A New Domination Ch. 03 free porn video

I awoke one morning with what must be the most superb, the most lascivious sensation any guy can ever experience. My mother was working her tongue around my cock, bathing it with her moist lips and stroking my morning woody close to explosion. She knew from experience the signs of my impending climax, and used her well developed oral skills to keep me on the edge for what seemed ages. I howled in desperation while she laughed, a low sensuous sound, knowing that, for a short time, she was in control. And guessing that I would punish her in ways that would give her intense pleasure. She sucked a good part of my cock into her hot, mobile mouth, running her tongue around the crown and sucking me until eventually I erupted into her, seeming to empty everything I had into her willing, exciting mouth. She swallowed every drop, and then licked my shrinking cock clean.

"Oh Sir, that was really delicious; you taste divine, although I know I'm in trouble for not asking your permission. How will you punish me?"

I laughed. "I should punish you by not punishing you," at which her face fell. "But perhaps ten strokes with my hand on your bouncy bottom might send the right message. And maybe five strikes on each nipple with the suede flogger to reinforce that message. Well, slut?"

"Oh god, yes Sir. Show me how naughty I am. Teach me to be a good girl for you. Please?"

Sally, my mother, my sub, my slut had developed a real fascination for just sufficient pain to heat her bottom and her tits, which translated itself into her pussy, making her so horny that I might have had to restrain her—not that I ever wanted to.

"Very well, slut, gown off and over my lap, NOW."

She jumped to obey, a wide smile on her face, and her smooth, pink white bottom angled to meet my spanks. First a couple of gentle caresses to get her skin crawling, and I heard her soft whimpers of desire. Then five hard smacks on each globe which created squeals of delight.

"Now, assume the position on the floor in front of me."

She hurried to comply, kneeling upright with her legs spread wide, but her heated bottom resting on her heels. Her hands rested on her thighs with her eyes focused on a spot on the carpet in front of her. Picking up the flogger, I instructed her to look into my eyes during this punishment, and she looked through half closed lids with a sultry expression on her face. My mother was going to enjoy this as much as I did.

Each stroke of the flogger fell across her hard nipples, and she gasped with pleasure each time.

She looked up at me with desire flooding her eyes.

"Oh god, Sir, you have made me so hot and horny. I need you so much."

This was how I most enjoyed her, caught between her need to submit to me and her need for release. "Please." Barely a whisper, but it conveyed her overwhelming need better than any shouts or screams.

There would have been no point in me refusing; my brain was now totally located in my cock and it was giving me irresistible messages about taking my mother, and taking her hard.

"Yes, slut, on the bed: you will ride me hard for my pleasure. You will not cum until I give you permission, understood?"

A deep, sensual moan was all the answer I needed, and in seconds, I was on my back with my mother straddling me, her weeping pussy positioned just above my rigid member.

"Slowly, now, mother, just ease me into your pleasure pit," with which she moved downwards almost painfully slowly as my cock slipped itself into her and she mewled in approaching ecstasy. Equally slowly, she rose until only the head of my cock was lodged in her pussy, but then excitement got the better of her and she plunged down with a screech of need.

"Bad girl," I said as she rose again, and I slapped her bottom hard on both cheeks. "Slowly, I said, and I meant it. I will decide whether we speed things up, not you."

"I am so sorry, Sir," she gasped and repeated the slow rise and fall as my cock progressively filled and emptied her clutching pussy.

Then I made the decision, and grabbed her hips, pulling her down hard. "Now fuck yourself hard on my cock, mother, but don't cum until I tell you."

She gasped, and began a feverish rise and fall, enveloping me in her hot, wet, needy center, calling out my name and telling me how much she needed me and how good this all was. The perfume of her arousal grew, an intoxicating aphrodisiac that I neither could nor wanted to resist. I reached up, pinching and twisting her nipples, which caused her gasps and squeals to grow and her demands to become more frenzied. Her cunt muscles told me that she was getting close to release, and I slapped her again to warn her that her orgasm was under my control.

This lustful activity was having a marked effect on me as well. I could feel my orgasm gathering strength in my lower abdomen and moving towards my balls. I gasped out my demands—"make me cum, bitch," "give me everything you've got," "cum on my cock, slut," "show me you belong to me, whore," and more.

She moaned and tried hard to delay the approaching storm which I knew, from experience would break in a hot, screaming fury. The effort to resist her climax showed in her face, screwed up in concentration and submission, until I told her, "I'm near breaking point, mother, and when my load hits you, you may cum yourself; just a few seconds more,"

Her effort grew more concentrated and demanding, before, with a shout of triumph, I conquered her, flooding her with a glorious load of sperm. It took no more for my mother to react. With a fierce scream of release she thrashed and writhed on top of me before her body went rigid, staying that way for a few seconds. Then she collapsed, her tits mashing into my chest as she gasped for breath.

After a short time, she rolled off me, then moved close, covering my face with kisses and murmuring words of love and delight. I held her in my arms, reveling in the warmth and seductive silkiness of her body, her skin glowing and her hands soft and warm, stroking my body. Reluctantly, I prepared for another day of study; mum made a little moue of disappointment, but she knew how important my studies were, and she shared my enthusiasm for moving ahead.

I was in the university library talking to Phil Weston, a contemporary. We were both enrolled in the same program; although he was a couple of years ahead of me. I had discovered that Phil had had an affair with the wife of one of the lecturers, and if that had come out, he wouldn't've lasted five minutes in the uni. He was complaining to me about his situation and talking about quitting his degree.

"Why, Phil; what's causing this?"

