Motherless Vintage
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Mother Begged Him 2 free porn video
330 part 2
They lay in late, it was Sunday, the thick curtains hid the light, she awoke to find her head lay on his shoulder, his arms still holding her as if loath to lose contact, now it had been made in this carnal fashion. Her bladder told her she needed to rise.
She slid from his arm and out of the bed, he grunted, but slept on, and she smiled, slipping quietly away to the toilet.
That relief over she still naked, wandered to the kitchen, on with the kettle, strong tea, she needed tea…and toast, she was hungry, yes toast…
In autopilot she made a pile of toast, golden brown, hot buttered toast with a tray she returned, opening the curtain, the sunlight waking him, as she passed him his tea, sharing the toast. She, laughing at his tousled hair, his still amazed face as he in a stupor reached out and touched her soft pendulous breasts just to prove it was no dream.
They silently drank the tea. He went off to pee, his mind unable to accept the change from mother and son, to lovers. Shaking his head as if to sort the muddled messages, his stream died, he shook it, looked at himself in the mirror, shook his head again this time in amazement then returned to her bed… no, not her bed, not his beloved mothers bed, it was now the bed, their bed… Still without a word he returned, opened that big old door, and mounted her once more. They both knew instantly it was to be a long sexual Sunday!
A week past, he initial excitement had waned a little, but it was still very strong, he had slept with her in that big bed nightly, working each day, eager to return home, having her each day before the meal was served, even his secretary, the dour Sandra, she of the twin set and pearls, and the frosty outlook, noted the spring in his step, his change in demeanour.
Life had become bearable once more. The one shadow that hung over him was those albums, the ones he had as yet not seen, they had vanished whisked away, returned no doubt to their hiding place, and his curiosity was piqued.
One afternoon when she had gone to her friend Samantha’s house, he lifted the picture to find the key, feeling like a voyeur, and a bit sneaky for doing so. But being mum she had outthought him, what he found was a note, it said, not yet please son, but soon .xxx
It made him smile, she had out-thought him.
It was a full three weeks till on coming home he found the third album waiting on his desk. It had been three great weeks of sex, vanilla-sex tis true but vanilla sex of a fantastic style that had kept them both in enjoyment and had eased both their frustrations.
He dumped his briefcase, and sat down at the desk, hardly daring to breath as he opened the first page, there was a note inside the leaf, it said, please son, don’t think ill of me, or your dad, we had fun in our lives enjoyed the thrill and the excitement, and no one got hurt, (except me physically later but that was another story.) and Yes, I shared myself with your uncle as you will see, but it was all good fun, and your dad and I loved it.in a depraved sort of way.
Xxx
he sat looking at the neat page, mixed feelings swept through his brain, and with great deliberation he slowly turned the next page.
It was indoors this time, he didn`t recognise the room, but the background glimpse through the window told him it overlooked the rear garden once more. The pictures all in black and white were clear and precise and began with a view of his mother, dressed in just her beautiful cream, silky 1950`s style underclothing, smooth and sleek. Over the next sequence of pictures taken by some type of timer, he saw his father, naked, sat on the floor, bound at the wrists, smiling, while keenly watching his brother removing his own young wife`s underclothing. Once naked she passively allowed her wrists to be bound and then her body to be led to her secure husband and made to straddle him. His uncle Oliver taking up the camera work once again as with her legs wide apart, she then began to pee on the bound brother. It was a deliberate callous act carried out in a most precise way, presumably to degrade the man, her stream hitting him squarely in the face, and mouth which in subservient way, he opened to accommodate her stream Uncle Oliver, followed that by roughly bending her over a stool and on the timer once more taking her in the most basic fashion in full view of her husband. It was brutal, and her face showed that she loved every moment of the act. She was then returned to the still bound man and he was forced to clean his brothers leavings from his wife, using his tongue. The very last frame being of her sex, in close up.
