Big, buxom Martha Klane snarled, "You nasty little boy!"
She was spanking sixteen year old Mark Tyler, the son of her next-door neighbors. The naked teenager was stretched across her lap.
His hands were tied behind his back. Tears ran down his face. Martha was using a leather strap to whip his bottom, and she had a strong arm.
She was a voluptuous middle-aged brunette. She had big breasts, wide womanly hips, and warm, smooth, powerful thighs.
She wore a sexy black nightie, a pair of satin panties, and high-heeled shoes. She held Mark tightly on her lap as she whipped him.
To his horror, his penis became erect. It was long and stiff and hot. It rubbed against her bare thighs as he squirmed in her lap.
She cracked the strap down on his bottom again and again. The pain was great, but the sensual friction and sexual excitement were even greater.
Mark groaned with shame as he came all over her lap. She angrily pushed him to the floor. His red cock spurted semen.
She rose up, shivering with wrath. Semen glistened on her naked thighs. She said, "You filthy little wretch! Now you're really going to be punished!"
CHAPTER ONE
The telephone rang during dinnertime at Martha Klane's house.
Three people sat at the table in the kitchen. There was Martha, her daughter Denise, and a visitor who was staying with them, Mark Tyler.
The phone rang again. Denise pushed back her chair. "I'll get it, Mother! It's probably for me, anyway!"
"Sit down and eat your dinner," Martha said. "I'll get the phone, dear." She stood up, crossed the kitchen, and answered the phone.
She said, "Martha Klane speaking ... Who's this? Miss Dimmler, from the high school? Why, hello, Miss Dimmler. How nice to speak to you again."
Mark said, "Gee, Denise, how come Miss Dimmler is calling your house?"
"I don't know," Denise said. Her face was glum. She was a pretty girl in her early teens, tall and slender, with budding breasts.
She wore a fluffy pink sweater, a white blouse beneath it, a plaid skirt which reached her knees, knee socks, and low-heeled, sensible shoes.
Her light brown hair was very long. She wore it in a pair of braids, which hung down to her small but perfect breasts.
She didn't look very happy. She picked listlessly at the food on her plate. She moved it around, but didn't eat any.
Mark didn't have any trouble with his appetite. He was famished. He helped himself to another serving of potatoes.
He was sixteen years old, slim, and of medium height. He had short blonde hair, green eyes, and handsome features which were somewhat ruined by the weakness of his sullen, pouting mouth.
Mark's parents were James and Barbara Tyler. They were Martha's next-door neighbors. They had gone away on a vacation for a week.
During that time, Mark was going to stay over at Martha's house. He didn't want to. He had been looking forward to a week of glorious freedom without his parents around to make him do his homework and go to bed at regular hours.
That was just what his mother had suspected he would do, so she had arranged with her very good friend Martha to take charge of the boy while she and her husband were away. This was the first night that Mark would be staying over.
Miss Dimmler was saying something to Martha over the phone. As she listened, her dark eyebrows knitted together in a frown.
She glared at her teenaged daughter. Denise was staring down at the plate. Her face was flushed and red, and she seemed very unhappy.
Martha glared at Denise. She said to Miss Dimmler, "Oh she did, did she? Well, you can be sure that I'll put a stop to that in a hurry!"
Mark said, "Hey, Denise, it sounds like you're in trouble!"
"Oh, shut up, Mark," Denise said. "Why don't you try minding your own business for a change? Don't be such a jerk!"
"All I wanted to do was mind my own business," Mark said. "But my mom made me stay over here, so your mother could mind my business."
Martha said, "Thank you for calling, Miss Dimmler. I appreciate it. Yes, I've always felt that parents and teachers must work closely together, to help the children grow up properly. Yes, I'll take care of it. Thanks again. Goodbye."
She hung up the phone. She spread her legs, and put her hands on her hips.
She was a big-boned, buxom brunette in her mid-forties. She had a voluptuous physique that was inclined to plumpness.
Her face was wide. She had a long, thin nose, wide dark eyes, and a wide-lipped, sensuous mouth. Her lips were covered with glossy red lipstick.
Her breasts were heavy, and lushly abundant. They were a size 42-DD, and she required a specially wired and reinforced bra to give her the support she needed.
Her middle was thick, but not fat. Her waist swelled out into wide, fleshy hips. Her thighs were plump, and her calves were strong and shapely.
Her ankles were surprisingly slender. She wore a pair of black shoes with pointed toes and low heels. Even with the low heels, she was unusually tall.
She wore a red blouse and a charcoal gray skirt. Her legs were covered with stockings, not pantyhose. Her hands were plump, with red nails.
She tapped her foot ominously on the floor. "I suppose you know why Miss Dimmler called me, Denise." Her statement was not a question.
Denise swallowed hard. In a small, little-girl voice she said, "Yes, I do, Mother. It's because I got caught cutting her class today."
"Why didn't you tell me about this yourself?" Martha demanded. "I would have preferred hearing it from you, and not from her!"
"I'm sorry, Mother. I guess that I thought that she might not call after all." Denise kept staring at the table, and wouldn't look up.
Mark felt the uncomfortable feeling that a guest has when he witnesses a family dispute taking place. He liked to tease Denise, but he felt sorry for her now.
From what he had seen of Martha Klane, he knew that she could be very strict and severe when her daughter misbehaved or broke one of her many rules.
Martha said, "I'm very disappointed in you, Denise. Not only did you cut your class, but you didn't confess your wrongdoing to me."
She sat back down at the table. "Lift up your head and look at me, Denise." Her voice rang with authority and unquestioned power.
Denise looked at her. Her eyes were moist, and threatened to shed tears at any moment. Her lower lip and chin were trembling.
Martha said calmly, "I'm going to have to punish you, Denise."
Mark looked down at his own plate. He tried to be as invisible as possible. He felt embarrassed for Denise. Oddly enough, his own ears were red and burning.
Denise gasped, "Mother, must you? I know that I deserve it, but couldn't you wait until next week, when Mark is gone?"
"No, I could not, child," Martha said. "You know how I operate, miss. The punishment follows the crime as soon as possible."
She turned to Mark. "I'll have to explain this to you, Mark. I have very definite rules of conduct for Denise. When she breaks them, she is punished. She knows that, and she broke the rules anyway. But I don't intend to break my own, and I'm going to punish her even though you are visiting here."
Mark didn't know what to say. "Well, it's your house, and she's your daughter, Mrs. Klane." Martha was a widow whose husband had died years ago.
Martha said, "It's embarrassing for Denise to be disciplined when outsiders are present, but that's just too bad for her. She should have thought of that before she was so disobedient. Now, she'll have to pay the price."
Denise put down her fork. "Mother, please! This is so humiliating! Do you have to talk about it in front of Mark? Can't it wait for later?"
Martha snapped, "You mind your manners or I'll take you over my knee right now and give you what's coming to you in full!"
Denise's short-lived rebellion died away instantly. She mumbled, "I'm sorry, Mother. I forgot myself. Please excuse me."
"You're going to be punished after dinner, Denise. And I don't want to hear another word on the subject." Martha resumed eating her dinner.
Mark looked at her out of the corner of his eye. The thought struck him that Martha Klane was a very intimidating person to have angry at you.
After a moment, Denise asked if she could be excused from the table. She said that she wasn't hungry. Martha told her to finish her dinner.
The rest of the meal passed in silence. Mark heard the sound of silverware clicking against plates, and the low, ominous hum of the refrigerator.
After the dinner was finished, Denise got up and gathered the plates. Mark noticed that her hands were trembling.
Martha put out dessert, and poured herself a cup of coffee. Denise didn't have any dessert. She sat with her hands folded on the table, and her head bowed.
Mark said, "May I have some coffee, Mrs. Klane?" He was surprised when she said no to his request. He was surprised, and somewhat upset.
Martha explained, "I'm sorry, Mark, but I don't think that youngsters should take stimulants like coffee so close to bedtime."
He said, "But my mom always lets me drink coffee, Mrs. Klane!"
"Well, when you're back home at your house, you can drink all the coffee you want. But while you're staying here, you'll have to abide by my rules."
Mark grumbled some more. Martha reminded him that his mother had told him that he should obey her, and do what she told him to do.
He had to settle for a glass of milk instead. He wasn't happy about it. He wasn't looking forward to the prospect of being under Martha's supervision for a week.
When dessert was done, Denise cleared the table. Martha said, "Mark, you can help Denise with the dishes. She'll wash them, and you can dry them."
Mark liked that even less than not being allowed the coffee. However, considering the mood she was in, he decided to protest about it at a better time.
Denise filled the sink with hot, soapy water, and began washing the dirty dishes. Mark stood next to her, his hands dangling awkwardly at his sides.
He wore a flannel shirt and a pair of brown slacks. Martha got up and came over to the sink. Her heavy breasts strained against the front of her blouse.
She said, "I don't want you to get water stains on your clothes, Mark. Here, put this on." She held out an apron to him.
He stared at her, his face red. "Are you kidding, Mrs. Klane?! I can't wear that! That's an apron for girls! I'd feel stupid in it!"
She said, "You'll feel even more stupid if you mess your nice clothes. An apron isn't just for women. It's convenient and practical."
The apron was pink, and decorated with a floral design. It had a frilly white flounce of ruffled lace trimming the hem.
Mark tried to argue with her, but she wouldn't hear it. He started whining, and she got very cold and stern. He got the idea that he better not argue anymore.
He made faces and pouted as he took the apron from her. He held it to his front, and fumbled with the drawstrings.
"Here, let me do that," she said. She moved so that she stood behind him.
She pulled the apron strings around his slender waist. Her breasts nudged his shoulder. His face reddened, and he fidgeted.
He could smell the perfume of her hair. He thought that he could actually feel the heat of her body on his bare skin, but perhaps that was his imagination.
She tied the strings in a neat bow at the small of his back. "Don't you ever do the dishes at your house to help out your mother, Mark."
He told her that he didn't. Martha said, "Hmmm, I'll have to speak to Barbara about that. Household chores are a good way to teach children the meaning of discipline and responsibility, to my way of thinking."
When she finished knotting the bow, she gave him a little pat on the behind. "There," she said, "now you're all set to go to work."
Mark stood next to Denise. She handed him the wet dishes, and he toweled them dry. Neither of them said more than a few words.
When the last dish was dried, Martha said, "Go up to your room and get ready for your punishment, Denise." Denise silently left the room.
Martha picked up one of the dishes that Mark had dried. She scowled as she saw some water spots. "You didn't do a very thorough job, Mark."
He said that he was sorry, but that this was the first time that he had done such a domestic chore. Martha smiled and told him he would get better when he had more practice.
She showed him where the dishes went, and helped him put them away. He stared at her jiggling breasts as she stood on tiptoe to stack some plates on the shelf.
When the job was done, she said, "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She took the apron off him. Her hand brushed his bottom, making his flesh tingle.
She told him that he was free to do what he liked until bedtime. She said, "I know that you're a good student, Mark, but it wouldn't hurt for you to do some more studying."
He told her he would think about it. She said, "And now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to with my disobedient daughter."
She left the kitchen. Her plump buttocks rolled and swayed under her gray skirt as she walked. She went upstairs to the second floor.
Mark wandered into the living room. He paused to look at a photograph in a frame which was sitting on the mantle. The picture was of Martha's other daughter, Christina.
Christina was twenty-four years old, and gorgeous. Mark had had a raging crush on her ever since he reached puberty.
Christina, or Chris, as she was called, was a beautiful brunette. She had lush breasts, a wasp waist, and long, luscious legs.
Sometimes, during the summer, she would tan herself in the backyard, wearing only a scanty bikini as she lay stretched on a blanket. Mark would watch her for hours.
At night, when it was warm, he used to hide in the bushes and peep through her bedroom window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her without her clothes on.
One frantic night, he had actually seen her walking around in her bra and panties. He was so excited, that he masturbated to orgasm right in the bushes.
Unfortunately, Chris no longer lived at home. She had an apartment in the city, although she often visited her family.
Mark hoped that Chris would come for a visit while he was staying here. That would be one thing that might make his stay at Martha's almost tolerable.
He had left his book upstairs, in the guest room. He climbed the stairs to the second floor.
He went into the guest room, found the book, and went back into the hall. He slowed to a halt as he passed Denise's room.
The door, while shut, was slightly ajar, so that it was open just a hairline crack. He could hear Martha and her daughter talking, but he couldn't make out the words. He knew that he should go downstairs, but he burned with curiosity.
Quietly and cautiously he moved to the door. He had planned to listen only, but he realized that the door was open enough for him to peep into the girl's bedroom.
He did-and had to stifle a gasp at what he saw.
Martha sat on Denise's bed. Her gray skirt was hiked to the tops of her thighs. Mark could see her stocking tops and the plump white thighs above them.
She wore garters. At first Mark didn't know what they were, since his mother and all the young ladies of his acquaintance wore pantyhose.
The hem of her skirt just covered the leg openings of her panties. The metal garter tabs gleamed against the dark stocking tops.
Her blouse was open, unbuttoned to the center of her breasts. He could see the soft, abundant flesh of her bosom, and the bra cups that supported her breasts.
She wore a sexy, black satin bra. Mark was shocked and thrilled. He never dreamed that the buxom but severe Martha Klane wore such stimulating garments.
From the angle at which he saw the room, he could see only Martha at first. Then she called Denise to her, and the girl went to the bed.
If Mark had been excited by seeing Martha, he nearly fell on the floor when he saw Denise. She didn't have any clothes on!
He gasped. He was immediately filled with fear that he had been overheard. But Martha and her daughter didn't seem to have noticed.
Mark's eyes were bulging. He couldn't believe that he was actually seeing what he was seeing. His stomach knotted with excitement.
Denise was slight and slender. Her breasts were small buds of flesh, with tiny pink nipples. The roseates were round and neat, like pink circles.
Her skin was smooth and creamy and flawless. Her tummy was flat. Her navel was like a little pink pearl set in her belly.
Her hips were slender, and her hipbones jutted out. Her pussy was very lightly bushed. The soft hair was brown, and slightly lighter in color than the hair on her head. Her pussy lips were barely covered by it. They were pink and thin.
Her bottom was surprisingly rounded and curved. It was a pair of soft, smooth white globes, high and firm, and split like the halves of a plum.
Mark was amazed. He was no virgin, but his sexual experience was very limited. He had lost his cherry to the high school tramp in the back seat of a buddy's car.
That had been in the dark, frantic and furtive. The girl was heavy, with an oily complexion, a thick belly, and small breasts.
She had pulled down her panties and pulled up her skirt and laid down on the back seat. Her thighs were white and doughy, and her bush was thick and black.
Mark had been very excited. He couldn't hold back. He had fumbled his cock at her pussy lips until she finally took hold of his member and guided it inside her.
It had lasted about five minutes. Mark was so hot that he couldn't hold back, and didn't even think of trying. He came inside her.
After it was over, he just wanted to pull out of her, go away, and never see her again. She didn't seem too impressed with him, either.
Her name was Marie. She was a brunette with a round moon face. Ever since, he had avoided her at the high school and at after-school social functions.
Mark had never seen a girl fully naked, except in pictures in girlie magazines that the cranky local newsdealer sometimes sold to him.
He had never realized how sexy Denise was. He had always thought of her as just a kid, especially since he had such a crush on her stacked older sister.
Now, he realized that he would have to revise his thinking. Denise was lovely, with a great body, although her breasts were a bit small for his taste.
Denise held something in her right hand. Mark realized that it was a hair brush.
Denise stood in front of her mother. Her head was bowed. She handed Martha the brush. Martha said, "What do you say, Denise?"
"I've been a bad girl, Mother," Denise mumbled. "I deserve to be spanked. Please give me a spanking, Mother. I need it."
"That you do," Martha agreed, "and that's what you're going to get! You know the position, Denise. Get across my lap, now!"
Denise stretched across her mother's plump lap. Her small breasts rubbed against Martha's stockinged thigh. Martha pulled the girl closer to her.
She put her arm around Denise's waist, and shifted the girl into position.
Martha picked up the brush. "You're going to get twenty-five strokes for the crime of cutting your math class today, child!"
"Twenty-five!" Denise wailed. "That's so many, Mother!"
"I haven't finished speaking, child," Martha said. "In addition to the twenty-five, you're going to get an additional ten strokes."
Martha explained that she was adding the extra ten strokes because Denise had done wrong and compounded her crime by not freely confessing it to her mother.
She rubbed the flat side of the brush against Denise's bottom. The girl's cheeks rippled and jiggled. Martha told her to stop clenching her buttocks.
She lifted the brush high, then brought it down heavily on Denise's bottom. There was the meaty sound of wood striking soft flesh.
Denise groaned. There was a red splotch where the brush struck her.
"That's the first," Martha said. "Only thirty-four more to go, child!"
Martha got down to business. She applied the brush to her daughter's bottom with hard-hitting accuracy and precision.
Soon, Denise writhed and moaned on Martha's lap. Tears spilled from the teenager's eyes. Her bottom began to glow bright red.
Ignoring the girl's cries, Martha continued to spank her. By the fifteenth stroke, Denise started crying out loud, and begging for mercy.
Martha took her time. She paused for an instant between each stroke, to make sure that each one would have the maximum effect when it was delivered.
The spanking was having an effect on Mark, too. As he watched Denise thrashing and moaning on Martha's lap, his penis stirred in his pants.
It jerked and quivered and stiffened with life. In seconds it was a thick, bulging erection which pushed so hard against the crotch of his pants that it hurt him. His hand dropped to his groan, and he began stroking it as he watched the spanking.
He needed relief. He pulled down his zipper, and fumbled his cock out. He gripped his rod and pressed his face to the door. He stared at the spanking, and began pulling and fondling his stiff cock.
CHAPTER TWO
It was hard for Mark to stand up and play with himself and watch through the crack in the door, all at the same time.
He solved the problem by dropping to his knees. That gave him better balance.
His cock jutted out of the opening of his fly. The rod of flesh thrust straight out of his brown pants. He wrapped his fist around the base of his shaft.
Martha paused after delivering the twentieth stroke. She had beaten Denise's behind so hard that the girl's spanked flesh was numb.
The girl's smooth shoulders shook with sobbing. She made whooping, gasping, liquid sounds. Martha rubbed the flat of the brush against the beaten buttocks.
Mark stroked his cock. He pulled and kneaded it like a baker with a length of dough. Soon his cock became as red as Denise's bottom.
He breathed shallowly, in quick panting gasps. Sweat streamed down his forehead and ran into his eyes, stinging and blurring them.
Martha started spanking Denise again. She hooked her leg over Denise's ankles, pinning the girl's kicking legs into place.
She counted out the strokes as she delivered them. Denise brokenly begged for mercy. Her bottom was deep red in color, and so dark that it was almost purple in spots.
Mark was surprised and somewhat intimidated by how hard Martha was slamming the brush against her daughter's bottom. She was really giving her a beating!
He had always thought of spankings as kid stuff, a children's punishment. Now he saw that a spanking given by the likes of Martha Klane could reduce a teenaged girl to the status of a squealing, sobbing child.
The last time he had been spanked was when he was eleven years old. His mother had done it to him in punishment for some childish misdeed.
But she had spanked him with his clothes on, and her heart wasn't really in it. He made a big fuss, but it was more to convince her not to spank him harder, and not because it was painful. It really hadn't hurt much at all.
He had been spanked with his clothes on when he was only eleven years old. But Denise, who was a teenager, was being spanked on the bare!
He was glad that Martha wasn't his mother. Martha was the old-fashioned kind of parent, a strict disciplinarian who stood for no nonsense.
Mark feverishly wondered if Martha had spanked Chris when she was Denise's age. That would really have been something to see!
He urgently stroked his cock. His thighs and calves were so tight and taut that they were in danger of cramping up, or giving him a charley horse.
He gripped his erect penis just below the base of the cock head. The cock was as red as a boiled lobster, and blue veins throbbed in it.
Martha counted out the thirty-fifth stroke. She raised the brush a final time, and let it fall lightly on Denise's bottom.
"And one for good measure," Martha said.
"I hope you've learned your lesson, Denise!" She set her hair brush aside, laying it on the bed.
Denise crawled on her mother's lap. She raised herself up. Her face was wet with tears, and fresh tears continued to flow.
Now that the punishment was done, Martha was once more the kindly, caring mother.
She smoothed Denise's hair. "There, there, baby. It's all right. It's all over."