"My mother is getting more arrogant and more demanding. She's pushed herself really hard since dad left, and now she's pushing me hard as well. I wish there was some way of getting through to her, but she won't listen."

"You may have to take a strong line, Phil; she won't just buckle under because you're upset."

"Easier said than done, man," he concluded and we went our separate ways.

At home that evening, I said to mum, "Does the name 'Weston' ring any bells with you? I seem to remember you making some reference years ago, but I can't put my finger on it."

Unexpectedly, she blushed and cleared her throat. "Mmm—the woman who introduced me to Blake Sheldon was Ellen Weston; she had been a member of the cult for some time. Why do you ask, honey?"

My mind went into overdrive. "Oh no particular reason, mum, but I have a close friend at uni, Phil Weston, and I wondered whether there was any connection."

"Probably, honey; she had mentioned a son of about your age."

"Mum, would you be okay if I invited Phil round for coffee and a snack one afternoon. I'd like to introduce him to you—and all your skills and abilities!"

"Are you sure that's safe, Sir; we could get into terrible trouble and ..."

"Don't worry about that, mum. I want to show him how satisfying it is to have my mother as my sub, and maybe encourage him to do the same with his mother."

She gasped. "Oh god, do you think that's possible? Ellen Weston is a much tougher proposition than I could ever be."

"The bigger they come, the harder they fall, mum. Don't worry, everything will be alright?"

"Okay, Sir."

The next day, Phil and I were drinking coffee and I introduced the subject of i****t. His curiosity was immediately obvious and I outlined my relationship with my mother. His eyes stood out on stalks and his voice shuddered as he said, "Man, that's just unbelievable. You've got to be k**ding me."

"Well, if you are prepared to eat those words, come round to my place on Saturday around 4.00 pm and I'll show you."

He looked at me in astonishment, but nodded his agreement.

On Saturday precisely at 4.00 pm, the doorbell rang and mum invited Phil in. I had specified how she would dress; a floral sun dress with a flared skirt, no bra or panties but stockings with a garter belt and four inch heeled sandals. All this complemented by enough but not too much makeup but with scarlet enameled nails. She looked delicious with her brown hair flowing freely around her shoulders and a light fresh perfume, the whole of which made a profound impact on my cock.

"Please come in, Phil," she greeted him with a dazzling smile and showed him into the lounge.

"I see you've met mum," I commented and he nodded, somewhat taken aback by her enticing looks. "Some coffee and snacks, I think Sally,"

"Yes Sir," she replied and left the room.

"Did she really call you Sir, Simon—or was she just being sarcastic?"

"Oh no, this is just the start."

My mother returned and, as per instructions I'd given her earlier, she was especially attentive to Phil, who lapped it up. She referred to him as "Sir" and was quite tactile, resting a hand on his shoulder and touching his arm as if by accident. I could see Phil getting quite excited and it was time to take it up a notch.

As mum re-entered the lounge, she tripped and some biscuits fell to the floor. Mother gasped and looked at me. "I'm so sorry, Sir what can I do to ..."

"I think a small punishment is due, don't you, slut? I think Phil would be quite interested to see how you take a spanking."

By this time Phil had turned red and his breathing was short and shallow. It was almost as if he was close to creaming his jeans.

Mother moved to me and leaned over my lap. I flipped up her skirt, showing the garter and her creamy bottom, perfectly positioned for spanking. I gave her ten hard slaps, five on each cheek and she squealed in her favorite mixture of pain and pleasure.

The punishment over, she stood in front of me saying, "Thank you, Sir; I deserved that for my clumsiness."

I moved her round between Phil and myself then slid my hand up under the skirt and stroked along her hot bottom as she whimpered with excitement.

I looked at Phil. "Why don't you do the same, feel how hot her bottom gets. I'm sure mum won't mind."

"Oh no, Phil, Sir, I'd be honored if you would fondle my bottom; it would feel so good."

Not unexpectedly, he accepted the invitation, and mother mewled some more, shivering as he ran his hand around her globes, and then gave a quiet scream as he touched the saturated lips of her pussy.

"God, Simon, she's so hot and so wet. Is there anything she wouldn't do for you?"

"Nothing, Phil, she will do anything I say—in fact, let's try that out. I can't help noticing that you're getting a little, shall we say, enthusiastic; mother, give our guest one of your special blowjobs."

She dropped to her knees in front of Phil, unbuckling his belt, and with a little help from the man himself, pulled down his jeans and his boxers.

"Ooh nice," she crowed, taking Phil's rigid and drooling cock in her hand, then delicately licking the drop of pre-cum from the tip. She worked her tongue around and along the shaft and juggled his balls in her soft, warm hand.

Phil was in seventh heaven, gasping, "This is so good, I won't be able to last long."

"Don't worry, Sir, I can help you with that," and wrapped her fingers round the base of his cock, squeezing to reduce his growing climax. My mother played my best friend, bringing him close to orgasm, then shutting him down in one of the finest displays of cock-sucking I'd ever seen. Phil started to become delirious, begging her to let him cum, begging for release, but she continued to play with him until I winked at her, when she took his whole engorged tool into her mouth and sucked him hard to climax.

Phil yelled with delight, pumping his load into my mother's mouth; she swallowed it all, and finished by gently licking and sucking his shrinking cock until it was completely clean.

"Oh god, oh fuck," Phil was almost beside himself. "I've never had a blowjob like that before. Thank you so much, Sally, thank you Simon. So this is what I'm missing?"

"Probably, Phil. Listen, I want to show you something. Mother, fetch the DVD."

