Chapter 3: by Eric Smith

On the way home from university, Megan had dropped me off at my friend's house so I could pick up my car. I spent some time with my friend and then proceeded home. Our neighborhood is made up of older homes that were built in the days when front porches were in vogue. When I arrived home I found mom sitting on ours. She rose to meet me and we hugged and exchanged greetings. She was a little subdued and I asked her if anything was the matter.

"Nothing's the matter, Eric," she replied, "but there are some things we must talk about before you go in the house. Let's sit on the porch for a bit."

Actually, she talked and I listened. I listened with ever growing amazement.

"Eric, first I want to tell you about David and me," she began. " We have what you might call an unusual relationship. It's normal ninety percent of the time, I guess, but sometimes we do things that some people might consider... well... unusual or even perverted."

"Why are you telling me this, mom? This isn't my affair. I don't want to hear this," I responded.

"Be quiet and listen, Eric. This does concern you and you must listen carefully. David and I sometimes do what I guess you might call S & M but I'm not sure that's the right phrase. Sometimes David whips me or spanks me and I allow him to do it for a lot of reasons I don't fully understand but I suppose that they're mostly erotic and have to do with sex. You must understand, Eric, that everything is one hundred percent consensual.'

"OK," I replied, "but why do I have to know about this."

"Because Megan has learned about it. She has decided to participate. She hasn't fully realized the degree of her participation, yet, but she is going to be an active part of our so called games."

Now my mother had my attention. I must admit that when she said what she did I got a feeling inside me that wasn't necessarily bad. I don't know if I admitted it just then but I was excited about the idea of my mother, sister and David participating in a strange kind of menage de trois.

"Eric, do you think you can accept this?" she asked me.

'Well, yea, I guess I can. This is strange, mom. Where's this going?"

"David and Megan are in the kitchen," she said. "I want you to go in and see them but please do it quietly. Don't disturb them. Then maybe you can begin to figure out where this is all going and your part in it."

Wow! I thought. With increasing excitement I entered the house. It was a warm day and the air conditioner was on so I didn't hear the noise from inside until I opened the front door. What I heard put my heart in my throat. The sounds were something striking naked flesh and piteous sobbing. I moved quickly to the kitchen. David was standing by the kitchen table with what appeared to be a cane in his hand. Stretched over the table was my sister, stark naked and with a terribly marked bottom. She was facing away from me and wasn't aware of my presence. David saw me, though, and put his finger to his lips. Then he told my sobbing sister that she was to receive three more strokes and that there was another person present. He delivered another blow with the cane. I could see the pain wrack through her. Her entire body shook as she sobbed. Each application of the cane had left a welt on Megan's poor bottom. Many of them had turned blue and purple and had developed additional colorful splotches. As she sobbed she instinctively turned her hips away from David and his cane.

David stepped next to me and whispered in my ear, "You're next." Then he handed me the cane.

What did he mean I was next? Next to beat my sister with the cane? Next to be caned? Both? I looked at him for direction and he looked at the cane I was holding and then nodded toward Megan's bottom. That much was clear. I was to deliver the last two blows. With my heart in my throat and, I'm ashamed to admit, with my prick hard, I positioned myself to administer the cane. I drew it back as I had seen David do just a minute before and ripped the cane into Megan's bottom. She arched her back and raised her head up with a wrenching sob. Then she laid flat on the table, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. One of her legs bent at the knee and she raised her foot up toward her bottom as if to ward off the next blow but then, after a moment, her foot returned to the floor. The whole scene raised my sexual excitement to a fevered pitch. I don't believe that anything is as erotically stimulating as inflicting that kind of pain on a person. Particularly when you know that the person is in the kind of agony that Megan was enduring and when you know that she is enduring it voluntarily.

