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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.
I was embarrassed when Mom walked and found me hanging on the cross. I was a mess. My hair was damp and straggly and embedded with my brother’s cum. My skin was covered with welts and bruises. My face was haggard and I had huge dark circles under my eyes. Worst of all, Mom’s leather corset was ruined. The once shiny leather was cracked and wrinkled, stained with cum and soaked with perspiration. The silk stockings were in shreds and her spike heel shoes were ruined. Nipple clamps hung from my poor tormented breasts.
Mom looked me up and down, then she spoke in a dangerously soft voice.
“Who did this to you?”
“Mike,” I whispered.
She nodded. “Did he force you to wear my corset?”
“No, I put your things on and was playing around with self bondage. He came in and found me.”
“And he decided to enslave you, right?”
“You couldn’t prevent that?”
“I was already in handcuffs and shackles,” I confessed.
“How long have you been hanging here?” she asked. She made no move to release me.
“Since about four in the morning,” I said. “But we started Friday evening about seven.”
“Did you get any rest?”
“Not much, Just a few naps here and there.”
“Hmm, Sixty hours of torture,” she mused. “I have to admire your stamina. Did you have fun?”
“Yes, I had lots of orgasms.”
“Did he fuck you?”
I nodded blushing.
“Did you suck his cock?”
I nodded again.
“So, you submitted completely?”
“I’m sorry Mom, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a dom,” I told her. “I’m not like you and Kathy. I liked being tortured.”
Kathy is my older sister. She was away at college but she was already a skilled dominatrix. Mom started her training when she was twelve and by the time she was sixteen she knew how to keep a man’s body in pain and his cock hard for hours.
Kathy is a lot like Mom, she can work herself into a state of near rage when she is torturing a slave. I’m not sure if its an act or real, but Kathy has an intensity that is frightening. Once a slave puts himself in her power he’s in for it. She doesn’t believe in safe words and shows no mercy or compassion but her clients keep coming back. She even had a stable of clients at college which included her female room mate and some of her professors.
Sometimes Mom brings Kathy into sessions with her. One supreme court justice paid them twenty thousand dollars for a twenty four hour session. He begged for strict bondage and high pain. He got what he wanted and I got to watch.
Mom and Kathy kept him in chains the entire time. He wasn’t released until the session ended. They wouldn’t even unshackle him to go to the bathroom. When he had to pee Mother held him in a choke hold while Kathy aimed his cock into the toilet. They cleaned him by throwing a bucket of cold water over his body and scrubbing him with stiff brushes. They dried him by whipping his body with towels and just for extras they snapped the damp towels on his cock and balls. Every time the judge emerged from the bathroom he looked like a drowned rat, but his cock was hard as a rock.
Mom saw to it that the judge got his money’s worth. She started him out tied to the whipping horse and spanked him, paddled him and whipped him until his butt and legs were like hamburger. Then she moved him to the whipping frame and stretched him tightly. (The frame is equipped with ratchets and can stretch slaves so tightly that you’d think their joints would become dislocated. The judge’s body was as taut as a bowstring. They tied a thin cord around his balls and hung a weight from them, then blindfolded him and left him while they took a break.
I tiptoed over and played with his cock. It was fun making the weight swing and watching his cock throb. That was the only part of his body he could move. I snuck into Mom’s dressing room and put on her sandpaper gloves. The judge groaned very loudly when I grasped his cock, and he spurted like a fountain when I jerked him off. I got Mom’s gloves put away just in time. I was sitting innocently when they came back
Mom and Kathy took turns whipping the judge. One used the whip and the other teased his cock. They went through every whip in Mom’s collection. They whipped him so hard that he has permanent scars. They made him cum too. Kathy could make him spurt by masturbating him, but all Mom had to do was brush his cock or balls lightly with the tips of her fingers and he went wild!
During the judge’s session Mom made Daddy wear a maid’s costume and squat in the corner with his knees apart. His cock was hard the whole time. From time to time she or Kathy made him crawl around and clean the cum off the floor and equipment with his tongue. He also had to clean off the judge’s cock.
They kept the judge in torment all day and all night. When they got tired one would go off and take a nap while the other worked on their victim. The only rest the judge got was when he fainted. He had a lot of stamina for a man in his late fifties but Mom was concerned that he could die of exhaustion, so when he passed out she let him rest for a couple of hours. She ordered Dad to kneel between the judge’s legs and let her know when he woke up.
They fed the judge a couple of times. He got oatmeal in a battered tin bowl. He had to kneel and lower his face into it. Dad had to lick his face off when he was finished.
They hanged the judge. Mom made him hop across the room to the gallows. It was difficult with his ankles chained together and he fell a couple of times. They didn’t care, they just got him to his feet and whipped him on. They made him hop up the steps of the gallows then Mom put the hangman’s noose around his neck. She hoisted him up until he nearly lost consciousness. Kathy played with his cock but kept him inches from cumming. When he passed out they lowered him until he revived, then strung him up again. The third time Mom had me haul him up while she whipped him. He came so hard and thrashed so wildly that I thought he was going to break his own bones. He flopped around like a fish on a line. When he finally passed out I thought he had died and let him fall. Mom removed his noose and checked his breathing. He was all right. She let him lie on the floor and sent Daddy to fetch a pot of coffee.
When the judge came to Mom and Kathy were drinking coffee and I was having a glass of milk. I was too young for coffee. He struggled and groaned and flopped across the floor straining to reach us. Mom watched coldly as he inched his way to us. He managed to reach her feet and began kissing them. He kissed Kathy’s feet and mine too, and begged for more punishment. I giggled when he licked my toes, it made my pussy tingle.
For the finale they branded him!
A tiny brand with Mom’s initial between his legs!
They stretched him wide on a table and lifted his legs up and apart. Kathy brought out an electric barbecue and turned it on. Mom made a big production of putting the branding iron on the burner. He watched in a mixture of terror and passion. Kathy buckled a cock harness on him then attached some horrible clamps to his nipples. Those clamps have such long sharp teeth that they tear the skin. She connected thin chains from the clamps to his cock and tugged the chains tight. His cock was so hard that I wondered if it might break the leather straps.
Mom tested the branding iron by touching it to a raw steak. She wasn’t satisfied until it made the steak sizzle. I don’t know if he was scared or excited, but the judge thrashed around in his bonds like a wild man. Mom held the branding iron so close to his face that he could feel the heat. Kathy stroked his balls with her fingernails while Mom slowly brought the iron close. When she pressed the red hot iron to that spot between his balls and his rectum his body arched upward. Every muscle in his body tensed. There was absolute silence for a few seconds, then he screamed loud enough to wake the dead! He fell back to the table and thrashed so hard that the table legs rocked and bounced off the floor. Cum shot out of his cock and splashed his chest and face. Mom and Kathy shrieked with laughter. Kathy yanked his nipple clamps loose and tore the harness off his cock. She grabbed it and masturbated him furiously. Mom squeezed his balls with one hand and pressed her finger against his brand. He screamed louder and sprayed more cum through the air. It looked like a lawn sprinkler. Then he passed out.
When Mom branded the judge Daddy couldn’t restrain himself. Despite his years of training, despite Mom’s standing orders, he touched his cock and masturbated without permission. (He was remembering the first time Mom branded him). Kathy laughed and pointed at him. Mom scowled furiously and screamed at him to stop. Poor Daddy just couldn’t help it. He kept jerking off. Mom jammed the branding iron back into the barbecue, then motioned for Kathy to come with her. They yanked Dad to his feet and marched him across the room. Kathy pinned Dad’s arms while Mom slowly removed the branding iron from the burner.
“Does this excite you?” Mom asked him. He nodded, staring at the iron.
“Do you want another brand?” she asked. (Mom had already branded Daddy between his legs. She did it on their honeymoon, only his brand was much bigger than the judge’s).
He sobbed and nodded. Mom looked at Kathy, who tightened her grip, then Mom pressed the branding iron onto Dad’s nipple.
Dad screamed and shot cum straight onto Mom’s legs. She gasped indignantly and branded his other nipple. Kathy released Dad and he collapsed. Mom glared down at him, then a wicked smile crossed her face. She handed the branding iron to Kathy.
“Hold your cock up,” she said to Dad. “Hold it steady.”
Dad looked at her pleadingly. She shook her head ominously. He whimpered but took hold of his cock. Mom motioned to Kathy who bent and touched the iron to the tip of Daddy’s cock. He screamed and rolled around on the floor. He didn’t let go of his cock, in fact he began jerking off again. Mom rolled her eyes and shrugged helplessly.
When Dad finally calmed down Mom sent him into her dressing room to straighten up his dress and makeup, then she mad him help the judge to the bathroom. Daddy gave the judge a long soothing bath, shampooed his hair, gave him a shave and a hand job while he soaked. After ward Dad combed his hair and got him dressed. As he left the judge kissed Kathy’s hand, bowed low and kissed Mom’s hand and gave Daddy’s cock a friendly squeeze.
A few weeks after the session the Judge found that his scars were permanent. He was so delighted that he sent flowers and gifts. He’s so proud of his scars that he displays them in the locker room of his country club, especially the brand. Mom and Kathy have acquired several new clients from among his friends.
(Its amazing what some men will pay for a mother/daughter session.)
I admire my older sister and wish I could be like her, but after my weekend with Mike I didn’t think I could measure up. I told Mom so.
“I understand how you feel,” she said. “That’s the way your father is, and despite appearances, I do love him. I torture him for his pleasure as much as my own.”
“I think I understand Daddy a little better now,” I said.
“Well, don’t be too sympathetic, remember he’s merely a male and thus inferior. You are still a woman.”
“I feel more like a slave than a powerful woman,” I told her.
“We shall see about that,” she said firmly. “You’ve enjoyed a long session of submission, and submission can be seductive, but I want you to experience a similar time as a dominant before you make up your mind. After all, I’ve got our family name to think about.”
(Mom is the fourth generation in our family to be a dominatrix. Her great grandmother came to Massachusetts in the eighteen nineties after a scandal in London, which according to family tradition, involved a gentleman of the highest social standing. She came to America and set up a dungeon in a fashionable part of Boston. Her daughter became a dom, so did my grandmother, my mom and my aunt. Kathy and I will be the fifth generation).
“I don’t want to embarrass the family,” I said. “But , ,”
“No buts,” Mom said firmly. “You will get a chance to control a male from his first day of slavery.”
“How will I do that?”
“Your brother must be punished,” she said. “He tortured you without my permission and he put his penis in your body.” She looked around at the wreckage of the great room and shook her head. “I planned to break him to slavery when he was a little older, but since he’s dared to humble a woman, I’ll start his training right away. You and your sister will help me.”
“But what if Mike’s not submissive the way Daddy is?” I asked. “We would be forcing him against his will.”
“Does that matter?” she laughed, then her voice grew deeper and quieter. “That’s the supreme pleasure,” she whispered. “Breaking a strong male, one without any submissive tendencies, teaching him to love pain in spite of himself.” Her expression grew dreamy. “Its like taming a wild stallion, the pleasure is a hundred times stronger than punishing some wimp, , , God, I get wet thinking about it!”
My pussy gave a little throb. It did sound exciting.
