tonguester
08-28-2007, 3:59 PM
My First Mild Whipping
The following story is partly true, but I have embellished it somewhat to make it interesting.
I remember that hot sunny afternoon as though it was yesterday. It was the summer of 1974. I was eighteen and living at home. My dad left my mum when I was sixteen, so with two younger sisters, I was the only male in the family. My mum seemed perfectly happy and had an active social life.
I was no innocent at that age. By eighteen, I had had sex many times, mostly with my most recent girl friend Sue with whom I was totally in love, but she dumped me shortly before my eighteenth birthday and I was heartbroken. Because I was in the process of healing, I was not interested in having any other relationships and became a bit of social recluse.
However, my sexual urges continued unabated and I seem to remember being in a permanently horny state at that age. I masturbated every day. Sometimes three, four times a day. I could scarcely keep my hands off my dick. Naturally, there had to be an outlet for all of this sexual energy and sadly, for me, it was pornography. Not just any old porn, but anything to do with female domination or’ femdom’ as the genre is commonly known. You may well ask; how can one so young become interested in a fetish such as this? Well, I honestly think it was inside my head all the time, but the desire was definitely inflamed by my first visit to a porn shop with some mates while walking home from a football match in Birmingham one day. Among the magazine racks in that shop was a veritable cornucopia of all tastes and fetishes, and most of them were mildly disturbing. Yet my eyes were drawn like magnets to the covers of magazines that had titles like “mistress of the whip” or “Bitch Goddesses” or “Corporal quarterly”. The front covers depicted women in raunchy lingerie standing over males who were usually naked and in bondage.
I didn’t purchase any of the mags while with my football friends, but snuck into the shop a week or so later with my pockets full of my week’s wages and bought up large. I remember the surge of adrenalin as I rode my bike at full speed back home so I could drool over the pictures of the first three mags I had bought.
Now back to the summer of 1974.
During those days, my mum’s friend Barbara used to come and visit. She lived nearby and sometimes used to baby sit myself and my two sisters while my mother went out. As I grew older, it was me who had to baby sit my two sisters while Barbara and my mother went out in the evenings.
We were so used to Barbara being around, we kids used to think of her as part of the family. Indeed, the girls and I used to call her auntie Barbara. Of course, by the time I had reached eighteen, there was no need to call her auntie any more. She insisted on me calling her Barbara.
I noticed her attitude to me had changed. She used to look at me differently. She used to smirk and wink at me a lot. Sometimes, she would touch my hair or squeeze my face with one hand, or pat my bottom. I was too daft and emotionally immature to know why she did this. I just assumed she was being friendly and affectionate. However, in response to her, my attitude towards her also changed. I felt a little uncomfortable around her. Sometimes her grinning and pats on the bottom were just plain embarrassing. I could never fathom what the hell she found so amusing about me!
Then there was that hot summer day. I think it was a Saturday afternoon. The girls were out with their friends and I was at home in the back garden with mum relaxing in the sun on sun loungers. I was reading an Alex Higgins novel as I recall. Strange the things you remember.
Then Barbara came visiting. As soon as she arrived, I had to give up my sun lounger and was told to go and make a cup of tea for both of them. Bloody cheek! Why should I have to surrender my comfy spot and my peaceful reverie? But in those days, boys respected their mothers and I obeyed albeit with a snort of protest.
As I got up to do my chore as requested, Barbara asked me to unzip the back of her dress. I assumed she wanted to sunbathe and expected her to be wearing a swimming costume. However, to my astonishment, she let the dress fall to the ground and was standing there in her underwear! My mother had already set this precedent by regularly sunbathing in underwear in our back garden, which was very private and secure. But to see Barbara just brazenly parade herself like that came as a bit of a shock. She was a good looking woman of thirty two with dyed blond short hair, as was the fashion back then. She had a voluptuous figure and her soft, pale flesh bulged beautifully in all the right places. She had a good size pair of breasts and her hips were wide and beautifully splayed from a narrow waist. Her thighs were thick, long and strong and her calves were muscular and firm.