"Oh, Mother, that hurt so much!" Denise whimpered.
"But it's all over now, honey."
"My bottom hurts so much! It feels like it's on fire!"
Martha said, "Make sure you remember that feeling, the next time you think it might be fun to skip a class, Denise."
Martha chuckled. "Actually, you shouldn't have any trouble remembering it for the next few days, because that's how long your bottom will stay sore!"
She patted Denise's heaving shoulders, soothing and calming her. Her tears subsided somewhat, but she continued to sob softly.
Martha put her plump, red-nailed fingers on Denise's behind. "Hmmmm, that does feel hot to the touch, honey. I'll rub some lotion on it later."
She pulled Denise's head to her bosom.
Denise's tears wet her mother's red blouse, and the bare tops of her buxom breasts.
"Come to Mother, dear, come to Mother," she crooned.
She lifted Denise's head from her chest. She unbuttoned her blouse to her navel. She pulled her shirt tails out of her gray skirt.
Mark's hand moved faster and harder on his cock. His eyes were popping.
Martha took off her blouse. Her flesh gleamed like ivory. Her heavy breasts were supported by a black bra with satin cups trimmed with frilly black lace.
Denise rubbed her head against the swelling smoothness of Martha's breasts. Martha murmured soothing words to her, and fondled her hair.
Martha reached behind her back. She unhooked her bra, then slipped the straps off her shoulders. Her breasts tumbled free.
Her nipples were as large as grapes. They were fat and pink and stiff.
The roseates were larger than silver dollars. They were bright pink, and the rims of them blurred off into the swelling flesh of her breasts.
Martha cupped her left breast in her palm. The soft, yielding flesh oozed over the edge of her hand. She lifted her breast.
"Come to Mother," she murmured. The nipple was inches from Denise's face.
Denise's eyes were glowing. She looked feverish. She licked her soft pink lips, then parted them as she opened her mouth wide.
Martha fed the nipple into Denise's mouth. Denise clamped her lips on it.
The girl's mouth formed a rounded O. She made soft sounds as she sucked her mother's breast. Martha caressed the girl's trembling thighs.
Mark felt something twisting inside his stomach. His cock felt like iron, and his balls were swollen and aching. He couldn't hold back any longer.
He had planned to just play with himself for a while, then go into the bathroom and make himself come. That, at least, was his plan.
But the unexpected thrill of seeing Martha bare her breasts, and then nurse her daughter at them, hypnotized Mark. He was in a sexual trance.
He snapped out of it too late-just as he was coming.
His cock throbbed against his palm. Suddenly, semen spurted from the red head of his cock, shooting out of the tiny hole.
He groaned with ecstasy and agony at the same time. His hand was a blur as he pulled his cock. Come gushed on his hand and on his pants.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His body felt like his stomach had been turned inside-out. He thought that he was going to faint.
Then Martha flung open the door, and saw him. She saw a shocked teenage boy, kneeling on the carpet, squeezing his semen-covered cock.
"So!" she shouted. "I thought that you were hiding outside!"
Inside her bedroom, Denise gasped. She pulled a blanket off the bed and covered her front with it, protecting her modesty.
Mark's first reaction was blind panic. He tried to stuff his cock back into his pants. He fumbled with the stiff member.
Martha slapped his face. "You put your hands at your sides, and don't try to cover up, Mark Tyler! It's too late for that!"
He tried to stammer that he just wanted to zip up his pants. His face was numb where she struck him. His ears were ringing.
Denise wailed with dismay. Martha told her to stay in her room, and not to come out into the hall. She pulled the door shut.
She sneered down at Mark. "Of all the lowdown, sneaking, despicable little peeping toms! What have you got to say for yourself?!"
"Oh God, Mrs. Klane, I didn't mean to do it! I just couldn't control myself!"
"Is this how you return my hospitality and trust? By spying on me and my daughter? I'm shocked and disappointed at you, Mark!"
All he could think of was covering himself. But when he tried to push his cock into his pants. Martha grabbed his hair and gave his head a good shake.
"I told you not to touch yourself down there!" she said. "That's how you got into trouble in the first place, you nasty child!"
He felt like a child, too. She had the psychological jump on him from the start.
Then Martha asked the question that totally devastated him, and left him completely unmanned. She said, "What are your parents going to say when I tell them about this, Mark? What do you think your mother will say?"
His red face drained of blood, and became pale and white.
He said, "Please, "Mrs. Klane, please don't tell my folks! Please!"
"I have to. It's my duty to tell them what kind of a boy they're raising. Maybe, if they act now, they can still save you from yourself."
Mark was close to tears. He felt like a helpless child. He pleaded with the stern matron not to tell his parents what he had done.
Martha said, "I would be betraying my friendship with your mother if I didn't tell her about this, Mark. In fact, since I have the phone number of the hotel where they're staying, I'll call them this very night."
A tear spilled from his eye, and dribbled down his cheek. Once more, he pleaded with her. He said, "I don't deserve it, I know, but I'm begging you for mercy, Mrs. Klane! I don't know why I did it! I don't do things like that, honest!"
She said, "I know why you did it, Mark. Because you're a spoiled child used to having his own way-a big baby that's never been properly disciplined."
Her full, red lips drew back over a mouthful of even white teeth as she smiled coldly. "There is one condition under which I might not tell your parents about this, Mark." Her smile was cold, but her eyes were hot.
He said, "I don't care what the condition is! I'll do anything you want, if only you won't tell! Please, Mrs. Klane, please!"
She said, "Don't be so quick to agree. You don't know what you're letting yourself in for, boy."
Mark said that he didn't care, that anything would be better than having his mother and father hear the details of how he had masturbated.
Martha said, "If I decide not to inform James and Barbara, don't think that you'll be getting off easy, little man. You won't be. I'm going to punish you very, very severely, to teach you a lesson for all time."
"I'm going to treat you as if you were one of my own children, Mark. And that means that I'm going to whip some sense and self-discipline into you!"
He said, "You mean-you mean that you'd spank me, like you did to Denise?"
Martha laughed. "You'll hardly be treated so leniently. Denise was spanked for cutting class. But if she had been caught with her dress pulled up, her panties down, and playing with herself while a guest in a friend's house, why, why I don't know what I'd do to her!"
Mark remembered what Denise had said before her punishment-how she had asked her mother to spank her. He decided to try the same.
He said, "I know how bad what I did was, Mrs. Klane. I deserve to be punished."
"That's an understatement if I ever heard one!" Martha looked down at him.
His cock hadn't gone soft. It was just as stiff and erect as it had been while he was masturbating. Martha thoughtfully rubbed her chin.
She said, "The choice is yours, Mark. Since you are not my child, I won't punish you out of hand. I don't have the right. But if I don't punish you, then I'm going to have to inform your parents of your disgusting behavior."
"C-Couldn't you punish me instead, and not tell them?"
"Is that what you want, Mark? For me to punish you, rather than tell on you?"
He admitted that such was his desire.
"All right, Mark. But remember this, little boy-the first time that you show me the slightest sign of resistance or disobedience, I wash my hands of you. I'll just call your parents and tell them to cut short their vacation and take you out of the house, because I don't want you around my daughter."
"I'll do whatever you say, Mrs. Klane. I promise. Honest."
"Actions speak louder than words, but we'll see. For now, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Get on your feet, child."
He stood up. His hard cock jutted out from his pants. He couldn't take his eyes off Martha's full, plump, dangling breasts.
She knew it, too. "What are you staring at, you nasty child?"
"I'm sorry." He bowed his head. "May I please cover myself now?"
"No, you may not," she said crisply. "Since you seem to have a compulsion to exhibit yourself, I'm going to let you indulge it."
"I don't want to exhibit myself. Please, this is so embarrassing!"
"Shut up," she said. "Here's your first lesson from me, Mark. Don't speak unless you're spoken to. Children should be seen and not heard."
"Yes, Mrs. Klane," he mumbled.
"Your calling me 'Mrs. Klane' is too formal and grown-up for a big baby like you. From now on, you'll address me as Aunt Martha, until I tell you differently."
"Yes, Mrs.-I mean, yes, Aunt Martha." He nearly choked on the words.
"Your punishment starts right now, child. And, in my opinion, it's long overdue!" Her breasts heaved with indignation.
From behind the door, Denise called softly, "May I come out now, Mother?"
"Not just yet, honey," Martha said. "I'll tell you when to come out."
She gripped Mark's ear between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted it.
"Ow, Mrs. Klane! I mean, Aunt Martha! Please stop! That hurts!"
"What a squalling brat you are." She cracked him across the face with the back of her hand. He was so shocked that his mouth fell open.
She said, "You come along with me, little boy! I'll teach you a lesson you'll remember for the rest of your life!"
Pulling his ear so hard that he whimpered with pain, Martha marched him down the hall and into her bedroom.
There was a sweet scent of perfume in the air. The walls were pink, and the furniture was plush and velvet-covered. The room was dominated by a large bed with antique, brass railing headboards and footboards.
She released him, and got a box of tissues. "Before I do anything else, I'll have to clean you up first! I won't have you smearing your come all over my room!"
She pulled a fat wad of tissues from the box. She grabbed his wrist, and roughly wiped the semen off his right hand, the hand he used to masturbate with.
Her heavy breasts bobbed and dangled as she bent forward. She took some more tissues and dabbed at the semen staining his trousers.
He gasped, "Please, Aunt Martha, I can do that!"
"You'll take any excuse to touch yourself, won't you? What a nasty child you are! Even after all this, you're still hard!"
"I can't help it," he whimpered. "I'm so embarrassed."
"You've got some big problems. But Aunt Martha will solve them, in her own very special way."
She clutched some tissues in her hand. She wrapped them around the head of his stiff cock. An involuntary moan escaped his lips.
Martha vigorously rubbed the tissues against his member, cleaning the semen off it as best she could. She handled him casually and clinically.
Even after his cock was cleaned off, she continued to stroke him.
Finally she said, "I'd better stop now, before you lose control of yourself again!"
She dumped the wadded, soiled tissues into the waste basket. "I'll clean you out more thoroughly later, but that will do for now."
Then she said, "Since you're so casual about exposing yourself in my house, Mark, you might as well go all the way."
"Excuse me, Aunt Martha, but I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you? Then I'll make my meaning clearer. Strip off your clothes, brat!"
He whined in protest, but a solid slap of her strong right hand shut him up fast. She reminded him that she would report to his parents if he dared to defy her.
He didn't dare. He had no more resistance. Sexual stimulation, shame, and humiliation were all mixed up in his mind.
He took off his clothes, and dropped them on the floor. His hands trembled as he opened his pants and took them down and stopped out of them.
Martha said, "I see that you don't wear undershorts, Mark."
"Uh, no, I don't, Aunt Martha."
"You will while you're here with me. Don't worry, I've got some delightful undergarments for you to wear-but that will come later."
Mark's hands dropped to cover his groin, but Martha slapped them away.
She said, "I can see that you're going to need a lot of training, to teach you how to behave! Don't touch yourself again, Mark!"
She crossed the floor, opened her closet, and stepped into it. Mark stood in the center of the room with his hands at his sides.
He could see that the closet was crammed full of feminine garments. Martha bent down and took out a box from the back of the closet.
She knelt and opened it. Her fleshy, naked back was between him and the box, so he couldn't see what was in it. He would soon find out.
Martha took something out of the box, closed the lid, rose, and turned around.
She held a length of rope in her plump hands. It was the thin kind of rope often used for clotheslines. She came to Mark.
Even without her high heels, she stood almost a half-foot taller than him. He looked at her face and tried not to stare at her breasts.
She said, "Turn around, Mark." He turned so his back faced her.
She grabbed his wrists, and twisted his arms behind his back.
He said nervously, "What are you doing, Aunt Martha?"
"I'm going to keep those hands out of trouble."
She made a loop in the rope, crossed his wrists, and threw the loop over them. She pulled it tight, so the rope bit into his flesh.
She passed some hitches over it, then knotted them tightly. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously in his throat. Fear softened his member; it went semi-erect.
He said, "You don't have to tie me, Aunt Martha. I'll behave, honest."
"This will make sure that you behave. Besides, I want to tie you. Somebody should have done this to you a long time ago."
She patted his bottom. It started out as a soft pat. Then she gripped his buttock and squeezed it. He blushed furiously.
Martha said, "When was the last time that you were spanked, Mark?"
"A long time ago, Aunt Martha, when I was just a kid."
"Oh? What are you now?" she laughed. "You're just a child to me, and don't you ever forget it! How old were you when Barbara spanked you last? I'm assuming that your mother disciplined you, and not your father."
"I guess that I was eleven when I was spanked for the last time."
"The last time until now," she corrected him. "I know that your mother doesn't believe in corporal punishment, although I've often tried to convince her of its merits. No wonder that your such a horny, misbehaving imp! If you were my child, I'd spank you at least once a week, whether you deserved it or not, just to show you who's boss!"
She continued, "However, for the next week at last, you will be my child. And you're going to get your first, long-overdue spanking right now!"
"Are you-are you going to spank me like you did Denise, Aunt Martha?"
"Not exactly," she smiled. "Denise's offense only merited the use of the hair brush. But you, my self-abusing young boy, are going to be strapped!"
She said, "Right now, though, I want you to stand in that corner, with your face to the wall." She pushed him to get him moving.
Mark stood in the corner where two pink walls met. Martha came up behind him.
She said, "Put your nose right up against the crack, Mark."
He moved forward until the tip of his nose pressed against the painted plaster.
His cock, while red and swollen, no longer jutted out from his hips. If it had, he wouldn't have been able to stand so closely to the wall.
Martha pressed against him. Her nipples brushed his bare back, making his flesh tingle. Her breasts flattened against his back.
His hands, tied behind his back, touched her soft stomach. She rubbed her thighs against him. Her gray skirt was made of. coarse, rough material, and it rubbed against his bottom. She rested her plump hands on his quivering thighs.
She put her mouth next to his ear. He squirmed. Her hot breath raised goose bumps on his flesh, and made chills run down his spine.
She whispered, "Listen to me, Mark. I have strict and stern punishments for bad little boys and girls. But I also have loving rewards for good little boys who please me by doing what I say. Do you want to please me, Mark?"
"Yes, Aunt Martha." His cock stiffened, and began to rise.
She said, "You can start pleasing me by taking your punishment like a good little boy.
And that means obeying me without question."
She stuck her tongue in his ear, and licked the inside of it.
He squirmed and gasped. His cock stood out straight and hard. It pressed against the cold plaster walls. He sighed, "Oh, Aunt Martha ... "
"I'll hurt you, honey, but then I'll make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You'll be my good, my obedient little boy."
He swore that he would. Suddenly, Martha pulled away. Once again, she was all businessa stern and cruel disciplinarian.
"Before anything else, Mark, you have to be punished. Now, you stay right here, and don't move an inch from this spot until we return."
"We?" he echoed. His voice comically broke as he said the word.
"That's right, we," Martha crooned. "Me, and Denise."
"Denise? Aunt Martha, you're not going to let her watch, are you?!"
"Why not? You watched her being punished. It seems only fair to me, that she should see you get what's coming to you."
"Aunt Martha, please don't let her see me being spanked!"
"See you?!" Martha laughed. "She's going to be doing a lot more than seeing, I can promise you that!" Her breasts shook as she laughed at his naivete.
Martha said, "Denise isn't just going to watch-she's going to help me punish you!"
Mark started to turn around. Martha swatted his bottom with her open hand. It stung like blazes, and left a red handprint on his right buttock.
"I told you to stay put!" she hissed. "Every time you disobey, you make your punishment worse! You're a very foolish child!"
Mark humbly apologized to her. Then he begged her not to let Denise participate.
Martha said, "Don't be fooled by Denise. She may be a dutiful daughter to me, but that's because she respects her mother! But she doesn't respect you, and she surely won't have any trouble putting you in your place! And don't let her looks fool you! She's mean!"
CHAPTER THREE
Martha said, "I'll be back in a few minuteswith Denise! While I'm gone, Mark, you can think about what I'm going to do to youwhat we're going to do to you!"
That was just exactly what Mark thought about until Martha returned with her daughter. His erection jerked and quivered.
Martha exited the room, went down the hall, and entered her daughter's bedroom. She was in there for about ten minutes.
Mark heard her and Denise talking, but he couldn't make out what they said.
Finally, mother and daughter came down the hall. Mark winced and groaned with humiliation when he heard Denise giggling.
Martha and Denise entered Martha's bedroom. Denise gasped, then collapsed into a fit of giggles when she saw Mark in the nude.
Martha put her arm around Denise's waist, and pulled her close.
Denise wore a frilly, feminine night robe. It had long sleeves, with little lace cuffs and a demure lace collar.
It was pink, and decorated with many white satin bows and ribbons. It covered her from shoulders to ankles.
She wore little white slippers with pointed toes and fluffy pink pom-poms on the tops. Her tears had dried, and her face was shining and excited.
She teased, "Gee, Mark, what happened to your clothes?"
"Thanks a lot, Denise," he said bitterly. "You're a real good friend."
"Oh, he is insolent, Mother," she said. "No wonder he's being punished!"
Martha warned, "Keep a civil and respectful attitude when you speak to my daughter, Mark. It will go hard on you if you don't."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Martha. I forgot myself. I won't happen again."
Denise said, "Wow, Mother, he called you Aunt Martha! Does that mean-"
Martha said, "It means that he's going to be treated in just the same way as I treat all the little boys and girls who need correction."
"This is going to be great!" Denise said. "May we begin, Mother?"
"Yes, dear. Turn around, Mark, and be quick about it."
Mark turned around. He hung his head, and looked at his feet. He could see his semi-erect cock dangling against his smooth thigh.
Denise was not nervous or shocked in the slightest. She was cool and composed.
She said, "So that's what you look like without any clothes on! I've often wondered what you look like. You're really cute, Mark. I'm going to enjoy this, even if you don'tespecially if you don't."
Martha said, "Now, now, Denise, business before pleasure. We've got a naughty little boy who's badly in need of a strapping."
"May I begin, Mother?"
"No, I think that it would be best if I soften him up a bit for us first."
Staring at Mark's penis, Denise said, "It looks like he's too soft already!"
Martha said, "Be a dear, and fetch my belt from the closet, honey."
"Is it in the black box, Mother?"
"No, it's hanging on a hook on the door. The black box is for later."
Denise and her mother exchanged glances which were full of hidden meanings.
Denise went to the closet and got the belt. It was made of black patent leather and was two inches high and had an oversized bronze buckle.
Denise cracked the belt in the air. Mark flinched.
Denise smiled. "I never knew that you were such a scaredy-cat, Mark. Not that I blame you. This belt really hurts when you're being strapped with it!"
"Mark will find that out for himself, honey," Martha said.
She took the belt. She smoothed back her daughter's braids, and kissed her on the forehead. Denise threw her arms around her neck, and kissed her mother square on the lips. She pressed against Martha's naked torso.
Denise opened her mouth. Martha thrust her tongue into the girl's mouth.
Their tongues fenced, rubbing together, darting away, then coming together again. Denise murmured with pleasure.
Martha embraced her. She caressed her daughter's slender back. Her hand dropped to Denise's rounded bottom, and gave it a squeeze.
Denise moaned. She pulled away, breaking the kiss. Saliva glistened on her lower lip. She licked it with her pink tongue tip.
She said, "My bottom is sore as anything, Mother!"
"I can well believe that!" Martha chuckled.
"You said that you were going to rub some lotion into it, like you always do after a spanking," Denise said. Spots of color rose in her cheeks.
"I will, honey, but not right now. I've got something else to do, and so do you."
Martha said to Mark, "Don't think that we've forgotten you, little boy."
"You'll only wish we had," Denise said. "When I found out that you were staying over for a week, Mark, I thought that it was going to be fun-but I never expected anything like this!"
"Neither did I," he said wanly. Martha and Denise laughed out loud at his obvious discomfort and humiliation.
Martha said, "This discipline can be hot and tiring work. I think that I'll take off some of these excess clothes."
She unbuttoned her skirt. "You can look at me, Mark. You know that you're dying to, anyway. Since you're so curious about me and my daughter, take a good look."
She pulled off her skirt. She wore a black lace garter belt, red satin panties, and stockings.
Her midriff was full and thick, and had a rippling softness around the belly. The garter belt contrasted dramatically with the whiteness of her flesh.
The garter belt was trimmed with black lace flounces which hung down on her broad hips, veiling them. The garters were fat and frilly.