I looked at David and he nodded. The last blow was mine to inflict. I was seriously afraid that I was going to cum in my pants. I did not hold back. I knew that the harder I struck my sister the greater her reaction would be. The louder she'd cry. The more her naked body would twist on the table. There was no mercy in me. I stepped into the stroke and delivered it hard to the bottom of her cheeks. I was not disappointed.

David and I stood for a couple minutes watching Megan as she sobbed and tried to regain control of herself. He stepped back toward me and took the cane and once again whispered in my ear, "Don't forget. You're next."

There was no doubt, now. In the very near future it was going to be my naked body that would be stretched over that table trying to gain control of my crying. And I knew I'd be crying. There is no way that I could stand that kind of torture. I was anticipating it. I was anticipating it in fear and horror and excitement. Excitement? I don't know why. I'll never understand why. But for some unexplainable reason I wanted my ass to look every bit as bad as my sister's. How's that for sibling rivalry?

Megan was beginning to regain some control and David touched my shoulder and nodded toward her head as if to say, "Why don't you go console her."

I walked around the table and squatted down and looked in her teary eyes. Her face was ravaged and beautiful. I told her she was beautiful and I meant it. I told her I was next, thinking that might make her feel better. Then I kissed her wet cheeks and returned to David's side. The wait for my own torture was beginning to wear on me.

Some more time passed as the two of us gazed on my suffering sister. I gazed in admiration for her and trepidation for myself. I believe that David gazed in admiration for Megan and anticipation of my fate. During this time I wondered about our mother who was, I believed, still sitting on our front porch. She evidently had some idea of what was happening in her kitchen. I supposed that she didn't want to be part of our initiation into her way of life. Or maybe this was the way David wanted it. Just the three of us. Or four of us if you counted the cane.

Finally David instructed Megan to rise. She was wobbly at first and I went to help her. Then David took over. God, did he take over! As I stood and watched, he kissed her lightly on the lips. He began caressing her cunt. Megan ground her hips against his hand, moaning softly. She was actually rising toward an orgasm as I watched. The movement of her body hungered for it. She was unbelievably sexy. If given the chance she would have climaxed while standing naked in the middle of our kitchen floor. But she wasn't given the chance.

"Kneel." Ordered David in his quiet voice. As he said it he pressed down gently on Megan's shoulder. Megan lowered herself to her knees directly in front of him so that her face was even with his stomach, just above the hard bulge in his pants.

"Sit back on your heels, Megan." As she settled her abused ass on her heels I could see her wince.

"Back straight, shoulders back, tummy in," he ordered. "Fold your hands behind your head and push your elbows back."

Megan did as she was instructed. She looked beautiful. Her breasts were thrust forward and up and her nipples were hard and erect. Her face was still flushed and wet with tears but I deducted a certain pride there. Pride in her appearance and pride that she had survived her beating. I'm sure that she was aware of the fact that anytime she wanted to end her torment all she had to do was say the word, a fact had crossed my mind as I was contemplating my own torment to come.

"Spread your knees farther apart," instructed David. Megan complied. Her sex glistened with moisture. She looked toward me and her eyes locked on mine. There was a very slight smile on her lips. Then her eyes drifted down to my crotch. My cock was ready to explode. I must have turned ten shades of red. David laughed.

"This is a position that you'll learn to know well, Megan," said David. "You, too, Eric. But we'll talk about that later. I just wanted you to get familiar with it for now. I have a question, Megan. Of the thirteen licks of the cane that you just received do you think you could select two that were worse than the others?"

Without hesitating she replied, "The last two. You struck me harder for the final two."

"Ah. You see, Megan, I wasn't responsible for the last two," he said.

"Then who..." Once again her eyes locked on mine and her smile was a little bit broader. She knew, as I did, that she would have her revenge.

"Well, now," said David. "I guess it's your turn, Eric. Remove your shirt, please."

The waiting was over. Now it was my turn to suffer. I stripped off my shirt. And stood with my hands at my sides.

"Megan, crawl over and remove Eric's shoes and socks, please."