Somewhat confused he knew they needed to talk, she was out in her kitchen garden, so he went to her, taking her out glasses and a bottle of white wine he collected from the fridge as he passed. They sat on the bench, the warm sun making the wine most acceptable. She could see he was disturbed by the album, so said “So?” he explained that “erotic though it was, he didn’t understand the thinking behind the act!”
she smiled, “well, it`s complicated, you see both men had wooed me, your dad, my Jim had won, by a long chalk as it happened, but they as brothers wanted to share me.”
he nodded, she went on “now don’t you go thinking that your dad was a wimp, enjoying being a sub, he was no such thing, that, in reality was not what it was all about, but they took turns being dominant!
He nodded not really grasping the full implications as yet. “You will see in the other albums, that I wanted something else entirely, I wanted to be used and abused, by both of them, and not just in a ritualistic way, but savagely, erotically but sadistically, even painfully. I wanted to be a sexual plaything!” he asked, “do you still?” her answer was considered, then she said, “well I don’t know really, I thought I was over all that when first Olly, then Jim passed away, but then again I thought I would never have a man again and now look at us!”
He smiled, she went on that “of course once they got a taste for dominance there was no stopping them, well not till I fell pregnant of course, neither knew if they were your dad, and we never much cared, it was in the family, same DNA, so it didn’t matter much did it!”
“Oh, Jim loved you and did the father roll well, but Olly too was part of the equation. We were just like that! 5 blissful years passed before Olly died, he never did marry, and we played the whole time, they used me as a plaything and it was bliss.”
She looked wistfully distant, no doubt memories playing on her mind, then carried on her story, “Jim now coped alone, many is the night I was left in bondage, or slept with a striped backside, or worse.” She smiled, “those were the days! But it all stopped when he got ill, and now look at us, the apple never falls far from the tree they say, and its true if that video was to be relied on, I suppose you will want to play games…” her eyebrow raised in question and she received a very broad grin by way of a reply.
She took his hand, looked deep into his eyes and said, “my safe word was POPPY, but if you want another, say now”
he didn’t!
Then she kissed him once more and said “I need to pee and wash then perhaps as your so keen we can go to the playroom!” he looked at her amazed, “playroom?” she smiled there was obviously more he did not know about. To her surprise he said in a stern voice, “you don’t need wash, I want you as you are, and as to peeing here`s as good as wasting water, so get to it!” she hesitated, stood and slid down her panties, she was about to squat when he said “not there woman come over here,” he led her to a patch of waste ground beside the hedge. Nettles in abundance grew here, he stood her over the greenery and said “there, go there!” she knew that the nettles would sting her soft bit`s but she fixed him with a long stare, deliberately lined up a particularly big nettle clump and slowly squatted down. A small grunt of “ooh” as the things stung at her inner legs and the stream began, as a good strong gush between her shoes, his prick stiff now watching the display made better by the knowledge it was stinging her and would last a fair while. The stream died, and she looked up at him, without the pressure of the fluid the nettles began to straighten, lightly contacting her between her damp labia. Her eyes rolled, he knew the effect it was causing, and the willpower involved to remain there in contact, so he waited a second or two, then took her hand easing her to her feet. She stood relieved, but still smarting in the crevice of love, his command “show me the playroom” had them hand in hand walking up through the house, she led him silently to the master bedroom, round the bed, and with a swish moved the curtain, another hidden door was revealed.
Carefully he turned the brass knob, the unused hinges creaked, the door swung open and the extra room came into view.
She glanced at him, then clicked on the light. It was the very room of the album. A dusty doctors examination couch on the far wall from the window, a crucifix on the wall opposite the door, and a wardrobe behind the entrance, the only furnishings, though a pully and rope hung from the hook in the elderly high plasterwork of the ceiling.
She turned to the wardrobe, opening the door with a flourish. Straps, of all sizes, a crop, a barbers strop, cuffs, it was all their, things to beat, things to restrain, clamps, pegs, a feast of sexual equipment for any sadistic male.