The panties weren't bikini-style. They were full, like shorts. The sleek red satin fabric was stretched tightly across her wide hips.
Her arched pubic mound was outlined against the panties. She wore the panties over her garters, rather than under them.
Denise said, "I think that Mark is getting excited again, Mother."
She was referring to the fact that his cock jerked and swelled with arousal.
Martha gave his penis a contemptous flick with her fingers. "We'll soon whip the starch out of that bad boy."
She went to the bed, her buttocks swaying from side to side as she walked. Her bottom was wide and plump, and the panties hung low on the cheeks, barely covering them.
She pulled the blankets down to the foot of the bed, exposing the sheets.
They were white linen, clean and fresh. She patted the mattress. "Come over here, Mark. It's time that we started putting you in your place."
He went to the bed. Martha ordered him to he face down across it.
The sheets rubbed against his hot flesh. The sheets were cool and fragrant.
Mark turned his head to the side, so it wouldn't be enveloped by the soft, overstuffed mattress. The mattress was so big that he felt like he was drowning in the bed. There was a tight hard knot of tension in his belly.
Martha took a pillow and said, "Raise your middle up, Mark."
When he did, she slipped the pillow under his hips. This raised his bottom, making it a clear and tempting target.
Martha said, "I don't need a lot of sociological mumbo-jumbo and psychological claptrap to make a bad boy behave. All I need is my strap."
Denise said, "Maybe he should be gagged, Mother."
"Perhaps you're right, dear." Martha leaned over Mark. "Should I gag you, or can you take your medicine like a big boy?"
"I'll try it without the gag," he muttered.
"Suit yourself." Martha doubled the belt in her hand. She spread her feet shoulder-width apart and raised her arm.
She whipped his bottom with the strap. It hurt! He wasn't prepared for that kind of pain, and cried out in shocked surprise.
Denise laughed. "You're not off to such a very good start, Mark."
He took a deep breath, and gritted his teeth. He would show her!
His resistance didn't last very long.
He clenched his buttocks tightly, steeling himself for the next stroke. He held his body so tensely that his thighs quivered from the strain.
"None of that, Mark," Martha said. "I insist that you take these strokes with your bottom relaxed and untensed."
"How can I do that?!" he cried.
He cried out loudly as she slashed him with the strap. Martha said, "I told you to mind your manners, you spoiled little brat!"
"I'm sorry, Aunt Martha," he whimpered. "But how can I relax? It hurts so much!"
"It's supposed to hurt. And as for keeping your bottom relaxed, perhaps this will assist you-I'm not going to count a single stroke than lands on your bottom while it's tightly clenched! Not a one!"
Mark forced the tension out of his body, relaxing his bottom cheeks.
Martha began the whipping. Mark grunted with every stroke. He had thought that he might get used to the pain, but each stroke hurt worse than the one before it.
By the eighth stroke, he was moaning like a sick old man.
Denise said, "I'm disappointed in you, Mark. I thought you could take a lot more than that! I can take twice that without even trying!"
On the tenth stroke, he cried out loud. Martha stopped strapping him. She said, "I think that you need to be gagged after all, Mark."
"Yes, yes, I do, Aunt Martha. I thought I could take it, but I couldn't."
He was glad to agree to anything that would give him a moment's rest from the punishing caress of the leather belt. His bottom burned like fire.
Martha said, "I know just the perfect gag for you, too!"
She handed the belt to Denise. "Here, honey, you take over for a moment."
"With pleasure!" Denise said. Her eyes were shining.
"Mind that you just whip him across the bottom, dear. Don't get carried away, like you did when Roland was here the last time. He could hardly walk when it was over!"
"Don't worry, Mother. I'll be careful."
Denise stood over Mark, and began whipping him with the belt. She lacked the power and brute force of Martha, but she made Mark beg her for mercy.
After a moment, Martha returned. "Stop for a second, honey."
Mark was covered with sweat. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks.
Martha went through the waste basket, and picked out the tissues she had used to wipe the semen off his hand and his cock.
She held a soiled tissue between her red fingernails. "See this, Denise? It's got Mark's come all over it. I think it will make a fine gag."
She went around to the other side of the bed, where his head was resting.
His head was on a level with her thighs. A sweet, musky fragrance came from between her legs, tantalizing his nostrils.
She sat on the bed so that her hip rubbed against his face. She lifted his head, and rested it on her stockinged thigh.
"Open your mouth, Mark," she said.
"Oh no-please don't," he whimpered. Ignoring him, she stuffed the semen-soiled tissue into his mouth.
It didn't come close to filling his oral cavity, so she continued to stuff soiled tissues into his mouth until it was full.
Denise said, "You'll need something to hold them in his mouth, Mother, so he won't be able to spit them out."
"I'm sure he wouldn't do that, but we might as well make sure that he can't," Martha said. "Be a dear, and get me a cloth from the black box."
Denise went to the closet and took a long silken cloth from the box. The cloth was black, strong, sleek, and perfumed.
Martha took it and forced it between Mark's jaws. She knotted the ends of the cloth behind the back of his neck.
"There you go," she said to Mark. "You're all set." She slid out from under him, took the strap from Denise, and resumed whipping him.
He jerked and thrashed on the bed as the belt whipped his bottom. Even with the gag, his ragged cries were loud and frantic.
As he writhed, he slipped off the pillow which she had placed under his hips. Martha paused and waited for him to relax his buttocks before she continued.
She must have whipped him twenty-five times, just since she had put the gag in his mouth. After the twenty-fifth stroke, she rested.
There was a fine, glistening sheen on her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Her nipples were stiffly erect. Her eyes were wide and excited.
Denise was excited, too. Her right hand was between her legs, and she was rubbing her pussy with short, quick strokes.
"Don't do that, Denise," Martha said. "Save it for later."
Denise took her hand out from between her legs. "Sorry, Mother. But you know how hot I get when you're whipping somebody."
"I do know, dear, since I get that way myself. And poor little Mark will find out what we're like, before too long."
Denise said, "I'd say he's found out plenty already! But you aren't done punishing him yet, are you?" Disappointment was in her voice.
"I'm only resting, dear," Martha assured her. "Besides, you have to realize that this is Mark's first time. He's not used to this sort of thing."
"Well, as long as you're resting, will you do my bottom with the lotion now?"
"All right, dear. Let's get Mark off the bed first, though. I have a feeling that we'll be using it in a little while." .
Martha said, "Get up, Mark. Stand up, and be quick about it, or I'll whip you some more!" Mark groaned and creakily got off the bed.
He put his feet on the floor, and straightened up. He was hunched forward, like an old man. Blisters and welts rose up on his behind.
His face was wet from crying. The wadded tissues were a soaking, pulpy mess in his mouth, and his saliva had saturated the cloth holding the gag in.
Denise put her hand on his bottom. Mark flinched, then trembled.
Her laugh was silvery and merry. "Don't worry, Mark. I'm not going to hurt you-not for a little while, anyway."
Her hand was cool, with slim, long, elegant fingers. They pressed against his behind, fondling it. Mark shivered like he had chills.
"You did a good job, Mother. His bottom is hot as anything!"
"We'll let it cool off before we warm it up again," Martha said.
Denise's hands roamed over Mark's whipped bottom. She reached in front of him, and gripped his cock.
His member hardened at her touch. It had gone soft during the strapping, since the pain was greater than the strange sexual excitement he felt at being humbled and humiliated by the buxom widow and her lovely daughter.
Denise had a wickedly skillful touch. Her fingers stroked the sensitive underside of his shaft, caressing it with long, smooth strokes.
"Go easy with that, Denise," Martha said.
"We don't want to give him too much too soon."
"But you always comfort me and love me up when you're done punishing me, Mother. Besides, look how much he likes it!"
Martha looked at Mark's stiff penis. "I'm sure that he does. Which is an excellent reason for you to stop doing it. He's being punished, not pleasured."
Denise squeezed his cock. A pearly drop of semen oozed from the red head.
"That's quite enough, Denise," Martha said.
Denise reluctantly took her hand away. "You know, Mother, I think that Mark is really turned on by being treated this way."
"Obviously. I could see that he was a born submissive."
Denise said, "Mother, are you going to make Mark a slave?!"
"Denise, you know that we don't talk about that in front of outsiders!"
"But Mark isn't an outsider-at least, he sure isn't right now! Not after you've stripped him and strapped his ass!"
Martha sighed. "You must be a mind reader, Denise. I suppose there's no keeping any secrets from you. To tell you the truth, I am thinking seriously about giving Mark some slave training, if he measures up."
Denise fondled his cock. "He's got a hard-on from being whipped. You always told me that was a sure sign that a guy is slave material!"
"Of course it is, dear," Martha said. "Well, now that you've brought the subject out into the open, I suppose we'll have to clear the air."
She turned to Mark. During this conversation, he had stared at Denise and Martha with total amazement-and an ever-mounting, feverish excitement.
Martha said, "You've got to realize that I've got you right under my thumb, which is where you belong anyway. You're going to be punished for spying on Denise and me. So don't think that you're going to get out of that."
"But I'm a dominant woman, Mark. I believe that the female of the species was born to rule the male. Men are fit to be the slaves of women, not their masters."
"I'm always looking for new slaves, if they know how to please. I've raised my daughters to be like me. They submit to me, but I'm teaching them how to dominate men-and boys. Boys like you, Mark."
Martha continued, "Chris is already a professional dominatrix. I've been thinking that my dear Denise is ready to take her first slave-under my careful instruction and tutoring, of course."
Unconsciously imitating the dominant stance of her mother, Denise spread her legs and put her hands on her hips. She licked her pink lips.
She said, "I've decided that you're going to be my first slave, Mark!"
"Not so fast, Denise," Martha said. "You know that you can't enslave anyone who really, truly, deep down inside doesn't want to be a slave."
Denise said, "Will you be my slave, Mark? Just nod your head yes or no."
Mark nodded his head up and down, answering yes to her question.
Denise said, "Okay. Now I know that you want to be my slave. But do I want you to be my slave? I'm not sure. You'll have to prove your devotion."
Martha said, "I know that you're just dying to try out what I've taught you, Denise, but you're going to have to wait."
"Why, Mother?"
"Because I'm still in charge here, not you, miss. And I demand that my pleasure comes before everything else, child. Before I take you to bed, let's make sure that Mark will keep quiet, and stay out of trouble."
Martha opened the bottom drawer of her dresser. It was chock-full of frilly, lacy, fabulously feminine lingerie.
She rummaged through it until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a pair of somewhat frayed beige bikini panties.
Denise said, "Is that for Mark, Mother?"
"Yes, it is. This is an old pair, and I don't care if they get soiled-as I'm sure they will, when he sees what you and I are going to do. Here, Denise, put these panties on Mark. He looks positively indecent with his thing sticking out like that."
Denise took the panties from her. She knelt at Mark's feet. "Step into these, Mark. They're your first pair of panties, but they won't be your last."
He stepped awkwardly, lifting first one foot and then the other. Denise slipped the panties over his feet, and pulled them up his legs.
His skin tingled as the satin undergarment brushed it. Denise caressed his calves and thighs as she pulled the panties to his hips.
She took his erect cock, and pulled the panties over it. Mark gasped as he felt the perfumed satin against his genitals.
His cock was pressed vertically against his belly. Denise patted it through the panties. She said,' "We'll just put that away for now."
She caressed his belly, then pinched his tiny nipples erect. "Look how smooth and soft his skin is, Mother. Just like a girl's."
"Oh, he'll look adorable in dresses," Martha said. "But let's not rush things. Help me tie him up, Denise."
Martha dragged a heavy armchair across the floor, so that it faced the foot of the bed. She told Mark to sit down in it.
He winced and shivered as he sat down on his whipped bottom. Hot tears flooded his eyes, and he squirmed and squeezed his thighs together.
Denise said, "You're such a crybaby, Mark. You're going to have to learn to take a lot more pain than this, if you want to be a good slave!"
Martha went to the closet, and returned with a length of rope coiled into a circle. She and Denise used the rope to tie him securely to the chair.
As they bound him, they pinched and prodded and fondled him. Martha tied his upper body to the chair, while Denise bound his ankles to the chair legs.
Martha checked the knots, tightening the ones which were loose. At last she said, "There, that should hold him!"
Denise squeezed her thighs together, rubbing them against her pussy. "This is so wild, Mother! I never expected anything like this!"
Martha patted her cheek. "You're growing up, honey. It's time you had some slaves of your own to play with-as long as you share them with me!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Martha sat down on the edge of the bed. "Come to Mother, Denise."
Denise went to her and stood facing her. Martha put her hands on her daughter's hips. She pulled up the night robe.
Denise lifted her arms so that Martha could take the robe off her. As the hem was pulled up to the small of her waist, Mark could see her bottom.
It" was still bright red, with some blisters rising up on the abused cheeks. Mark was certain that he had been beaten more severely than she was.
Martha pulled off the robe and tossed it aside, and Denise was beautifully naked. Her small breasts jiggled as she breathed.
Martha said, "Go get the ointment, honey."
Denise went to the vanity table and took a jar from it and brought it to Martha. Martha said, "Thank you, dear. Turn around now, Denise."
Denise turned and presented her bottom to her mother. She stood so that her front was facing Mark. He stared at her nudity.
Denise knew he was aching for her. She smiled devilishly. She spread her legs shoulder width apart. She cupped her breast and idly fondled it.
She played with her nipples, pinching them erect. Mark squirmed in his chair, as much from desire as from the pain in his beaten behind.
Martha looked at her daughter's bottom. "Perhaps I was a bit harsh with you, Denise. But I'll make it up to you. Mother will kiss it and make it better."
She leaned forward, her breasts bobbing. She pressed her red lips to Denise's bottom and planted wet kisses on both cheeks.
Denise wiggled her hips, and sighed. She licked her soft pink lips.
Martha took the cap off the jar of ointment. She dipped her fingers into the oily goo, and scooped out a fat wad of it.
She rubbed the ointment into her hands. She put her greased palms on Denise's bottom. Denise shivered and went, "Oooooooh!"
Martha massaged the lotion into the girl's buttocks. Slowly and tenderly she kneaded it into the globes of reddened flesh.
She asked, "Does that make it feel better, honey?"
"Ummm, yes!" Denise said. "I can feel it start to work already. It's very soothing. It's making my behind tingle with all pins and needles."
While Martha rubbed the ointment into her flesh, Denise reached between her legs, and began fondling her own pussy.
She stroked her thin labia. She slipped her finger inside her pussy, and pushed it in and out, finger-fucking herself.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded and sultry. She ran her tongue tip across her lips. She said to Mark, "I bet that you'd give anything to have some of this, wouldn't you?" She rubbed her pussy so he couldn't mistake her meaning.
Mark nodded his head up and down, signifying yes. With his mouth gagged, that was the only reply that he could manage.
"Well, eat your heart out," Denise said. Her voice was a bit breathless. She added, "If you're a very good little slave, maybe we'll find something else for you to eat out later. But you'll have to prove your worth to us first."
"Forget about him for now, Denise," Martha said. "He'll keep for a while."
Denise's bottom was shiny and glistening with the gleaming coating of ointment rubbed on it.
There was some ointment on Martha's palms. She wiped them clean on Denise's slender thighs, then pulled the girl down on her lap.
Denise put her arm's around Martha's neck. They kissed. Their open mouths clamped together. They fenced with their tongues.
Martha fondled Denise's breasts. She softly squeezed the small mounds, and rolled the tiny nipples between her fingers, causing them to stiffen.
Denise's naked bottom rested on Martha's bare thighs above the stocking tops. She sat sideways across her mother's lap, with her legs hanging down.
Martha caressed her thighs. Denise opened her legs. Martha reached between them. She stroked and fondled Denise's pussy.
Denise's tiny toes curled and uncurled. She squeezed her thighs closed on her mother's hand. Martha eased her off her lap.
Denise said, "I'll undress you, Mother."
She reached for Martha's red satin panties. She fondled Martha's pussy through the shimmering fabric. Then she pulled the panties down.
The panties slid down her stockinged legs and fluttered to her ankles. Martha stepped out of them. She looked lewd and nasty with her naked pussy framed by the garter belt and the sleek, dark, nylon stockings.
She was heavily bushed. Her pubic hair was thick, glossy, and jet black. It reached halfway to her navel. Her pussy lips were fleshy and rose colored.
Denise unhooked the garter tabs from the stocking tops. Martha sat down on the bed, and extended her leg. Her thigh muscles flexed.
Her foot was arched, and her toes were pointed. Denise slowly unrolled the stocking from the plump, strong leg. She kissed and caressed Martha's thighs.
She took off first one stocking, and then the other. She carefully put them on top of the dresser drawer, and returned to the bed.
Martha unhooked the garter belt, and dropped it to the floor. She lay back and stretched out on the bed. She plumped a pillow underneath her bottom.
Denise went to her. She climbed on the bed, and got down on her hands and knees on the mattress. Martha spread her legs wide open.
Denise knelt between Martha's legs. Her bottom was facing Mark. He could see her lightly haired pussy below the red cheeks of her ass.
Denise put her open hands on Martha's thighs. She lowered her head to Martha's crotch, and began kissing her pussy.
"That's my sweet baby," Martha sighed.
Denise rubbed her face across Martha's tufted pubic bush. She pressed her lips against the labia, which quivered at their touch.
She extended her tongue. It was long and pink and pointed. She licked the pussy lips, causing the soft flesh to ripple and jiggle.
Denise slipped her tongue between the pussy lips. Martha sighed heavily. Denise licked the inside of the pussy, running her tongue along the sleek pink membranes.
Martha was already lubricated in her pussy, but Denise's tonguing made her even wetter. Her pussy walls dripped with thick, pungent secretions.
Denise lapped up the juices, tasting them on her tongue. She glided her tongue up the slit, and found the fleshy button that was the clitoris.
Martha said, "That feels so good, darling. But I want to do you while you do me. Just turn on the bed so I can get to your pussy."
Denise made a one hundred and eighty degree turn on the mattress. Now she faced Mark, and her backside was presented to Martha.
She straddled Martha's head. Her soft thighs rubbed Martha's cheeks. Her sweet little pussy was poised over her mother's eager, upturned face.
Martha reached up and put her hands on Denise's bottom. Denise groaned. Martha pulled her down to her, bringing the pussy to her mouth.
The soft pussy lips rubbed her face. Martha pressed her red lips against the labia and covered them with hot, wet kisses.
Denise's face was poised over Martha's pussy. She pressed her mouth against it, and resumed kissing and licking it.
Martha stabbed her tongue into Denise's pussy and licked the insides. Denise gasped and wiggled her hips. Martha pressed her tongue to the tiny clitoris.
She held her tongue vertically upright, so that the tip of it rested on the throbbing fleshy button. Denise rocked her hips back and forth.
She was busy mouthing Martha's pussy. Martha's plump white thighs quivered. Denise slurped and sucked at the pussy.
As the mature dominant woman and her slender teenage daughter writhed on the bed, Mark writhed helplessly against his tight bonds.
His hands, which had been tied the longest of any part of his body, were numb from the lack of circulation. There was barely any feeling in the fingers.
Denise had tied his feet tightly to the chair legs, and they were starting to go numb, too. The ropes around his upper body cut red marks into his pink skin.
There was a fat bulge in the crotch of his panties. It was caused by the stiff and throbbing erection he had.
The rasping sound of his heavy breathing was loud to his ears. He strained against the ropes, leaning forward as far as he could in the chair to see all the action which was taking place on the bed.
Sweat broke out on his forehead, and ran into his eyes, blurring them.
Denise was sweating, too. Martha's tongue was driving her wild. She moaned continuously, but didn't interrrupt her tonguing of Martha's pussy.
She had been tonguing Martha longer than Martha had been tonguing her, but it was Denise who climaxed first, thanks to Martha's skilled tongue.
Denise shivered like she was naked in a blizzard. Every muscle in her body tightened as she came. She made hoarse groaning sounds.
She raised her face from Martha's pussy. Her nose and mouth and chin were wet. She squeezed her eyes shut, and opened her mouth in a gaping O.
She shuddered as her climax hit.
After the last convulsive shock of her orgasm had faded away, Denise sighed heavily, and slumped down on Martha's body.
Martha wiggled her hips, signaling Denise to continue. Gasping for breath, Denise massaged Martha's pussy with her wet lips.
