SexStory2 » My Mom The Dom
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I had the house to myself. Mom and Dad were away for the weekend and my bratty little brother was spending the night on a boy scout camp out. It was raining, one of those long steady rainy nights that always make me feel romantic. I decided to have some fun all by myself.
I started by stripping naked, then I walked up to the ‘great room’. That’s what we called the huge room at the top of the house. It could also could have been called the dungeon. Our house was a huge old Federalist style house in Boston. It had been built around eighteen twenty and stood three stories high. All the rooms were big with high ceilings, but the ‘great room’ was enormous. It ran the entire length of the house, almost fifty feet, and was thirty feet wide. The ceiling was over twelve feet high. After we bought the place Mom took one look at that room and decided it would be her torture chamber. Dad didn’t get a say in the matter. Actually, Dad didn’t get a say in anything, Mom ruled the household the same way she ruled her clients. She did make one concession to Dad though, she allowed him the honor of being the first slave she tortured in the new house.
I went in to Mom’s dressing room and looked through her library of bondage magazines. I was already horny and looking at the pictures of bound women got me hotter. I decided that I was in a Betty Page mood, so I set aside a stack of her magazines. Then I went through the wig drawer and found a Betty Page wig. I took my time putting the wig on. I tucked my hair under a nylon cap and used dabs of adhesive to hold the wig securely. After the wig I put on some old fashioned and very sexy black silk stockings and five inch spike heels. Then, knowing full well that Mom would whip me half to death if she ever found out, I put on her favorite leather corset. One that leaves the breasts exposed. Finally, full length opera gloves.
I looked at myself in the mirror. Without any false modesty, I have to say that I looked just about as good as Betty did in her heyday. My legs are long and my waist is trim and my boobs are just a tad bigger than hers. And the wig with the bangs was the icing on the cake. Not bad for a seventeen year old, right?
I buckled a nice wide slave collar on my neck, grabbed a hand full of hand cuffs and shackles and took the magazines out to the great room. I sat on the floor and spread the magazines around me, then I snapped a set of ankle cuffs on, connected a short hobble chain between them, then handcuffed myself. The instant I locked the handcuffs on I realized that I’d forgotten to bring the key. I was frightened for a few seconds, and very turned on!
I got to my feet, which wasn’t easy, then hopped back into Mom’s dressing room. I got a cuff key, then decided to bring a long a gag. (I prefer penis gags, but in keeping with the Betty Page theme, I chose a red rubber ball gag).
I hopped back to the magazines and knelt, then I put the ball gag in my mouth. It was difficult to buckle the strap with my hands cuffed, but I managed.
I looked through the magazines and played with my pussy for a long time. I was very aroused and it took a lot of self discipline to keep from cumming. I planned a long evening and didn’t want to cum too soon. I got so very close several times but forced myself to stop. Self denial is part of the whole scene and being horny and helpless drives me wild!
I unlocked my handcuffs and shackles and replaced them with leather cuffs and padlocks. The leather is more comfortable and looks great, but I like the unyielding feel of steel restraints. I tried on several sets of cuffs that evening and finally went back to original set of police handcuffs and shackles.
I unlocked my handcuffs, tossed the key over my shoulder so I couldn’t see where it landed. I threw if a long way and didn’t hear it land. I would have a tough time finding the key but that was part of the fun. I recuffed my hands behind my back. I bent my knees up and looked my handcuffs through my shackles, which put me in a pretty tight and very sexy hog tie. I had done this before in my room a few times and loved squirming around looking for the key. The only way to travel is to inch along on my knees and boobs, which is very exciting and painful, getting all the way across the great room was going to be a real challenge. I even considered blindfolding myself, that would make finding the key lots harder, but I wanted to look at the pictures of Betty.
I lay on my tummy and looked through the magazines some more. I had to use my nose to turn the pages. I was having a great time, then I heard a noise in the house.
I froze in terror, was someone in the house? Was it a burglar? Would he find me and rape me?
No such luck. It was my brother.
Mike walked in the room and grinned. “Well, well. Enjoying a quiet evening at home?” he asked. “Or are you expecting somebody?”
I tried to talk through my gag. I demanded that he get out. Unfortunately, my words were garbled. Oh, he knew what I was saying all right, he just decided to torment me.
“What’s that? You want to suck my cock?” he asked. I glared at him and shook my head furiously.
“Not that? Then I guess you must be asking me to punish you for getting into Mom’s stuff, right?’