His eyes lit up, then he marched her out and threw her on the bed, opening her legs to examine the red nettle rash, leaping on her, no preamble just up and banging away, each inward thrust accompanied by a word; you- dare- take- me- into- such- a- place-, and- not- have- it- cleaned- for- me- first, she looked back at him, a little shocked as he continued, you- will- clean- it- up and- be- ready- to- be punished- when- I- get- home- tomorrow- understand. With the last word he ejaculated, then simply rolled off and went to sleep! She did a mock salute and whispered, “yes sir,” then smiling she turned over muttering something about chips and old blocks!
Part 2
The next day he was gone early it was a long slow day, she cleaned the playroom top to bottom alive to the memories of her screams that had prompted her husband to triple glaze and soundproof the whole room, remembering Oliver her brother-in-law and co-master, and his whip, and his love of leaving her overnight secured so that moving was impossible. Of her husband and the tiny toothed pegs that he so loved to attach to her tenderest parts, and the needles he had pierced her breasts and nipples with, and her joy at being his, well in truth theirs!
As she scrubbed the wet room type floor, she mused as to what particular brand of pain her son would be most likely to inflict, a shudder running through her body as she imagined all sorts of vivid images, her tongue licking at her lips in anticipation. She checked her watch as she hastened to answer the phone at it insistent ring…it was him, Trevor, saying for her to be dressed as per the note behind the kitchen clock and to be ready taken to Valentino`s for a meal promptly at six. He rang off, not bothering if she was understanding fully, or midway through cooking a meal.
She hastened to the clock, finding the note, and reading it avidly as if it was the magna-charter.
It said; I`ve thought of nothing overnight but you mother, and I have decided that it might not be completely what you wish to be dominated by me. it may be just a fantasy, so I`ve decided on a test, if its not 100% what you want then don’t complete this task, just appear dressed normally and I will take you for a meal with nothing more said. If not you must comply exactly to the letter and dress in the clothes I have selected for you laid on the spare bed, the twist being you must be wearing a pin bra of your own making, as well, how many pins is the test of how much you want this, and we shall say nothing of it until we are home, in fact better you understand that from now on we shall forever only mention this stuff when we are in the house or grounds.
It was signed Trevor.
In no time flat she was up to the spare room looking at the clothes he had selected. A medium length maroon skirt/ jacket combo and a Spanish blouse in thin white see-through silk, a maroon deep-line bra and neither nickers or tights but high heel shoes again in maroon, set off with a matching handbag. She looked at the set-up, knowing it was what she had worn to the last year`s Christmas party, and wondering if he had been harbouring thoughts about her since then. She knew it was a case of complete this Gesture or never mention it again, she lifted the bra, turned determinedly and was soon in his study. Thumb tacks she found in the desk, a full packet right on the top and obviously placed to hand.
With blue tack and Sellotape, she soon had the bra lined with a dozen pins in either cup, then checking the time she showered, added a touch of perfume, and a spray of antiseptic before wincing as she bent forward to seat her breasts gently but very firmly in the cups of the pinned bra, stretching to secure the line of fiddly rear hooks causing her a misery of discomfort. In fact, every move as she dressed reminded her of those tiny teeth, especially the ones near areola or nipple. Carrying her shoe`s she locked up and was awaiting his return on the front steps as his car swung in at the gateway exactly on time, followed by a local taxi. He locked his motor, better not to drink and drive
He looked approvingly at the clothing, then with not a word held the taxi door and settling her in her seat, set off for his favourite eating place.
She held the seat belt from contact with the pins, he smiled, fifteen minutes had them seated in a booth in the corner.
The waiter, Carlos, was more than attentive, showing them the menu and the drinks list, while her imagination telling her blood was seeping from her pierced breasts and would soon be visible to the tall and eagle-eyed Spaniard, but she had no worries in reality, the tiny teeth were just causing her to sweat with anxiety.
He quietly told her to remove her jacket and hang it from the chair back, this she reluctantly did but not without a lot more pain, he grinned and said, “isn’t life a pain in the tits some days,” then smiling at Carlos and ordering.