She licked inside the slit, and tongued Martha's clitoris. The bed shook as Martha rocked her hips and moved her pussy in response to the tongue.
Martha breathed faster and faster. Her plump thighs jiggled. She thrashed her legs. Denise's small breasts were pressed flat against her belly.
Denise brought her to orgasm. When she came, Martha lifted her legs off the bed for a moment, held them rigid, then slowly lowered them to the mattress.
The woman and the girl lay motionless on the bed for a few moments, savoring the sweet delights of orgasmic afterglow.
Denise sprawled across Martha's body. Finally, she raised her head from her mother's crotch and looked up at Mark and smiled coldly.
She said, "How do you like the show so far, Mark? I don't know about you, but I love it!" She rolled off her mother, and on to her side.
Martha struggled to a sitting position. She plumped some pillows against the brass headboard and leaned back, sinking into them.
"He loves it," Martha said. "That big thing sticking up between his legs is proof of that. Look at the bulge in his pretty panties."
She got out of bed, yawned, stretched. She raised her arms over her head and rose on tiptoes, arching her breasts, stretching luxuriusly.
"That was wonderful, Denise. You just keep getting better and better."
"That's 'cause I have such a good teacher," Denise said.
She went to her mother. They embraced and kissed passionately.
After a moment, Martha broke the clinch. She looked at the electric clock on the night table. "It's getting late, Denise. Time for you to go to bed."
Denise stamped her little foot in disappointment. "Oh, Mother!"
"I don't want any arguments from you, young lady. Don't get too big for your britches, just because you've got your own slave. Remember, I'm still your mother, and my word is law. I am the law. Never forget that, Denise, or you just might find yourself serving as a slave right along with Mark here."
Denise sighed, "All right, Mother. But it isn't fair! I haven't even gotten started on Mark yet!"
"Never you mind about that, dear," Martha said. "Tomorrow is Friday, which means that the weekend is coming up. You'll have all weekend to bring Mark to heel. Now, off to bed with you!"
Denise said, "What about Mark?"
"Don't you worry about that. I'll take care of him."
"Hmmmmm ... I'll just bet you will!"
"Don't use that tone with me, young lady, or I'll strap you right in front of the slave," Martha warned sternly.
"Sorry, Mother. Will you tuck me into bed, and kiss me good night?"
"Of course I will, dear. Now, say good night to your new slave, and go to bed."
Denise went over to Mark. He looked up at her, his eyes hot and pleading.
She said, "Good night, Mark. You better get as much sleep as you can tonight, 'cause you're sure not going to get any rest this weekend!"
Denise picked up her robe and put it on. She and Martha exited the room. They went down the hall to Denise's room.
Mark heard them talking for a long time. He was sure that they were talking about him, and he was dying to hear what they were saying.
Some time went by. It must have been a half-hour before Martha returned.
She said, "Well, Mark, what am I going to do with you? I suppose that I might as well untie you from the chair, and put you to bed for the night."
She didn't bother to untie the knots of the ropes. She used a scissors to cut them open instead. Her breasts rubbed his face and shoulders.
While he was still in bondage, she pulled his panties away from his skin, and looked down inside them.
She pulled his penis up out of the panties. A slight amount of semen had leaked out from the red tip of his hard cock.
Martha squeezed his cock. "Still hard, eh? That's what I love about you young boys. You're always horny and hard and ready for action."
She chuckled. "Somehow, I don't think that you're ready for the kind of action that Denise and I have planned for you this weekend."
She delicately fondled his balls, scraping the tips of her long red fingernails along the swollen and sensitive testicles. Mark shivered.
She stroked his cock. "Life is strange. Men are strange. Look at this penis. This piece of flesh rules you, body and soul. You'll do anything, anything at all, just for the pleasure of coming. This penis rules you, and I-and Denise-will rule it. And you will love it eventually. You love it now, but you can't admit that to yourself. Hah! When we get done with you, all your life before this will seem like a dream."
She moved the gleaming, sharp-pointed scissors near to his cock. Mark gasped, and shrank back into the cushions, white with fear.
Martha chuckled as his cock went soft. "Don't worry, baby, I'm not going to cut you off. That would be such a waste! Especially with the uses I've got planned for it. Now just relax, and don't act so childishly."
She used the scissors to snip off a lock of his pubic hair. "I'll keep this for a souvenir. Hmmmm ... maybe I'll shave your bush clean. I wonder what the other boys in gym class would say if they saw that?"
Mark's sick groan showed that he wasn't eager for her to shave him.
"Don't like the idea, eh?" Martha said. "Too bad. It doesn't matter what you like or don't like. All that matters is what I or Denise like. And that's the most important thing for you to remember, slave-only our pleasure matters."
Martha cut him loose from the chair. She snipped open the ropes holding his upper body to the chair, then the ropes binding his ankles to the chair legs.
She said, "You better not stand up for a few minutes, until the circulation is restored in your feet. Otherwise, you might fall over."
She had him lean forward in the chair, so she could free his hands. His chest pressed against the tops of his thighs.
She cut the cords and pulled them from his hands. Mark sat up, bringing his hands in front of him. They were cold and purple.
Martha untied the black silk cord holding the gag inside. She got some tissues from the box and handed them to him.
"Here," she said. "You can take those sopping tissues out of your mouth. They're so messy that I don't want to touch them. Put them in these tissues and throw them in the waste basket."
Mark flexed his fingers. They were stiff and clumsy. He opened his mouth and scooped out the pulpy mess that was the semen and saliva-saturated tissues which had served as a degrading gag for him.
He did as Martha commanded. It hurt to walk. His feet hurt, his hands hurt, and his bottom ached. He threw the mess into the basket.
He said, "Aunt Martha, may I speak, please?"
"I don't see why not, little boy."
Mark took a deep breath. "You were right, Aunt Martha. This is all strange to me. Maybe I'm sick, but I-I love it!"
His face reddened as he blurted this admisssion out.
"That's like I said," Martha said. "You're a born submissive. How lucky you were that I found you. So many submissives spend their entire lives dreaming of and never meeting a dominant mistress. You're just a boy, but you've already met two of them-or at least, one-and-a-half. Denise is far from a full-fledged mistress, just as you have a long road to travel before becoming a slave. You both have a lot to learn, and I'll make sure that you do."
She said, "You can show your gratitude by kissing my foot, Mark."
"Thank you, Aunt Martha," he mumbled. He got down on his knees at her feet.
Martha wiggled her toes. Mark lowered his head and kissed the top of her foot. There was a faint, fragrant aroma. He plastered the foot with wet kisses.
Martha said, "That's very nice, but it would be even nicer if you took my toes in your mouth and sucked them. Do it."
She lifted her foot. Mark took her big toe in his mouth. It was warm and smooth and thick. He closed his lips on it and sucked it.
Martha made him lick all her toes clean, and the spaces between the toes, too. He even licked the soles of her feet.
Finally she said, "You didn't do that half-badly, Mark. I know that you're a good student in school. I expect you to be an even better student in my school of domination and slave training."
"I'll do my best, Aunt Martha."
"I expect nothing less than your best, Mark, and I'm sure that you won't disappoint me. But now, I think that it's time you were in bed."
She went to the closet and took some brown velvet ropes out of the black box. "Let's go into the guest room, Mark. That's where you'll be sleeping tonight. I wouldn't mind keeping you in here, but that wouldn't be fair to Denise. Besides, you have to prove that you deserve our favors. So, let's go."
They exited the bedroom. Denise's door was closed, and her lights were out. Martha and Mark entered the guest room.
It was a small room in the corner of the house. It was under the roof, and the low ceiling was slanted, giving it a vaguely distorted look.
There was a narrow bed, a chest of drawers, and a large wooden trunk in the corner. The room smelled musty, but it was warm and toasty.
Martha opened the wooden trunk. It was filled with feminine garments. A sweet fragrance of perfume came out from it. She rummaged through the trunk.
She found a garment and took it out. It was a lacy, gauzy white gown with ruffles at the hem and lace at the throat.
Martha said, "I'm going to put this on you, Mark."
"Why do I have to wear girl's clothes, Aunt Martha?"
"Because it pleases me to put you in them. And keep that whining tone out of your voice, or I'll really give you something to whine about!"
Martha put the garment on him. It was sheer and wispy and clinging. It crackled on his smooth flesh, stirring and confusing his senses.
It had spaghetti-thin shoulder straps, and a plunging neckline. The hem came down to the tops of his thighs.
She asked him, "Now, doesn't that feel good?"
He had to admit that it did. He couldn't deny it, not with the way that his cock had thickened and hardened as soon as he put the garment on.
Martha said, "Ummm, so sheer and sexy! You look great in lingerie, Mark. I can't wait to dress you up tomorrow. But that's tomorrow. Now, it's time you were in bed." She pulled down the blankets. "Get in, child."
The bed had pink satin sheets. His flesh rustled against them as he got on the mattress. He lay on his side, trying to keep his weight off his bottom.
Martha put her hands on his shoulders, and forced him to lie on his back. He groaned softly, his face creasing with pain.
Martha said, "I did beat hell into your bottom, didn't I? I'd rub some ointment into your behind, like I did for Denise, except that I don't want to get it on the sheets. But tomorrow I'll give you some first aid on your cute little ass."
She lifted his arms, and stretched them back over his head. "I'm going to have to tie you to the bed, Mark. I'll sleep soundly knowing you'll stay out of trouble."
There were iron rings set into the wooden bed frame at the corners of its head and foot. Martha used the velvet cords to bind him spread-eagled to the bed.
The cords were soft and caressed his flesh. She tied them so that they fit snugly and didn't cut off his circulation. She secured the cords to the iron rings.
When she finished binding him, she said, "There! That should hold you until morning. And with your hands tied, you won't be able to play with yourself."
She licked her lips. "Did you ever eat pussy, Mark?"
He confessed that he never had.
She said, "Well, I'm too tired to teach you tonight. But tomorrow you can be sure that you'll get a thorough lesson on the subject, and I mean thorough!"
She sat on the edge of the mattress. His cock was hard, and bulged against the beige panties. The cock head jutted out of the waistband.
She fondled his member. "I really shouldn't put you to bed with that nasty thing sticking out so firm and hard."
She pushed the hem of his nightie up to his waist, and pulled down his panties. She gripped his cock and held it upright.
She said, "This is just a sample of how I reward good little boys."
She lowered her head, opened her mouth, and took his cock into it.
Mark gasped, "Oh, Aunt Martha! I never-I never thought you would do this!"
She didn't answer. Her mouth was full. Her glossy red lips pressed against his throbbing shaft. She rubbed his swollen cock head against the roof of her mouth.
Her dark hair brushed his thighs. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his member.
She bobbed her head up and down. She would take the member deep in her throat, then pull back her head so that only the cock head was between her lips.
She sucked his slowly and sensually, taking her time, not rushing. She worked her tongue against the underside of his cock, and licked the tiny hole in the cock head.
Mark felt like his member had been plugged into a pleasure circuit. His cock tingled with ten thousand needles of electric pleasure.
He moved his hips back and forth, lifting his buttocks off the bed. It hurt his beaten bottom, but the pain only added to his pleasure.
Martha fondled his balls while she sucked him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Mark whimpered, "I can't hold back any longer, Aunt Martha!"
She took his cock out of her mouth long enough to tell him not to hold back, but to let himself go. A strand of saliva drooled from her mouth.
Then she stuffed his cock back between her lips, and sucked it.
Mark was afraid. He thought it was some kind of trick to get him to come, so that he could be punished for the crime of losing control.
But he didn't really care. This was the first time he had ever been taken by mouth, and he was incredibly excited.
Any kind of beating would be worth it, for this ecstasy.
Martha did something tricky with her lips and tongue, working them against his cock head. That pushed Mark over the edge, and into orgasm.
There was a wrenching sensation in his belly as semen erupted from his cock.
He didn't know what Martha was going to do. But she took his cock deep in her throat, and gulped down his come as it gushed from his cock.
Mark writhed on the bed. He clutched the velvet ropes binding him to the bed. He whipped his head from side to side and moaned.
His member felt like a bar of molten pleasure. His semen came in spurts. Martha's jaw muscles worked as she swallowed.
Gasping, Mark sank back into the mattress. He squeezed his eyes shut.
Martha kept his penis in her mouth long after he stopped coming. Even after the last drops had been squeezed out, his cock quivered and throbbed on her tongue.
She fondled his trembling thighs. She rubbed his chest through the gauzy nightie, and pinched his tiny pink nipples erect.
Finally, she eased his member out of her mouth. His penis was red and stiff and shining with its coating of saliva and semen.
Martha licked her lips. "You're a very sweet boy."
She climbed on top of him. He could feel her body heat. Her heavy breasts bobbed and dangled. He wanted to take a nipple into his mouth.
"Kiss me," she said. She pressed her mouth against his.
He was ashamed to do so, since he had just come inside her mouth. But he was even more afraid to refuse to obey her.
She crushed his lips with hers, and boldly thrust her tongue into his mouth.
He kissed her back. She held his head in her hands and kissed him long and hard.
After a while, she broke the kiss. "That was nice, Mark."
"That was so good, Aunt Martha! I never did that before! It was so good!"
She said, "You can't know what a privilege you were given, when I took you by mouth. I only do that for my very favorite slaves, and you're only a novice, and barely even that.
Why, I have slaves who've served me for years, and have yet to be given permission to kiss my ass!"
He tried to thank her. She put her finger on his lips, silencing him.
"You be quiet, and go to sleep," she said. "You're going to need your rest for tomorrow-and for the rest of the weekend!"
She pulled the panties up over his cock, covering it. "We'll just put that thing away for the night." She pulled his nightie into place.
She covered him with the sheets and blankets, pulling them up to his neck and tucking them into place.
She bent to kiss him once more. It was not a maternal kiss. It was hot and demanding. Her urgency and sexual heat frighened and excited him.
She asked, "Can you taste your come in my mouth?"
"I don't know," he said. "I've never tasted it before, so I'm not sure."
"You can be sure that you'll be tasting plenty of it in the future," Martha said. "Your own, and maybe some from my other slaves, too!"
She laughed at the expression of dismay on his face.
She said, "I'll leave you for now. I guess that I should take you to the bathroom, but frankly, I'm too tired to bother untieing and tieing you again. So you'll just have to hold yourself in until morning. I know that you're too smart to do something stupid like waking me up in the middle of the night, or, even worse, having an accident in bed."
She went to the door. "See you in the morning, Mark. Sweet dreams."
She turned out the lights, closed the door, and went to her bedroom.
Mark lay in the dark, his eyes open. He thought that he could probably pull the ropes free, if he worked long and hard enough on them.
But even if he did do that, so what? Why should he bother? He didn't really want to leave this house of dominant, demanding women.
He had had more sexual excitement and frenzy in this one night than he had had in all his previous sixteen years of life.
Martha was a strong, sexy, big-breasted woman. Denise was a beautiful girl. He didn't care how much pain and humiliation he had to endure, as long as he could serve them and be with them.
In one wild night, he had gone from being a horny teenager in the real world, to a willing captive in a strange house where females reigned supreme.
Even the pain and humiliation were deliriously exciting. He didn't know why that was, but it was a fact.
He wondered what Martha and Denise would do to him this weekend. He feared it, but he couldn't wait to find out what would happen next.
The throbbing of his strapped bottom kept him awake for a long time. The nightie smelled sweet and fragrant and all perfumed.
The house was silent. He listened to the sounds of cars driving through the night. Finally, after an hour or two of heated imaginings which made his cock stiffen, he at last drifted off into sleep.
He woke up early in the morning, while it was still dark outside.
He lay on his side. There had been enough play in his bonds for him to twist off his back, and on his side.
There was a tension in his bladder which demanded to be relieved by going to the bathroom. But there was nothing he could do but hold it in.
That was difficult to do. The pressure steadily built up inside him. He squeezed his thighs together tightly, and clenched his fists.
Time passed. At long last, he heard Martha's alarm going off in her room, and then being shut off.
He wanted to call out to her, and beg to be allowed to relieve himself, but he didn't dare to disturb her. So he lay curled on his side, whimpering softly.
The sounds of movement came from Martha's room. She was awake and up and about.
Fifteen minutes later, Martha went into Denise's room, and woke her up. Mark estimated that it must be around seven o'clock in the morning now.
Outside his shaded window, the black of night was replaced with gray light.
Footsteps approached his room. The door opened, and Martha and Denise entered.
Martha wore a long-sleeved black robe with lace trimmings. Beneath it she wore a pair of black lace panties. Her breasts were bare.
The panties were semi-transparent. Mark could see the thick, tufted hair of her pubic bush through the lacy panties.
On her feet were a pair of open-toed, red satin high-heeled shoes. The arches were exaggerated, and the heels were six-inch spikes.
The high heels accented the contours of her calves and thighs.
Denise wore a pair of white bikini panties. They were satin, and had little delicate floral designs embroidered on them.
The perfumed panties made a white triangle on her slender hips. They were cut low, so that the top of her pubic bush was visible.
She wore a simple flannel robe which was cozily domestic and not sexy. But she was very sexy. Her feet were covered by the slippers with the pom-poms on them.
Denise said, "Hi, slave!"
Martha said, "Good morning, Mark. I hope you slept as well as I did."
He said good morning to them. Denise pulled down the blankets, and reached for his panties. "Let's see if he's got a morning hard-on, Mother."
He did. His member was stiff and erect. But sex was the last thing on his mind.
Denise stroked the shaft, and licked her lips.
Martha said, "Don't get started, Denise. You've got to get ready for school."
"Couldn't I skip school today, and stay home with you?"
"I might have said yes, if you hadn't skipped classes yesterday. But your grades are none too good, and you really can't afford to miss a day."
"What about Mark? Is he going to school today?"
"No," Martha said. "I'm keeping him here today."
"That's not fair, Mother! He's the slave, but I'm the one who has to go to school! It should be the other way around! Or at least let me stay home, too!"
"Mark is an excellent student, and his grades won't suffer if he misses a day. I can't say the same for you, Denise. Now, no more arguments, dear."
"All right, Mother," Denise sighed. She said to Mark, "Just you wait until I come home this afternoon! Then you're really going to get it!"
Martha said, "I have an amusing idea. Since Mark is such a good student, perhaps he can tutor you in the subjects you're weakest in. At the same time, you'll be teaching him how to be a good little slave."
"That sounds great, Mother!" Denise's eyes were shining. "Why don't we start today?"
"We will-when you come home from school. Now go and get ready, Denise."
Making a sour face, Denise released Mark's cock, left the room, and went into the bathroom, leaving Martha alone with Mark.
Mark had been hoping that she would release him, but she showed no signs of doing so. He swallowed his pride and made his humiliating request.
"May I please go to the bathroom, Aunt Martha? I really have to go badly!"
"I'm sure you do," she said. "But since you've held it in for so long, you might as well hold it in a little while longer."
Even so, she began unknotting the cords which bound him to the bed.
When she untied him, he sat up on the bed, and winced.
"How's your bottom?" Martha asked. "Pretty sore?"
"Is it ever!" he said.
"I'm afraid that it's not going to get much chance to recover today."
She took Mark's wrists, and pulled him to his feet. She opened her robe, so he could see her plump, naked breasts with their fat pink nipples.
"Today's the day that I'm really going to have some fun," she said.
She put her hand on the back of his neck. She pulled his head to her bosom.
He rubbed his face against the warm, yielding softness of her breasts. Martha moved her upper body from side to side, pushing her breasts against his hot face.
She cupped her breast in her palm and lifted it so that the nipple was only inches away from his mouth.
"Would you like to nurse at my breasts, child?"
He shyly confessed that he would love to do so.
She said, "You'll have to earn the privilege first." She laughed and pulled away from him. Her nipples were stiffly erect, and throbbing.
A few minutes later, Denise came out of the bathroom. Her flesh was pink and scrubbed and shiny, and her hair was dark and damp. She went into her room so she could get dressed. She left the door open.
Martha said, "You may to to the bathroom now, Mark."
Martha swatted his bottom to speed him on his way. He didn't need it, though. He was desperate to get to the bathroom. Martha followed right behind him.
The bathroom was steamy from the shower Denise had just taken. The tiled floor was wet, and the mirrors were steamed with fog.
Mark was practically dancing with anxiety. He was bent over, and had his thighs squeezed together. He reached for the door to shut it.
Martha stood in the doorway. "What do you think you're doing, Mark?"