“Have you ever done that Mom?” I asked. “Have you ever tamed a man against his will?”
“Yes,” she sighed. Her eyes looked far away. “Your grandmother and I traveled to Spain when I was your age. A wealthy lady had grown tired of her husband’s affairs with other women so she asked us to come. She bought a house in the country and we set up a dungeon. When it was ready she drugged his food and brought him to us. We stripped him naked and put him in chains. He resisted furiously, but we whipped and tortured him for several months until he was quite docile. Your grandmother did most of the work, I only helped, but I’ll never forget the thrill I had when he finally admitted defeat and knelt to us.
“When that happened we called his wife and she came to the house. She wanted to participate in his final training. She was seething with anger after all his affairs and wanted to punish him the cruelest way possible. She picked your grandmother’s brains for ways to torment her husband.
“She was merciless, she branded him, she pierced his body with needles and fish hooks, she tied his legs open and threatened to castrate him.”
“No, but she toyed with his balls with knives and hot irons so menacingly that for days afterwards he screamed when she walked in the room. He was so frightened that whippings didn’t bother him. He worried about what exotic tortures his wife was going to think up. The mildest thing she did was to beat his balls with whips and paddles until he passed out with pain, then she revived him and started over.”
“Did he learn to like torture?”
“Yes, after we broke his spirit we showed him a tiny bit of pleasure.”
“How did you do that?”
“We would torment him for an hour or so, then play with his cock, fleetingly, lightly, delicately. At first he couldn’t get erect because of his pain and fear, but slowly he started to respond to our touch.”
“Eventually we trained him that to obey every command brought a small reward. A few strokes of a feminine hand on his cock, or a caress of his balls. He became so conditioned that his cock would pop up the instant one of us entered the room. The best part was to tie him securely and tease his cock for hours. The trick was to bring him very close, but not let him cum. You have to watch very closely. We used every trick in the book, especially in the way we dressed.”
“How was that?”
“No dominatrix outfits, no leather, no boots. We wore skimpy dresses and skirts and let him peek down our cleavage or up our skirts. We even wore panties. As he became more and more submissive we stopped wearing panties, and our clothes got even skimpier. Finally one afternoon I buckled a very tight cock harness on him, then left. We left him alone for a long time, then entered his dungeon wearing dominance outfits.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Your grandmother wore red leather. A corset with bra, panties and heels. I wore the same type outfit but in white. We stood in front of him in the dominance pose, you know, feet apart, chin up, arrogantly looking down at him.”
“Ooh, that sounds sexy.”
“The man gasped and his cock strained the harness when he saw us,” Mom continued. “But the best was to come.”
“His wife came in. She made us look pale in comparison.”
“Oh yes,” Mom said. “She carried a whip and wore a black leather jacket and leather skirt. Her hair was as black as her leather, and she wore it in a bun with a high comb, like a classical Spanish lady. She looked sexy and powerful.
“What did her husband do?”
“He was struck dumb. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He started to tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her, but she wanted none of that. She slapped him into silence. She stalked around him raking his skin with her nails, slapping his face, pinching his balls. Then she stepped back and took off her clothes.
“She took off her jacket and revealed a leather corset that left her breasts exposed.”
“Did she have nice breasts?” I interposed.
“Very nice,” Mom said. “They were large and firm, and she had painted her nipples red with lipstick.”
“Her husband’s eyes bulged when he saw them, but that was nothing. Her skirt was skin tight and held closed by snaps. She grasped the waist band and tore it off with a single motion, then whirled it over her head like a matador’s cape and flung it across the room. I thought this eyes were going to pop out of his head.”
“She was naked under the skirt, and her pussy hair was jet black and very thick. She was the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” Mom said.
“Then she tortured him?”
“Her husband was begging her to whip him. He strained his body upward offering himself to her whip.”
“What did she do?”
“She whipped him half to death.”
“Yes, and he thanked her for every stroke and begged for more. She didn’t stop until he was a bleeding mass of flesh.
“Did he ever get to cum?”
“He came while she whipped him but we didn’t realize it until we took him back to his cell. I noticed cum oozing through his cock harness. That was the last time though, after that he wore a chastity belt.”
“Wouldn’t a chastity belt keep him from getting hard?”
“Not that kind. It was a large tube that allowed him to get big, but there was no way for him to reach an orgasm. Its incredibly frustrating for a male. I know because I’ve used one on your father.”
“I kept one on him for six months once.”
“Just to be a bitch,” she grinned.
“What ever happened to the Spanish lady and her husband?”
“We trained him for several more weeks. We even feminized him.”
“That must have been tough for him,” I observed.
“Very,” Mom said, “Especially for a macho Spanish padrone, but he didn’t resist when we taught him to be a woman.”
“We had him mincing around in heels and skirts and simpering like a little girl. Sometimes he grumbled a little with your grandmother and me, but when his wife was present he was as docile and obedient as a little girl.”
“Obedient enough to offer himself to men?”
“She brought in her servants and made her husband beg to suck their cocks and beg them to fuck him. Later she brought in farm hands as well. She loved making him suffer through marathon sessions with men.”
“Did she ever forgive him?”
“No. She told everyone that her husband had suffered a stroke and was in a coma. She’s kept him under lock and key for twenty years.”
“And he’s never cum in all that time?”
“Yes, he has. She noticed after a few years that he was starting to act crazy. She was afraid that he might actually go insane and thus not suffer enough, so she lets him masturbate every once in a while. Sometimes she even makes him cum herself.”
“What does she do to him?’
“She’s turned it into a ritual,’ Mom said. “he tells him that she’s going to make him cum then teases him for weeks. She has a little harem of handsome young men and she takes them to hubby’s dungeon. She makes him watch while she has sex with her lovers one after another. She also whips her husband, makes him submit to her boys and beg, beg, beg. Finally, after all day of tormenting him she squeezes his cock and he cums.”
“That’s all it takes,’ Mom laughed. “One touch from her and he spurts like a fire hose.”
“How do you know this/” I asked.
“She writes to your grandmother regularly and sends pictures of him in humiliating situations.”
“Has she become a dominatrix?”
“Not a professional like us. She’s too well known in Spanish society to risk her reputation. She concentrates on only one slave but she makes his life a hell.
“So you see, I’m not the cruelest woman in the world,” Mom laughed. “At least I let your father out of the house occasionally.”
I had a vivid picture in my mind of the Spanish lady. I wondered what it would be like to submit to her.
“Are you angry with me for submitting to Mike?” I asked.
Mom shrugged. “I should be, I suppose, but I’ll wait to see how you handle yourself with your brother before I decide to punish you or not.”
My pussy throbbed deeper and heavier.
“I’m not trying to sound defiant or disrespectful,” I said. “But I have to warn you that I think I just might enjoy anything you do to me.”
“Oh, a true masochist eh?” She grabbed one of the clamps and yanked it off my nipple. I wasn’t expecting it. The pain was horrific, and the orgasm was wonderful.
When I managed to stop writhing I turned the other breast toward her. She yanked that clamp off too.
It took ten minutes to get my breathing back to normal. She was watching closely. I smiled weakly.
“You may be right,” she said sadly. “You might be cut out to be submissive, but I’m not giving up on you yet.
“Mom, I want to help you tame Mike, and I’ll do everything you say, but just in case it doesn’t work out and I still want to be a sub, can I ask you a favor?”
“Would you whip me with the bull whip?”
She looked at me for a moment. “No, if it turns out that you truly are cut out to be a submissive I won’t use that thing on you. You’re still my daughter.” She paused for a moment. “But I might let someone else do it. Your aunt Georgia perhaps.”
Mom started Mike’s training that instant. She went to his room and returned leading him on a leash. He was naked but his cock was no longer hard. She made him release me from the cross then kneel, kiss my feet and beg my forgiveness. Mike sounded sincere. He was scared. He kissed my shoes and ankles and offered to do anything to atone. Mom let him grovel for a while, then motioned for me to leave.
I staggered to my room and collapsed into bed. I slept for fourteen hours straight.
Mom made my brother crawl over every inch of the great room floor on his hands and knees. Then she ordered him to put on a frilly apron and clean the room. She stood over him as he tidied up and put away all the equipment, then he had to dust and polish all the torture racks and crosses.
Mike, being a typical fifteen year old boy, grumbled a lot and didn’t see why he had to polish things that he hadn’t used. Mom lit into him verbally and with a riding crop.
Mike had never been punished sexually and he didn’t like it. He howled and complained and tried to get loose, but Mom is very strong and she’s used to dealing with unruly males. Mike was no match for her. She shoved him to the floor, knelt on his neck and whipped his ass with a riding crop until he was screaming. (Screams do not deter my mother, if anything, they excite her.) She told me later that she hadn’t planned to do much with Mike that first day, but when he rebelled she changed her mind.
When Mike was reduced to a sobbing whimpering little male, she dragged him to the stocks and locked him in. Poor Mikey, he was bent at the waist with his head and hands securely trapped in the pillory. His butt was exposed and quite vulnerable. Mom went back to work on him with the riding crop. Mike learned that one whipping does not necessarily constitute enough punishment in Mom’s eyes.
Dad was downstairs cleaning house and he could hear Mike screaming two floors away. Fortunately Mom had the great room sound proofed soon after we moved in, other wise the way my brother was howling the neighbors would have probably called the police
After she set up the dungeon Mom decided that sound proofing was necessary so she brought back her work slaves, (the same ones who built the dungeon equipment). They were delighted to return.
They were in the house for several days, living in their slave cells. Every morning Mom took them out one by one and put their tool belts on. She had the belts altered so she could pad lock them. She also bound up their cocks and balls with thin leather strips which she tied to the front and back of their belts. The strips cut into their skin, but they seemed to like it, any way, their cocks stayed hard all day. They couldn’t pee though, not until the strips were untied and Mom forbade them to do so. They had to go to her, get on their knees and beg for permission to go to the bathroom. Mom made them suffer before she would untie their cocks.
In order to sound proof the room they drilled holes in the walls and pumped in some kind of foam stuff, and they installed triple pane windows with extra thick glass. They had to work outside on the windows so Mom let them get dressed, but she inserted vibrators up their butts and held them in place with chastity straps. It was fun watching them climb ladders very gingerly.
While they were here Mom had them put in better lighting in the dungeon, paint a couple of rooms and do a few other odds and ends around the house. They loved it and two of them, the unmarried ones, begged Mom to let them stay permanently as house slaves.
I liked having them in the house. I got to tease them again.
Poor Daddy suffered though. When he wasn’t busy cleaning house or cooking, Mom tied him on his knees and made him available to the workmen. Slavery must make men horny because those men were always hard and they stuck their cocks in Dad’s mouth every chance they got. The bindings on their balls made it hard for them to cum, but that didn’t stop them from trying. Every time I looked in poor Dad was sucking one of them.
When they finished the job Mom rewarded them with another all night bondage session and I got to watch.
Mom usually wears a dominatrix outfit when she runs a session but that night she was naked, she wore only a pair of boots with wickedly sharp spurs. She looked incredible!
She included Daddy in his role as cum slave and made him clean the floor with his tongue throughout the night. When he wasn’t licking up cum he was kept in very tight bondage.