The meal was long and reasonably drawn out,
At one point he sent her to the toilet, saying to fit the two clamps she would find in the handbag to her labia, then return. Just as she was told, she did, returning and sitting opposite him. He told her to “sit with her hands on the table and not to move them at all no matter what.” She again did as she was told. He in turn calling over the waiter, who approached, and stood attentively. “Carlos, I want you to reach under madams skirt and check she is wearing my special jewellery. Without as much as a smile the tall Spaniard bent to his task,
His cold hand sliding up to her sex along her leg, his cool touch finding both clamp grips, and then her clitorise, all without even a slight change of facial expression. He withdrew his hand and reported that “the jewellery was indeed in place sir.” By now her face was a pillar box red, as he dismissed the waiter, saying “thank you Carlos, as a tip perhaps you would enjoy feeling her breasts before we go.”
Luckily the place was not overfull, her glance at her son showed her terror as the waiters hands went around her from behind and gently but unknowingly squeezing the soft tissue. Tears appeared but resolutely she kept her hands still on the table though as he found the nipples it was touch and go.
Carlos removed his pawing fingers, at the request for a taxi and thanking Trevor withdrew.
Her sons broad grin was a picture, he said she could relax now, he would pay the bill, and they would go.
They were soon home, stood on the front step, he told her to strip to her underclothing, which she did, standing naked but for her painful bra in the moonlight. “did dad humiliate you like that?” he asked. She said “not quite like that but he had humiliated her on occasions, on one trip showing a bus conductor certain pictures of her, her tits red with cane stripes, her face clearly identifiable, that had her red and blustering. That his dad had her sign it for the man added to the effect!
He laughed, had her lay out on the dewy lawn, removed the two clips and took her as only a sadistic pervert could, hard and heavy his hands clasping the pin encrusted bra like handholds on the north face.
It all added to the climax they both enjoyed together.
Indoors after the act, he enjoyed removing the bra, peeling the straps away and easing the thing from one then the other breast, allowing him to count the indentations, and evaluate the discomfort she had endured.
He was impressed.
They lay in late, it was Sunday, the thick curtains hid the light, she awoke to find her head lay on his shoulder, his arms still holding her as if loath to lose contact, now it had been made in this carnal fashion. Her bladder told her she needed to rise.
She slid from his arm and out of the bed, he grunted, but slept on, and she smiled, slipping quietly away to the toilet.
That relief over she still naked, wandered to the kitchen, on with the kettle, strong tea, she needed tea…and toast, she was hungry, yes toast…
In autopilot she made a pile of toast, golden brown, hot buttered toast with a tray she returned, opening the curtain, the sunlight waking him, as she passed him his tea, sharing the toast. She, laughing at his tousled hair, his still amazed face as he in a stupor reached out and touched her soft pendulous breasts just to prove it was no dream.
They silently drank the tea. He went off to pee, his mind unable to accept the change from mother and son, to lovers. Shaking his head as if to sort the muddled messages, his stream died, he shook it, looked at himself in the mirror, shook his head again this time in amazement then returned to her bed… no, not her bed, not his beloved mothers bed, it was now the bed, their bed… Still without a word he returned, opened that big old door, and mounted her once more. They both knew instantly it was to be a long sexual Sunday!
A week past, he initial excitement had waned a little, but it was still very strong, he had slept with her in that big bed nightly, working each day, eager to return home, having her each day before the meal was served, even his secretary, the dour Sandra, she of the twin set and pearls, and the frosty outlook, noted the spring in his step, his change in demeanour.
Life had become bearable once more. The one shadow that hung over him was those albums, the ones he had as yet not seen, they had vanished whisked away, returned no doubt to their hiding place, and his curiosity was piqued.
One afternoon when she had gone to her friend Samantha’s house, he lifted the picture to find the key, feeling like a voyeur, and a bit sneaky for doing so. But being mum she had outthought him, what he found was a note, it said, not yet please son, but soon .xxx
It made him smile, she had out-thought him.