He explained that he was going to close the door so he could have privacy.
She laughed. "Privacy is a thing of the past for you, honey. You really don't think I'm going to leave you here unsupervised, do you? I'm sure that you'd only play with yourself and make yourself come if I did."
He swore that he wouldn't, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Finally tiring of her fun, Martha warned him to stop complaining, or she would punish him.
To make things even worse, she called, "Come in here, Denise, and take a look at this!" Denise came and stood outside the door, looking in.
Martha said, "Well, what are you waiting for, Mark? You said that you have to go, so do your business."
"Maybe he isn't toilet trained yet, Mother," Denise said.
"I'm sure he hasn't had our kind of toilet training," Martha laughed.
Mark lifted the toilet seat. Martha said, "What are you doing?"
His face was red. "Why, er, uh, I'm, uh , going to the bathroom."
"Not that way, you're not," Denise said.
Martha said, "Men urinate standing up. But little slave boys don't."
Martha came into the bathroom. Mark looked nervously at her.
She said, "Slave boys have to do it just like girls-sitting down."
Denise leaned against the door frame, looking in and laughing out loud.
Martha put down the toilet seat, and told Mark to sit down on it.
She said, "Pull your panties down first, honey. No, wait. I'll do it."
She tugged down her panties. Mark sat on the seat. It was warm against his bottom. He was all but choking with humiliation.
"Now, lift the nightie up around your waist, dear," Martha said.
Mark bunched the nightie's ruffled hem around his waist. His cock was erect, and the rigid underside of it pressed against the slick plastic seat.
Denise giggled. "Look, Mother! He can't get his penis down!"
"I'll take care of that," Martha said. She leaned forward. Her breasts popped out of her robe, and swatted his burning face.
She gripped his cock, lifted it, and pushed it down between his legs. She held it with the cock head aimed at the water in the bowl.
"Go ahead and do your business, Mark," she cooed.
Mark strained and sweated, but nothing happened. His face was practically purple with embarrassment. Denise's merry laughter made it worse.
Martha lifted an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Mark? I thought you had to go so badly that you could hardly stand it!"
"I do!" he muttered. "It's just that I can't do it while you're here!"
"Nonsense," Martha said. "It's just that you're tensed. But I'll relax you." She reached between his legs with her free hand.
She began fondling his testicles. She delicately and sensually manipulated his testicles. Her other hand still gripped his cock.
She tickled the underside of his shaft. "Come on, now, don't be shy ... "
Finally, the urgency overcame his embarrassment, and he was able to urinate.
He felt lightheaded and giddy. If it was possible to faint from humiliation, he surely would have done so at that moment.
Denise's near-hysterical laughter didn't make him any happier. And Martha was all smiles as she held his shaft and directed the yellow stream.
At last it was over, and the last few drops dribbled into the bowl. Martha used some toilet paper to wipe a yellow drop from his cock head.
She flushed the toilet. Mark got up. His nightie dropped into place, and he pulled his panties up around his hips.
He followed Martha into the hall, hanging his head in shame.
Martha said, "From now on, slave boy, every time you have to urinate, that's how you're going to do it. And I'll be right there, to make sure you do it right."
Denise said, "We have lots of other games we play in the bathroom with slaves!"
Martha said, "Yes, and I'm sure we'll play most of them with Mark before the weekend is over. But you'd better finish dressing, Denise. It's getting late."
Denise wore a plain, white nylon bra, white panties, and a white slip.
She said, "Okay, Mother. But I sure wish that I was staying home!"
"You just save it for the weekend, honey," Martha told her.
Denise went into her room. Martha told Mark to follow her downstairs. He did so. The two of them went into the kitchen.
Mark thanked heaven that the lacy curtains on the kitchen window were closed.
Martha asked him, "Cart you cook?"
"No, Aunt Martha."
"You'll learn. You'll make a fine houseboy when I finish teaching you. But for now, I suppose I'll have to make the breakfast. You can set the table."
By the time that Denise came into the kitchen, it was filled with the aromas of frying eggs, crackling bacon, toast, and coffee.
There was a small pot boiling on top of the stove. It was filled with a mushy, creamy, liquid concoction of creamed wheat.
Denise wore a long-sleeved black blouse with tiny white buttons, a red skirt, and black tights. Her feet were in penny loafers. Her braids hung down on her breasts.
"Thank you, Mother," she said. "Hey, how come there's three places set at the table? Don't tell me that you're letting Mark eat with us?!"
Martha said, "It was my mistake. I forgot to tell him. You take that other place setting away, Mark. Slaves and mistresses don't eat at the same table."
Mark glumly put the silverware and the plate away. His mouth watered from the tantalizing aromas of the food.
Martha covered her plate and Denise's plate with eggs, toast, and bacon. She was a big woman with a hearty appetite, and she dished herself a healthy serving.
Denise said, "Why don't you feed Mark now, Mother? I'd like to watch."
"Good idea," Martha said. She went to the pantry, and took out a bright orange plastic dog's dish.
She found some old newpapers, opened them, and arranged them on the floor near the kitchen sink. She emptied the contents of the pot of hot cereal into the plastic dog's dish, and set it down on the newspaper square.
"There's your breakfast," Martha said to him. "Dig in."
He said, "You mean, you want me to eat out of that bowl?"
"That's right-just like a dog. And don't use your hands, either. You'll have to do it with your mouth, and your mouth alone."
"Shouldn't you tie his hands, Mother?" Denise asked.
"I don't think that's necessary. Mark seems to be rather obedient, now that we've whipped the cockiness out of him. But that's nothing compared to the whipping he'll get if he dares to use his hands to lift the bowl."
Martha sat down at the table. "I'd wait for a few minutes and let the hot cereal cool off, Mark." She dug into her breakfast.
He got down on his hands and knees. He hated hot cereal, but he was very hungry, and his stomach was growling.
Steam rose from the cereal's surface. He knelt in front of the bowl. He lowered his face to it, then halted.
In order for him to get his mouth into the cereal, he had to put his nose in it first. He could have wept with frustration.
Martha suggested, "Lap it up, just like a good doggie. And don't worry about making a mess. That's what the newspaper is there for."
Mark stuck out his tongue, and started lapping up the cereal. He could only get a little bit on his tongue at a time, and it was a long, excruciatingly humiliating process.
The cereal smeared on his nose, mouth, cheeks and chin. He had to make loud slurping noises, which amused Martha and her dominant daughter.
They finished their breakfast. Martha said, "Ordinarily, I'd have the slave clear the table, but I don't want to be served by such a sloppy eater."
She cleared the plates off the table. Looking at the clock, she said, "You'd better get going, Denise, if you don't want to be late for school."
"Okay, Mother." Denise pulled on her jacket, and picked up her school books.
She said, "I know that you'll take good care of this slave until I come home."
"I'll break him in properly for you, dear," Martha said.
Denise said, "I would have you kiss my feet before I leave, Mark, but not when you've got all that mess on your mouth. But you'll be all clean for me later, and that's when I'll really put that mouth of yours to work!"
She kissed her mother goodbye. Martha embraced her and kissed her on the mouth and stuck her tongue into it. She fondled Denise's bottom.
When she broke the kiss, Denise asked her, "Sure you won't change your mind about having me stay home, Mother?"
"On your way, child!" Martha swatted Denise's bottom playfully.
Denise opened the back door. "See you later, Mother. Keep Mark warm for me."
She went outside, closing the door behind her.
Martha said, "Well, Mark, here we are, all alone, just the two of us. But don't let that give you any ideas. I'll do your thinking for you. And the first thing that I think should be done is to have you cleaned off."
She looked down into the bowl. "You haven't finished your breakfast, dear."
"I'm not hungry anymore, Aunt Martha," he said.
"Well, I'll just leave it here, so you can snack on it later."
She got some paper towels, wet them, and rubbed the cereal off his face. She rubbed it against him very hard, so that his skin was pink and shiny.
"There! Now you look much more presentable!" she said. "Now, put your apron on, and do the dishes. And when you're done with that, I've got lots more chores for you to do. I'm going to keep you busy, busy, busy today."
Mark stood up. Martha tied the apron on him, the same one he had worn the night before. She fondled his bottom, which was still sore and sensitive.
Mark washed and dried the dishes, and put them away. While he worked, Martha kept rubbing against him, caressing and teasing and tantalizing him.
While he put the dishes away, she went upstairs. She returned a few minutes later.
She had her black patent leather whipping belt with her.
Mark turned pale when he saw it.
Martha said, "Good, you've finished your kitchen chores. Before you get started on anything else, I'm going to give you some domestic discipline. Take off your apron and hang it up, and then go into the living room."
When he was nude, she marched him into the living room. She had a velvet cord and she used it to tie his hands behind his back.
When he was securely tied, she sat down on a velvet-covered red couch. She held the doubled strap so that it rested on her plump white thighs.
"Come here and lie down across Aunt Martha's lap," she crooned. "Now your slave training will really begin!"
CHAPTER SIX
Martha pulled Mark across her lap. Her robe opened in the center, and her heavy breasts dangled freely. She moved him into position.
Martha said, "Haven't you forgotten something, dear?"
"Uh, what's that, Aunt Martha?"
"You forgot to beg me to take the time to discipline you."
His face reddened. "I'm sorry, Aunt Martha.
I-I'm a bad boy. Would you please spank me, like I deserve? Please, Aunt Martha?"
"That I will, Mark. Don't think that I've forgotten about how you spied on Denise and me. You're going to be punished for that for a long, long time. It will take a heap of strappings before you've redeeemed yourself for that misbehavior!"
Martha began strapping his naked bottom.
It wasn't so very long before he was whimpering and moaning. He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't stop the hot tears from spilling from his eyes.
Martha held him tightly. His naked groin pressed against her bare thighs.
He squirmed and sobbed as fresh redness was beaten into his bottom.
To his horror, his cock hardened and became erect.
He didn't know if it was because of the feverish excitement of his humiliation, the stimulation of the strap, or the seductive presence of Martha.
Whatever the reason, his cock was a rigid rod of flesh. It rubbed against Martha's plump, smooth, warm thighs.
Mark wept bitterly. Martha ignored his cries, and sternly strapped him.
He nestled deeper into her sheltering lap. He moved his hips back and forth, rubbing his cock against her flesh, heating it up.
Martha was too wise in the ways of domination not to know what he was doing. But it was just what she wanted him to do, and it fit into her plans.
His head hung down. He saw her shapely calf and slender ankle and her black leather shoe. It had a sharply pointed toe and a stiletto heel.
Martha knew that he was near his climax. She doubled her efforts, strapping him viciously to send him over the edge.
He' felt himself about to come. "Aunt Martha-please-I'm going to-"
Semen explosively jetted from his member. His red rod spurted come on Martha's hot thighs. She snarled, "You filthy, nasty little boy!"
She pushed him off her lap. He tumbled to the floor, his cock still shooting.
He knelt at her feet, his stiff cock quivering, semen gushing down his shaft.
He sobbed, "I'm sorry, Aunt Martha! I couldn't help myself! I'm sorry!"
She stood up. Semen glistened on her thighs. "You miserable little wretch! Now you're really going to be punished!"
She grabbed his hair, pulled his head up, and slapped his face.
He didn't resist or try to pull away. He rocked with the impact of the blow.
"You got your come all over me," she said. "Well, you're going to take it back!" She wiped some of it off her thigh.
She told him to take her fingers in his mouth, and suck the come off them.
He opened his mouth wide. He was quite frightened, and would have done anything to get back into her good graces.
He didn't know-couldn't know-that he had done exactly what she wanted him to do.
Martha's philosophy of slave training required that the slave associate the concepts of pain and humiliation with orgasm.
It was like programming a computer, except the computer that she was programming was the human brain.
She held her fingers together, and shoved thein into his mouth. She still gripped his hair. Pulling it by the roots, she held his head up.
She said, "I want you to suck my fingers the way that I sucked you off last night! Work that tongue around in there!"
He slurped and sucked. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked her fingers clean. His tongue played over the fingers, licking them.
When he was done, Martha took her fingers out of his mouth, and wiped his saliva off on his face.
She sat down on the couch. "Don't make the mistake of thinking that I'm done with you yet, little boy! You're going to lick my thighs clean, too!"
She pulled his head between her spread legs. Mark stuck out his tongue, mastered his revulsion, and lapped up his semen.
There was a lot of it. He tried to lick it at the rim of the semen splotches, where the milky fluid was spread the thinnest.
"Don't be afraid to get your face wet!" Martha said. She pushed his face against her thigh, smearing semen all over him.
Mark licked and lapped. When one thigh was clean, she forced him to do the same to the other.
When he had licked her clean to her satisfaction, she released his head, and stood up. Her lush breasts heaved with agitation. The nipples were stiff.
She said, "Since you've got your mouth working, don't stop now!"
She pulled down her panties and stepped out of them without taking off her high-heeled shoes. Flesh rippled on her thighs and hips.
"I told you that I was going to teach you how to eat pussy," she said. "This is as good a time for you to learn as any!"
She sat back down, spreading her legs wide open. Her bush was a furry black triangle in the center of her wide white hips.
Her pussy lips were thick and fat, almost blubbery. They peeped lewdly out of the thick covering of pubic hair.
Martha took a deep breath, calming herself somewhat. "I know that you've never done this before, but there's really nothing to it."
She gripped his hair, and pulled his frightened face toward her pussy.
"First, you can kiss me on the lips--my pussy lips!"
Mark pressed his face against her pussy. He had never seen a woman this close before. He was fascinated by the soft intricacy of her pussy.
He held his lips closed, and touched them to her pussy. Her labia were soft and silky. A pungent, musky aroma filled his nostrils, exciting him.
Martha said, "Is that how you kiss somebody, with your lips closed? Open your mouth, idiot child, and lick my pussy lips!"
He touched his tongue to her labia. They tasted like ... flesh.
The lips rippled and quivered as he ran his pointed tongue along them.
After a few moments, her pussy lips glistened with silver saliva.
Mark's mouth and chin were wet with saliva. He was starting to enjoy serving Martha in this fashion, and was desperately eager to please.
Martha sighed heavily. She squirmed around on the cushions. Her nipples were stiff and pointed and throbbing.
"That's not bad, slave boy," she said. "Now, kiss me between my pussy lips. Do it just like you were French kissing a girl on the mouth. Only the mouth is between my legs. Stick your tongue into me, and lick my insides."
Mark gingerly slipped his tongue between her labia.
Her pussy was hot and wet. His tongue tingled as it touched her slippery pink membranes. He thrust his tongue deeper, pressing his nose against her labia.
Martha moved forward on the couch, thrusting her pussy more tightly against his mouth. Mark licked her, her juices tingling on his taste buds.
After a few moments, Martha pushed his face away from her pussy.
He was afraid. "Did I do something wrong, Aunt Martha?"
"Not at all. You're doing everything right. But there's something that I have to show you before you pick up where you left off."
She put her fingers on her pussy lips and spread them apart, showing pink.
She said, "See this little fleshy button at the top of my pussy? It looks like a little marble, or a pearl."
"Yes, I see it, Aunt Martha."
"That's my clitoris. That's one of the most sensitive parts of a woman. I want you to lick it very slowly and gently until I tell you to stop."
"Yes, Aunt Martha."
He inched closer to her on his knees. Martha held her pussy lips apart for him.
Mark touched his tongue tip to the clitoris. It quivered.
He began licking it just as she had told him. Martha watched him carefully, her heavy hands ready to slap if he failed to please her.
He played his tongue over the clitoris. Martha relaxed, and finally released her labia. His tongue continued to press against the clitoris.
She abandoned herself to pleasure. She kept her hand on his head, holding his hair so that she could guide him.
He licked the clitoris until the root of his tongue was sore. But he didn't really mind. This was much better than being strapped.
His head bobbed as his mouth worked. Martha began to gyrate her hips in response to his thrusting tongue.
With her free hand, she fondled her breasts. She played with her erect nipples, pinching and teasing them, rubbing and squeezing them.
Her thighs rippled and quivered. Her pussy was wet and juicy. She gasped as hot pleasure radiated through her pussy and up into her belly.
She took slow, deep breaths, causing her plump breasts to rise and fall.
There was the liquid sound of his tongue working on her wet pussy, and the slow, heavy sound of her breathing.
Her thighs quivered. Her hands were shaking. She was on the verge of a climax.
She pinched her nipples very hard, digging her sharp nails into the nipples.
She pulled his head hard against her squirming pussy.
Suddenly, she squeezed her thighs closed on his head.
For an instant, Mark panicked. He thought that Martha was having a fit.
Then he realized that she was coming, as she had done last night, when Denise tongued her to orgasm.
Martha groaned with pleasure. Her masses of warm flesh rippled and shook as her big-boned body trembled with ecstasy.
Mark's face was pressed against her wet pussy. The flesh covered his nostrils and mouth, smothering him so he couldn't breathe.
Her thighs were startlingly strong, and he realized that he couldn't break loose from them if he wanted to.
Martha let her thighs fall open. She pushed his face away from her pussy.
She shuddered with orgasm. She squeezed her eyes shut, until they were dark slits in her round, sweating face.
She gasped. She closed her thighs. The rolls of soft flesh at her waist rippled and jiggled. She went, "Oh, oh, oh, oooooooooh!"
Her head lowered until her chin rested on her chest. Sweat covered her upper body and the tops of her breasts.
Mark was starting to learn his lessons. He knelt quietly at her feet, not speaking or moving.
He thought that she might not like him staring at her, so he lowered his eyes and looked at her feet with their high-heeled shoes.
After a few moments, Martha sighed and stood up. Her expression was lazy and satisfied, and her eyes gleamed.
She tottered a bit unsteadily on her feet. She put her hand on his shoulder to steady herself.
Mark asked shyly, "Did I do it right, Aunt Martha?"
"Not bad for your first time," she said. Her voice was husky and rasping. "Of course you've got a lot to learn, but you've made a promising start. But then I always said that you were a good student."
She told him to get up. He rose to his feet. His cock was limp but swollen.
She said, "Now, don't get a swelled head just because I complimented you. You're still in plenty of hot water with me, sonny boy."
She told him to go upstairs. She picked up her leather belt, and escorted him to the bathroom on the second floor.
She used a soapy washcloth to clean the dried semen off his cock and his pubic bush. His penis stiffened under her handling.
She took him into her bedroom. "You need a lot of training, Mark. You're a horny little boy, I'll say that! But I've got a way to keep you out of trouble."
She told him to take the black box out of her closet, and set it down on her bed. He did so. She threw back the lid of the box.
It was jam-packed with a variety of restraints, dildos, bondage devices, and other instruments of pain and pleasure.
Mark stared at them with wide eyes. He didn't know what half the devices were, and hadn't the faintest idea of what in the world they could be used for.
He would soon find out.
Martha saw him staring goggle-eyed at a fat, flesh-colored dildo.
She took it out so he could have a better look at it.
She said, "Do you know what this is, slave boy?"
"It-it looks like a penis, Aunt Martha. A rubber penis."
She patted his head. "That's just what it is. This is a very handy tool, and happens to be one of my personal favorites."
She continued, "With it, a mistress can use a slave boy just like he was a little slave girl. Do you know what I mean?"
"N-no, Aunt Martha." His voice broke. He was uneasy and upset.
Martha said, "Have you ever been fucked in your ass? No, of course not; that's a silly question to ask a straight arrow like you."
"But that's one of the things I use this dildo for-to fuck my slaves in their bottoms, and use them like girls."
"You-you wouldn't do that to me, Aunt Martha?!"
"Why not? Slaves don't stay virgins very long, honey."
She fondled his bottom. "You've got a really cute ass. It'll be a rare treat to take your cherry from behind. I know Denise wants to do it, but I reserve that pleasure for myself, alone!"
He was trembling. Martha said, "In fact, I want to get a better look at that bottom of yours. Spread your legs and bend forward."
He did as she commanded. He leaned forward and rested his palms on the bed.
Martha stood behind him. He moaned when she put her hands on his bottom.
"My, my," she said, "you are the nervous type! Don't worry, honey-I'm not going to take you now. I only want to take a look."
She parted his bottom cheeks, exposing the sheltered cleft of his ass.
His anus was tiny and brown and puckered. Martha ran her finger up and down his crack, lightly caressing him. He moaned.
She prodded his anus with her finger tip. The brown ring contracted, shrinking inward on itself. Martha laughed.