Mom whipped and spanked the slaves. She put them on the rack and on the crosses and hung them by their wrists. She attached alligator clamps to their nipples and balls and cocks and poured hot wax on their bodies.
I loved watching, but at fourteen I needed my sleep. I began to nod off about two in the morning. The last thing I watched was Mom tying each man over a heavy rail bent at the waist. She tied them very tightly and spread their feet apart. The rail was long enough that she put all five side by side, then she went into her dressing room. I followed.
Mom put on her most wicked dildo. She had it especially made. It’s L shaped. One end fits inside her pussy, the other juts forward. It has a realistic pair of balls. The dildo jiggles and the balls swing when she walks. Its held in place by a pair of crotchless rubber panties. The panties are very tight, like a girdle, and Mom has to coat the insides with baby powder just to get them on. Once in place, they hold the dildo quite firmly. (Mom doesn’t like strap on dildos, they slip and slide around too much.) The dildo and panties are exactly the same color as Mom’s skin. The panties are so tight and the hole around the dildo is so small that from any distance she looks like a shemale.
The slaves’ eyes widened when Mom walked back to the great room. A couple looked worried, a couple were frightened, and the last was horrified. He began fighting his bonds and screaming in his gag. Mom ignored him. She paraded in front of them, telling them in detail how she was going to fuck them all.
She started at one end of the line and slid the dildo into the first slave’s ass. He groaned, but obviously liked it. (Mom knows her clients and their likes and dislikes).
She fucked him for twenty minutes, then moved to the next. When she got to the man who was afraid she showed no mercy. He was pleading in his gag. His words were unintelligible, but it was obvious that he didn’t want that thing up his butt. Mom didn’t care.
Mom toyed with that poor man. She rubbed the dildo in his face, then walked around and rubbed it against his legs. Then, slowly, she placed it against his ass. She dug her nails into his back until tiny drops of blood showed, then she rammed it into him. He screamed! Gag or not, that poor slave screamed to wake the dead.
Mom fucked him long and steadily. The other slaves craned their necks to watch. Their cocks were all hard. I glanced at Daddy. He was hard too and he was watching with a desperate hungry look on his face.
Mom fucked the slave and from time to time glanced down at his cock. Despite his groans and whimpers, it slowly began to rise. When it was finally erect she grasped it and squeezed. The slave came instantly. His cum hit the floor so hard that it splashed.
When he stopped spurting I think he assumed that Mom would stop. Poor foolish man, no way! Mom kept screwing him. For a long time she pumped into his ass. Sure enough, he got hard again!
I fell asleep about that time, and was awakened by a piercing scream. Mom was whipping the slaves with a horsewhip. A horrid thing so thin that it cuts like a razor. She was stalking back and forth slashing the whip so fast that it buzzed. She was covered with sweat and her eyes were wild and furious. Her breasts swayed with every stroke and every stroke brought a scream or groan from the slaves. She would thrust her dildo into a slave’s ass, dig her claws into his back and fuck him furiously for a few minutes, then she whipped them again.
Even with the screams I couldn’t keep my eyes open so I went to my room and fell asleep.
The next morning I awoke and the house was quiet. I walked past Mom’s room and peeked in. She was asleep sprawled on her double king sized bed but Daddy wasn’t in his kennel.
I found him in the great room. He was tied to the whipping horse. His body was covered with welts and bruises and Mom’s claw marks. Dried cum dotted his back, his butt and his legs. Dozens of clamps were attached to his body and large weights hung from his nipples. An electric cord was clamped to his balls. It was plugged into a random timer that sent jolts of electricity into them every few minutes.
He raised his head when I walked in. His face was covered in cum and his skin was pale and haggard. He looked up at me but his mouth was so dry he couldn’t talk. I got a glass of water with a straw.
When he could talk I asked him what happened.
“I wanted your mother to fuck me with the dildo,” he answered. “But she wouldn’t do it. She whipped me for daring to ask, then she allowed those other slaves to fuck me.”
“All of them?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Several times apiece.”
“Where are they?” I wondered.
“Your mother locked them in their cells and went to bed hours ago. She left me here.” Just at that moment the timer sent a charge onto his poor helpless balls. He gasped in pain and his whole body tensed.
“Poor daddy,” said patting his head. (His hair was damp with cum so I wiped my hand over his face.)
I wanted to release him but I knew better. No one untied Mom’s slave without her permission.
Mom walked in a minute later. She was bleary eyed and yawned hugely. She wore her dressing gown of light supple leather. (My Mom never wears anything ordinary except when she goes out in public). The gown was open in the front and exposed her pussy. Dad’s cock rose instantly.
Mom absently patted him on the head. She looked around the room and shook her head.
“Release him,” she told me. “And see to it that he cleans this mess. Then he can make breakfast.”
I untied Daddy and he fell off the whipping horse. He struggled to get to his feet but he was too weak to stand. Mom gave him a look of withering contempt. He made a heroic effort and got up. Mom stepped close and grasped his balls. She squeezed hard, digging her nails into them. Dad’s head rolled back and a look of pure ecstasy came over his face.
“Don’t you dare spurt onto my gown,” Mom warned him. She tugged upward until he was on tiptoe.
“If you keep doing that I won’t be able to hold back,” he whimpered.
Mom leaned closer and actually rubbed her breasts against him. “Control yourself little male,” she said. “And I just might permit you to cum later.”
“Oh, God!” he groaned.
“Clean up in here,” she said. “Lick up all the cum, put everything away, tidy up. Then fix our breakfast and feed the other slaves. Once you’ve done all that and completed your daily chores, you may come to my room and masturbate in front of me.” Dad fell to his knees and kissed her feet.
I am astonished at how generous Mom can be at times. “Geez Mom, you’re going to spoil him!” I blurted.
She looked at me and shrugged.
Mom allowed me to rest while Mike experienced his first day of training. I thought I would sleep forever but woke up after a few hours. I heard my brother yelping in the great room and peeked in. Mom was tying him over the whipping horse. She was using leather thongs and she tugged them very tight. He yelped each time she tugged.
“Stop whimpering,” Mom told him. “Be glad I’m not using wet leather.”
Mike craned his neck back to look at her.
“When wet leather dries it shrinks and gets very tight,” Mom said conversationally. “Its a technique used on unruly male slaves. Its very painful so take care that I don’t decide to use it on you.”
Mike glared at her.
Mom finished tying him down then wrapped a leather thong around his balls. His cock was limp but popped to attention as she snugged the thong. Mom laughed wickedly as she ran her nails lightly up and down it. She taunted him and told him that his cock was going to be hard for several days, and he would not be allowed to cum. Mikey groaned and writhed in his bonds.
Mike’s back and legs were striped with ship marks. Apparently Mom had been working him over all morning.
Mom is an expert at tantalizing men and she touched Mike in ways that would make a dead man tremble with excitement. She tickled his thighs and butt, rubbed her nipples against his skin and bent close so he could feel her breath against his balls. Mike whimpered in frustration, he begged her to touch him, to jack him off.
“Do you want to cum?” she asked softly.
“Yes, Mom. Please!” he yelled.
“First things first,” she said. “I’m not your mother anymore. I’m your mistress now, understand?”
“Jeez Mom!” he cried.
Her whip smacked across his butt hard. A fierce red line appeared. He screamed in surprise.
“Don’t call me anything but mistress,” Mom told him quietly. She whipped his butt two more strokes. He fought his bonds furiously and glared back at her. Mom chuckled. “This is going to be fun.”
I have to admit, I was turned on watching Mom with Mike.
Mom saw me at the door. She came to the door and walked me into the hall way.
“Uh huh. I’m not even tired,” I replied.
“Good. Want to start training your brother?” she asked.
“Ok. First thing about being a dom is never appear before the slaves looking sloppy.”
I glanced down at myself. I was in a tee shirt and panties.
“Uh ok,” I said.
“Never let your slaves see you untidy, without makeup, or poorly dressed. By the end of a session your hair might be a mess and you might be covered with perspiration, but always start out looking like a goddess.”
“Go get cleaned up, do your makeup and put on a nice dress or skirt.” She was in a skirt and a sweater.
“Why aren’t you wearing a dominance outfit?” I asked.
“Something I learned in Spain,” she replied. “We start out fully dressed in normal clothes, but always feminine clothing, no slacks. Enforce your womanhood, never appear masculine and always be tantalizing. The slave will do anything to get a peek up your skirt, even when he’s in pain. As the slave becomes more submissive we wear less and less. We go into leathers late in his training and only let the slave get an occasional peek at our boobs and pussies. You’ll be amazed at what a male will do to get a good look.”
“Your grandmother taught me that,” Mom said. “I helped her train a man once and by the end of three weeks he would have crawled through fire to look at her pussy.”
“On his final day she strapped him into a whipping frame and had me whip him with a horsewhip. She sat on a throne and watched. I whipped him hard and had him screaming his throat out, but as soon as your grandmother uncrossed her legs he went silent.”
“What was she wearing?” I asked.
“Black leather bra and leather knee length skirt. Stockings but no panties.”
“What were you wearing?”
“Black boots, corset and leather panties.”
“I kept whipping the slave,” Mom continued, “But he didn’t seem to feel it, his eyes were on your grandmother’s legs. She slid her skirt up an inch at a time. The slave’s cock was hard as a rock and I believe that I could burnt it with a blowtorch and he wouldn’t have noticed. Your grandmother slid her skirt up until her pussy was just barely peeking out. The slave was straining to see more. She slowly opened her legs, an inch at a time. He was completely entranced and oblivious to the whip. Finally she opened her legs wide apart.”
“Did the slave cum?”
“No, but I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his face.”
“Your grandmother let him look for a long, long time, then she took the whip from me and slid the handle inside her pussy. She masturbated in front of the slave, then allowed him to suck the whip handle. For her finale she sucked his cock until he was close to cumming.”
“Grandmother sucked a slave’s cock?” I gasped.
“A dom can do anything she wants,” Mom told me. “And your grandmother likes cocks. She plays with them for hours. She keeps her personal slaves in a constant state of erection.”
“What about grandpa?” I asked.
“Him too,” Mom said. “He’s one of her slave as well.”
“Is grandpa as submissive as Daddy?” I asked.
“They’re about the same,” she said. “I learned how to control your father by watching my mother dominate my father.”
“Did you ever whip grandpa?”
“Lots of times,” she laughed. “I still do.”
“Would I be allowed to whip Daddy?”
“Certainly, if you make the grade as a dominatrix.”
“Ok, but I just can’t imagine grandmother with a cock in her mouth ” I said doubtfully. I found the idea troubling.
“Its not an act of submission if a woman does it for her own pleasure,” Mom told me. “Remember, a dominatrix lives by her own rules.”
“I guess so,” I shrugged. “Did grandmother let the slave cum in her mouth?”
“No, she brought him close, then masturbated him until he shot cum across the room.”
“Did you make Daddy clean it up?” I giggled.
“No, I was only eighteen,” Mom said. “I hadn’t met him yet. He didn’t become my slave until several years later.”