She soon returned and set the DVD going, showing her "marriage" to the phallus in the cult. Phil gasped in astonishment. "I don't believe it," he whispered. "That's incredible."

"Phil, your mother introduced Sally to the cult and to Blake Sheldon. So the odds are that she has a set of photos and a DVD like this hidden away somewhere. Find it, and you'll have all the leverage you need to make your mother your sub."

He stared at me, struggling to come to terms with what he'd just seen—and with the potential for him to dominate his own mother, making her his sex slave.

"Jesus, Simon, I'm completely blown away by all this. I had no idea, and I will certainly be combing every square inch of our place to find the evidence."

He said his farewells, and mother gave him a long wet kiss, and squeezed his cock, laughing gently at his enthusiastic response.

I looked at my mother after Phil left and she gave me a conspiratorial smile. "Did I do good, Sir?" she whispered coming into my arms.

"You were magnificent, mother, and you made a firm impression on Phil. Did you enjoy your little workout with him?"

"Yes, he's okay, but not a patch on you, Sir."

"Just the right answer mother. And right now, I'm feeling hot and horny, and you will pleasure me straight away." In anticipation of this torrid encounter, I shucked off my clothes in double quick time.

Her answer was immediate. She stripped off her dress, then fell onto her arms and legs on our deep soft carpet. "Please Sir, please take me hard, doggy style. I so want to make you explode after you fill me with your magic cock."

She gasped with glee when I slapped her bottom hard a few times to warm her up. Then positioning myself behind her, I slid my rigid member firmly into her already wet and waiting pussy.

"Ooh yes, Sir, it's you I want; have no mercy on me; fuck me hard."

This was a plea that I couldn't refuse and I increased my speed, groaning with delight as I hammered into her love channel. I changed again, concentrating on short hard thrusts that caused her to scream with pleasure, and with a rising climax. Her cunt muscles gripped at me, seemingly unwilling to let me go, and her cries became disoriented prayers for more to take her over the edge.

I knew that moment was coming soon, and so was mine. Her sweet, hot body, writhing and squirming under me was generating an inevitable detonation and I could feel my time getting closer. I reached round under her and pinched both nipples, twisting and pulling them, and this was enough to send her into orbit. My mother screamed with joy as her orgasm pulsed through her whole body, generating electrical discharges that caused her to shake and spasm. In turn her swelling, clutching love tunnel reacted with my swelling cock to cause me to discharge a goodly volume of hot sperm into her silky depths.

We lay panting on the floor before Sally moved down and licked my shrivelling cock clean, humming with pleasure as she did so.

"Come here, slut, and kiss me," I ordered, and her sweet wet kiss tasted of our fluids, an intoxicating mix that I always enjoyed. She made small sexually charged sounds into my mouth as she stroked my body with her warm soft hands.

"Simon, you are the only man that I can love unconditionally, who I can trust totally and who can do anything you want with me. I want nothing more than to give you pleasure and to prove to you that your fantasies can become reality."

"And you do that so well, mother. I feel the same way about you. Your need to be dominated and used and even humiliated reaches right into me, and I want to be your Dom to give you the pleasure you deserve."

Her kiss was everything a lover's kiss should be, and then she bit my ear lobe and ran away giggling.

About a week later, Phil caught up with me in the university library. "I've found them, Simon, I've found the pictures and the DVD; I made copies of everything and returned the originals to their hiding place, now to get to mother and force her to do my bidding."

Phil sounded almost ecstatic about his discovery, and his plans for his mother. 'Great' I thought, then, "Be careful, Phil—your mother is a tough and very successful woman. This won't be a walkover."

In his excitement, he merely acknowledged what I had said and continued with his plans to dominate his mother. A small alarm bell went off in my head, but I said no more and left it at that.

I heard nothing from Phil in the short term, which didn't concern me unduly. What did concern me, however, was the sudden and quite abrupt change in my mother's behaviour. At first there were only small indicators of coolness, but the situation blew up one evening when she said, "Simon, you need to return to your own bedroom. It isn't proper for a mother and son to be sleeping together."

I could hardly believe my ears. What on earth had got into her? "Sally, look ..."

I got no further as she interrupted, "Please don't use my given name, Simon, to you, I should be 'mum' and nothing more familiar."

"I'll call you Mrs Benson if you like," I replied with deep sarcasm.

"That's not necessary; 'mum' will do. And you should be aware that our physical relationship is at an end. I will not prostitute myself to you any longer. It is not right; it's both i*****l and immoral, and I want no more of it."

"Mum, what's got into you? What's made you change like this?"

"I've had my eyes opened to the infamy of what we have been doing. I've been in touch with Ellen Weston and she has been very clear that this is just not acceptable."

"I see. Did she say anything about Phil?"

"She told me that he had tried to initiate a sexual relationship with her, but she told him not to be stupid and that it was completely inappropriate. Apparently he had told her about you and me, and she has encouraged me to break with you for my own good."

"Okay, mum, I'll go back to my own room, and be a good boy in future."

"Thank you, Simon, you won't regret this."

'Maybe not, mum,' I thought, 'but you sure will.'

I attempted to contact Phil over the next week but he seemed to have gone to ground. He couldn't stay away forever, though, and I eventually caught up with him in the campus coffee shop.

"Okay, Phil. What happened?"

"Oh god, Simon, I tried to coerce my mother into doing what I demanded but she called my bluff and I backed down. I didn't seem to be able to stand up to her, now she's twice as arrogant and full of herself as she was before. I can't see any way out of this mess."
"There is, Phil, but you're going to have to take a very tough line. I'll help you, in fact, I can take the lead in breaking her, then you can take over the control."