"Oh yes, you're a virgin in your ass, no doubt about that. But you won't stay one for long-not in this house."
She rubbed the dildo head up and down the crack of his ass, teasing him.
"That's what I'll do," she said. "I'll show Denise how to make you into a perfect little sex slave. You won't be the first teenager I've done it to, either. But you will be the first of my neighbors ... well, almost the first. There have been others, as you'll find out sooner or later."
She released his cheeks. They closed tightly. She put down the dildo.
She said, "Hmmmm ... as long as I've got you in that position, I might as well take advantage of it."
Shocked, he whined, "You're not going to do it to me now, are you?!"
She said, "Do what, honey? Fuck you in your tight little ass? No, not yet. That's so cute, that you're too shy to even say it."
She got the jar of ointment from her vanity. "No, I thought that as long as I've got you in such a convenient posture, I would rub some ointment into you. Would you like that, dear?"
"Yes, I would, Aunt Martha. My bottom stings so much!"
"This should soothe some of the hurt. I always use it on Denise after I've whipped her bottom."
Martha opened the jar, and rubbed a fat dollop of goo on her palms. Then she massaged it into Mark's whipped bottom.
The red cheeks rippled under her strong fingers. "There-how does that feel?"
"Very good, Aunt Martha. It's taking a lot of the sting away."
Martha was feeling playful. "As long as I'm rubbing this into the outside of your bottom, I mustn't forget the inside, either."
She dipped her index finger into the jar, and covered it with the oily jelly.
She slipped her finger between his bottom cheeks, and glided it up the crack of his ass, greasing him. Mark moaned.
She parted his bottom. She rubbed the ointment into his puckered anus, greasing it up. Then she slipped her finger into his anus.
He was very tight, and her action took him by surprise. But she penetrated him before he could tighten up. She chuckled at his shocked gasp.
Her finger was deep in him. His face was red and hot. She wiggled the finger against his hot, creamy membranes, then savored his sighs and wigglings.
"Well, well, look what we have here!" Martha said.
She reached around his hips with her free hand, and grabbed his member.
It was rigidly erect, and jutted out from his hips. She said, "It seems as though you get turned on by having things inserted in your ass!"
He was almost weeping with embarrassment. "No, I don't, really!"
"Don't lie to me, you little slut! I'll whip your ass raw if you do! Besides, the proof of your excitement is in my hand right now, and is it hard!"
Martha pushed her finger in and out of his ass, as though she were fucking him with it. As she penetrated his rectum, his cock throbbed in rhythmic response.
"Don't try to tell me that this doesn't turn you on," she sneered. "You know that you love it! Admit it! Say that you love to have your ass fucked! Say it!"
"I love to have my ass fucked," he whimpered.
"Well, you came to the right place for that, slave. But not right now. I'm afraid that you'll just have to wait until tonight."
She withdrew her finger from his ass, and wiped it clean on the back of his thigh. "All right, slave boy, you can stand up now."
Mark straightened up. His legs trembled, knocking his knees together. He was pale and confused and fearful.
He said, "You're not going to do that to me tonight, are you?!"
"Just watch me," she said.
He bit his lip. Tears glistened in his eyes. He realized that he was getting in deeper and deeper, sinking into the seductive quicksand of a slave's existence.
Martha wiped her hands clean. "I'm going to have to do something about that erection of yours. I've got a lot of household chores for you to do, and I don't want you distracted by that big, hard thing."
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Now, let's see, how can I get rid of that erection? I can't suck it off, because you haven't earned that reward. And I certainly wouldn't fuck it with my pussy! You won't be permitted that supreme privilege until I've fucked your virgin ass. I'll penetrate you before you penetrate me, slave boy! I could give you another strappingthat seems to make you come quick enough-but my arm is tired, and I can't be bothered."
She said, "I know what I'll do! I've got something that will keep your penis out of mischief!"
She took a leather device out of the box. "You know what a chastity belt is, don't you, Mark?"
"It's what they used in olden times, like when the knights went off to the crusades, and they wanted to make sure that their wives stayed faithful."
Martha said, "That was in the Middle Ages. But in my world, it's the mistress who puts the chastity belt on her male slaves, to keep them pure."
The device had a leather belt and a thick crotchpiece. Martha said, "That's what this is, a chastity belt for male slaves."
She buckled the belt part around his waist. Inside the crotchpiece, there was a black latex penis sheath.
Martha had no trouble pulling the sheath over his stiff cock. His flesh tingled from the sensual feel of the soft, smooth latex.
There were strings attached to it, and she used them to lace the sheath tightly around his member. His eyes bulged as she fastened the knots.
She said, "There's a butt plug that goes with this, but I'm not going to put it in you, honey." She pinched his cheek. "I'm saving your ass for later."
She pulled the crotchpiece strap up between the cheeks of his ass. She buckled the strap into place, pulling it tight-so tight that Mark gasped and rose up on tiptoes. She clicked a tiny but tough padlock into place to hold the belt locked.
She said, "There! Now you're all ready to go to work. And there's a lot of work to be done, to get you ready for Denise-for tonight."
She smiled wickedly. "This is going to be the wildest night of your young life, slave boy!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mark was serving Martha as a human footstool.
It was after dinner. The meal had been served, the food eaten, the dishes washed and dried and put away.
Martha was waiting for Denise to come back downstairs. Denise had gone up to change from her school clothes to an outfit more appropriate for sexual domination.
Mark was crouched on his hands and knees. He was nude, except for the chastity belt which he still wore, and which he had worn all day.
Martha was casually dressed. She wore a black chemise, black panties, and black patent leather high-heeled shoes.
She sat in an easy chair, facing the television in the living room, watching a TV game show. Mark was at her feet.
The spiked stiletto heels of her boots dug into the smooth flesh of his back, forming little dimples where they depressed the flesh.
On the table near Martha was the cup of coffee she was drinking. Her lit cigarette smoldered in the glass ashtray.
It had been a long and exhausting and degrading day for Mark. He had been in pain, but he had to admit that he had never known excitement like this before.
After Martha had fitted him into his chastity belt this morning, she had spent the rest of the day supervising him as he did a variety of house cleaning chores.
She had taken him back downstairs, and tied the frilly, feminine apron around his waist and put him to work.
First, she had him clean and vacuum the living room. She stood nearby, leather whipping belt in hand, observing his performance.
Mark doubted that the living room had been so thoroughly cleaned in years. Martha had him move the couch and the heavy chairs, so he could clean under them.
That was only the beginning. Next, she took him into the kitchen, where he was forced to get down on his hands and knees and scrub the floor.
She sat in a kitchen chair, reading the daily newspaper, while he worked. He had a pail of soapy water and a scrub brush.
Whenever she thought that he wasn't working fast enough, she would get up and lay the strap across his bottom, to improve his performance.
After the kitchen was cleaned to her exacting specifications (which wasn't easy, since she didn't let him stop until the floor literally shone), Martha permitted him to take a brief rest to eat lunch.
Mark's joy was shortlived, since his lunch consisted of the cereal that he hadn't finished that morning. Martha took pity on him, and at least heated it up, rather than making him eat it cold.
Of course, he was force'd to eat it from the dog's bowl, on his hands and knees.
Martha ate no such slop. She fixed herself a tasty and tantalizing lunch. Mark's mouth watered as he smelled the good food aromas.
When lunch was finished, she cleaned him up. Then he had to clear the table, do the dishes, and put them away.
When that was done, she took him back upstairs. For a moment, he thought that she was taking him there so she could use him sexually. He was both fearful and feverishly excited at the prospect.
It didn't happen, at least not at first. Instead, she put him to work cleaning up the upstairs rooms.
Mark was forced to vacuum her bedroom clean, and then Denise's. He was also required to clean the carpeted floor of the hallway.
Whenever the redness of his whipped bottom seemed to fade, Martha would make him stop what he was doing, and get into position for a strapping.
Mark was in a state of almost continual erection. Every time that his cock softened and relaxed, Martha would apply the strap to his bottom, and his erection would return, more thick and pulsing than ever.
She was wise, and never whipped him so much that he would ejaculate, and so relieve the tension. She kept him permanently frustrated.
After he had cleaned the upstairs rooms, Martha gave herself a break. She lay down on her bed with her panties down and her legs spread.
He was forced to kneel between her legs, and tongue her to a climax. By this time, he welcomed the opportunity, and rather enjoyed it.
He seemed to be picking up some technique, and was able to bring her to her orgasm in a short time.
There was no sexual relief for him, however. As soon as Martha had recovered from her orgasm, she pulled up her panties, and put him back to work.
She took him into the bathroom. He got down on his knees and scrubbed the tiled floor, but that wasn't enough to satisfy Martha.
He had been working hard, and even with the interruptions to serve her orally, or to be strapped, he was still running ahead of schedule.
Martha commanded him to lick the inside of the toilet bowl clean. He had to kneel on the tiled floor and stick his head inside the bowl.
He ran his tongue along the cool white porcelain. Martha sat on the edge of the bath tub behind him, and periodically whipped his bottom.
When he was finished, Martha flushed the toilet, and held his head inside it while the waters rushed over it.
Finally, she let him get up. His head was wet, and he was sputtering and choking. She laughed and told him he looked like a wet hen.
She made him gargle with antiseptic mouthwash, then took him back downstairs. She made him bend over the arm of the sofa.
Then she gave him a heavy-duty strapping which made his eyes flood with tears. He cried so loudly, that she was forced to gag him with her panties.
She pulled them off her hips, and stuffed them into his mouth. She was nude from the waist down. Her bottom jiggled as she wielded the strap.
She didn't stop until his bottom was whipped scarlet, and covered with welts. He sobbed uncontrollably.
She was very excited, and fondled her pussy while she strapped him. When she put aside the leather belt, she sat down with her legs spread.
She fondled herself to a climax. Mark lay across the chair arm, weeping.
Later, she took him back upstairs, and cleaned him up. She removed the chastity belt. His stiff penis was marked by the imprints of the strings which had bound it into the soft leather penile sheath.
She filled the tub with hot water, and added various lotions and bubble baths, and told him to get in.
She wouldn't let him wash himself. She did the job for him. She sat on the edge of the tub and scrubbed him clean with a cloth.
She paid special attention to his member and his bottom. She spent most of the time that he was in the bath washing those parts of his body.
She lathered white foam into his pubic bush. There were tiny beads of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. Strands of hair hung down on her face.
His cock was red and rubbery in her soapy hands. He was very close to coming from her sensual handling.
Martha knew it, and didn't intend to permit him the relief of unauthorized ejaculation. So she rinsed his member with cold water, cooling him off.
She vigorously scrubbed his bottom. It was sore and sensitive from the various strappings he had gotten, and it hurt him very much to be so roughly handled.
When she was done, she had him climb out of the tub and stand before her. She toweled him dry.
She held his head, and examined his face. "You don't even have to shave yet. All there is is peach fuzz on your face, and not much of that."
She massaged moistening lotions into his body. Her plump hands rubbed the oily lotions into his thighs and his belly and his bottom.
Then, once he was fully dry, she laced him back into the chastity belt, and locked it into place.
She went back into her bedroom, to put on a fresh pair of panties. These black panties had lace trimmings at the waistband and leg openings. He could see the hairs of her bush curling out of the sides of the panties' crotch.
By this time, it was past the middle of the afternoon.
Denise's school ended at three o'clock. She was home by three: twenty-five. She had practically run all the way home.
The first thing she saw when she entered the house was her mother relaxing in the living room, while Mark lay near her, in bondage.
He was hog-tied, and lying on his stomach. His legs were bent at a ninety-degreee angle, and his wrists were secured to his ankles.
Martha's wadded panties served as a gag, and were held in place with a cloth.
Denise couldn't wait to get started on him, but Martha told her to wait, that it would be a long weekend and the best thing to do would be for them to pace themselves. She made Denise work on her homework before dinner.
As the dinner hour drew near, Martha untied Mark, but left the gag in his mouth. It was painful to move his cramped muscles.
She prepared dinner, while he assisted her with the kitchen chores. Every now and then she would stop what she was doing, so she could molest him.
She cooked dinner. Denise came downstairs, still wearing her school clothes.
Mark served the dinner. Martha poured some soup into his doggie bowl for him.
The meal was eaten, the table cleared, the washing and drying done.
Martha said, "Why don't you go change into your new outfit, Denise, and then we'll get down to business."
Denise ran upstairs, and went into her room.
Martha took Mark into the living room. She turned on the TV, sat in her favorite chair, and had him kneel at her feet, which she then put up on his back.
After about fifteen minutes, Denise came back downstairs.
Mark gasped when he saw her.
Denise looked like a teenaged dominatrix. Her face was heavily made-up, and she wore a bizarre and sexy outfit.
Her hair was still in braids. Her eyebrows were darkened, as were her lashes. Eyeshadow and eyeliner made her eyes bold and alluring.
Her lips were covered with a white, waxy gloss which made her look sexy and more than slightly sinister. Her lips were curved into a malicious smile.
Around her slender neck she wore a black velvet choker.
She wore a black satin sleeveless top that fit her tightly. It had spaghetti-thin straps which ran over her shoulders, and a plunging neckline.
She wasn't wearing a bra, and the sharp nipples of her small breasts jutted against the fabric of the top.
On her hips she wore a pair of black leather bikini panties. They were cut very low, and the top of her bush could be seen over the waistband.
They were tight fitting, and molded to the curves and folds of her pelvis. Her pubic mound was outlined, and her rounded buttocks stretched the material.
She wore a pair of high-heeled black leather boots. They reached up to her knees. They had pointed toes, sharp arches, and spiked heels.
She strolled across the living room with a bold, free-swinging grace. Her long legs flashed as she moved.
"Oh, you look fantastic!" Martha got out of her chair, and embraced her child.
Their breasts rubbed together as their fronts pressed together. Martha fondled Denise's buttocks where they emerged from the low-cut panties.
They kissed. Their mouths were open, and their tongues fenced.
After a while, they broke off the kiss. Martha could hardly keep her hands off Denise, and kept fondling and caressing her.
"Don't you look beautiful!" Martha said.
"Like mother, like daughter," Denise said.
"Let's let your slave have a good look at you."
"Sounds wonderful, Mother. Mark, get your nose out of the carpet, and take a good look at your new master."
Mark, still kneeling, raised his head. His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard when he saw her dominant loveliness-so much more lovely for her youth, which contrasted with the bizarrely dominant costume.
"Well?" Denise said. "Something the matter with your voice? Cat got your tongue, or something?"
"I'm sorry. You look very beautiful, Denise."
"I know. And if you're a very, very good little slave boy, Mistress Denise just might reward you, and let you see more of her. Maybe."
Martha said, "I'll go upstairs and get changed, Denise. I'm sure that you can think of some way to keep slave Mark busy while I'm gone."
"I'm sure that I can, Mother."
Martha went upstairs, leaving Denise alone with Mark.
Denise said, "I know that you never expected to see me looking like this. You always thought of me as just the kid next door. I guess that maybe you realize just how wrong you were, huh?"
"I realize it now, Denise."
"You'll realize it even more later, when I lay my whip across your ass, slave boy."
"If that's what you want, then that's what I want, Denise."
She went to him. She cupped his chin and lifted his head so he was looking up at her. She was standing, he was on his knees.
She said, "You know, it's funny. You never would have guessed what I was really like, and how I'm into dominating men. But I never would have guessed that you would turn out to be so submissive, Mark."
"Neither would I," he said.
She ruffled his hair. "You just might turn out to be a really good slave-with lots of training and discipline first, of course."
"I'd love to be your slave, Denise."
"If you're a good little boy, then maybe your wish will come true. You can begin demonstrating your devotion by giving me boots a good cleaning. They're looking kind of dusty, and could use a good tongue polishing."
Denise sat down. Mark crawled to her on his knees. She lifted her right foot, and he took it in his hands.
He pressed his lips to the leather, and covered it with hot, wet kisses.
She said, "I want it polished, slave boy. Put that tongue to work."
Mark stuck out his tongue and licked broad, wet strokes on the leather. His face got wet as he applied saliva to the boots, making them shine.
Denise said, "You're good with your mouth, Mark. Let's see what else you can do with it."
She told him to take the pointed toe of her boot into his mouth, and suck it.
He did so. The leather was slick and hard, and filled his mouth, stretching the corners of his lips.
Denise said, "I want you to suck it just like you were a girl sucking a cock. Give it lots of tongue, and suck it like you were giving it head."
Denise chuckled softly as she watched him obey her command.
His head bobbed as he sucked the boot. His face and ears burned as he heard her giggling. He felt slavish and whorish.
Denise said, "Okay, you can stop now. Lie down on your back with your head under my feet, so you can suck my heels."
Mark assumed the position. He opened his mouth wide, and Denise put her booted heel into his mouth. The spiked heel was five inches long.
"Suck it," she urged. "Suck it like you were sucking a cock. You'll need the practice for the future, anyway."
That was how Martha found them-with Mark lying on his back, sucking her daughter's stiletto heel, his lips puckered against it.
When Martha came down the stairs and into the living room, Denise took her heel out of Mark's mouth. Mark sat up.
Martha was outfitted in a bold, bizarre costume.
Her middle was cinched in with a foundation garment, a kind of Merry Widow corset that held her in and gave her a classic hourglass figure.
The corset had red satin panels decorated with black lace floral designs. It had red satin ribbons and stitching running all over it.
The corset had half-cups for her breasts. They lifted her bosom and plumped it up, while leaving the nipples and the tops of the breasts bare.
The corset had garters attached to the bottom of it. There were four garters in all, and they were fat and frilly.
They were pinned to the dark tops of the diamond-pattern stockings sheathing her legs. The patterned stockings looked like the intricate design of scales on the back of a snake.
Martha wore a pair of red silk panties over the garters. The panties were very thin and filmy-so gauzy that her bush, thick and black, could be seen through them.
She wore a pair of black patent leather ankle boots. They had sharply pointed toes and spiked heels. They laced up the front, and the laces were tied in bows.
She carried her leather belt in one hand, and a riding crop in the other.
When Denise took her bootheel out of his mouth, Mark got on his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. He was learning what was expected of him.
Martha said, "I've got a little present for you, Denise. This riding crop is specially for you. I'm sure you'll put it to good use."
Denise hugged and kissed her mother. "Thank you so much!" She took the riding crop, and experimentally swung it through the air a few times.
It made a nasty, cutting sound as it whipped through the air. Mark involuntarily flinched with each stroke, although none touched him.
Denise had a wicked look in her eyes. "I'll give this crop a workout right now, Mother!" She started toward Mark.
Martha said, "Before we get down to serious business, Denise, we'll have to dress Mark for the occasion. After all, this is a big night for him, and he should be outfitted appropriately."
"That sounds great, Mother. But can't I redden up his bottom just a little?"
"Why not?" Martha smiled indulgently.
Denise came over to Mark. "Keep that ass of yours high in the air, slave boy. I'll start you with ten solid strokes, to warm you up."
Denise spread her feet, and gripped the crop. It had a leather loop attached to the end of the handle, and she slipped the loop over her wrist.
She slashed Mark across the bottom. He cried out. The crop hurt even worse than Martha's strap, if that was possible.
"That was only one stroke, Mark," Denise said chidingly. "Surely you . can take much more than that, you big baby."
She whipped him some more. The crop felt like a red-hot wire laid across his flesh. Mark broke out into a sweat.
He clenched his teeth and held back his cries at first, and just grunted from the impact of the crop biting into his ass.
By the fifth stroke, his self-control vanished, and he cried out loud. Denise was whipping him very, very hard.
She said, "If you're such a baby as that, maybe the best thing for us to do is to just put you in diapers and keep you there for the rest of the week."
She whipped him some more, until he had received his promised total of ten strokes in all. He was crying when it was done.
Denise fondled his cheeks, enjoying his whimpering groans. "Wow! You really got heated up! This crop really works great, Mother!"
"I hope that you'll get plenty of enjoyment out of it, dear," Martha said.
Martha came over to her daughter and the kneeling, snivelling slave boy.
Her cigarette smoldered in the ash tray. It had burnt down to a stub. Martha picked it up out of the tray.
She said, "Watch this, Denise. Here's an interesting use for a slave-as a human ash tray."
She pressed the lit end of the cigarette into his left bottom cheek, and ground it out against his flesh.
Mark shrieked. Even after the glowing red ember had been extinguished, his seared flesh ached him terribly. A blister rose on the flesh.