Mom met Dad in college. He took one look at her and fell in love. She took one look at him and decided that he was going to be her slave for life. She tied him up on their first date and whipped him by the third. By the third week she had him come by her room every morning before class and she would tie his balls with a cord. Poor Daddy had to wear it to class all day and couldn’t take it off until Mom gave him permission. On weekends she made him stay in her room naked save for a collar. He studied naked and when he wasn’t studying he kept house for her.
Even in college she was already a successful dom. She brought clients to her room and tied Daddy in a closet and forced him to listen while she tortured them.
One evening she decided to test his submissiveness. She took Daddy from the closet and made him crawl to her client. She had the client, an older man, strapped to an X frame. She ordered Daddy to suck the client’s cock. Daddy refused and tried to stand up, but Mom whipped him back to his knees. He resisted for a long time but she whipped him until his back and legs were bleeding. The client watched in pure delight and his cock got harder with each stroke. Finally Daddy broke down and agreed to do it. He knelt and took the man’s cock in his mouth. Mom told me it was one of the most thrilling moments of her life.
The client came instantly and Daddy instinctively drew back but she grabbed his collar and held him while the client spurted cum all over his face. Daddy was so humiliated that he cried, but she kept him right where he was. The client was so excited that his cock got hard again and she made Daddy suck it again. Mom rewarded Daddy each time by playing with his cock and making him cum. Eventually she noticed his own cock rising up when her clients arrived. By then he was entirely her slave.
After college Mom opened her own dungeon and made Daddy live in it while he went to law school. She still used him to please her clients and sometimes loaned him out to other cruel ladies. When she told her mother that she was going to marry him, grandmother had her bring him to her house. Mom went home and grandmother kept Daddy in her dungeon for a week. She ran him through the mill, torturing and humiliating him in every possible way. He held up to the torture and submitted perfectly, so she gave Mom permission to keep him.
After Daddy graduated from law school he went to work for a law firm. He did well and worked his way up the ladder. After a few years he decided to open his own practice. He rented office space in a prestigious Boston location but he didn’t like being away from Mom even for a day at work so she allowed him to set up an office at home. She even pretended to be his receptionist.
Daddy would rather be a slave than a lawyer so he practices just enough law to keep up appearances, but when he has no law clients he reverts to being a house slave. (Interestingly, a lot of Mom’s clients, and those of other doms are lawyers. She says lawyers have a lot of guilt and crave punishment.)
Dad’s family has no idea what Mom’s side is like. They are old Boston money and are related to some of the snobbiest families in New England. They are very stuffy and would be horrified if they knew of his secret life. Even though they didn’t come over on the Mayflower, Mom’s side of the family has enough money and social contacts to make them acceptable to Old Bostonians. Grandmother carries herself with the elegance of a queen and when he’s properly dressed my grandfather looks distinguished and dignified.
When the two families get together Mom, grandmother and everyone else act like normal people. Dad gets to wear clothes and act like the man of the house, (except he’s wearing an electronic chastity belt with a huge butt plug under his clothing).
“Do you think that after all these years no one knows that Daddy is your slave?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she said firmly. “His family would disown him in a heartbeat.”
Mom chuckles to tell stories about going to social functions and seeing the looks on the faces of some of the gentlemen when they recognize her.
She told me about their wedding. It was a huge social event and had over a thousand guests At the reception a distinguished gentleman kissed grandmother’s hand then leaned close to whisper how much he had enjoyed his last dominance session. Moments later he introduced his wife, who pretended not to know grandmother, yet later managed to quietly thank grandmother for HER recent torture session and beg for another. To this day neither the husband nor his wife know that they are both grandmother’s clients.
Grandmother is a patron of the Pops and many other cultural institutions but she can rarely attend a banquet or gala without bumping into someone that she has tortured.
Thinking about Daddy’s family reminded me of my twin cousins, Edward and Edwin. They are a year older than me. They are tall, blonde, extremely good looking and insufferably arrogant. I thought how nice it would be to tame them, make them suffer, then humiliate them beyond belief. Mom noticed the far away look in my eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“How nice it would be to enslave my cousins,” I replied.
“Um hmm,” she murmured. “That would be very satisfying indeed. What would you do?”
“I’d whip them until they were completely broken, then I’d whip them for an extra week or two just for fun,” I said. “Then I’d make them suck each other’s cock in front of people.”
“I’d have them so afraid of me that they would kiss each other and fuck each other at a snap of my fingers!” Then I paused, “Except. . .”
“Except what?” mom asked.
“I wonder, can frightened men get erections?”
“Certainly, if they’ve been properly trained. You must use eroticism as a reward just as you use pain and humiliation as a control. When males are conditioned to expect sexual pleasure after pain they will get as hard as rocks, even if they are frightened.”
Mom was suppressing laughter. “And after you get them trained, then what?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “What would you suggest?”
“Two young handsome identical twins would fetch a nice price in the slave market,” she said. “I think they would make splendid pony boys.”
My pussy throbbed at that. The image of Edward and Edwin prancing naked pulling a sulky was delicious. My nipples popped up.
Mom noticed. “Maybe you have more dominance in you than you think,” she said, tapping my breast with her whip.
“Maybe,” I agreed. “I sure would love to train the twins.”
“Your grandmother and I agree,” Mom said. “She doesn’t like them either. We’ve talked about having them kidnapped.”
“You have?” I was aghast.
“Just in conversation,” Mom said. “But your grandmother would love to get her hands on them too. She loves breaking arrogant males.”
“Would you bring them here?”
“No, probably to her place in the country.”
Grandmother’s country estate in the Adirondacks is beautiful. It sits on several hundred acres of lush rolling hills. Her house is large and elegant and equipped with a dungeon in the attic. There are several unoccupied old farmhouses on her property and she converted one to a stable for pony boys and girls. My sister and I love to watch her train pony boys.
“Tell you what,” Mom said. “I’m not making any promises, but if you do well training your brother perhaps we’ll kidnap your cousins and let you train them.”
My pussy was tingling. “That would be fun,” I said. “But I’m not sure about selling them, after all, they’re still family.”
“Oh, we wouldn’t sell them permanently,” Mom said. “We would break them to slavery then loan them out to a few discreet friends who appreciate a good matched pair. After a few months we’d let them go.”
“What if they told people, or went to the police?”
“Believe me, humiliated men don’t want anyone to know about it. And besides, we have ways to insure their silence.”
“Photos, video tapes, that sort of thing. Or we could keep them blindfolded or you could wear a mask. They wouldn’t know who kidnapped them.”
“Have you ever sold anyone into permanent slavery?” I asked.
“Grandmother has,” she replied.
“It was similar to the situation in Spain that I told you about. A woman’s fiancee jilted her and ran off with another woman. The woman came to your grandmother and asked how best to humiliate him. She had a lot of money, and connections with the kind of people who could arrange a kidnapping.”
“Wow,” I said.
Mom nodded. “She had the man kidnapped and brought to your grandmother’s dungeon. He was kept hooded for weeks. Your grandmother tortured him into submission, then trained him for weeks. It was one of the few times she was able to train an unwilling slave. She derived so much pleasure from it that she refused to accept payment from the woman.
The lady didn’t participate or even watch his training. She waited until it was complete then watched as grandmother put him through a demonstration which included some serious torture and pain and then she wasn’t happy.”
“The slave’s cock was hard to entire time, and she did not want him to enjoy it.”
“What did she expect?”
“I believe that the woman was so angry at the man that she forgot that grandmother’s techniques involve sexual methods. Your grandmother had to remind her that she’s a dominatrix, not a prison guard.”
“Did she whip him or anything?”
“No. When she was satisfied that the man had been broken she wanted him sold into permanent slavery. Your grandmother called a select few people around the country and invited them to an auction. He was sold to a woman from Florida and flown down in a private airplane. She kept him in bondage for years.”
“My God!” I whispered.
“Real bondage,” Mom emphasized. “Not game playing bondage.”
“Oh yes, there was sex, otherwise he’d probably have gone insane. She used him for sexual pleasures, but only permitted him to cum once in a while. The rest of the time he was used and abused by her and her friends. She could make him so horny that he would submit to any humiliation or pain.”
“After about ten years he became listless and broken in spirit, so his owner dressed him in a nice suit, gave him a large sum of money and told him he was free, then had him taken to the airport.”
“What did he do?”
“He sat down and stared at the floor.”
“The poor man.”
“His owner had people watching him. After several hours they approached him and he begged to be taken back to his dungeon.”
“Did she take him back?”
“Briefly. But she’d lost interest in him, so she sold him to another woman who took him to Chicago. He’s been her slave since then.”
“Was he still listless?”
“His new owner is a little kinder than his first. She was gentle with him at first and sort of rehabilitated him. She is more generous with his orgasms and he perked back up.”
“What a kind lady,” I laughed. “He’s still there? What is his life like?’
“He’s kept naked and in chains, sleeps in a cell, like your father he works around the house, and is tortured when the mood strikes her.”
“No bondage parties?”
“No, his owner lives quietly at home. Whatever she does to him she does in private. When she has guests he is locked away out of sight. The only other people who even know he exists are her household staff.”
“Isn’t she worried they might talk, or are they slaves too?”
“I don’t know if they are slaves, but they are discreet. They are certain to be into the scene. No straight servants could be employed in such a household.”
“That’s true,” I said, thinking of grandmother’s servants.
“Apparently he is the lowest in that household and the other servants are allowed to use him sexually, especially when his mistress is away. She travels a lot.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“Your grandmother was intrigued by his situation so she stayed in touch with his first owner. After he was sold, she contacted the second lady and introduced herself. They correspond from time to time.”
“How long has he been a slave?”
“Over forty years,” Mom said. “He’s almost seventy years old now. His mistress has grown fond of him and has offered him his freedom several times. He always refuses and begs her to keep him.”
I imagined a gray haired old man hanging by his wrists being whipped by a sweet little old white haired lady.
I was unconsciously rubbing my breasts. Mom tapped my nipple lightly.
“Which would you rather do?” she asked. “Be a slave the rest of your life, or own slaves for the rest of your life?”
“Can I have Mikey for the rest of his life?” I asked.
“No, you’ll have to find your own slaves.”
“Could I have the twins?”
“We’ll see.” Mom gave me a hug. “Now go get cleaned up and lets get you started on your brother.”
I washed up and got dressed in a nice sweater and skirt. I even put on bobby socks and flats. In the great room. Mom had Mikey still bent over the horse. He seemed to be in a dull trance. Mom stepped away and motioned for me to spank him. He didn’t react when I caressed his butt lightly, but his head jerked up when I slapped it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. I smacked him hard for that. Mom nodded approvingly.
“Don’t speak unless I give you permission,” I told him.
“Screw you dammit!” he shouted. “Untie me.”
“Uh oh,” I said. “That calls for punishment.”
Mom handed me whip. It was fairly light. I shook my head and selected a longer one.
“I told you not to speak,” I said sweetly. Then I slashed the whip across his thighs.
Mikey screamed like a girl and my pussy went hot! I hit him again and he struggled so hard that the horse almost tipped over. After ten blows he was shrieking and I was so excited that I wanted to touch myself. Mom was watching carefully. She stepped up and signaled for me to stop.
“Play with his cock for a minute or two,” she instructed me. “Just enough to get him hard.”