He looked at me with hope in his eyes. "What are you proposing?"

"I'll get mum to invite you both to our place for a meal. When you get there, we'll grab her and tie her down, then I'll go to work. Given the way she's behaving, I'll probably have to tie my mother up, too, but that shouldn't be a problem."

It was arranged; mum as very enthusiastic, and Ellen and Phil arrived the following Saturday evening, with Ellen looking as pleased as punch. She imagined that she'd had a big win.

I had not met Ellen before, and she was quite an imposing woman. Tall, about five feet nine inches in three inch heels, with hair so black that it had a slightly blue sheen to it. Its style was similar to that of Dr Lilith Sternin (Bebe Neuwirth), the ex-wife of "Frasier" in the TV series, who she somewhat resembled. Ellen's eyes were deep blue, a generous mouth and an oval, well proportioned face. Her legs were beautifully shaped, leading to a generous bum, below even more generous breasts

I offered them drinks, then engaged in small talk, flattering Ellen, who was very susceptible to flattery and who started to lower her guard. After a short while, I looked at Phil who nodded.

"Okay, time to start," I said. "First of all, Ellen, take all your clothes off."

Her face turned black with rage. "Don't be offensive, you crude little boy. I most certainly will not."

"I see, Ellen ..."

"Mrs Weston to you," she interrupted.

"Be quiet, Ellen and listen to me. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. The easy way, you take your own clothes off. The hard way, Phil and I will do it for you."

"You filthy pig, you a****l," she screamed. "I'm leaving here right now."

"I don't think so, Ellen," I replied, grabbing her by the wrists and twisting her arms behind her. "Cuffs, please, Phil."

He clicked handcuffs onto his mother and forced her backwards into a chair, tying her ankles to the chair legs.

"Help," she screamed. "Sally, help me."

"Oh dear," I sighed. "Mother, be sensible," but she moved towards her friend and received the same attention that Ellen had, being soon restrained on a chair.

"Now, Ellen we are going to release first your top half so you can start removing your clothes, then your bottom half so you can complete the job. Once again, we'll give you two options. Either do it yourself, or we will do it for you, and if we need to, we'll cut away every scrap of clothing."

"Bastards. Fucking bastards. I'll see you both in hell."

"Good-oh, Ellen, we'll be waiting for you at the gate. Okay, Phil, get the scissors, we're going to have to ruin her perfectly good clothes."

"No, wait." Our first victory; the first wedge driven into the wall of her defiance.

We removed the cuffs from her wrists and she slowly removed her blouse, then her bra to reveal nicely shaped tits—a little sag but just the right size with dark, crinkled areolas and beautifully shaped nipples. I was intrigued to see that they looked to be engorged; something had set her off, and the room was quite warm.

"Now listen, Ellen, we're going to remove the rest of your restraints and you will take off your skirt and pantyhose. But one false move, you'll be restrained again, and we'll cut everything else off. And I can't guarantee that we'll be any too gentle." She didn't resist; her face was still distorted with anger, but she was now more vulnerable.

"Okay, Ellen, here's the situation. We know you were a member of Blake Sheldon's sex and domination cult and Phil has shown me the various photos and the DVD of your activities there. Your position is simple. Submit yourself to your son to become his sex slave, or risk everything in those photos going public. Your choice."

"No. Ellen, don't. Don't let yourself be degraded." This from my mother.

"Shut up, Sally. Any more from you and I'll gag you." She fell silent.

"Now, Ellen, what do you have to say?"

"I say, do your damndest. No one will take any notice of this filth. I'll claim it's all a fabrication put together by business rivals to discredit me."

"No, that won't wash, Ellen. Those photos are clearly genuine, and you can't claim they aren't of you. We'd be quite prepared to have a photographic expert certify that they haven't been tampered with. And it's a question of how we release them and to whom. Your business rivals would love to see them. Your women's clique would be fascinated. Phil's father would feel justified and would haul you ass back into court so fast your feet wouldn't touch the ground. Then there is the question of your reliability, you business soundness. Suppliers might think twice. Your bankers would hardly be impressed. Customers would have second thoughts. No, Ellen, for you, the easy way out is to simply do what Phil says. I'm sure he wouldn't be harsh with you, he would just need to use you to satisfy his desires."

I stopped and waited for this critique to sink in. She continued to glare at me, but I sensed some hesitation and returned to the offensive. "Just think carefully, Ellen. The public humiliation you would be forced to endure would be never-ending. No one would trust you again, and there will be a growing cloud of gossip, rumor, judgement and scandal. If that's what you want, fine, just go ahead and refuse to have anything to do with Phil, but like it or not, it IS the reality. The alternative is simple. Accept Phil as your master; yes, there will be some private humiliation, but it will never become public and you can go about your business unhindered.

The expression on Phil's mother's face was changing. The outright defiance had been replaced by uncertainty and an internal struggle. Now for the coup de grace.

"Ellen, how would you relish the prospect of being arrested as an accessory after the fact to murder?"

Her eyes sprang open in total amazement, and I heard my mother gasp.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ellen demanded.

"Simple. As you know, Blake Sheldon died when the cult headquarters went up in flames. The police never identified the culprit, but it was thought it might have been the partner of a cult member. I know Phil's father was interrogated, but he gave the cops a convincing story, even though there were a few unanswered questions. For instance, how come you threw your husband out only days after the fire? How come he told Phil that he thought you were having an affair with Sheldon? How come he shouted at you, 'well that fixes Sheldon. You won't be seeing him again'?"

