?” he asked as he presented it to her to punctuate his point. “Even when it’s not dinner, can I just come up behind you and give you a quick pounding?” James demonstrated by swinging the paddle in a wide arc behind my mother’s back and landing a nice hard one on her butt.

“FOUR!” Mom exclaimed in anguish. “You can ask me anytime you want to spank me,” Misty reminded him as she recovered. She bent her knee a little as if she was favoring one leg over the other.

“No, I mean, like can I sneak up on you when you are naked and give you a nice hard whap like this anytime without asking?”

“FIVE!!! I guess if I am naked, you can give me one or two anytime without asking, just not on the face,” Mom looked like she was really hurting but she didn’t move away from where she was standing or try to cover her ass with her hand. Her big butt was starting to get rosy red, and she quivered a little as she stood there flat-footed and waited for another.

“So, on the tits?” James got really excited at the prospect.

“You guys were spanking my boobs with the Mop handle,” Mom was half-way through reminding him about last Saturday night when James stood and flattened both of her engorged nipples with the paddle. The rope wasn’t in the way. “SIX!! Oh god, I felt the rush of air breaking on my face when you did that! That really hurt, James!”

“You like it though, don’t you, Misty?” Hope asked as if she had finally seen enough.

“I don’t enjoy getting popped, but after it’s over, it feels amazing. You guys aren’t going to do what you did to me last night, are you?” she asked us. My brother landed another spectacular titty spank centered on her chest, and she counted before we could ask her to explain what she meant.

“SIX! Oh my, fuck. You got me all hot and flustered and then left me tied up in my room. It took me three hours of desperation trying to open my toy box with my SEVVENNNN!!!!! Mouth, and then I couldn’t figure out how to get myself off, so I had to lie there and edge for hours until I finally realized I could take the restraints off.”

I smiled because my mom had just confessed to something that clearly turned her on. She had been denied orgasm last night for a few hours, and that had obviously excited her. The others may not have picked up on it, but I did.

“I think you should have to wear the restraints after dinner OR put on a little show here in the kitchen to show us how excited you got? We all see your dripping pussy, Misty!”

“EIGHT! I do not agree to that rule; I am going to power through one more round with each of you and have some MOMMY TIME, NINE, FUCK!! OKAY, OKAY, MY TITS ARE GOING TO FALL OFF, JAMES!! NINE!! OH PLEASE, SPANK MY ASS AGAIN, PLEASE, JAMES, PLEASE, NO, TEN!!!”

I liked how my mom called it “Mommy Time.” It made me feel a little guilty that this was borderline incest, but I was too turned on to really process why I liked that term. I also liked how the rules on the fridge started out as almost a joke but now she was taking them seriously enough to refuse new ones. It meant that Misty might actually continue to obey the old ones even after the initial novelty of this all wore off.

I was still not positive this would really last more than a few days. It seemed surreal and strangely erotic, and too good to be true.

James had clearly enjoyed himself while he rapidly spanked our mother’s tits. Naturally, when it was Trent’s turn, he wanted to do the same thing. She was breathing heavily, and her face was flushed as she spun around to him.

“Do you need a break, Mom?” I asked.

“No, let’s just power through this,” Misty gasped for air and prepared herself for another onslaught of titty spanks from Trent. My brother tried spanking her while sitting down, but he couldn’t quite get the right angle with the paddle unless he stood. My mom typically faced the table and presented her ass. However, she turned around and faced Trent’s chair and presented her tits like two swollen water balloons about to burst. She kept her hands behind her back, just above her buttocks.

I noticed from where I sat that my mother’s butt crack flapped open between swats, and her asshole puckered every time she had to count – NOT when the impact of the spank happened. I found that to be food for thought.

I also noticed that my mom’s pussy “coughed” when she got titty spanked. Every time that Trent brought the paddle down on her tits, she would expel a few droplets of snotty girl-cream from her pussy lips like she was sneezing.

I barely noticed what Trent was talking to her about. He seemed intent on getting her to talk to him the way she had to me the night before. Misty was in a tizzy by the time Trent finished laying ten hard swats on her sore tits.

“You still have another Hot Dog,” I reminded her that she had an uneaten dog that we had neglected to feed her. I rubbed it between her ass crack (mustard and all) like a cock lying between her asshole. “I am not eating THAT, Mike!”

“Don’t call me Mike,” I replied angrily.

My mother was half-way through angrily telling me not to call her Misty when I forced part of the dog into her mouth. She spit the mess into my face in defiance. I instinctively grabbed her hair, put one hand under her tummy to force her to bend over, and then forced Misty’s head down on the table to make her gobble the food. I stood behind her so closely that my jeans were touching her naked flesh.

“Garrrrallrrrrrlllllll...” Mom growled and slobbered up the food but resisted me and actually pushed back with her body. I had to force her head down on the table. I ignored everyone else. I hadn’t expected my mother to react so violently and resist me like this.

I had Misty fully bent over and controlled her head by yanking her hair and forcing her nose to the table. “Eat your food, don’t spit it out, Misty! You think you can spray pussy snot all over the floor like a salad bottle shaking piss and vinegar all over the place?”