It was a full three weeks till on coming home he found the third album waiting on his desk. It had been three great weeks of sex, vanilla-sex tis true but vanilla sex of a fantastic style that had kept them both in enjoyment and had eased both their frustrations.
He dumped his briefcase, and sat down at the desk, hardly daring to breath as he opened the first page, there was a note inside the leaf, it said, please son, don’t think ill of me, or your dad, we had fun in our lives enjoyed the thrill and the excitement, and no one got hurt, (except me physically later but that was another story.) and Yes, I shared myself with your uncle as you will see, but it was all good fun, and your dad and I loved it.in a depraved sort of way.
Xxx
he sat looking at the neat page, mixed feelings swept through his brain, and with great deliberation he slowly turned the next page.
It was indoors this time, he didn`t recognise the room, but the background glimpse through the window told him it overlooked the rear garden once more. The pictures all in black and white were clear and precise and began with a view of his mother, dressed in just her beautiful cream, silky 1950`s style underclothing, smooth and sleek. Over the next sequence of pictures taken by some type of timer, he saw his father, naked, sat on the floor, bound at the wrists, smiling, while keenly watching his brother removing his own young wife`s underclothing. Once naked she passively allowed her wrists to be bound and then her body to be led to her secure husband and made to straddle him. His uncle Oliver taking up the camera work once again as with her legs wide apart, she then began to pee on the bound brother. It was a deliberate callous act carried out in a most precise way, presumably to degrade the man, her stream hitting him squarely in the face, and mouth which in subservient way, he opened to accommodate her stream Uncle Oliver, followed that by roughly bending her over a stool and on the timer once more taking her in the most basic fashion in full view of her husband. It was brutal, and her face showed that she loved every moment of the act. She was then returned to the still bound man and he was forced to clean his brothers leavings from his wife, using his tongue. The very last frame being of her sex, in close up.
Somewhat confused he knew they needed to talk, she was out in her kitchen garden, so he went to her, taking her out glasses and a bottle of white wine he collected from the fridge as he passed. They sat on the bench, the warm sun making the wine most acceptable. She could see he was disturbed by the album, so said “So?” he explained that “erotic though it was, he didn’t understand the thinking behind the act!”
she smiled, “well, it`s complicated, you see both men had wooed me, your dad, my Jim had won, by a long chalk as it happened, but they as brothers wanted to share me.”
he nodded, she went on “now don’t you go thinking that your dad was a wimp, enjoying being a sub, he was no such thing, that, in reality was not what it was all about, but they took turns being dominant!
He nodded not really grasping the full implications as yet. “You will see in the other albums, that I wanted something else entirely, I wanted to be used and abused, by both of them, and not just in a ritualistic way, but savagely, erotically but sadistically, even painfully. I wanted to be a sexual plaything!” he asked, “do you still?” her answer was considered, then she said, “well I don’t know really, I thought I was over all that when first Olly, then Jim passed away, but then again I thought I would never have a man again and now look at us!”
He smiled, she went on that “of course once they got a taste for dominance there was no stopping them, well not till I fell pregnant of course, neither knew if they were your dad, and we never much cared, it was in the family, same DNA, so it didn’t matter much did it!”
“Oh, Jim loved you and did the father roll well, but Olly too was part of the equation. We were just like that! 5 blissful years passed before Olly died, he never did marry, and we played the whole time, they used me as a plaything and it was bliss.”
She looked wistfully distant, no doubt memories playing on her mind, then carried on her story, “Jim now coped alone, many is the night I was left in bondage, or slept with a striped backside, or worse.” She smiled, “those were the days! But it all stopped when he got ill, and now look at us, the apple never falls far from the tree they say, and its true if that video was to be relied on, I suppose you will want to play games…” her eyebrow raised in question and she received a very broad grin by way of a reply.
She took his hand, looked deep into his eyes and said, “my safe word was POPPY, but if you want another, say now”
he didn’t!