"Now this is all circumstantial, but I suspect the truth is that he confessed to you, and you threw him out. He agreed to a substantial settlement if you kept your mouth shut."

Ellen's face showed a combination of pleading and horror at the thought of her future. She had gone a dreadful grey/green color and she gasped as she tried to speak. 'Bingo' I thought. 'Got you'.

"Please, I beg you, don't take this any further. I couldn't handle that publicity or stress, and I couldn't face the prospect of goal time."

"No, quite, but you know the alternative. You become your son's mistress, his sex slave, his sub and you allow him to dominate you. Ellen, I'm going to put something to you. I may be quite wrong, but this isn't an uncommon scenario. I suspect that, deep down, you have a need to find sexual release with someone who can control you and make you obey them. You needed someone to control you in your personal life, but someone who you could trust. You needed to feel safe and secure, to be able to relax and let yourself go and thoroughly enjoy the experience. In other words, you needed someone who would control and regulate your experience of being dominated, but in ways where you would ultimately be safe."

"I guess you discovered that Phil's father didn't meet your needs in the bedroom, hence your relationship with Sheldon. I guess Phil's dad had little interest in you sexually. You couldn't get your needs met, so you sublimated them into a drive towards business success, where you became quite hard nosed, and which turned you into a hard, driven person, able to completely suppress all your sensual desires under a ruthless drive for success—and, probably for money."

"Ellen, this may be your last, your only chance to have your needs met. Your son loves you. He wants to help you, he wants you to realize all your suppressed sexual desires, and he will be a perfect partner. Yes, I know all about the i****t taboos, but if you both care about each other and there are no official complaints, then you should be able to have a beautiful relationship. It's your call, Ellen."

Ellen's face changed. She went from looking beaten, defeated to an expression of acceptance, albeit with some hesitation. She looked across at Phil sitting quietly without revealing his anticipation. "Phillip, would you take a risk and release me, please?" Her voice was soft, laden with supplication. He moved to her and undid the cuffs on her wrists and the rope around her ankles. She immediately dropped to the floor, kneeling submissively in front of him. "I have been so wrong, and only now your friend has made me realize what is really important to me and how I can achieve what I most need. Please, master, make me your woman. I need you so much, and I will be so good to you, just let me know that you care so that I can lose myself in you and have you control me for your pleasure and my release."

Phil raised her to her feet and held her close, stroking the silken skin of her back and whispering in her ear. He turned to me, saying, "Simon, I don't know how to thank you for this. I owe you really big time, but I think mum and I will get going now if we may and get home and," here he laughed, "I think the expression is, 'consummate our relationship'."

I had known that since Ellen had revealed herself as a new woman, my mother had been sobbing quietly in the background. Phil and Ellen said their goodbyes to her in a rather subdued way, leaving us alone. I released her bonds, then left the room for a short while to gather my thoughts.

I returned to the lounge and stood looking at my mother with a set expression on my face. She trembled and sobbed, her eyes wide with fear, her face contorted in terror.

"Well, mother, what AM I to do with you after your wholesale betrayal? As this was not ENTIRELY your fault, I shall be lenient, for if it had been, I should have packed my bags and left you to your own devices."

"No, please no, oh god, don't desert me, Simon—I beg you, Sir, please stay with me; punish me in any way you feel I deserve, but please don't go."

"Very well, you treacherous slut, I'm going to flog you like you've never been flogged before, and I hope you will learn your lesson. Do this again, and I'm gone. Understand?"

"Oh yes, Sir, please whip me, flog me, show me how bad, how disloyal I've been."

I pulled my belt out of my jeans and flicked it through the air. "Right, you stupid whore, over the end of the lounge."

My mother bent herself over, her bottom quivering in anticipation of the punishment to come and posed at the perfect height for the purpose. Wrapping the belt round my hand, I struck, hard, drawing first a gasp at the pain, but I continued, lashing her backside as it got progressively redder. Her gasps turned to screams, the pain clearly becoming almost intolerable. Then I stopped briefly and she started to rise.

"Stay where you are—I'm not finished with you yet." I then picked up a long thin leather "cane", flexible and obviously able to inflict severe pain. I lashed out, cutting her across her scarlet bottom, and her scream was harsh and uncontrolled. But so was I, seeing her and her betrayal through a fog of revenge.

More strikes, and suddenly my mother screamed through her agony, "Wombat, oh god, wombat."

I nearly dislocated my shoulder as I threw away the cane at the shriek of her safe word. The fog dispersed, and I saw the woman I loved laying on the ground in a fetal position, tears flooding down her face. I knew then that I had gone too far—the question was, how would she seek to revenge herself on me; I could almost hear police sirens in the distance. And then my world imploded in amazement; I could hardly believe what I heard.

"Oh Sir," she sobbed through her tears, "I am so very sorry. Can you please find it in you to forgive me? Please?"

"Mum .. mum, wh .. what on earth are .. are you t .. talking about?", I stammered. "I've just beaten you half to death and YOU want to apologize?"

"Simon, you don't understand. I needed to be punished; what I did was wrong and totally disloyal. I had to be punished, but I was a coward and used my safe word. I shouldn't; I should have just continued to take my punishment. Please forgive me."

"Only if you forgive me for hurting you so badly."

Her soft brown eyes still glistened with tears, but her smile was wholly loving and accepting, and my heart went out to her.

"I love you, mum, and I always will. Now, I have an instruction for you. Go to your bedroom and lay face down on the bed." She looked puzzled but did as I instructed.

I followed soon after, and spread a soothing cream liberally on her angry red butt, stroking it in to an accompaniment of purrs like a satisfied cat. She turned her head and looked at me. "Thank you, Sir. And will you please move back in with me tonight—I've been getting so lonely."