I caressed Mike’s balls, then ran my nails along his cock. Sure enough even though he was still twisting in his ropes, it got hard very quickly. I looked at mom questioningly. She made a squeezing motion.
I grasped Mike’s cock and squeezed, gently at first, then harder. His whimpers subsided into moans. I pumped my hand up and down his cock a few strokes and his groans changed from pain to pleasure. He stopped writhing in pain and was now humping his hips up and down. I slowed my hand, then stopped. He moaned in frustration.
“Please don’t stop,” he begged.
“You were told not to speak,” I reminded him. “Now you have to be punished again.”
I hit him with the whip. He burst into tears. My pussy throbbed harder and I hit him a couple of more times.
“Wonderful,” Mom laughed. “You’re getting the hang of it. Show no mercy.”
I whipped my brother a few more strokes, then let him calm down and went back to toying with his cock. No matter how much pain he was in his cock got hard every time I touched it. It went soft when I whipped him but got hard with the lightest touch. I marveled at how predictable he was.
“Males are easy to control,” Mom told me. Her method of training men was to discuss them as if they weren’t there. She treated Mike as if he were a piece of meat. She showed me the best place to apply the whip and how to properly squeeze a male’s balls.
“There is a fine line on inflicting pain to these,” Mom told me as she held Mike’s balls. “You want to cause pain, but not so much that the male will lose sexual tension. Keep him aroused.”
I practiced hurting my brother’s balls. Squeeze hard, but not too hard, dig in with my nails, but only around the base. If the cock starts to soften, play with it lightly for a moment. Mike whimpered and groaned, but otherwise endured my experiments quietly. As time went by his cock stayed harder longer, even when I increased the pain. Mom decided that I’d made a good start and told me to let his balls alone and whip him some more.
Mike was enjoying my attentions to his balls but let out a yell when he felt the whip again. He said some injudicious words that no boy ought to say to his loving sister, let alone a dominatrix, so I poured on the whip. He was sobbing an apology within minutes.
Mike stopped talking back by the first hour. At the end of the second hour his cock would get hard as soon as I stopped whipping him. I didn’t even have to touch it, It just popped erect just from anticipation. Very Pavlovian.
Later in the day Mom told me to let Mike rest. We removed him from the whipping horse, tied his hands behind his back and walked him to a cell. He followed obediently and collapsed onto the bunk. Mom didn’t untie his wrists but she ordered Daddy to feed him.
I went to my room and closed the door. I was so aroused that I slipped my hand inside my panties and played with my pussy. I was rolling on my bed fingering myself when Mom walked in.
I gasped with embarrassment.
“You don’t have to stop,” Mom told me.
“I was so excited that I had to do something,” I mumbled.
“I understand completely,” she laughed. “I get excited when I’m torturing somebody so I do it all the time. If a dominant doesn’t get excited then she’s in the wrong career.”
She started to leave. “If you want to play with your pussy go right ahead and don’t be ashamed. Remember, a dom may do anything she wants.”
“Even in front of you?” I asked.
“Of course. Remember, I’ve masturbated in front of slaves, it’s a terrific way to arouse them. So has my mother and grandmother and we’ve worked slaves together.”
I remembered Mom telling me how grandmother pushed the handle of a whip up her pussy while a slave watched.
“If you intend to become a dominant woman you can’t be shy,” Mom continued.
I looked at her for a moment. “Ok, I’ll do it if you will too.”
I slipped my panties off, sat against the headboard and spread my legs. Mom chuckled and reached under her skirt. She dropped her panties to the floor, then sat in a chair and spread her knees. She touched her pussy and I touched mine. I locked eyes with Mom and we began.
I’d never let anyone see me masturbate before and discovered that it was a real turn on to be watched, especially by my mother. I got hotter and that made Mom get hotter and soon we were both cumming like crazy.
When we calmed down and our breathing was normal, Mom gave me a kiss.
“Next time you feel like doing that make your father watch. Its fun to see the look on a male’s face while he watches a lady play with herself.”
We resumed Mike’s training that evening. This time I didn’t use a whip, I used my hand to spank him. Between spankings I caressed his butt and cock. He was very responsive when I ran my fingers in the crack of his bottom but he went wild when Mom and I danced our nails lightly inside his thighs, in fact, the little creep managed to cum when we were doing that.
Mom was about to wrap things up for the evening. She opened her blouse and bent over Mike’s back. She was rubbing her nipples across his skin while I tickled his balls, and without warning his cock started spurting!
I jumped back in astonishment. I was angry that he was cumming without permission. I slapped his butt and yelled at him to stop!
Mom clapped her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh. The more I spanked Mike the more his cock spurted. I finally realized what I was doing.
“You’re only making it worse,” Mom said. “He’s enjoying it.”
“He’s not supposed to do that.” I said indignantly.
Mom’s face was bright red with her effort to stifle her laughter.
I was utterly flabbergasted. “What do we do?” I asked Mom.
“Nothing,” she croaked. “Once it gets started you can’t stop it.”
I looked and she was right. Mike was humping up and down on the horse while his cock spurted an unending stream of cum.
“That’s not right!” I yelled angrily.
Mom lost it. She burst into laughter and ran out of the room. Mike was so involved with his damn orgasm that I don’t think he heard a word. I was so annoyed that I left him tied to the horse all night.
We resumed Mike’s training the next morning. But first I made him clean up the great room, including his dried cum.
We kept him naked and locked in his cell unless he was being tortured. We alternated pain with teasing and within two days his cock was staying hard most of the time, even during whippings. On the third day Mom buckled on a dildo and screwed him in the ass. I guess she decide to take it easy on him because the dildo wasn’t very big. Never the less, he didn’t like it and protested at the top of his lungs. Mom paid no attention and fucked him until she got tired. She let Mike rest for a while, then she buckled the dildo onto me and let me fuck him.
I was a little hesitant at first, but I liked the feeling of power it gave me. The first time seemed to have broken Mike because when I screwed him he just lay across the horse passively.
Mom interrupted me and told me that no slave in training should be allowed to just lay around. I had to keep his interest. I withdrew the dildo and played with his cock and balls until he got hard, then resumed fucking him. When his cock went soft I played with it again. I kept this routine for about an hour.
“He might not like being fucked up his ass,” Mom told me. “But you can condition him to enjoy it by playing with his cock. Eventually he’ll even respond to being screwed by men.”
Poor Mikey had tears in eyes.
I found that fucking like a male is hard work. My lower back was sore afterwards.
We worked Mike until eight o’clock, then allowed him to collapse into his cell.
The next morning we went back to the routine of spanking and whipping Mike interspersed with teasing his cock and balls. He was already so conditioned that his cock got hard instantly. Toward mid day Mom screwed him with another dildo, this one a little larger, and this time she played with his cock while she pumped in and out of his ass. She lay across his body with her breasts rubbing his back. She fucked him slowly and masturbated him at the same time. She brought him close but wouldn’t let him cum After lunch I did the same thing. By late afternoon his cock got hard as soon as one of us approached wearing a strap on.
Mom changed his position. She tied him on his back on a table with his legs apart and in the air. When she fucked him she could play with his cock easier. Mike loved it and stared at Mom all through his ordeal, but strangely he wouldn’t look at me when it was my turn.
Another advantage to tying Mike on his back was that Mom taught me how to pluck a male’s pubic hair. She trimmed it with a pair of scissors then went to work with tweezers. Mike yelped the first few dozen times, but Mom stroked his cock and he quieted. We took turns until his entire crotch was nude. Mom preferred plucking a slave’s pubic hair rather than shaving. She said that a few days after shaving the stubble began to grow and she didn’t like touching stubbly crotches, male or female.
After plucking his pubic hair Mom decide that we would shave his legs too. Mike liked that, his cock stayed hard on its own.
Every day Mom and I wore slightly more revealing clothing. Our skirts got shorter and we stopped wearing bras. Mom wore simple blouses and left most of the buttons undone. I usually wore skin tight tee shirts. Without bras our boobs jiggled a lot when we fucked Mike. I liked to watch Mom’s boobs bounce when she was screwing him and loved the way mine felt.
One afternoon Mom decide we deserved a break. We tied Mike to a post and left him there while we went shopping. She took me to a store that sold fetish gear and bought a couple of domination outfits.
The two women working in the store knew Mom and greeted her warmly. (I later learned that my grandmother was a part owner.) Mom told them I was looking for my first dominance outfit. They rolled out the red carpet and showed us everything in stock.
I tried on several outfits and settled on two, one in standard black leather and the other in rich green. I chose the green because it matched my eyes.
The black outfit was very sexy. It consisted of a black bustier and matching leather panties. It came with a stiff leather collar that rose up in the back and opened into a sort of lapel on the front. It could be snapped onto the front of the bustier or worn loose. (It made me look like a vampire.) Mom added leather opera length gloves, several pair of black stockings and my very first pair of spike heels. I tried the ensemble on but was too embarrassed to wear it out into the store. The manager took me into a back room where I could walk around in privacy. The shoes were hard to walk in and I wobbled a little. I almost fell and the other woman rushed to catch me. She was large and very gay, a real butch lesbian. When she caught me she held me in her arms until I was steady on my feet. I was very conscious of her breasts against my arm. Mom laughed and jokingly told her to hold me up until I got used to the shoes. The woman blushed and released me.
I tried on the green outfit next. It had a stiff bra with matching mini skirt and panties. The buckles and spikes were gold. We bought green stockings but the store didn’t carry shoes in green. The sales lady suggested red shoes and they worked out just fine. We bought a pair of red leather panties too. I tried on the outfit and this time I wore it into the store. There were several customers in the store and the room went silent. The lesbian sales lady stared at me open mouthed. Her nipples were nearly poking holes in her tee shirt, and a tough looking older man walked over and asked if I would like to make a thousand dollars for the night. I didn’t know what to say, but Mom just snorted and waved him away.
The sales lady was staring at me with such open lust that I became a little nervous.
“Roll your eyes back into your head Agnes,” Mom said.
“Anything she wants,” Agnes breathed hungrily. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you kidding?” Mom asked in amused disbelief.
“No I’m not,” the woman said earnestly.
“Hmm, let’s see,” Mom said teasingly. “She’s not in business, so money is out. I know, if you want to eat my daughter’s pussy, you’ll have to wear a dress first.”
The store manager burst into laughter. “What do you think Agnes, is she worth it?”
“I’d wear pink gingham with ruffles,” Agnes whispered. “Just to get a peek.”
Mom pealed with laughter.
Agnes was very butch. She was thick waisted with huge heavy breasts, large arms and very short hair. Her face was square and masculine. She wasn’t fat but she was solidly built, like a female tank. I felt small and dainty next to her. I felt sorry for her being teased by Mom and the other woman, and I was turned on by her raw desire for me. My nervousness went away. I took her by the hand.
“Come on,” I said. “You’re going to get more than just a look.” I led her into the dressing room.
Everyone in the store stared at us. Mom raised her eyebrows with a mixture of astonishment and amusement. I smiled back and closed the door.
Inside I faced Agnes and pointed to the floor. She dropped to her knees and I stepped close. She took a deep breath and lifted my skirt. She nuzzled the front of my panties with her nose, then slid them down. She stared at my pussy.