Then she kissed him once more and said “I need to pee and wash then perhaps as your so keen we can go to the playroom!” he looked at her amazed, “playroom?” she smiled there was obviously more he did not know about. To her surprise he said in a stern voice, “you don’t need wash, I want you as you are, and as to peeing here`s as good as wasting water, so get to it!” she hesitated, stood and slid down her panties, she was about to squat when he said “not there woman come over here,” he led her to a patch of waste ground beside the hedge. Nettles in abundance grew here, he stood her over the greenery and said “there, go there!” she knew that the nettles would sting her soft bit`s but she fixed him with a long stare, deliberately lined up a particularly big nettle clump and slowly squatted down. A small grunt of “ooh” as the things stung at her inner legs and the stream began, as a good strong gush between her shoes, his prick stiff now watching the display made better by the knowledge it was stinging her and would last a fair while. The stream died, and she looked up at him, without the pressure of the fluid the nettles began to straighten, lightly contacting her between her damp labia. Her eyes rolled, he knew the effect it was causing, and the willpower involved to remain there in contact, so he waited a second or two, then took her hand easing her to her feet. She stood relieved, but still smarting in the crevice of love, his command “show me the playroom” had them hand in hand walking up through the house, she led him silently to the master bedroom, round the bed, and with a swish moved the curtain, another hidden door was revealed.
Carefully he turned the brass knob, the unused hinges creaked, the door swung open and the extra room came into view.
She glanced at him, then clicked on the light. It was the very room of the album. A dusty doctors examination couch on the far wall from the window, a crucifix on the wall opposite the door, and a wardrobe behind the entrance, the only furnishings, though a pully and rope hung from the hook in the elderly high plasterwork of the ceiling.
She turned to the wardrobe, opening the door with a flourish. Straps, of all sizes, a crop, a barbers strop, cuffs, it was all their, things to beat, things to restrain, clamps, pegs, a feast of sexual equipment for any sadistic male.
His eyes lit up, then he marched her out and threw her on the bed, opening her legs to examine the red nettle rash, leaping on her, no preamble just up and banging away, each inward thrust accompanied by a word; you- dare- take- me- into- such- a- place-, and- not- have- it- cleaned- for- me- first, she looked back at him, a little shocked as he continued, you- will- clean- it- up and- be- ready- to- be punished- when- I- get- home- tomorrow- understand. With the last word he ejaculated, then simply rolled off and went to sleep! She did a mock salute and whispered, “yes sir,” then smiling she turned over muttering something about chips and old blocks!
Part 2
The next day he was gone early it was a long slow day, she cleaned the playroom top to bottom alive to the memories of her screams that had prompted her husband to triple glaze and soundproof the whole room, remembering Oliver her brother-in-law and co-master, and his whip, and his love of leaving her overnight secured so that moving was impossible. Of her husband and the tiny toothed pegs that he so loved to attach to her tenderest parts, and the needles he had pierced her breasts and nipples with, and her joy at being his, well in truth theirs!
As she scrubbed the wet room type floor, she mused as to what particular brand of pain her son would be most likely to inflict, a shudder running through her body as she imagined all sorts of vivid images, her tongue licking at her lips in anticipation. She checked her watch as she hastened to answer the phone at it insistent ring…it was him, Trevor, saying for her to be dressed as per the note behind the kitchen clock and to be ready taken to Valentino`s for a meal promptly at six. He rang off, not bothering if she was understanding fully, or midway through cooking a meal.
She hastened to the clock, finding the note, and reading it avidly as if it was the magna-charter.
It said; I`ve thought of nothing overnight but you mother, and I have decided that it might not be completely what you wish to be dominated by me. it may be just a fantasy, so I`ve decided on a test, if its not 100% what you want then don’t complete this task, just appear dressed normally and I will take you for a meal with nothing more said. If not you must comply exactly to the letter and dress in the clothes I have selected for you laid on the spare bed, the twist being you must be wearing a pin bra of your own making, as well, how many pins is the test of how much you want this, and we shall say nothing of it until we are home, in fact better you understand that from now on we shall forever only mention this stuff when we are in the house or grounds.