We returned to how we had been before the "Ellen incident", emphasizing a powerful sexual relationship. My mother offered herself to me enthusiastically and with a sense of fun that may have been unusual in a D/s relationship, but it worked for us.

A few weeks later, I received a phone call from Phil, inviting Mum and me to their place for a meal in a week or so. He told me that his relationship with his mother was working well, and that she was developing her submissive streak very strongly. He also told me how impressed she had been with my sense of control and my understanding of her predicament.

I was flattered but intrigued, wondering whether Phil had a "swap" in mind. I caught up with him later and sounded him out. He blushed slightly and confessed that he had been really taken with my mother and was planning a "swap" but only if I agreed.

I laughed. "I've heard of wife swapping, but mother swapping is rather different. Yeah, I think I would rather enjoy getting together with your mother and seeing how far I could take her."

"I don't think you'll have any problems there, Simon—she is one very hot, very responsive lady."

I told mum about this invitation and she responded with a smile. "You know, Simon, Phil is quite transparent. I knew from the beginning that he wanted to get into my panties. My real hesitation is how you will feel about it, Sir?"

"I'll be okay with that, mum—if you're okay with me taking Ellen for a ride. Could be an interesting evening!"

On the Saturday before we set out, my mother presented herself to me for inspection, and I came close to ripping her clothes off and taking her on the spot. She had piled her hair up in a careful coiffure and her makeup was on the verge of slutty, but not over the edge. She wore a white front buttoned blouse with ruffles down the front, a tailored skirt well above the knee, four inch heels with ankle straps and smoky grey seamed stockings. She looked good enough to eat, and I told her so.

"Do you think Phil will be able to resist me?" mum laughed.

"For about five seconds, then he'll turn to putty in your hands."

"Oh, I do hope not. I need at least one thing to stay hard and inviting."

I gave her bottom a playful slap and we left for Ellen and Phil's place. I had never been there before; it was an old style villa, high ceilings, solid brick and an air of comfort and subdued luxury. Phil opened the door and gave a quiet whistle of appreciation when he saw mum. He ushered us into the lounge and we looked around. "Nice place you've got here, Phil," and he nodded in agreement. I noticed a series of photographs of an attractive young woman; "Who's the young lady, Phil?" I asked "My sister, Jodie," he replied, in a rather offhand manner, "she's just turned eighteen and still lives with our father."

Our conversation ceased as Ellen walked into the room, and she took my breath away. Dressed in a sleeveless V neck halter style dress in a soft electric blue fabric, tied behind her neck, it revealed a mouth watering cleavage, and was cut just above her knees. Five inch "fuck me" heels and the sheerest of stockings completed a ravishing ensemble that almost certainly included neither bra nor panties.

"Hello, Sally," she started as they air kissed, and she turned to me. Her voice became sultry and inviting. "Hello Simon. It really is so good to see you again."

Phil had a wide smile, and said, "We thought we'd eat buffet style; there's lots of things to eat and we can enjoy a few drinks. Mother, why don't you sit with Simon on that settee and I'll keep Sally company over here."

The fact that this was totally obvious didn't detract at all from the turn-on I was beginning to experience. And Ellen's luscious perfume was mixed with just an initial hint of female arousal which added to my enjoyment.

She turned to me with a wanton expression and said, "We thought it would be fascinating for me to serve you and for Sally to do the same for Phil. Then we can see what develops."

"Mmm, yes, Ellen, excellent idea," and I could see out of the corner of my eye that Phil was already groping my mother's tits while she fed him with finger food—and she was obviously thoroughly enjoying it.

Ellen offered me a canapé, making sure that her fingers went into my mouth, and I sucked them enthusiastically. She made small noises in the back of her throat, then brought a hand round to caress my face and down behind my ear. More food and more touching, mixed with suggestive comments about how I'd like to put some things in her mouth and be able to touch her where she would really enjoy it.

Ellen laughed, a smoky, sensuous sound, telling me anything would be okay.

I noticed that Phil and my mother had left the room. "Looks like we're alone, Ellen, how about we enjoy each other a little?"

"Yes," she breathed. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want to see that gorgeous body. Strip for me."

Not taking her eyes off me, she reached behind her neck and undid the halter top of her dress. It fell to her waist, revealing her breasts, proud and with almost no sag, two perfect handfuls just waiting to be possessed, the nipples already hardening.

I bent and licked around her left breast, tracing the areola with my tongue and rolling the nipple between my lips. She sighed and pulled my head closer, and when I bit into the engorged nipple, she screamed with the painful pleasure. I transferred my attentions to her right breast, again getting the same response.

"Now lose the dress completely, slut," I demanded, taking a chance on calling her a slut, but she hurried to comply. "Now wipe your finger along your slit and show me the result."

She did this, presenting me with a finger liberally coated in her love juice.

"Now, lick your finger clean and tell me what you can taste."

"Ooh yes, Sir, I can taste my arousal and it makes me want you to fuck me. Please, Sir, please fuck this slut. Please fill me with your swollen shaft and send me into orbit."

"Somewhere more comfortable, I think, Ellen," and she almost dragged me to her bedroom, throwing herself into the middle of her large bed.

"I beg you, Sir, please don't make me wait." I jumped onto the bed beside her, determined to keep her pulsating for a while longer.

I kissed down her body again, biting her nipples as she quivered and shuddered, then rimmed her belly-button before moving down to her smooth, shaved mound. She thrust herself upward, anxiously seeking my mouth, but I licked around her pleasure pit, tormenting her with my tongue.
She cried out to me, harsh and pleading. "Please don't tease me like this. Fill me up. I need your cock inside me; I need it now. Just do me hard, you bastard ..."