The colorful description of my mother’s spraying pussy just sort of slipped out of my mouth. I hadn’t pre-meditated any of this.

I brought my other hand up between her legs and instinctively connected the flat of my palm with her pussy lips. They were facing me from behind so that if I had pulled my cock out, I could have fucked her right at the table while she was bent over.

“GRURRKFFRUCKYOU,” my mom managed through spittle-induced rage.

“COUNT!!” I demanded, and I slapped her hard on the pussy again.

“FROOOOP,” she spit and garbled as I spanked again. I didn’t look up. I expected someone to stop me. I regretted starting this rough interaction. I spanked her this time, and my fingers connected with her labia so that I almost penetrated her with my fingers. My mom’s back muscles were working overtime, trying to get up while she resisted.

“Count, you bitch! You know how to count to ten, don’t you?”

By the fourth swat, she murmured an angry four, but it was faint. “What? I can’t hear you!”

“Four, fuck! Michael. Please stop! This is too much!”

“You said anywhere but the face. Is your pussy on your face!?”

“FIVE! No, but oh god, please, MICHAEL, You shouldn’t do this!!!!!!!!!” she begged. I did, though. I was committed to it, and I knew how to make it hurt too. Each time I spanked her pussy, I held back less and less. I didn’t want to hit her full force like I would her ass. Her pussy was like a soft donut full of jelly and crème. I didn’t think it could take the same amount of pain. I was wrong, though. My mother not only endured it, but around eight, she began to convulse and spasm. I thought she might even be choking. “God no, please! This is too much, Michael. I can’t take it, no, please, no, no, please!”

I let her go with eight good spanks, and she remained bent over, shaking for a full minute. Then she stood up and ran to her room, crying and sobbing.

“Are you happy now, Michael? You broke Mom,” Hope tried to make a joke, but it fell a little flat. No one laughed. Trent and James looked at me as if I had seriously overstepped my boundaries.

I went to my mother’s room. She couldn’t shut the door because her hands were bound. She had flopped on her belly on the bed and was sobbing and shivering.

“Get out!!” she demanded.

“I am just going to untie you,” I offered sweetly.

“NO!!” she demanded, and her anger cut right through me like a knife. I didn’t want to upset her further. I felt like this was probably the end of our little games. I felt bad about that, but at the moment I was more concerned with my mother’s overall well-being.

“I am sorry; I’ll come back later,” I offered politely. I was genuinely sorry for what I had done. I offered no excuse, but I had clearly gotten carried away. I wanted to de-escalate and calm her. I was afraid my presence was making things worse.

She sniffed and rolled over on her side. “Come and wipe my tears away again, please, Michael,” Mom sobbed and genuinely cried. I didn’t like seeing her upset and unhappy. I wiped her tears away but didn’t feed them to her. I even wiped her hair out of her face and caressed her a little in a nonsexual way.

“I am the one that is sorry, Michael,” she sobbed. I let her catch her breath. She was clearly shaking as if she were cold. I wanted to pull her covers over her naked body, but her entire body was warm to the touch.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said.

“It was my idea to let you tie me up, and I asked you to spank me and tease me. What kind of mother am I?”

“You are a great mom!”

“I am a whore with a salad shaker pussy spraying juice all over the floor,” she paraphrased my words and sobbed. I cleared the tears away from her eyes and consoled her. “I had a full panic orgasm in front of my family at dinner,” she admitted and began to cry again.

“A panic orgasm?”

“I don’t know what to call it, but it’s like it shouldn’t be happening, and you are so afraid, and yet your entire brain shuts down, and you can’t think; it was everything – I was so embarrassed by how you were talking to me, and treating me and when the guys started spanking my tits they started to wind me up, and then you just threw me on the table and started spanking my pussy hard! It was like, what was going to happen next? I was so helpless I couldn’t move my arms. I couldn’t get up! The panic and realization that I am defenseless coupled with how you must see me as this gooey-pussy beast with a big ass in order to talk down to me like that, and then just the physical touch on my pussy – I didn’t expect it. I didn’t think we’d go down that path. I was afraid that we would. You guys were pulling my pussy flaps open on Saturday and pulling my clit out and playing with it. It was getting me so horny. I am such a silly, wicked cunt. That shouldn’t have turned me on and knowing that only made me even wetter. I have done ... done ... dirty, raunchy things to get an orgasm, but using my sons to get me off ... I felt so raunchy and so guilty. I just had this overwhelming hatred for myself and wished you’d have flipped me over and choked me out ... slapped my face...”

I hugged my mom. She couldn’t hug back because her hands were bound, but she seemed to need a long, warm hug. She was naked, sweaty, and still aroused. I tried not to make the hug anything but a platonic and supportive one, but it felt sexual on some level.

“Will you hold me for a while?” she asked when I started to get up. “Like that?”

I lay back down on the bed and held my mother until we both fell asleep together. I awoke to her warm breath on my cheek. It was two in the morning, and someone had shut her bedroom door. She woke when I began to untie her bindings. “Thank you,” she whispered sweetly.