“Oh, My God,” she whispered. She pressed her forehead against my tummy for a few minutes, then wrapped her arms around my hips and hugged me. She rested her cheek against my pussy and pulled me close. She was worshipping me! I rested my hands on her head, then entwined my fingers in her hair. I grasped a handful and gently shook her head from side to side. She looked up at me adoringly.
This huge woman could break me in two, yet I was in command. What a rush!
I patted her on the head and told her to let me go.
I stepped back and sat on the bench with my knees primly together. I placed my hands between my knees and pretended to pull my legs apart. She stared hungrily. I paused.
“First my toes,” I said. “Then my pussy.”
She bent and kissed my feet, first one then the other. Her eyes were closed and she made little whimpers as she licked the tips of my toes.
“That’s enough,” I said. She straightened up.
I put my hands inside my knees again, delicately, with my pinkies pointing upward and opened my legs wide apart. Agnes lunged forward and buried her face in my pussy.
Her mouth was hot and damp and I felt her tongue deep inside. I had a small orgasm that first moment and couldn’t restrain a small gasp. Agnes heard and thrust her tongue deeper.
I realized that everyone outside could see her feet under the raised door. I wanted them to know exactly what was going on so I extended my legs so that my feet were visible too.
Agnes was an experienced lesbian and knew exactly how to please a woman. She grasped my upper thighs and lifted my legs up and wider apart. I leaned back until I rested on my neck. I squirmed around and draped my legs over her shoulders, then closed my eyes and enjoyed the wonderful things her tongue was doing to me.
Agnes made me cum in a most delightful way. Afterwards she sat on her heels and looked at me like a big faithful dog. I patted her on the head again.
“Good girl,” I said condescendingly. “Maybe some day I’ll let you do that again.”
“Any time you want,” she said.
“I just might take you home and whip you first.”
“Mistress, you may do anything you want to me,” she breathed heavily.
“Anything? I might be very cruel,” I warned.
“Anything you want,” she said in almost a sob. To prove her point she yanked her shirt up and thrust out her breasts. She dug her nails into them and slowly raked downward leaving huge red scratches.
That was the first time anyone called me mistress. I liked the sound of it.
“Good little dyke,” I said. “Now help me get dressed.”
Mom was leaning on the counter talking to the store manager when I walked out. She grinned when Agnes followed carrying my outfit. Agnes fussed around me like a mother hen as she rang up the sale and carefully wrapped up my purchases. Then she insisted on carrying them to the car. She stood on the sidewalk and stared at us as we drove away.
“Did you have a good time with Agnes?” Mom asked as we drove home.
“I may have just recruited my first servant,” I told her.
“Now you know the power of your pussy,” Mom said.
“Yes,” I said. “That woman said I could torture her just so she can lick my pussy again. She does a good job.”
“She’s had years of practice.”
“I just might decide to make her my slave,” I said.
“That would be a rather notable achievement,” Mom said dryly. “Considering that Agnes is known in the scene as a tough bull dyke. She’s a cruel dominant and usually tortures sweet little girls like you.”
“Not any more,” I said. “She clawed her own boobs to prove her devotion.”
“No kidding? Interesting, very interesting,” Mom mused. “You are seventeen and Agnes has to be thirty five. Maybe you have what it takes after all.”
“When we’ve finished with Mike, I want to invite Agnes to the house,” I said. “And I’m going to make her wear a dress.”
“I’d love to see that,” Mom chuckled. “I’ll bet she hasn’t worn a dress since she was six years old.”
“I’ll make her obey me,” I said. “Just wait and see.”
“Want to know when you have true dominance over another person?” Mom asked.
“It comes when you can make them submit to something that they hate,” she said. “And make them like it.”
“Such as turning Agnes into a girly girl?”
“Just wait,” I said. “I’m going to do it.”
“That would be something,” Mom chuckled. “Turning Agnes Dworsky into a sweet little femme.”
“I’ll go one better,” I said. “I’ll make Agnes fuck a man and pretend to like it so convincingly that he’ll never guess that she is a lesbian. And she’ll do it just because I tell her to.”
“If you can manage that you’ll get the award for dominatrix of the year.”
We drove in silence for a while.
“What exactly is the award for dom of the year?” I asked
“Its a gold statuette like the Oscars in Hollywood,” Mom said instantly.
I laughed. “Let me guess, its called the ‘Dommie’ right?”
“Nope. Its called the ‘Gracie’. Its named after your great grandmother.”
“Because she was the first recipient?”
“That and because she modeled for the statuette.”
I shrieked with laughter.
“And where do they give out these awards?” I asked.
“In the White House every June,” Mom said with a straight face. “In the basement of course. They keep it quiet.”
I was laughing so hard that I was gasping for breath. “Why the White House?”
Mom looked at me in mock surprise. “Surely you must know how many wives of presidents were dominatrixes.”
“I must have missed that part in my history class.”
“It all started with Martha Washington,” Mom said.
I collapsed onto the floor board.
At the end of a week Mikey was completely docile. He didn’t speak without permission, he didn’t look into our eyes and he obeyed every order instantly. Mom decided it was time for me to wear a dominance costume. I chose the green one.
Mike’s eyes widened and his cock popped right up when I walked into the room wearing my new outfit. I stood in front of his cell and allowed him to look me up and down, then I squatted and gave him a nice peek at the crotch of my panties. His cock was long and hard.
I opened his cell and motioned for him to crawl out. He obeyed and I clipped a leash to his collar. I led him into the great room and walked several laps around the floor. Mikey scurried along on his hands and knees. I quickened the pace until he was practically running. He didn’t complain and when he began to slow down I cracked a riding crop across his butt. That made his cock pop to attention again.
I’d set up an X cross and led him to it. I pointed to the arms and he instantly stood up and placed his wrists in the proper position for bondage. He spread his legs without being told. I strapped him to the cross very tightly.
I caressed his cock lightly, bent close and pursed my lips as if I was about to kiss it. He strained forward with every ounce of strength. I moved my mouth closer and blew gently on his cock, then I licked the tip of my finger and touched it to the tip. He sobbed in frustration when I straightened up.
“Would you like to cum?” I asked.
“Yes,” he sobbed.
“All right. Now I’m not going to make any promises,” I said. “But if you are good today, then I just might jack you off. Would you like that?”
“Good boy. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to beg me to punish you, and then I want you to thank me for every stroke with my whip and every spank with hand. No matter how much it hurts, you have to ask for another blow then thank me for it. And it has to be sincere. Can you do it?”
My big brother called me Mistress. I liked the sound of that.
I started with a long horse whip. I cracked it a few times, then pointed it toward him. He looked at it fearfully, then swallowed hard.
“Please Mistress, may I feel the whip?” He sounded quite sincere.
I whipped Mike for about an hour. I took it slow and gave him time to feel each stroke. True to my orders he thanked me for each one and asked for another. I paused from time to time and played with his cock. His cock remained very, very hard and I could sense that he was on the edge of cumming, so I had to be careful.
Mom popped in from time to time to watch, but she had turned Mike’s training over to me. She didn’t speak but nodded in approval of what I was doing.
I took breaks about every hour and called Daddy in to give Mike food and drink. Enduring torture is very strenuous on a slave and Mom told me to make sure that we kept his strength up. For marathon sessions a dom must make sure that the slaves don’t get dehydrated. During the breaks I commanded Daddy to wipe Mike’s body down with a damp wash cloth and make sure that he washed Mike’s cock. I watched to be sure that Daddy didn’t stroke Mike hard enough to make him cum.
I couldn’t tell if Daddy felt sorry for Mike or not. Maybe he accepted Mike’s fate, but Daddy is a well trained slave and he never allowed his feelings to show.
I kept Mike on the cross until lunch, then told Daddy to feed him and lock him back in his cell. I gave Mike a couple of hours to rest and decided to take a nap myself.
After my nap I looked in on Mom. She was watching television and Daddy was curled up next to her on the floor. His hands were tightly cuffed behind his back and his head rested in her lap. She was idly caressing his hair.
I went to the great room and took Mike out of his cell. I laid him on a cross and strapped him tightly. I watched carefully and saw that his cock got harder the tighter I stretched him. I decided to see if he got turned on by bondage alone. I walked around the cross and turned the ratchets one notch at a time. When he was gasping in pain I gave them one more click. His cock was pointing at the ceiling like a flag pole.
“Do you like being tied so tightly?” I asked him.
I intended to hoist the cross upright, but decided to hold off. I straddled his face and allowed him to look at my panties. My green ones were damp from the morning workout so I’d changed to the red ones. His eyes flew to my crotch. I let him look for a few minutes then lowered my pussy to an inch above his face. He strained upward with his tongue and I giggled with delight at his frantic efforts to lick me.
I teased him for a long time. I wriggled my crotch above him, caressed my pussy through my panties, slipped my hand inside them and even pulled them to the side for a split second. I was so close that his eyes were almost crossed as he strained to see.
“Let your head rest on the cross,” I told him. “And don’t move any part of your body.”
I slipped my fingers inside my panties. I pushed my finger up into my pussy and got it wet, then slowly lowered it to Mike’s lips. I permitted him to lick my fingers, then suck on them.
“If my finger was a cock, you would suck it for me, wouldn’t you?” I crooned.
“Oh, yes Mistress, I would,” he panted.
“Would you suck any cock I ordered?” I asked softly.
“Even Daddy’s cock?”
He paused for a moment.
“Well?” I demanded. “Answer me.”
“Yes Mistress,” he groaned. “I’d suck his too.”
It was total surrender! I was thrilled!
“Good boy,” I said softly. “I’m going to make you prove it later, but for now I’m going to reward you just for saying that.”
I lowered my pussy onto his face.
Mike made a crooning sound deep in his throat. I let more of my weight rest on him and the croons got deeper and happier. I rocked back and forth over his mouth and nose and he writhed in delight. I could feel his mouth moving against the fabric of my panties. I was getting turned on, partly from Mike’s mouth and partly from the power I had over him.
I stood up. Mike looked at me in disappointment.
“Its all right,” I said. “I’m going to be even nicer to you.”
I slipped my panties off. Mike stared at my pussy. I stepped onto his chest. He gasped in pure delight. My heels made deeps marks in his skin. I rocked my foot up and down, then ground my toe against his nipple. Mike was breathing so hard that it was difficult to keep my balance on his heaving chest. I didn’t want to topple off so I jumped up, landed on his chest, then bounced off like I was on a trampoline. Mike exhaled in a long wheezing gasp.
“Ooh, you must have liked that,” I said.
“Yesssss,” he whispered.
“I saw some shoes that have tacks on the soles pointing straight down,” I told him. “And the heels are pointed like real daggers. Would you like me to walk on you with a pair?”
“Maybe I can talk Mom into buying a pair too. Would you like both of us to walk on you?”
Mikes eyes seemed to glaze over. He nodded faintly.
I nudged his cock with my toe.
“And if I invited Grandmother to join in, would you like that too?”
Mike didn’t answer, but the way he writhed on that cross told me all I needed to know.