I shook my heard and screeched through my gag.
“You better ask me to,” he said. “Because if Mom finds out that you’re wearing her corset she’ll do things to you ten times worse than I will.”
He had a point. If Mom did find out she would whip me raw, and it wouldn’t be one of her sexy whippings either. My tummy went cold with fear.
I remembered the time Mom got angry at Dad, really angry! She made him strip naked, tied his wrists behind his back so tight that he immediately lost feeling in his hands, then marched him up to the great room. I don’t know to this day what he had done, but Mom was so furious that she forgot to order us kids to our rooms like she ordinarily does when Dad gets tortured. Mike and I followed and watched from the door.
Mom strung Dad up by his wrists till his feet were off the floor, locked a spreader bar between his ankles, put very cruel alligator clamps on his nipples and proceeded to whip him for hours. Mom whipped Dad until blood dripped from his back, his ribs, his legs, and especially his ass. He fainted several times and she threw water in his face or held smelling salts to his nose until he regained consciousness, then she whipped him some more.
That wasn’t the first time I’d watched Mom torture Dad. I had snuck up and peeked in several times, and it always turned me on, but that night I was so excited that it came in my panties without even touching myself. Mike was excited too. His dick was poking the front of his pants and a couple to times he ran into the bathroom and jerked off, then he came back to watch some more.
Mom caught us watching and surprised us by ordering us to come in the room. She had Mike put a couple of chairs in front of Dad and we sat down and watched. Mike knew to put the chairs far enough back that we were out of whip range. (Mom gets pretty wild and one advantage of the great room is she can swing a whip around without breaking lamps and things).
Dad was embarrassed but his cock was hard, in fact, he stayed hard the entire time, even for the few minutes he was unconscious. Mom whipped every inch of dad’s body, she even hit his cock with a riding crop, and when he stayed hard she changed to a metal yardstick. She swing it with both hands and pounded Daddy’s cock until it was dark purple with bruises. Poor brave Daddy didn’t even whimper, he just thrust it forward and begged for more. That might have gone over with Mom if that had been a normal sex slave whipping, but she was genuinely furious. She turned the yardstick and hit Dad’s cock with the edge, like a sword. Mike and I gasped, thinking that she would cut Daddy’s cock clean off! It didn’t but it mad him cum. He rolled up his eyes and spurted cum five feet. That made Mom angrier. She screaming at him that this was no evening for him to spurt cum onto the floor. Dad didn’t say anything, he just thrust his pelvis back and forth and spurted more cum.
In a deep, deadly voice Mom told Mike to fetch her bullwhip. This is a real bullwhip, thick and long and heavy, and deadly. It had been a gift from a client, a souvenir from a trip out west. She had never used it on anyone until that night. She took a few practice swings and had the air hissing, then she cracked it like a cannon firing. Mike and I were terrified and started for the door. Mom hissed at us to sit down and watch. Daddy’s cock got hard as Mom practiced with the bullwhip. He got a desperate, hungry look on his face.
Mom was soaked with perspiration. She took off her clothes, even her bra, (she never wears panties). Mom is tall and slender and has large heavy breasts. They sag quite a bit, but boy are they beautiful! And they bounced around a lot when she swung that whip. My pussy was throbbing watching her, and Mike’s cock poked up through his fly like a tall tree.
Daddy lowered his head and watched Mom under his brows. She stood in front of him and swung the whip in a circle over her head. It was spinning like a helicopter when she stepped closer and the whip hit Dad. It hit the back of his waist, curled around his body until the tip cracked against his stomach like a gunshot. His cock spurted even further than before, then he passed out. Mom gasped in rage! She wanted him to feel that whip and he was cheating by losing consciousness. Nothing woke him, not smelling salt, not cold water. Mom checked to make sure that he was breathing, then told us to go to bed, turned out the lights and left Dad hanging all night.
After that Mom permitted us to watch when she tortured him.
Dad was badly injured by that whipping. Mom couldn’t take him to the hospital without questions being asked so she called a doctor to the house. Doctors don’t usually make house calls anymore but this one was one of Mom’s clients. He tended Dad’s injuries and visited every day until Dad was ok. After each visit, Mom took the doctor up to the great room for a couple of hours of torture. Mike and I tried to watch but Mom always closed the door securely. One day though, she left it ajar and we were astonished to see her touch the doctor’s cock!. She had him stretched tight on the X cross and had flogged his chest and legs, then she took hold of his cock and played with it until he came!