She could not fail to have noticed my jaw drop and then my absolute discomfort at being so close to this Goddess of a woman. One could have said her underwear was like a bikini, but I am sure it was not a bikini. It was a brown, satin-like material – a matching bra and pants set. Her huge tits formed a beautiful cleavage that seemed marvellously deep and alluring. I sincerely thought I would be able to control my eyes and avoid ogling at her.
I was wrong!
As I looked at her magnificent form I was drawn to the beautiful shape of her pussy and the thick hair sprouting from the sides of her panties. In those days, women did not spend so much time as they do today removing bikini lines. For some reason women assume this is ugly to males. How wrong they are! In those brief seconds my eyes scanned her sexy body and my legs went weak and my heart started pounding like a jack hammer in my chest. I was glad to get away to the kitchen to compose myself. As I was scurrying to the safety of the kitchen, Barbara called out to me: “No sugar!” She was giving me that knowing look and smirking again.
“Oh God!” I thought. “Can she be reading my thoughts? Did she see my hard-on? She’s my mum’s friend, for God‘s sake!”
During the ten minutes it took to boil the kettle and to make three cups of tea, I had composed myself and considered that I was under control. As I carried the tray containing three cups and a plate of biscuits outside, I put on a pair of sunglasses, just in case. I was confident I would be able to avert my gaze from the lovely Barbara and keep my dick from growing hard.
I was wrong!
I served mum her cup of tea first and let her select a biscuit. So far so good.
Then I served Barbara her tea and biscuits. True to form, Barbara teased me by taking her time to select her biscuit. She looked at me and winked and I think the tray started to tremble at that point, for my eyes were wandering and taking in the loveliness of her sun tan lotion covered, glistening body. Her nipples were huge! The bra was not covering the prominent shape of them very well. They seemed to me to be as big as organ stops, bulging through the thin material of her bra. Her belly was soft and glistening and her thighs were spread just a little to allow the full shape of her pussy to be fully appreciated.
My cock was stiffening rapidly while Barbara dawdled some more over her confounded biscuit selection. Having selected her biscuit, I grabbed the remaining mug of tea from the tray and turned quickly so as to avoid the possibility of exposing the huge bulge inside my jeans. As I turned, a drop of tea slopped onto Barbara’s arm.
“Ouch!” she shrieked.
My mother looked over and snarled “Be careful you stupid boy!”
“Oh Barbara, I’m really sorry, are you alright?” I pleaded.
I grabbed my loose T-shirt off the grass and swatted away any remaining trace of liquid from her shoulder where it had landed.
“It’s alright, I’ll live!” she looked at her shoulder and then up at me with a sidelong glance and smirked at me again. I studied her shoulder to make sure I hadn’t scolded her and was relieved to see it looked blemish free, thank God! I was also thinking I’d inadvertently avoided an embarrassing incident.
I was wrong!
As I looked at her, she was staring at my crotch while sipping her tea. My hard was still there as plain as can be, practically crawling out of the top of my tight jeans. I turned to walk away, but she suddenly grabbed me by the belt of my jeans and pulled me towards her.
“What have we here?” she cooed. The tips of her fingers went inside my jeans and scratched the tip of my dick, making me flinch. I tried to back away, but in one movement, she’d put her mug of tea on the grass, had swung her legs toward me and had grabbed my belt with both hands.
“What have you got inside there, huh? You look very happy to see me!”
Then she started unbuckling my belt!
The fact that my mother was only a metre or so away from the two of us made this an excruciatingly embarrassing moment. I would have thought my mother would have been duly affronted by Barbara’s behaviour and would have said or done something to protect me.
I was wrong!
My mother lowered her sun glasses and looked at what Barbara was doing and just smiled! Then carried on reading!