“You are terrible,” I teased. “Its bad enough that you are looking up my skirt, but you want to peek up Mom’s and Grandmothers too?”
The way he strained every muscle in his body told me that my brother was about to cum. I was tempted to keep talking dirty just to see if I really could make him cum. The temptation was terrific, but I decided to stick with my plan for the day. I shut up.
I walked across the room and sat in Mom’s throne. I let Mike calm down before I resumed.
He lay with his eyes closed for so long that I thought he’d fallen asleep. I nudged his cock with my shoe again. His eyes opened.
“Have you stopped thinking all those naughty thoughts about your mother and grandmother?” I asked.
He shook his head slowly from side to side. I shrugged.
“At least you are honest.” I straddled his face again and lowered myself back down. His tongue was waiting for me. It was warm and moist and very energetic.
I rode Mike’s tongue for half an hour. He worked enthusiastically to make me cum. I wanted to, and came close, but then thought better. I didn’t want to give him even that little bit of power. I decided to increase his helplessness my making him feel inadequate. I raised myself off him.
“Hmm, you aren’t very good at eating a girl’s pussy,” I told him. “I’ll have to train you better.”
“I’m sorry Mistress,” he said. “I’ll try to do better, I promise.”
I hoisted the cross up and tilted it forward so that he hung from his straps. He yelped from the change of position. His weight now rested on his wrists alone. His hands and feet were already blue from the tight straps, now they were worse. But his cock stayed hard
“I’m going to whip you for an hour or two,” I told him. “And if you take your whipping bravely, I might just make you cum.”
His eyes nearly rolled back when I said that.
I took down several whips and showed them to him. He nodded eagerly when I asked if he wanted them all. I began whipping him slowly and steadily. I worked methodically over every part of his body. His winced and yelped a few times, but mostly he was able to keep quiet. After a couple of hours I decided to give him his reward.
I tied a leather thong around his balls and another one around the base of his cock. I tightened them and attached weights. It was fun making the weights rock and watching his face. After a while the skin on his cock was cool to the touch, although he was still very hard.
I ran my fingertips slowly along his cock, caressed his balls gently, brought my face close and let him feel my breath. I even touched the tip of his cock with my tongue for a split second. Then I walked away.
I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a snack. I read a magazine as I munched my sandwich, then I went back upstairs.
Mike was still as hard as a rock. He looked at me eagerly as I walked in. I looked at him thoughtfully, as if trying to decide something.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “I can’t decide to make you wait a few more hours, or let you cum now. If I wait I won’t punish you any more today, but if you want to cum now you have to ask me to use the bullwhip. Ten strokes.”
“Now!” he gasped. “Whip me hard Mistress1”
“Well, If you insist.”
I took down that horrid bull whip. It was heavy and when I swung it around it was hard to control. Mom told me that someone who doesn’t know how to use a big whip can injure themselves. I spun it slowly until it built up speed.
Mike watched with a mixture of fear and lust on his face. I spun the whip until it made a whirring sound. Then I hit him.
He tensed and clenched his teeth, but made no sound. The second blow was worse and by the fifth he was groaning. I made him scream at number eight and nine. So far all the strokes had hit his upper body, but on number ten I went for his cock. I was lucky and got it squarely. Mike’s cock bounced sideways with the blow, but he didn’t scream. He got a far away look and I wondered if he might cum from the whip. I was tempted to hit his cock again. I watched him for a moment, but he settled down, opened his eyes and looked at me.
“Thank you Mistress, may I please have another.”
I could have kissed him.
I dropped the bull whip, stepped close and opened the top of my costume. I rubbed my nipples across the end of his cock for a few minutes, then took a firm grip on it. I stroked it slowly and gently, then increased the speed and pressure. It didn’t take long. Mike suddenly went tense and roared deep in his throat. His cock pulsed in my hand and spurted cum like from a fire hose. I was so enthralled watching his face that I forgot to move aside. His cum splashed against my throat and chest. For a split second I was angry with myself, then remembered what Mom had said about a dom doing what ever she enjoys. I liked Mike’s cum on my skin, so I aimed his cock at my face and pumped harder.
Mike spurted cum for what must have been a full minute. I was soaked. He strained against his bonds and yelled at the top of his lungs, then suddenly collapsed and went quiet. I heard hands clapping and stepped back.
Mom stood in the doorway applauding. Daddy knelt beside her holding a tray piled with a stack of hot damp towels.
“That was delightful,” she said. “I’m proud of my little girl.”
I blushed with pride.
Mom came into the room and motioned Dad forward. He offered the tray to me. I washed my face and chest, then rubbed a towel over Mike’s crotch. He didn’t move.
“I think he’s fainted,” Mom observed. “I’ve never seen a male cum that hard before.”
“Is he ok?” I asked.
“He’ll be fine,” Mom said. She put her arm around my waist. “Come on, Let’s open a bottle of wine to celebrate. Then we’ll call your grandmother and tell her the news.”
I turned to my father. “Daddy you wait here until Mike wakes up, then put him back in his cell and give him something to eat. After that you can clean up this mess.”
My Mom The Dom
Mom called grandmother and invited her to come see a surprise. Grams arrived with her usually flair, in a chauffeur driven limo and accompanied by two male slaves.
She walked into the house like a queen. Her slaves, who were stark naked and in chains followed, as did her chauffeur who was nude from the waist down. Grams led all three by thin chains attached to rings in their penises.
Grams stopped to admire the garden, unconcerned by the fact that her slaves were in full view of any neighbors who might happen to look out of their windows. I waited on the back porch while she strolled through the flowers, occasionally bending to look closely at some flower or other. She kept a tension on the chains and her slaves watched closely, ready to move when she did. Those penis rings can be painful and they could never relax their vigilance. Finally she came into the house.
Grams gave me a big hug.
“So, I hear that you are a full fledged dominatrix now,” she said.
“Close, but I don’t know if I’m fully fledged,” I answered.
“Well, let’s just put you to the test, shall we?”
I led her to the parlor where Mom was waiting. They sat down and mom rang the tea bell for the maid to come in. The maid was Daddy of course. He was in a frilly French maid costume with a very short skirt, heels, stockings and even a bouffant wig. He minced into the room carrying a tray. Daddy can walk in heels (Mom trained him years ago) but he was in hobbles, manacles and a very large gag. The hobbles made him take very short steps. His cock and balls were tightly strapped in thin leather, and he was very hard. His cock peeked out from under the skirt.
Grams waited until he poured tea, then motioned him close. She gestured for him to lift his skirt, and she examined his penis. She noticed fresh red welts on it.
“Hmm, it looks like you’ve been punishing him,” she said to Mom.
“No, she has,” Mom answered nodding toward me.
Grams mouth opened. “You whipped your father’s cock?” she laughed.
“I sure did,” I said proudly. Daddy hung his head in shame.
Grams handed me her riding crop. “Show me.”
“Ok Daddy, raise your skirt higher,” I commanded. He did as I ordered then stood at attention.
I brought the crop down hard on his cock. Daddy groaned in his gag but managed to stay still. I gave him several more hard strokes, then looked at my grandmother.
“Not bad,” she nodded approvingly. “Give my boys a few too.”
Her slaves were kneeling in the hallway. I ordered them into the parlor and lined them up against the wall. Their cocks were already quite hard.
“Should I tie their hands?” I asked Grams.
“No, my boys are trained to take a whipping with being in restraint,” she said. “Just order them to clasp their hands behind their heads.”
I snapped my fingers at them and theirs hands went to the backs of their necks. One of them, the youngest man (who was actually very cute) looked pleading at Grams for a second.
“Later,” she told him, “If you take this well.”
He nodded, took a deep breath and came to attention.
“What was all that?” Mom asked.
“Oh, he absolutely adores being tied up,” Grandmother told her. “He was just asking for a little favor.”
“If he takes his punishment well I will tie him so tightly that he will have trouble breathing when we get home.”
“For how long?”
“All night,” Grams answered. Her slave’s cock got even bigger and he trembled in excitement..
“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” she said indifferently, “But if he lives through it there will be a puddle of semen under him in the morning.”
The slave’s chest swelled in pride. Grams nodded for me to proceed.
I grasped the chauffeur’s cock and pulled him forward a step. He closed his eyes, then thrust his pelvis forward. I took careful aim and smacked the crop onto his cock. The penis was knocked down, then flipped up, bounced for a moment then came to a stop pointing straight out. The chauffeur didn’t make a sound. I hit him again.
I struck the chauffeur’s cock twenty times then stopped. It was covered with red welts and was drooping just a little. His face showed his pain but he never made a sound.
I reached for his cock but it got rigidly hard again.
“I’m impressed,” Mom laughed.
I pushed the chauffeur back and grabbed the older slave by his balls.
“Ok grandpa, it’s your turn.”
He stepped forward.
I looked closely at his penis. It was very hard and I was interested in looking at it. It was gnarly looking, with ancient scars and welt. I didn’t think that a man his age could get that hard, much less stay that way for any length of time. I slapped it a few times from side to side, and it got bigger. “Is he on drugs?” I asked my grandmother.
“No, your grandfather is simply quite virile, even at his age.”
I looked into his face.
“Ready?” I asked.
He didn’t speak and his stayed straight ahead, but he nodded slightly. I slashed the riding crop onto his manhood.
Grandpa took his beating silently, but by the last stroke he did wince and his body was shaking. I felt sorry for him so I stroked his penis a few times. Even red and bruised it was very firm and I liked the feel of it. I continued to slide my hand over it until Grams told me to stop.
“Don’t let him cum,” she warned. “He’s not permitted.”
Grandfather looking resignedly at his wife and sighed.
“Two more months,” she answered. “It’s been two already.”
“Oh, then I had better be careful.” I ran the tip of my finger along the top of his penis. His chest rose and he hissed in passion.
“That’s not being careful,” Grams said sternly. “You could cause him to spurt by doing that.”
“I that true grandpa? Could you cum?” I teased. He scrunched his eyes closed and nodded miserably.
“Then no more touch for you.” I pushed him back in line and turned to the young slave.
“Now you know what this one wants,” Grams told me, “And I’ll grant his request if he can take fifty of your hardest blows on his penis without moving or making a sound. But if you can get him to move or cry out I’ll take you shopping at the most expensive jewelry store in town.”
“Ok, you’re on,” I told her. I grasped the slave’s balls as tightly as I could and tugged him forward. His face showed no emotion so I squeezed harder. Still no response, so I put both hands on him and bore down with all my strength. All that happened was his cock rose a little higher. I gave up and lifted the crop.
“Count each stroke,” I told him. He nodded and looked straight ahead. I hit him with all my might.
“One, thank you little mistress,” he said. I struck again.
“Two, with my deepest gratitude,” he said calmly.
“Number three was magnificent,” he said.
I beat that slave’s cock with every ounce of my strength, and he won.
After fifty strokes his expression hadn’t changed, his breathing was regular and he hadn’t budged. His cock was dark purple with bruising, and to my astonishment, it was spurting cum.
In my efforts I hadn’t noticed that he was ejaculating, and now I looked at fresh spots all over the carpet. I turned to my grandmother in indignation, and she burst out laughing. Mom was grinning at me too.