We were flabbergasted. No matter how much they beg, no matter how much they offer to pay, Mom never has sex with her clients. The closest she comes is to permit a select few eat her pussy, and most of those are women, so watching her jack off the doctor came as quite a surprise. It isn’t every man who gets a hand job from the most famous dominatrix on the Eastern Seaboard.
I still don’t know what Dad did to make Mom so angry, but I never want to get her that mad at me. I wasn’t sure if wearing her things would make her angry or bullwhip angry - I didn’t want to find out, so I submitted to my brother.
Mike played it to the max, He clipped a leash to my collar and made me hop around the room. This made my breasts jiggle, which he liked (and I secretly enjoyed too). He made me do my inchworm crawl until my breast were raw (and tingling) from carpet burns. He removed my hobble and made me crawl, lick and kiss his feet, and beg him to let me suck his cock. He didn’t make me do it, not then anyway, he just made me beg and plead.
Mike tied me in every position he could think of. When he ran out of ideas he consulted Mom’s bondage library. At one point he decided to see just how tight a hog tie he could get me in. He tied me so tight that I had trouble breathing, which was a little scary, but very sexy.
I figured that Mike would torture me all evening then that would be that, but I was wrong. He kept me in bondage all weekend.
Hours into the first evening I was already exhausted. Mike took pity and made me a snack. He tied me kneeling and made me display my pussy while he fed me a sandwich. I had to pretend I was a doggy girl and bark and beg and whimper for each bite, then lick his hand in gratitude. Actually, I think I would have enjoyed it if he had been any body but my own brother.
After my snack Mike decide to use Mom’s torture equipment. She had just about every type of rack, pillory and cross ever invented. They had been built by some of her clients.
Right after we moved in Mom made drawings of what she wanted, then set up a week long working party and invited them to the house. Five were able to do it. They showed up with tools and stuff. Mom ordered them to strip naked in the foyer, then she locked collars on each one and took them upstairs. They were there for a week. The first thing they built were slave cells in the attic. That’s where they stayed when they weren’t working.
I thought it was hysterical watching five grown men working naked except for tool belts and slave collars. Dad didn’t get to help. Mom tied him to a kneeling post and made him watch.
Of course the inevitable happened. One of the workmen got a hard on and walked over to Dad. Poor Daddy knew what was expected. He opened his mouth and the man stuck his cock inside. Mom wasn’t in the room but Mike and I were sitting on a stack of lumber watching. We were giggling at the sight of a big fat cock in Daddy’s mouth when Mom walked in.
Dad’s cock got hard the instant Mom appeared, but he kept sucking the workman’s cock. She barely glanced at him while she inspected the work. She looked around for a few minutes, ignored the fact that her husband was sucking a man’s cock, then left.
When the first man came in Dad’s mouth he was replaced by another. My brother and I watched and giggled, and Mike ran to his room and got his camera. After that poor Dad seemed to have a cock in his mouth constantly. The workmen had so much fun getting their cocks sucked that their work suffered, so Mom told them that they could only get two blow jobs a day from Daddy.
Besides getting their cocks sucked the workmen were rewarded every evening by a torture session from Mom. You wouldn’t think that one woman could torture five men at a time and do a decent job, but my mom is a bitch from hell. She kept those men yelping and gasping for hours, and not one ever complained about not getting his share of attention.
I had fun too. I was fourteen and begged Mom until she gave me permission to tease her slaves. I ran around in a micro skirt, no panties and see through blouses. I sat with my legs apart watching them work. I squatted down, bent over, brushed against them and grew so daring that I grabbed their cocks. Of course they knew that they couldn’t touch me, but they got so horny that they couldn’t stand it. Some times they masturbated in front of me. They called me the ‘Little Mistress’ and actually got on their knees and begged me for sex. They offered to do anything I wanted. That was my first experience at dominating men. Boy did I like it!
I didn’t really have sex with them, not like screwing or blow jobs or even hand jobs, but I sat on a chair and let them suck my toes and lick my feet. As the week went on I let them nuzzle my boobies, and I allowed one to kiss my pussy. He was a big husky man, older that my Dad, with lots of hair on his body. He was very strong yet was the most docile of Mom’s slaves. He would do anything I told him to do, so I spread my legs and told him to kneel. I told Daddy to watch closely, then told the hairy slave that he could kiss my cunny, one quick little peck. I liked the rough feel of his beard against the inside of my thighs and absolutely adored the warmth of his lips and tongue on the lips of my pussy. I was tempted to let him keep doing it, but I didn’t want Mom to walk in. His cock was huge and hard, so I ordered him to jack off in Daddy’s face.