Martha said, "Of course, if you're wise, Denise, you won't take up smoking at all. It can be hazardous to your health."
"And even more hazardous for a slave," Denise giggled.
Martha said, "Let's take your slave to my bedroom, and get him dressed up."
Mark was ordered to his feet. His bottom hurt like blazes, and he rubbed it with both hands in a futile attempt to massage the soreness out.
Denise pinched his bottom. "Feeling warm down there, Markie? This is only the beginning for you, baby."
She and Martha got on either side of him, flanking him. They each gripped an arm. They led him across the living room and up the stairs to Martha's bedroom.
Mark wiped his tears with the backs of his hand. Martha opened the bottom drawer of her dresser, and sorted through the feminine garments.
Denise asked, "How shall we dress him, Mother?"
"In white," she answered. "Virginal whiteso fitting for the occasion, don't you think?"
Martha selected a variety of feminine garments, and laid them out on the bed.
Mark stared at them. He couldn't believe that he was going to be forced to wear them. He cringed with embarrassment of the most profound kind.
Denise said, "Shouldn't we remove his chastity belt, Mother?"
"We certainly will. Slave Mark isn't going to stay chaste for long tonight."
"May I take it off, Mother?"
"Yes, you may, dear." Martha took the key to the belt's padlock, and handed it to her daughter. Denise unlocked the tiny padlock.
She opened the waist belt of the device. She took the rear strap out from between his whipped ass cheeks, and pulled it through his crotch.
Her long, slim fingers untied the drawstrings which held the sheath fastened to his penis. She pulled his member free from the soft leather sheath.
"Look at this nasty slave boy, Mother," Denise said. "His cock is harder than ever!" Mark's red, stiff erection jutted from his hips.
Martha said, "I should hope that he's hard, with a pair of beauties like us present. I'd be insulted if he weren't hard, and would whip him until he was."
"But do you think that we should permit him to have such a thick masculine bulge, when we're putting him into such feminine garments?"
"What do you think we should do, dear?" Martha asked.
"I think we should make him stroke it off."
"That's not a bad idea, Denise. But, since Mark is so guilty of the crime of masturbation, I don't think that we should permit him to indulge. That would be rewarding him for his naughty behavior."
"Well," Denise said, her eyes gleaming, "I suppose that I could do something to make that hard-on go away-all in the interests of discipline, of course."
"Let's not rush things, Denise. He has to prove his worthiness, before we reward him by permitting him to come. No, I think that we'll dress him as he is. If he can't maintain self-control, and keep from coming until permission to do so is given to him, then he'll just have to be punished some more."
Denise agreed that this was a sensible suggestion.
She said, "Do you know what we're going to do to you next, Mark?"
"N-no, I don't, Denise." His voice was soft and mild as a child's.
Denise licked her lips. "We're going to dress you up just like a girl!"
CHAPTER EIGHT
Martha and Denise went into hysterics at the look of embarrassed confusion on Mark's face when they told him they would dress him like a girl.
When their laughter had died away, Martha said, "That isn't all of it, Mark! Not only are we going to dress you like a girl, but we're going to use you like one, too-in bed!"
She fondled his naked bottom. "Don't tell me you've forgotten what I was talking about this afternoon! Your virgin ass won't be virgin after tonight!"
"I can't wait another moment, Mother," Denise said. "Let's dress him now."
Martha picked up a garment from the bed. It was a midriff cincher. It was made out of shimmering white satin, with lace trimmings.
"You'll put this on first, Mark," she said, "for those alluring feminine curves."
Martha put the garment around his middle. It smelled faintly of perfume. His flesh tingled where the cincher touched it.
It laced up the back. Denise laced it up for him. Mark stood with his back to her, holding on to the bedpost.
Denise did everything but put her knee in his back to make the laces tight. Mark was forced to let all his breath out before she pulled the laces taut.
When she knotted the laces into a bow, his lean torso had an even thinner waist than ever. Mark was breathless, and took shallow, panting gasps.
"Next comes the garter belt," Martha said. "You'll need it to hold your pretty stockings in place."
The garter belt was white as snow. It was a filmy, lacy, whispy confection of smooth shining satin and frilly lace flounces.
Denise fastened it around his waist. His cock was hard, and she kept rubbing and fondling it as she pinned the garter belt in place.
She said, "Mother, this penis is very distracting. We should do something to make it a little less obvious!"
"I know what we can do," Martha said. "We'll tie a pretty pink ribbon on it!"
Martha took a pink satin ribbon and gave it to her daughter. Denise held his member and knotted the ribbon around the base of the shaft.
She tied the ribbon into a big, floppy bow. "I don't know if this will keep you out of trouble, but it makes you look positively adorable!"
After the ribbon was in place (and it did not make his erection get one bit softer) his legs were put into white stockings.
He sat on his whipped bottom on the bed, while Denise slipped the rolled stockings over his arched feet, and unrolled them up along his long legs.
The stockings crackled like they were filled with static electricity. They made his skin tingle with sensual feelings which threw him into confusion.
His confusion was multiplied by the teasing, tantalizing caresses that Denise tormented him with as she pulled the stockings up his legs.
She pulled them taut, so there would be no unsightly wrinkles. The stocking tops came to the middle of his smooth thighs.
She took the frilled garters of the belt, and fastened the metal tabs to the tops of the stockings, pinning them into place.
Martha said to Mark, "It's a shame that you're not my child. I'd always keep you in skirts and girl's clothes!"
"What panties should I put on him, Mother?" Denise asked.
"Why, the frilliest, laciest pair of white panties we have," Martha said.
Mark was put into panties, which were fit on over his garters-for quick and easy removal, Martha said.
The panties weren't bikini-style. They were cut full, and trimmed with plenty of lace. They had small satin ribbons and bows and frills.
Mark's stiff member bulged out the front of them. His red cock head jutted out of the panties' waistband.
"What about shoes, Mother?" Denise asked.
"I'm sure that I can find a pair that will fit him," Martha said.
She looked through the closet, rummaging around through the scores of woman's shoes which lay on the floor.
Finally, she came up with a pair of white patent leather high-heeled shoes.
"These should fit him," she said.
Mark sat on the bed, while Denise force; him into the shoes. They were a size or two too small, and they pinched his feet.
It was a struggle to get his feet in them, but Denise finally managed it. The shoes had little straps which ran across the tops of his feet, and she buckled them into place.
Denise said, "What else should we dress him in, Mother?"
"Not much more," Martha said. "We're only going to undress him later, so the less clothes we put on now, the less we'll have to remove later."
"What about make-up? I think that he would look really cute with lipstick and eyeliner, and maybe some rouge for his cheeks, too."
"I think not," Martha said. "With what we've got planned for him, that make-up would only get smeared and messy. Better to not put it on at all."
"What about a wig, then?"
"That's a good idea," Martha said. "We'll do that."
They forced Mark to sit at the velvet-cushioned bench in front of Martha's vanity. Martha selected a wig for him.
It was a platinum blonde wig, very long, with lots of tight curls. Denise pinned it in place on his head, so that blonde masses of long hair framed his fear-filled face.
"I'd say that just about does it, wouldn't you?" Denise said.
"Yes, I would," Martha said. "Now it's time for us to do it-to him."
"Great!" Denise was eager and excited. "May I whip him now, Mother?"
"Yes, you may. And, just to make it better, you can horse him over my back!"
Denise came over to Mark. "How dare you sit on that bench, when your mistress stands in front of you? Get on your knees!"
She slashed the riding crop across his shoulder. Mark cried out. He got off the bench and dropped to his knees.
"That's better," Denise said, "but not good enough. I'm going to do a real number on you, Mark. When I'm finished, you'll know you're a slave-my slave!"
She told him that she wanted him to beg for a whipping.
Mark whimpered, "Please whip me, Denise, please!"
"Very well," she said. "Since you asked for it so nicely, I'll be more than happy to oblige. First, kiss my feet."
Mark pressed his lips against the tops of her boots.
"Very good, slave Mark. Now, kiss my riding crop."
Mark carried out this command as well.
Martha piled some pillows on the floor, then got down on her hands and knees, with her nyloned knees resting on the pillows.
Denise said, "Mark, I want you to crawl over to Mother, and lay yourself face down across her back."
Mark lay across Martha at a ninety degree angle, with his cinched-in middle pressed against her corset-covered back.
The embroidered satin corset felt sensual agaisnt his bare flesh.
His knees were on the ground, and his arms hung over her sides. His bottom was presented to Denise.
Denise said, "Should I tie him, Mother?"
"It certainly couldn't hurt," Martha said. "But don't bother to gag him. I want to hear him cry."
Denise took some rope, and used it to bind Mark's wrists under her mother's thick torso to his knees. In effect, he was bound to the body of the buxom dominatrix.
Denise said, "Well, slave Mark, this is a pleasure that I hadn't really expected. That makes it that much sweeter."
She began whipping him with the crop. He discovered that it stung and cut much worse than the strap had done, because the striking area of the crop was so much more narrow and concentrated than that of the leather strap.
Mark's white panties were pulled down, so that they were rolled at the middle of his thighs. The midriff cincher plumped out his boyish buttocks, making them tempting targets for Denise's hard-hitting riding crop.
She had learned her mother's lessons well. She lacked her mother's brute force, but compensated for that by her imaginative sadism.
Mark cried out loud as he was whipped. Martha looked at him over her shoulder and grinned at his agony.
"Go ahead, scream as loud as you like," Denise said. "The only neighbors we have who are near enough to hear you are your parents, and they're away."
Mark writhed against Martha as the whip bit into him. His nipples were bare over the top of the cincher, and the tiny pink points scraped themselves erect as he rubbed against Martha's broad, strong back.
Denise whipped his ass until it was criss-crossed with angry red welts. Her upper body gleamed with sweat, and unholy excitement glittered in her eyes.
When she paused to rest her arm, Mark sobbed like a baby.
Martha said over his weeping, "You should stop now, Denise."
"Why, Mother? I'm barely getting warmed up, and so is his ass!"
"I realize that, dear. But you don't want to get blood on those feminine pretties he's wearing. And you want him to be able to be active to serve you in bed, dear. It's' our pleasure I'm thinking about, not his. Don't forget, he's just a novice, and he's not used to the kind of punishment that I dole out to my more experienced slaves."
"I suppose you're right, Mother," Denise sighed.
"Untie him from me, and we'll move on to the next phase of his training. You should find that particularly pleasurable, and so should he-not that it matters whether a slave enjoys himself or not, of course."
Denise walked around her mother, so that she faced Mark's head.
His face was tear-stained, and his eyes were red from crying.
Denise held out the riding crop. "Kiss the riding crop, and show your mistress how grateful you are that she took the time to discipline you."
Mark pressed his lips to the cool leather and kissed it. "Thank you for punishing me, Denise."
She tapped the tip of the crop against his shoulder. "That's Mistress Denise to you from now on, slave boy. And you will address my mother as Mistress Martha."
"Yes, Mistress Denise."
Denise knelt down, and untied the knots binding his wrists to his knees. As the loosened cords slipped free, she told him to climb off Martha.
Mark got on his knees. Martha rose and stretched.
Denise said, "Are you tired, Mother?"
"Not in the slightest, dear. I could horse the likes of him for hours at a time, and not work up a sweat," Martha said.
Denise touched her leather panties. She fondled her crotch through them.
"That whipping got me very excited," she said. "I'm all hot between my legs. I need some good tongue to cool me off."
She asked Mark, "Do you think that you can handle that task, slave boy? Or should I whip you some more, to teach you better obedience?"
"Please don't whip me anymore, Mistress Denise," Mark whined. "I'd be proud and honored to serve you any way you want me to."
Denise and her mother exchanged glances. Denise said, "You must have done a really good job of breaking him in, Mother. He's really taking to slavery, like a duck to water. I guess he always had a submissive streak in him that was just dying to come out."
Denise said, "Is he any good with his mouth, Mother?"
"Not bad," Martha said. "He learns quickly, once you've shown him what to do. But don't believe me, try him out for yourself."
"I'll do that," Denise said. "Before you do anything else, Mark, you'll have to take off my panties."
Mark licked his lips as he. looked up at her.
Denise laughed. "There's only one catchyou'll have to take them off using only your mouth, and not your hands."
Mark placed his head against her thighs. They were lean and smooth and warm. He nudged her panties with his chin, trying to push out a fold of material so that he could clench it with his teeth.
It was a complicated process. Denise giggled, and Martha laughed out loud.
Denise warned, "Don't you dare bite my pussy, you dog, or I'll slice your ass to ribbons, and pickle it in vinegar!"
Finally, using the ultimate care, Mark managed to get a fold of the black leather panties between his teeth.
Holding on to them, he lowered his head and slowly pulled the panties off her hips, and down her legs.
They landed in a pile at her slender ankles.
Denise said, "All right, slave boy, that's enough." She stepped out of the panties, then pulled off her sleeveless black top.
The nipples of her small breasts were pink and pointed. The curls of her pubic bush were soft and fluffy, and her pussy lips were rose colored.
Denise licked her lips. "Do you like my body, slave?"
"I love it," Mark confessed. "You're so beautiful, Mistress Denise."
"I hope you realize how foolish you've been, slave Mark," Denise said. "I used to have a heavy crush on you. If you had ever asked me to go out with you, I think that I would have done anything that you wanted me to do."
Martha laughed harshly. "Those days are over now, slave."
"You said it, Mother," Denise agreed. "You missed your chance, Mark. Now, you belong to me on my terms, the only terms I accept."
"I don't care, Mistress Denise," Mark said. "I want to serve you. Maybe it's better that things turned out this way."
"It's better for me, anyway," she said. "Whether it will be better for you will depend on how good a slave you are. If you can't please, you're going to have a very hard lifeand, even if you can please, you're still going to have a hard life-the life of a slave, my slave!"
Denise went to the bed and pulled down the blankets. Martha had covered the bed with black satin sheets.
Denise lay down on the bed. She pushed a pillow under her head. She put her hands behind her head, and spread her long, thin legs.
Her white body contrasted dramatically with the midnight black sheets. She was naked, except for her black velvet choker and her high-heeled boots.
Both boots and choker looked like bands of solid shadow on her flesh.
She said, "What are you waiting for, slave? Get on this bed, and get to work!"
Mark climbed on the bed. He felt like a different person in the feminine garments he wore. He felt free and uninhibited.
He didn't care what degrading demands Denise and Martha would make on him. He welcomed them all. He would be their faithful slave.
He knelt between Denise's legs with his head bowed. His stockings rustled against the black satin sheets.
Denise put her hand on the back of his head, and pulled his face to her crotch.
She was lightly bushed, and her pussy lips were clearly visible under the scanty covering of pubic hair. The lips were thin and soft.
Mark kissed her thighs. He pressed his lips on her labia, and planted kiss after kiss on them. His tongue slipped out from between his lips, and licked her labia.
Denise watched him carefully, riding crop in hand, ready to strike if he should do something incorrectly or ineptly.
After a few moments, she relaxed her vigilance. She sighed and abandoned herself to the pleasure that his tongue was licking into her pussy.
"I'll say one thing for you, slave boy," she murmured. "You've got a very skilled tongue for an amateur! Mother, I think that I have you to thank for that!"
Martha said, "Yes, I coached him pretty thoroughly in the fine art of mouthing a pussy this afternoon!"
Martha sat on a chair near the bed, where she could watch everything that was happening. Her legs were spread, and her hand was in her panties.
She was fondling her pussy as she watched Mark tongue her daughter.
Mark stuck his tongue inside Denise's pussy. She was very wet. Undoubtedly the whipping had stimulated her, and made her juices flow.
She tasted sweet. Her juices weren't as thick and pungently overpowering as her mother's, and tasted lighter on Mark's tongue.
Her pussy smelled fragrant. The aroma of it was delightful to his nostrils.
He licked up the slit. His tongue probed for her clitoris. He found the fleshy little button at the top of her dripping slit.
Denise sighed as he worked his tongue against it. "That's the way I like it, slave. Do it nice and slow, and don't stop."
"If he does, I'll speed him up with some straps across his ass," Martha said.
Mark licked the clitoris. It was a fleshy pearl, supremely small and delicate. It throbbed against his thrusting tongue.
Deniie breathed faster and faster. She caught Mark's wrists, and lifted his hands over her lean, hard-breathing torso.
She placed his hands on her breasts, so that his palms rubbed her nipples.
She whispered, "Squeeze my breasts gently while you eat me, slave boy."
Mark fondled and stroked her small breasts while he glided his tongue over her throbbing clitoris. Denise moved her hips to meet his mouth.
Her thigh muscles flexed and tensed. She tilted her head back, so that her neck muscles were corded. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Mark kept his tongue moving. He was careful to lick her hard, but not so hard that it would be too intense for her.
Her juices were smeared on his face. Martha got up from her chair, leather belt in hand. Her free hand was still in her panties.
She cracked him across the ass. Compared to some of the strappings she had given him, this one was mild and erotically stimulating.
Martha lightly whipped his bottom until he tongued her daughter to orgasm.
When she came, Denise lifted her legs and locked them across his back, crossing the ankles over each other.
Her thighs pressed against his head. She squeezed them tightly closed as she orgasmed. Martha continued to whip his ass.
Denise shivered and shuddered. Sighing heavily, she let her legs fall open, and pushed his wet face away from her pussy.
"Enough," she moaned. "No more for now, slave!"
Mark knelt on the bed, holding his body straight up. Denise sighed and wiggled on the black sheets, her thighs squeezed shut.
When she recovered her breath, and her composure, she opened her eyes. They were glazed and heavy-lidded.
Martha said, "How was he, darling? Did he please you, or should I give him another whipping?" She held the belt in both hands.
Denise said, "I don't care if you whip him or not, but I have to admit that he did me pretty good, especially for a beginner."
Martha patted Mark's head. "Since you're such a good student of pussy eating, I'll postpone your whipping for a while."
Denise rolled on her side, then sat up, placing her booted feet on the floor.
She said, "Why don't you put that mouth of his to work, Mother?"
"I will, Denise, but not quite yet," Martha said. "Besides, I've got other uses for our little slave right now."
"Slave Mark really gets turned on by eating pussy," Denise. "Or else it was that whipping you gave him, that made his cock get so hard!"
Mark's penis was stiff and bulging. The red rod of rigid flesh jutted out from his hips. It was surrounded by the bottom of the waist cincher, the fat and frilly garters, and the tops of the panties which had been pulled down to his thighs.
Martha took the youth's member in hand, and fondled it. "That's an interesting question. Which turns the slave on more-being whipped, or eating pussy? Over the weekend, we'll have to find out-all in the interests of science, of course."
Martha gave his cock a little squeeze. A single pearly drop of semen oozed from the red head of his cock.
"This slave is almost too hot to handle," Martha said.
Denise said, "Now that we've seen how well he can use his cock, let's find out how he does with other parts of his anatomy. How good is he with that cock?" Martha said, "You'll have to postpone finding that out for a while, miss. Before this slave is granted the ultimate privilege of being raped by our pussies, we're going to rape his ass first!"
Mark moaned with fear.
Martha smiled evilly. "You shouldn't be surprised, slave boy. I told you that I'd have to fuck you in your ass before I'd take your penis in my pussy."
Denise said eagerly, "May I take him first, Mother?"
"I'm sorry, darling, but I reserve the right to take his cherry."
Denise stamped her booted foot. "That's not fair, Mother! He's supposed to be my slave, and I should take him first!"
"Don't whine, Denise. A mistress should never whine." She patted Denise's cheek. "Mark is a virgin slave, and you haven't dildoed very many slaves. And those you have done it to weren't virgins-they were already well stretched out, and knew exactly what to expect. Besides, dear, I am your mother, and you should respect your elders."
"Oh, all right, Mother," Denise sighed. "I guess you're right."
"You know I am, darling. It will be better for you and the slave if I break him in for you." Martha added, "I won't mind doing it a bit, either."
Denise said, "You're going to tie him now, aren't you?"
"Yes, I think that would be a wise course to follow."
Denise went to black box. She got some ropes, and a pair of handcuffs.
Mark put his hands behind his back. Denise clicked the cold metal bracelets into place on his wrists.
He knelt on the bed, facing the front of it. Denise had him spread his legs. Then she slipped rope loops around his stockinged ankles.
She tied the roped to the legs of the bed. Lastly, she put a pillow under his middle, keeping his bottom raised up.
Martha said, "Will you be a dear, Denise, and get me my dildo?"