“Best little masochist I’ve ever known,” Grams told me. “And you’ve won your reward she said to him.
He knelt on the carpet and bowed deeply to her, then he raised his eyes to me and bowed even deeper. I really liked that, it made my pussy throb.
I noticed the cum spots on the carpet. “Slave Daddy, clean that up,” I said.
He knelt with his bottom in the air and began licking the floor.
“Now, what’s this surprise you have for me?” Grams asked Mom.
“Run upstairs, freshen up, then bring it down,” Mom told me.
I went to my room and stripped. I jumped into the shower for five minutes, then got dressed in my green domina outfit. Then I went to Mike’s room.
He was lying on his bed naked and spread eagled. He wasn’t tied down, he just hadn’t moved from the time I’d ordered him to stay there. When he saw me his cock rose.
I motioned him to rise, then to kneel while I buckled a slave collar to his neck. I clipped a leash to it and led him out of the room.
Grandmother’s eyes widened when I led my brother into the parlor. She stared for a moment, then clapped her hands in delight. Mom raised her hand then pointed to me. I turned to Mike.
“Wiggle,” I commanded.
He shook his body causing his penis to bounce from side to side.
“More,” I demanded. Mike shook harder. Grandmother giggled wickedly.
“Now up and down,” I ordered.
Mikey obediently thrust his pelvis forward and back making his cock jiggle up and down.
“You can do better than that,” I said. “Jiggle harder!”
Mike tried and he was soon huffing and puffing, but he never slowed his gyrations. I grabbed his balls and he squeaked in pain. I slapped his cock several times.
“Now make this thing bounce higher,” I commanded. Mike jerked his entire body deeply, then thrust upward. His cock bounced from his belly nearly to his knees.
After a few minute I ordered him to stop. I motioned for him to crawl to Grams’ feet.
“Lick her shoes,” I told him. He obeyed.
Daddy was still trying to clean the rug with his tongue, but he wasn’t having much success, so I told him to stand up. I lifted his skirt away from his cock, which was still very hard, and tugged him to the center of the room.
“Hold your skirt up and make your cock jiggle like Mikeys,” I told him.
Daddy obeyed and soon his penis was bouncing in a huge up and down arc. I made him do that for several minutes, then commanded him to stop.
“Put your hands behind your neck and squat down,” I ordered. He did as he was told.
“Spread your legs apart.”
He squirmed a little, hampered by his hobble, but managed to open his knees wide.
“Now duck walk around the room.”
Daddy looked very silly trying not to topple over, and he looked very sexy with his skirt up at his waist. Mike was still licking Grams’ shoes and she idly touched his face and waved him away. I tapped him on the back.
“You walk like Daddy is doing.”
He had it easier than Daddy, since his ankles weren’t tied together, but he still looked very silly. I liked the way that his cock bounced with every step.
I made my father and brother duck walk around the room for about fifteen minutes, and when they looked about to collapse I gave them a break.
“Very good,” Grams applauded. “They gave no sign of disobedience.”
I was very proud.
“What are you going to do next?” Grams asked.
I looked at her slaves, then made up my mind.
“I think I’d like to have all the males duck walk up to the great room,” I told her, “Only we’ll have leashes on their balls.”
“Excellent, then what?”
“Well since you are going to tie that slave so tightly,” I said pointing to her young male, “I’d like to watch and see how you do it.”
“I think we can manage that, let’s go.”
I fetched some thin leather leashes and we tied them very tightly around all the slaves’ balls, then we led them upstairs. Grandmother took the chauffeur, Mom took the young slave and grandfather, and I had Daddy and Mike. They waddled along the hallway but we had to allow them to walk up the stairs normally. I didn’t want any of them falling and hurting himself. When they were on the upper floor I lined them up and told them to duck walk around the great room.
Grams and Mom were laughing at the sight, but I decided that the slaves should all walk in step, so I gave them marching commands like a sergeant. Mom shrieked with laughter as all five penises bounced in unison.
I marched them back and forth the length of the room several times. Then I asked Grams to tie her young slave.
We locked all the other males into cages and Grams ordered the young one to lie on the floor and open his legs.
Grandmother removed his leash and tied a very thin, strong cord very tightly around his balls. She wrapped it carefully in a nice neat row until it pushed his balls away from his body. The she reached into her purse and took out a medium sized dildo. She wet it with her tongue, which brought a groan of envy from Grandpa, and inserted it into the slave’s rectum. After that she ran the rest of the cord between his buttocks, wrapped it around his waist and tied it off. She rolled him onto his chest and pulled his arms up and together at his back. He must have been double jointed because she was able to make his elbows meet. Then she wrapped rope all the way from his wrists to his shoulders. After that she used string to tie each of his fingers to the one on the opposite hand.
I watched enthralled as she tied a short spreader bar between his knees, then brought his ankles together and tied them. She wrapped a leather band around his forehead and led a rope from the back of it to his ankles, then she began to pull and tug and pull some more until his body was bent into the tightest bow I’ve every seen. His cock was pointed backwards and Gram knelt on it. He squeaked in delight as he weight bore down. She pulled and pulled on the ropes until he was bent almost into a circle.
She removed her knee and straightened up.
“Put your foot on his cock,” she told me. I rested my foot on it.
“No, put your weight on it,” she commanded.
I shifted all my weight and balanced on that solid penis. The slave sighed in delight and astonishingly his cock didn’t flatten at all. I felt like I was standing on a baseball bat.
Grams tugged harder.
And when I didn’t think he could bend any more, she put her foot in the small of his back and tugged again. The slave’s neck muscles were standing out and his face showed a great strain, but he winked at me when she tightened his ropes another half inch. His cock was absolutely huge!
When my grandmother finally stepped away from that poor slave I felt sorry for him. And I could see how he might have problems breathing in that position, especially after she jammed a huge ball gag into his mouth.
I thought that she must be finished but them she untied the cord around his balls and replaces it with a thin wire. She left a small loop open.
“Piano wire,” she said as she tightened it around the base of his balls. She placed a stick in the loop and tightened it like a tourniquet and I watched his maleness grow larger and it was deep purple. I heard Mom suck in her breath. She touched the slave’s cock and it didn’t move.
“That is the hardest penis I’ve ever seen,” she whispered in awe.
“Will he be all right?” I asked Grams in a whisper.
In reply she just pointed to a puddle of cum that was seeping out of his cock.
“Put your foot back on it,” she said.
I did and it didn’t give in the slightest. I bounced up and down, and it held firm.
“Stomp on it,” Grams told me.
I paused and looked at the slave. He was looking back at me out of the corner of his eye. I saw a faint smile on his lips. I pressed down harder.
My grandmother sighed in exasperation. She gently pushed me aside.
“This is what I mean,” she slammed her foot onto that penis with all her force. I expected to see it burst like an apple, but the slave merely rolled his eyes into his head and began spurting cum across the floor.
I rolled him onto his side and was astonished to see cum pulsing out of his penis.
I looked into his eyes and saw that he was unconscious. I shook him but there was no response
“Are you ok?” I asked.
“He is out for the count,” Grams said. “But when he wakes up you will stomp him the proper way.”
“Yes ma am.” I grasped his cock and it felt cool but very hard. I stroked it a few times but he didn’t move.
“While that boy takes a nap, why don’t you practice on another slave,” Mom suggested. The other males shrank back.
I looked them over. “Ok, lets see if I can destroys daddy’s penis,” I giggled. My father went white.
We tied daddy just as tightly as the other boy, except that I was the one who bound up his cock. Grandmother had plenty of piano wire and when I finished daddy’s cock was just as hard as her slave.
I stood up, took aim, then jumped.
Daddy let out a terrific scream when I landed with both feet. He jerked so violently that I was toppled off my feet, but I caught myself, stood back up and jumped again. Daddy took five more before he fainted. Grams and Mom applauded. Then they turned to Mikey.
My poor brother writhed in pure terror as we stared at him, but finally Mom snorted.
“He’s still too young to survive that kind of torture,” she said. “He needs more conditioning, but don’t worry,” she smiled at him. “Your day will come.”
Gram’s slave finally woke up. He wriggled in his bonds and sighed happily. I rolled him onto his side and looked into his face.
“Did you enjoy what we did to you?” I asked him. He blinked in affirmative.
“And I bet you like being tied this tight too?”
He whimpered like a happy puppy.
“And you like this too?” I squeezed his cock.
“Too bad,” I laughed, “Because I feel rather cruel today.” I took my hand away. He sighed in disappointment.
“But maybe this will help,” I said. I pinched his nipple very hard. His taut muscles tightened even more and the dribble of cum suddenly became a spurt. It shot across the floor and splattered toward the cages. I let him go and he dropped back onto his stomach.
“Well done,” Grandma told me with a hug. “What would you like to do now?”
I looked at the rest of the slaves. They perked up in their cages and looked hopefully at me.
“I think I’d like to tie all of them just as tight as this one,” I said.
The slaves rose a little higher.
“Which one do you want?” Mom asked.
“Hmm, how about Grandpa?”
My grandfather gasped in delight and he squirmed forward so that his penis came between the bars.
“Oh, I’m afraid not,” Grams said sadly. “As much as he would like it, I dare not put him under that kind of stress. His heart just can’t take that kind of strain.”
“Is something wrong?” Mom asked concerned. “I just saw you whip him not a week ago.”
“Oh, after his last check up the doctor warned me that he was all right for pain but at his aged extended periods of immobility weren’t recommended.”
“Well, I guess Doctor Mills ought to know about extended periods of immobility,” Mom laughed.
Doctor Mills is a client to both Grams and Mom, and he loves to be tied tightly and teased for hours. We have a neat arrangement where he treats their clients when Mom or Grandmother get too rambunctious and cause injuries, and in return he gets tortured for free.
“Well, if Grandpa is out, how about my brother?” I asked.
Mike lowered his head in embarrassment, but his penis rose a few notches just the same. Mom shrugged. “You are in charge,” she told me.
I opened Mike’s cage and motioned him out. He resumed the duck walk and I thought that he looked so silly and so cute that I tied a cord around his balls and led him around the room for several minutes.
I left Mike’s maid dress on, along with the nylons, but I tied him the same way Grams had tied her boy.
Grams stood close and offered advice, and she always could get the ropes tighter than I thought possible. Just when I didn’t believe that I could pull a rope any more she would place her hand over mine and we would pull it tighter. Mike suffered in silence, as he’s been trained to do, but his masochistic nature showed through because his cock was just as hard as the other slave’s when we finished.
I stood up and looked over our handiwork. “Something is missing,” I mused.
“Now what could that be?” Mom smiled.
“I know.” I pushed Mike’s body toward the other slave. I placed his face at the other’s crotch and removed his gag.
He obeyed and I pulled the slave’s penis into Daddy’s mouth. The flow of cum immediately increased.
“Swallow,” I ordered.
Mike’s throat worked but the slave was pumping so much that it spilled out between Mike’s lips.
I wanted to put Daddy’s cock in the other male’s mouth but the tight arc of their bodies prevented this. They were bent away from each other. Oh well, can’t have everything.
“Mike you keep that in your mouth until I tell you to stop, do you hear?”
A tear rolled out of his eye but he blinked affirmative.
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