I needed to show her who was in charge, and slapped each tit hard, across her nipples. She screamed with the sudden pain and I told her, "Listen, whore, you get what I chose to give you and when I give it to you, nothing more. Now apologize for being so demanding, and if you humiliate yourself well enough, I might consider taking you."

"Oh master, please forgive this stupid slut. You got me so horny, so hungry for cock that I forgot who I was and let my needs become more important than yours. You can punish me any way you want master, only I beg you, please honor me with your steel hard tool and tear my worthless cunt apart."

"Not bad, slut. Now I want you to straddle me and ride me to climax, but you will not cum until I permit you to. Understand?"

She gasped and sobbed with pleasurable anticipation, and I rolled onto my back. She brought one leg over me and poised her throbbing pussy over my rigid cock.

"Now, whore, get the head of my cock into your slit and hold yourself there." She did so, and then I grabbed her hips and pulled her down roughly, filling her with my cock and causing her to scream with surprise, excitement and just a little pain.

"Ride me, bitch," I demanded, "and make it good, then I might just possibly allow you to cum."

She did as I said, her body pistoning up and down, her screams and moans getting louder, her tits shaking and bobbling in my face. "Yes, oh god, yes ... so good ... fuckfuckfuck, you're filling me up ... I'm getting close; please let me cum ... I want to cum all over your gorgeous cock."

My climax was getting closer, but there was more to do.

I was thrusting my cock into her hard and fast, generating my own pleasure as well as for Ellen. Then I reached up and pinched her tits, pulling and twisting the nipples and causing her to scream out in a pain barely distinguishable from pleasure.

"Mmm, that's what I like to hear, slut," I hissed, "Let me know I'm hurting you."

"Aargh, yes, it hurts but it's so good. Please, master, just let me cum; I don't think I can keep going much longer."

"Before you cum, whore, tell me who this pussy belongs to?"

"Ooh, my god, master," she moaned, "Yes, yes, yes, my cunt belongs to you. Use me whenever however and wherever you want"

I was now close to my peak; my breathing had become rapid and shallow, and I could feel the gathering storm in my abdomen, rushing towards my balls.

"Yes, bitch, you may cum after I do. Cum all over my cock." With this, I exploded a huge load of cream into her throbbing, gripping, searing cunt, shouting with the joy of conquest.

With that, she blew apart in orgasm. She shook like a tree in a gale, half screaming, half whimpering, thrashing on top of me while she met the thunderous climax that blasted through her cunt and into the whole of her body.

She opened her eyes and gazed at me with longing and happiness. "Oh god, Sir, it's never been this good before. I never dreamed I could let go and erupt into heaven this way. So good. You've shown me something I never guessed existed, and I need it again very soon."

"I'm sure Phil can take you to the same place," I reassured her, but Ellen looked cautiously at me and made no further comment.

""I can hear Phil and mum still having a good time next door," I commented as I heard his shouts coming through the wall. "Time for a little more fun ourselves. Get yourself up against the bed-head, spread your legs and start playing with yourself."

Ellen did as she was told, and her hand was soon working hard into her wet pussy, two fingers disappearing inside. She writhed and moaned as her excitement rose, and I then took over, replacing her fingers with my tongue.

I spent time playing with her, bringing her to the edge of one orgasm after another, allowing her just the occasional plunge into delirium. As a condition of allowing her that delight, I made her say the things I wanted her to say, the things that showed clearly just how much of a slut she really was. She unashamedly begged me to fuck her, to use her arse whenever I felt the need, to spank her, to bite her tits, or to just fill her with my cum so she could go again.

Towards the end of this little game, I heard movement in the doorway, and my mother and Phil were standing watching this depraved show with grins across their faces. This gave me an idea. I stroked Ellen's clit just enough to keep her simmering, and she begged for release.

"Mother, can you see how much this slut wants to cum?" I asked.

"Oh yes, Sir, she's almost coming apart as you stroke her needy pussy."

"Mmm, right, well, come over here and finish her off with your mouth, mother."

"Oh god, I ... I ... I've never done anything like that ..."

"Time to learn, then, mother. Shuck off the gown, come here right now and eat her out until she screams with ecstasy."

My mother moved somewhat hesitantly to the bed and worked her body between Ellen's naked thighs, She tentatively stuck out her tongue and started licking at Ellen's drooling, swollen love tunnel. The response was immediate. Ellen screamed, "Oh yes, please, that's so beautiful. You have a magic tongue, Sally—give me more, bite my clit, make me cum, oh god, make me cum, please, please bring me off mistress."

Phil and I looked at each other in amazement—Ellen calling my mother "mistress" as perhaps the last thing that either of us had imagined, but to me, the possibilities seemed almost endless.

My mother did as Ellen asked and worked her tongue, lips and teeth against her inflamed clit until she came in a long, ululating wail, shaking and thrashing and calling out in her lust.

Sally got up and wiped her mouth, not wanting to look at Phil or myself, and Phil went to Ellen, holding her protectively. Then, almost as if he didn't want the evening to end, Phil said, "Mother why don't we offer our guests a shower before they leave. It's been a busy evening?"

I agreed, feeling both amused and aroused; Ellen made it quite clear that she wanted to "wash my back". In the event, it was a most luxurious experience. Ellen joined me in the shower and we lathered each other, stroking and caressing in a mutual demonstration of lust and excitement. I resisted the temptation to take her again, although I think she may have been disappointed. I had my thoughts on another beguiling and inviting body.