"Sure, Mother. Which one are you going to use?"
"Since he's a virgin, and tight in his ass, I'll use the smallest dildo. Please give me the pink one," Martha requested.
Denise rummaged through the box, found the pink dildo. Martha added, "And don't forget the lubricant either, honey."
Denise brought both dildo and lubricant to her mother. Martha started to take off her panties.
Denise said, "I'll take them down for you, Mother."
She pulled down the panties, caressing her mother's fleshy hips and plump thighs as she did so. When she pulled the panties down to her ankles, Denise kissed Martha's left buttock, her right buttock, and then kissed her between the cheeks.
"Stop that, you naughty girl," Martha murmured. "You'll get me so excited that I won't be able to initiate Mark."
Martha stepped out of her panties. The dildo was about six inches long, and was the smallest dildo that she owned.
It was streamlined, and had a blunt, bullet-shaped head. Thin leather straps were attached to tiny holes at the base of the shaft.
Martha fastened the straps into place on her hips. The thin cords pressed deeply against her soft, yielding flesh.
CHAPTER NINE
Martha strutted over to the bedside. Her high-heeled ankle boots caused her heavy hips to roll and jiggle, and her bottom to shake.
The dildo bobbed obscenely from her hips. It looked fantastically bizarre, that artificial, flesh-colored cock jutting out from her womanly hips.
She patted Mark's bottom. It was still hot from the whippings she and Denise had given him. His thighs quivered and trembled.
Martha said, "Now I'm going to show you how a woman can fuck a slave boy just as though he was a little slave girl!"
Mark whimpered, "May I-may I say something, Mistress Martha?"
"I suppose so, slave boy, but keep it brief."
Mark whined, "I really want to serve you and Denise, but I'm very afraid of this, Mistress Martha!"
"It's only natural to fear the unknown, slave boy."
"Do you have to do it to me? I mean, couldn't I do it some other time?"
"No way, baby," Martha laughed. "I've been looking forward all day to getting my hands on your virgin ass-and my dildo inside it!"
"But I'm afraid that it will hurt me inside!"
"Don't be so childish, slave boy! Don't you think that every virgin girl is afraid of what her first time getting fucked will be like? And yet that's never stopped any man or boy from doing it. Why should I show you any consideration that you wouldn't show to a girl, if the situation was reversed, and you wanted to fuck a virgin?"
"Don't listen to him, Mother," Denise scowled. "He really wants it, the little slut! He just can't bring himself to admit that he wants to get fucked in his ass! And even if he doesn't want it-who cares what a slave wants, anyway?"
"My philosophy exactly, dear," Martha said. "Now, I don't want to hear anymore protests from you, slave boy, or you'll not only get fucked in the ass, which is going to happen in any case, but you'll also be very severely punished."
"I'm sorry, Mistress Martha," Mark whined. "It's just that I'm so afraid!"
"In a few moments, you'll see how silly your fears are, slave boy!"
Martha gripped the base of the dildo shaft. "Before we get started, it will put you in a nicely submissive frame of mind if you suck this cock first!"
Mark turned his head so that he faced her. Martha's hips were on a level with his head. The dildo was only inches from his mouth.
Mark nervously licked his lips.
Martha said, "You've already shown us how you eat pussy-now you can show us how well you eat cock!"
"I bet he does it real good, too," Denise smirked.
Mark shuddered. The curls of his long blonde wig were tossed around his face and shoulders. Martha put her hand on the back of his head.
She pulled him to her. "Take this in your mouth and suck it, you little slut!"
Mark opened his mouth wide. Martha fed the dildo inside it.
The dildo filled his mouth. He puckered his lips, and pressed them against the rubber shaft. The dildo tasted cool and slick.
Martha said, "Go ahead, suck it."
Mark whipped his tongue against the cock head. Remembering how Martha had sucked him off the night before, he tried to imitate what she had done.
Since his hands were cuffed behind his back, he was unable to use his hands. Martha held the dildo, guiding it in his mouth.
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked the artificial member. He slurped wetly at it. Martha held his head in place.
His face blushed bright red. His curly wig tossed strands of hair on his face as his head rocked back and forth.
Denise said, "Look how well he does it, Mother! He's a natural-born cocksucker if I ever saw one!"
"Yes," Martha agreed. "Pity that this isn't a real penis, and not just a dildo!"
"You can fix that, Mother. Just have one of your male slaves come over, and force Mark to suck him off!"
Martha chuckled. "That would be amusing, wouldn't it? I think after I've broken him in sufficiently, I'll do just that!"
Mark's ears burned as he heard their discussion. He hoped and prayed that Martha and Denise were only teasing him.
Still, he couldn't be sure that they wouldn't make good on their threats. They weren't the type of persons who would say something like that if they didn't mean it.
He tried to imagine what it would be like, to have a hot, hard penis in his mouth, instead of a cool, artificial dildo. He was frightened by his own thoughts, and his own confused desires.
Martha said, "This is just too priceless, Denise. I've got to have a permanent record of this picture!"
"Should I get the camera, Mother?"
"Please do. That way, we'll have all this recorded forever."
Denise exited the room. Martha said to Mark, "Just because Denise stepped out for a minute, doesn't mean that you have permission to stop. Keep sucking!"
Denise returned with a camera and flash attachment. It was one of those cameras which develops a picture in seconds.
Denise moved into position near the bed. Looking through the viewfinder, she framed the picture so it would show Mark taking the dildo into his mouth.
There was a flash of white light as the flashbulb detonated.
The picture came out perfectly. Denise took a few more of them.
Martha said, "I think we have enough for that particular set. My friends should find these photos most amusing."
"Just think what Mark's school friends would think, if they ever saw them!"
Martha said, "There's something for you to remember, Mark. If you ever disobey us, Denise will circulate these pictures all over the high school!"
Martha took the dildo out of his mouth. It dripped with saliva.
Mark said, "Mistress Martha, please don't show those pictures to anybody else! Please, please, I beg you!"
"You be a good little slave boy, and I won't show them to your friends," Denise said. "But if you're not obedient, I'll fix it so that you'll never dare to show your face in school again!"
"I'll do what you want me to do," Mark pouted. "I guess you know that I'm your slave. I'll follow your every command."
"Hmmmmm," Denise said, "we'll see if you really mean what you say, or if you're just giving us Up service!"
"He's given us plenty of lip service already," Martha joked. "We know that his mouth belongs to us. Now we'll find out about his ass!"
She told her daughter, "I hope you've got plenty of film in that camera, Denise, because you're going to get some mighty hot footage!"
"Don't worry, Mother. There's lots of photos left in the camera," Denise said. "I just wish that I was getting more of the action myself!"
"You will, dear, you will. Just be patient. You can help me by greasing up Mark's bottom."
Denise got a tube of anal lubricant. She squeezed some of the jelly into her palms. The jelly was white as marble, and oily.
She parted Mark's buttocks. "You better loosen up, Mark. You're going to be really hurting if you hold yourself that tightly."
She exposed the crack of his ass, and poked his anus. Mark whimpered.
Denise said, "You're right, Mother, he is a virgin in his ass."
"That's a rare find nowadays," Martha said, "the way these kids are. They grow up so fast, they've done it all by the time they're twenty!"
"Not Mark. He's always been a straight arrow-a real square."
"He was until he met us, you mean," Martha laughed.
Mark hung his head in shame ... and excitement.
Denise greased up the crack of his ass with the lubricant.
Mark felt incredibly degraded by having this young girl handle him so familiarly, and so dominantly, as though he was her little toy.
She smeared an excess of lubricant on and around Mark's puckered anus. His hole was very tiny, and very tight.
"You are yummy, Mark," she said. "I can't wait to get my hands on you!"
"You'll just have to wait your turn, dear," Martha said.
Denise said, "I'm almost done, Mother. I just have to grease him up inside."
"As long as you're doing that," Martha said, "you might as well stretch him out, too. It will save me the trouble."
Denise stuffed the lubricant into his anus. He groaned with shame. She held two of her fingers together, and pushed them inside him.
He grunted as he was penetrated.
Denise used her slim fingers to stretch his sphincter ring. Mark writhed with pain and humiliation at the way she handled him.
Finally, she took her fingers out of him. She wiped the lubricant off her hands and on his buttocks. The grease shone on them.
"He's all ready, Mother," she said. "Ready for you, now."
"Be a love, and grease up the dildo, too," Martha said.
Denise took some more lubricant, and smeared it on the dildo. She layered plenty of the stuff on the bullet head of the artificial cock.
When she was done, the dildo glistened with an oily, transparent covering.
She said, "Before you do anything, Mother, let me wipe my hands clean, and get the camera ready."
Denise used a double handful of tissues to wipe off the lubricant. When her hands were clean, she picked up the camera.
"I'm ready anytime that you are, Mother."
Martha climbed onto the mattress. She knelt behind Mark. Her stockinged knees pressed into the black satin sheeted mattress.
Mark made little, fearful whimpering sounds.
Martha caressed his quivering thighs. "Don't be so tense, baby. This isn't the end of the world, In fact, it's the beginning of a new world for you-a world where women reign supreme, and men-and boys-are their slaves."
Martha caressed his thighs, and fondled his bottom. "Now, just relax. If you hold yourself tight, you'll only make it painful for yourself, and you won't be able to stop me from fucking you anyway. So, just relax."
"I'll try, Mistress Martha," he whined.
"Now, let's get to that virgin ass," Martha said.
She parted his buttocks, exposing his crack. "You did a good job of greasing him up, Denise."
"Thank you, Mother," Denise said.
Gripping the dildo shaft, Martha pressed the tip of the head against the youth's puckered anus. It shrank in on itself.
"Just relax, Mark," she repeated. "You'll love being fucked this way, after the first time. Don't hold yourself so tightly."
Mark concentrated on loosening his sphincter muscles. His fear made the task difficult, but he did the best he could.
Martha leaned into the youth.
The bullet-shaped dildo head pushed open his tiny anal opening. Mark's face creased with pain, and he groaned loudly.
Denise moved around the bed, taking pictures. The flashbulbs went off like lightning in an electrical storm.
Martha kept on pushing. She did it very slowly, so as not to damage Mark in this most sensitive of regions.
Mark felt like he was being split apart. He cried out loudly as the dildo head forced its way past his tight-gripping sphincter ring.
Now the dildo head was securely and tightly lodged in his anus.
He begged, "Please, Mistress Martha, let me rest, just for a minute!"
"Don't tell me that you don't love this," Martha said. "If you didn't, your cock wouldn't have gotten as hard as it is now!"
It was true. Mark realized to his shock that his penis had stiffened and thickened into a raging erection.
His quivering cock rubbed against his flat belly, and his lacy garter belt.
The flashbulb went off as Denise snapped another photo.
Martha gripped the boy's slender hips. She leaned forward, pushing the dildo into him slowly, feeding it in by fractions of inches at a time.
His mouth was open and moaning. Sweat dripped from his body to the satin sheets.
The dildo was inside his rectum now. Martha shoved into him, until he was fully penetrated. The base of the dildo's shaft pressed against his anal ring.
Mark was sobbing like a little girl.
Denise was all hot-eyed and excited. "How is he, Mother?!"
"Hot and tight," Martha said. "Make sure you get some pictures of me fucking him now, dear!"
Martha gripped Mark's hips, and began to move back and forth.
She moved slowly, taking her time. When she pulled back on the withdrawal stroke of the cycle, only the dildo head was lodged in his anus.
Then she would push forward, sliding the member into him, burying it deep in his rectum, while he gasped and moaned.
Mark's wailing cries were counterpointed by the sound of the camera shutter clicking, and the flashbulbs going off.
After a while, it didn't hurt him so agonizingly. But he continued to weep from shame and humiliation.
What a helpless puppet he was in the hands of this dominant bitch, and her equally sadistic teenaged daughter!
They knew exactly how to pull his strings, and make him do what they wanted.
The worst part of all was that they were right. They had judged his character perfectly. He was a natural submissive, born to be a slave.
He knew that he " would accept any degradation they condescended to inflict on him.
As the pictures were instantly developed, Denise took them out of the camera, and laid them down on the top of the bureau.
Soon there was a nice stack of the glossy photos of his defloration.
As Martha fucked him in the ass, she gripped his member, which jutted out from his hips like a red-hot handle of flesh.
Denise put down the camera. "That's all there is, Mother. We're all out of film. But we've got plenty of triple-X rated photos!"
"Come on the bed and join us," Martha said. "Put that mouth of his to work on your pussy, honey."
Denise climbed on the bed. She knelt down in front of Mark, so that her ass was poised only inches away from his sweating, groaning face.
Her long legs were folded beneath her. She gripped the brass rails of the headboard. Her bottom was white and dimpled and heart-shaped.
She looked over her shoulder at her mother fucking Mark in the ass.
Denise said, "My pussy's been nicely tongued tonight. Now I want my ass licked, especially the inside of it!"
She put her hands on her buttocks, and spread them wide apart.
Martha squeezed Mark's cock. "Get your mouth on my daughter's asshole, slave boy! You'd better clean her out with your tongue!"
Mark lifted his head, cording his neck muscles. He pressed his straining face between the cheeks of Denise's ass.
He licked up along her crack. Denise shivered. He could see her lightly haired pussy lips beneath the shining moons of her bottom cheeks.
He circled her brown puckered anus with his tongue, then slipped it inside her.
He tongued her anus while Martha fucked his ass. Denise was all hot and sticky and creamy inside. He shoved his tongue past her tight sphincter.
While he licked her asshole, Denise fingered her pussy. Her hand was a blur of motion as she massaged her throbbing clitoris.
Martha's skilled hand stroked his reddened shaft. Mark got hotter and hotter, until he couldn't hold back anymore.
He cried out loud as he came.
Semen jetted from his cock head, spilling on the black satin sheets, dribbling on his sweat-saturated white stockings.
Martha squeezed his cock. "Don't fight it, baby. You won't be punished for coming. So you just let go, slave boy."
"God!" Mark cried. "God, it's so intense, Mistress Martha!"
His head lowered. Denise reached back, grabbed his wig, and jerked his head up.
She said, "Just because you're coming, doesn't mean that you have permission to stop tonguing my ass, you little sluttish slave boy!"
"I'm sorry!" Mark managed to blurt out, before his face disappeared between her bottom cheeks. He thrust his tongue into her anus.
Denise rubbed and stroked herself more frantically than ever.
In less than a moment, she brought herself to orgasm.
She let go of Mark and gripped the brass rails. She clutched them so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She moaned and shivered.
Mark's head dropped, and his face pressed against the satin sheets.
The dildo was still inside him. Martha put her hands on his whipped bottom, and spread his cheeks as wide as she could.
She eased out of him very slowly and carefully, making sure that she wouldn't damage his sensitive membranes. Mark gasped as the dildo was removed. His anus seemed to pucker and cling to the dildo head.
The dildo popped out of him. His anus was slightly split, and there were faint streaks of blood on the dildo shaft.
His legs were weak and trembling. He collapsed on the bed after the dildo was taken out of him. He was laughing and crying at the same time.
Martha patted his bottom. "You're not a virgin anymore, slave boy."
He had learned his lessons well. Between sobs, he managed to thank her for taking the time and trouble to bother with a lowly slave like him.
She used a tiny key to unlock his handcuffs, and remove them. She said, "Go ahead, Denise, he's all yours now."
Denise said, "What I'd really like to do is fuck you in the ass. But that might be too soon after your first time, so I'll let you rest, slave boy."
Denise put her hands on his shoulders, and turned him over so that he lay on his back.
Martha said, "You've proved that you can be a good, obedient little slave boy, Mark. Denise, I think he should be given a reward."
"I think that you're right, Mother. After all, even slaves should have some pleasureespecially after they've given up their virginity to their mistresses."
Denise climbed on the bed. She gripped his member. "I'm glad that you're still hard, slave boy, 'cause I'm very horny!"
She rubbed his cock head against her pussy lips. His semen made her labia glisten. Holding his cock upright, she lowered herself on his member, taking it into her hot, tight, dripping slit.
He said, "Oh, Mistress Denise, I'm so glad that I'm your slave! I want to stay your slave forever!"
Denise said, "I can't make you any promises about that, slave boy. That will all depend on how well you can please me."
She began to rock back and forth on his cock, rubbing the hot velvet of her pussy membranes against his heated cock.
She said, "Yes, that will depend on how well you can please me-and my mother!" She played with his nipples, pinching them erect.
"And don't forget your sister, Chris," Martha reminded her. "I know that she'll just love to get her hands on this slave!"
Martha took the dildo off, and put it aside. She said, "I can use some stimulation myself, as a matter-of-fact!"
She climbed on the bed, straddling Mark's upturned face.
The shadow of her hips fell on him. Her pussy lips were fleshy, and surrounded by thick, curly hair. Her thighs were plump and smooth and polished.
She sat so that she was facing her daughter. She lowered herself on Mark's face.
His mouth pressed against soft pussy lips. He kissed them, and thrust his tongue inside, tasting the hot, thick juices.
Denise rode his cock like a horsewoman riding a galloping steed.
She fucked his cock, while her mother raped his mouth with her pussy.
Mark lay there, doing his best to please. His buttocks lifted off the stained satin sheets as he thrust his cock into Denise's tight pussy.
His lips and tongue licked hot pleasure into Martha's juicy slit.
He realized that slavery was his destiny.
There was nothing he wouldn't do to please this dominant mother and daughter who had taken control of his life.
EPILOGUE
Mark spent seven days as a guest-or prisoner-of Martha and Denise. By the end of that time, he was well on the way toward total slavery.
In one short week, his life and his head had been turned inside-out.
He had been kept in sexy girl's lingerie. He was on constant call to satisfy the sexual urges of Martha and Denise.
Often he was forced to satisfy the both of them at the same time.
They were not content to have him serve for their pleasure. They amused themselves by giving him steady doses of pain as well.
His submissive nature asserted itself, and he learned to love the strap and the paddle and the hair brush.
If it made his mistresses happy to whip his bottom, then who was he, a lowly slave, to complain? He was happy that they even took the time to bother 'with him.
By the time that the week was over, and his parents had returned from their vacation, Mark was sorry to have to leave Martha's house.
Martha and Denise assured him that his slavery wouldn't end just because he was living at home. They expected him to serve them during every moment of his free time.
Mark got a big surprise on the afternoon of the first school day after his mother and father had returned home.
He assumed that he would be going to Martha's house after school, to slavishly serve Denise and her dominant mother.
But Denise told him that he would have to go straight home after classes were over, and that he wouldn't be serving them today.
She wouldn't explain why, and only smiled mysteriously when he questioned her.
He was glum and disappointed. He had anticipated baring his body for his pain and their pleasure.
Ever the faithful and obedient slave, he obeyed Denise's command that he go right home after school, with no dawdling on the way.
He entered his house. He didn't see his mother, Barbara. He tossed down his school books and shouted, "Mom, I'm home!"
Barbara called, "I'm in my room, Mark. Come in here, now!"
He hurried into his mother's bedroom, and gasped when he saw her.
His mother wore only a black bra and black panties. She sat on the bed with her long legs crossed. A leather strap lay near her.
Barbara was in her early forties. She was a fit, tanned woman with ash blonde hair, high firm breasts, and long legs.
Mark stammered, "Mom-why, why are you dressed like that?!"
Barbara rose and came to him. Her breasts and her bottom jiggled.
She said coolly, "I know all about what Martha and Denise did you to you, Mark. They did it with my approval and permission. I arranged it all."
"You did?!" he gasped. "Mom, I don't understand!"
Barbara said, "Martha's been teaching me how to be a dominant woman. From now on, I am the supreme and unquestioned authority in this family."
She explained to her stunned son that she had gone off with his father on the vacation for the purpose of totally enslaving him.
She had succeeded, of course. Now, she would put her son under her thumb.
"I've been waiting to do this for a long time, Mark," she said grimly. "Take off your pants, and bare your bottom. You're going to get the spanking of your life!"
Mark dropped to his knees, and kissed his mother's bare feet.
She said, "I'm happy to see that Martha and that lovely Denise have trained you so well. It will help you adjust to the new regime."
She opened Mark's pants, and pulled them and his shorts down to his knees.
She sat down on the bed. Without a word of protest, Mark climbed on her warm lap, and stretched face down across her knees.
Barbara said, "Don't expect any mercy from me, young man. You've had this coming to you for a long, long time!"