It was signed Trevor.
In no time flat she was up to the spare room looking at the clothes he had selected. A medium length maroon skirt/ jacket combo and a Spanish blouse in thin white see-through silk, a maroon deep-line bra and neither nickers or tights but high heel shoes again in maroon, set off with a matching handbag. She looked at the set-up, knowing it was what she had worn to the last year`s Christmas party, and wondering if he had been harbouring thoughts about her since then. She knew it was a case of complete this Gesture or never mention it again, she lifted the bra, turned determinedly and was soon in his study. Thumb tacks she found in the desk, a full packet right on the top and obviously placed to hand.
With blue tack and Sellotape, she soon had the bra lined with a dozen pins in either cup, then checking the time she showered, added a touch of perfume, and a spray of antiseptic before wincing as she bent forward to seat her breasts gently but very firmly in the cups of the pinned bra, stretching to secure the line of fiddly rear hooks causing her a misery of discomfort. In fact, every move as she dressed reminded her of those tiny teeth, especially the ones near areola or nipple. Carrying her shoe`s she locked up and was awaiting his return on the front steps as his car swung in at the gateway exactly on time, followed by a local taxi. He locked his motor, better not to drink and drive
He looked approvingly at the clothing, then with not a word held the taxi door and settling her in her seat, set off for his favourite eating place.
She held the seat belt from contact with the pins, he smiled, fifteen minutes had them seated in a booth in the corner.
The waiter, Carlos, was more than attentive, showing them the menu and the drinks list, while her imagination telling her blood was seeping from her pierced breasts and would soon be visible to the tall and eagle-eyed Spaniard, but she had no worries in reality, the tiny teeth were just causing her to sweat with anxiety.
He quietly told her to remove her jacket and hang it from the chair back, this she reluctantly did but not without a lot more pain, he grinned and said, “isn’t life a pain in the tits some days,” then smiling at Carlos and ordering.
The meal was long and reasonably drawn out,
At one point he sent her to the toilet, saying to fit the two clamps she would find in the handbag to her labia, then return. Just as she was told, she did, returning and sitting opposite him. He told her to “sit with her hands on the table and not to move them at all no matter what.” She again did as she was told. He in turn calling over the waiter, who approached, and stood attentively. “Carlos, I want you to reach under madams skirt and check she is wearing my special jewellery. Without as much as a smile the tall Spaniard bent to his task,
His cold hand sliding up to her sex along her leg, his cool touch finding both clamp grips, and then her clitorise, all without even a slight change of facial expression. He withdrew his hand and reported that “the jewellery was indeed in place sir.” By now her face was a pillar box red, as he dismissed the waiter, saying “thank you Carlos, as a tip perhaps you would enjoy feeling her breasts before we go.”
Luckily the place was not overfull, her glance at her son showed her terror as the waiters hands went around her from behind and gently but unknowingly squeezing the soft tissue. Tears appeared but resolutely she kept her hands still on the table though as he found the nipples it was touch and go.
Carlos removed his pawing fingers, at the request for a taxi and thanking Trevor withdrew.
Her sons broad grin was a picture, he said she could relax now, he would pay the bill, and they would go.
They were soon home, stood on the front step, he told her to strip to her underclothing, which she did, standing naked but for her painful bra in the moonlight. “did dad humiliate you like that?” he asked. She said “not quite like that but he had humiliated her on occasions, on one trip showing a bus conductor certain pictures of her, her tits red with cane stripes, her face clearly identifiable, that had her red and blustering. That his dad had her sign it for the man added to the effect!
He laughed, had her lay out on the dewy lawn, removed the two clips and took her as only a sadistic pervert could, hard and heavy his hands clasping the pin encrusted bra like handholds on the north face.
It all added to the climax they both enjoyed together.
Indoors after the act, he enjoyed removing the bra, peeling the straps away and easing the thing from one then the other breast, allowing him to count the indentations, and evaluate the discomfort she had endured.
He was impressed.
Vera
- 23.11.2021
- 5
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