The other slaves were watching with hungry expressions, so I told them they could get more blow jobs from Dad and I wouldn’t tell Mom.
They were so grateful it was pathetic. They set up a little system. Three would work, one would keep watch at the door, and the fifth would shove his cock in my father’s mouth. Poor Dad, I think he must have gained five pounds from all the cum he swallowed.
Mike started me out on the rack. It was a replica of a medieval one that could literally stretch a person until they died.
He strapped chains to my wrists and ankles, then turned the windlass that tightened them. It was very scary, but sexy too. I felt my arms stretch above my head and they got tighter and tighter until I was lifter off the bed of the rack. My body was literally suspended by the chains. Mike let me adjust for a few minutes, then decided to torment my breasts. He started by pinching my nipples. At first I was concentrating on the pain in my hips and shoulders and my nipples were a minor distraction, but Mike got creative with a pair of tongs. He put those horrid things on my nipples and squeezed until I thought I would faint. I was screaming my throat raw so Mike put the gag back in my mouth. He pinched and tugged and slapped my poor boobies until they were red and aching. And somewhere along the way I crossed the line, I started to really enjoy it.
Mom had always steered me in the direction of being a dominatrix. She knew I had some submissive tendencies, in fact she told me that a good dom will have submitted to torture a few times, just to understand what its like, but still thought I had what it takes to be a whip bitch. (The idea of my ferocious, unsympathetic, hot blooded mother being tied up and tortured was too unbelievable. I simply could not imagine her naked and helpless).
As Mike tortured me I realized that I was going to have to confess to Mom that I was more interested in being tortured than doing it to someone else. I kept my thoughts to myself, though. I couldn’t bear to let my brother know that I enjoyed what he was doing to me, so I fought and cussed him every inch of the way.
After a very long time on that rack Mike took a break. He released me and even let me go to the bathroom. I staggered in and collapsed. Mike permitted me fifteen minutes, then demanded I come out on my hands and knees. I complied, and honestly don’t think I’d have been able to walk anyway.
Mike locked me in the pillory. After the rack it was actually comfortable. On the rack he had concentrated on my breasts but now he went after my bottom. He started by spanking me with his bare hands. He was big for a fifteen year old, and strong. His slaps on my butt hurt.
He moved up to a small paddle, then a larger one, then to a horrible thin switch that feels like cuts from a knife. I was crying within ten minutes, shrieking in ten more and screaming by the time he got to the switch. My legs and bottom were in pure agony. Sting after terrible sting burned my legs. It was not sexy and I was not enjoying it. I hated what he was doing to me. That is, until I had my first orgasm.
I was hurting, hurting, hurting, when without warning a sweet powerful tingling flashed through my pussy. I was astonished that the pain was somehow converted into a thrill in a split second, but almost before I realized it I came! With all my twisting and screaming Mike didn’t notice that I had orgasmed, he just kept on whipping me. A few minutes after the first one, a second orgasm flashed through my entire universe. The third was so intense I almost fainted.
Mike finally realized that I had gotten very quiet. He knelt and peered into my eyes. I tried to scowl at him, but he saw through me.
“Starting to like it, I see,” he laughed. I wanted to die of shame. Yes I liked it, but I hated for him to know it.
“Want me to fuck you?” he asked, patting my pussy. “Or would you like more of the whip?”
I wanted both.
“The whip please,” I croaked.
“You got it.”
This time he whipped my pussy. He spun a cat o nine tails like a fan against my throbbing pussy. I came in seconds and kept cumming until I fainted.
Mike kept me enslaved all weekend. The weekend became a blur of whips, nipple clamps and sucking my brother’s cock. At one point I seem to remember that he fucked me while I was bent over the whipping horse, but I’m not sure if it happened or I dreamt it. I slept only when I fainted or he decided to go to bed. When he did, he usually chained me to a cross or the spreader chair or some other fiendishly uncomfortable device.
It was sleep that was Mike’s undoing. He intended to get up on time to release me and put everything away before our parents came home, but he forgot to set his alarm clock. I was hanging on the X cross, barely conscious when Mom and Dad came home.
Categories SexStory2 Date 22/04/2011