We gathered our things together and said goodbye, Phil looking very full of himself as if he'd had a perfect evening, and Ellen looking at me as if I was some sort of minor deity.

The drive home was unusually quiet, and mum seemed preoccupied. I offered her a nightcap when we got back, and sitting in the lounge, mum turned to me and asked, "Simon, do you still love me?"

I was stunned. "Whatever gave you the idea that I don't? You are the most important person in my life, and nothing will change that. Now, just what's going on?"

"Well, I could hear you and Ellen in the next room, and she was screaming with delight, high on rapturous sex. I thought that, maybe ..."

I laughed, grabbing her in my arms and kissing her fiercely. "No, you silly girl, no one can take your place. All my erotic dreams are about you—the things I want to do to you, and the things we have already done together. Now strip for me, and I'll show you just exactly what I mean."

She laughed joyfully and was soon out of her clothes, dragging me towards our bedroom. She moved quickly into my arms and moulded her body to mine, making little mewling, humming noises of pleasure before I kissed her, soft and warm at first, but quickly developing into an all out lingual assault, our tongues writhing and working against each other, hot, wet, open and highly erotic.

I could feel the pressure of her tits hard and aroused, through my clothes. I stroked down her back and mauled her bottom, grasping and fondling the firm yet pliant flesh.

"Hmm, now, mother, your first task is to undress me so that we can compete equally. But I want to feel your hands all over me as you do so."

She kissed me again, wet and excited as she started the slow, tantalizing process of stripping me. Her touch was warm and eager, and by the time she removed my boxer's my rod was rock hard.

"Now, come here, slut and beg me to take you."

Her smile was smoky and lit by lust. "Ooh please, Sir, I am completely vulnerable to all your most intimate needs. You can do anything you want to me, just tell me how you want me and I'll be your whore."

My mother stood in front of me, still wearing the stockings, garter and heels—and an expression of such rapturous longing that I was almost tempted to throw her to the bed and **** her on the spot. I doubt that she would have resisted for one second.

I ran my hands over her body, concentrating on the swell of her breasts, the smooth roundness of her bottom and the so-familiar contours of her face. I kissed her ears, trickling into their regular shell-like contours, and licked down behind them to her neck.

This treatment was causing my mother to become frenzied, writhing in my arms and making inarticulate cries of hunger and elation.

I picked her up in my arms and placed her on the bed. She sprawled on her back, her legs spread wide in a carnal invitation, her pink outer lips coated in her dew and drawn back in expectation.

"Please, Sir, please fuck your slut. Please make me your special property. Own me, hurt me, make me scream ... oh god, I want you so much."

I proceeded to kiss my way down her body, avoiding her luscious mouth as it tried to capture mine. Along her neck, making her gasp and hum, then down to her breasts, kissing in a spiral from the outer swell into her crinkled aereola to her rigid nipple. I bit hard, causing her to scream—but to sob for more. I turned my attention to her other breast with the same result.

Then I moved down, rimming her belly-button, eventually arriving at her smooth mound. I kissed around the outside, down to the soft skin on the inside of her legs, generating moans and demands for more.

The I kissed upwards, peeling open her engorged lips and rolled my tongue to push it into her wet, inviting depths. She screamed as she pulled at my head, seemingly in an effort to bury me inside her, and my tongue found her clit, standing proud of its protective sheath. I nibbled at her hardening clit, making her screams louder and more urgent, then moved up and with one long, solid thrust, entered her love tunnel as its muscles squeezed and embraced me, trying to drag me still deeper.

She hummed and gasped as I rode her steadily with long unrelenting strokes. I felt me own orgasm start to build, and the pure unalloyed pleasure of controlling and fucking my own mother, with her total obedient acceptance grew in me, coming ever closer to the surface.

I changed to short, hard, brutal thrusts, forcing her body into the bed, but being rewarded by screams of the heady mix of pain and pleasure that ruled her life. Her legs wrapped around me, trying to force me into her body and her nails clawed into my shoulders, any pain being anesthetised by the sensual perfection of this i****tuous coupling.

Neither of us lasted much longer. I had no intention of holding back, and my climax became unstoppable. My seed blasted through my swollen cock into the warm, welcoming receptacle of her cunt, and she screamed even louder as this triggered her own climax. She writhed and shook as the storm of her orgasm swept over her, leaving her rigid, almost catatonic, before she collapsed, seemingly boneless, a collection of exhausted nerve endings.

I fell to the side, breathing heavily for a while, then propped myself onto one elbow, looking down at my exhausted mother. Her eyes opened and smiled in complete satisfaction. "Yes," she whispered, "yes," then wrapped one arm round my head and brought it down for a long highly sensual, voluptuous kiss.

"Does that go some way towards proving how I feel about you?" I asked.

Her eyes were drowsy and sated and suffused with love. "Simon, you are wonderful, and I will never doubt your love. I am your willing slut, and whatever you want to do is perfect for me."

Then she gave me a slow, lazy grin. "You know, you are so much better than Phil. He seems to think that good sex is me laying on my back while he pumps his cock into me and then just cums. No wonder Ellen is so hung up on you. Watch out for her, honey, or I might have real competition."

"Jealous, mum?" I asked, but with the faintest of hidden agendas.

"No, honey, so long as you always come back to me the way you just did, you can fuck the ass off Ellen for as long as you like. In fact, I'd like to be there to watch and hear her squirm and squeal under you."

"And maybe exercise your newfound taste for domination, 'mistress'?"

"Maybe, but I'll always be your sub, Sir."