“Please Barbara, no!” I pleaded. But it was too late. With amazingly expert hands, she had completely undone my belt and zipper and had my cock in her hands.
“Well, well! What have we here? Davey’s got a hard on. And very nice it is too. Well you grew up to be a big boy didn’t you?”
I was thinking lots of things at that moment. Things like: “Have I washed my dick lately?” or “Please Mum, don’t look!” But it was all too late for that. Barbara was gently caressing and wanking me, and worse still, mother was now watching!
Barbara turned around and said to mother: “Look what a big boy he has become? You must have used this to lift him out of his bath when he was a baby!” and both women laughed.
Then, Barbara just simply let go of my dick and waved me away. “Go on!” she said. “Go and have a wank over your disgusting magazines.”
With that, she picked up my book and started reading the inside cover. “Is this any good?” she asked, as though nothing unusual had just happened.
I didn’t bother to answer. I just quickly buckled myself back up and ran to the safety of the house.
I ran up to my room and leapt onto my bed and buried my face in the pillow groaning out loud. What the hell just happened? She just grabbed my dick in front of my mother and she knows about my porn mags! How the hell did she know about those?
The porn mags!
I quickly leapt of the bed and lifted the mattress. They were gone! My entire collection of porn had been taken. Who could have taken them? It could only have been my mother. Damn! Why, oh why didn’t I hide them in a more discreet and secure place. Mum would almost certainly have found them simply by changing the sheets, which I was too lazy to do myself.
A wave of deep shame and embarrassment washed over me. I felt like crying. My cover was blown. Mother and Barbara would see me as a sick pervert. I held my head in my hands and contemplated this embarrassing situation for a while. Then I put a record on the stereo to try and blot out my feelings, which I was in the habit of doing back then. I sat on the floor and let the cheery music of Mott The Hoople intrude into my mind. It helped.
Presently, there was a knock on the door. I turned the music off and Barbara entered the room closely followed by my mother. Neither had bothered to dress and were standing in front of me in their underwear. A feeling of dread assailed me as I saw the pile of porn mags in mum’s arms. She threw them onto the bed.
“It’s pretty obvious what your sexual preferences are.” said Barbara.
“Where did you get this stuff?” asked mother.
“I was given it.” I lied. Somehow, confessing to actually spending money on these mags seemed like an abomination.
Mum said: “Help me to understand what it is you see in this stuff. Do you like to be dominated? Did Sue used to dominate you?”
“No, I, I dunno. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yes, you will damn well talk about it and you’d better start talking now!”
She picked up one of my favourite mags and opened up the centre spread which showed three women dressed in incredibly raunchy underwear but with no panties on, standing over a naked male slave. They were all flogging him with various whips and paddles and the man seemed to be in pain.
“I this what you fantasise about?” demanded mother.
Despite myself I could feel my cock stirring and I looked up at Barbara. She was smirking knowingly. I put my arm over my lap to hide the growing bulge.
Mother held the page in front of me. “Answer me my lad. Tell me what you like about this picture.”
My face must have turned deep crimson.
“Come on, we want to know what you like about this picture,” chided Barbara.
“I-I’m sorry, this is too embarrassing!” I exclaimed and tried to get up. But Barbara placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed me down back onto by backside.
“It’s what comes next isn’t it? This is what you like?” she flicked over the page and the scene showed the slave on his knees with his face buried in the crotch of a dominatrix seated on a couch while the other two women whipped his backside. A close up picture showed his tongue licking the clitoris of the seated dominatrix while his face showed an expression of pain. It was one of my favourite shots.
“Christ, mum, what do you want me to say?” I blurted. “Of course I like that picture! Who wouldn’t?”
“Well, it’s disgusting! Any you’re a disgusting little pervert!” said mother, but without the vitriol one would normally expect.
“What should we do with him Barbara?” said mother.
“I think we should give him a taste of his own medicine as punishment,” said Barbara.
“Take off your belt!” demanded mother. “We may not have whips and paddles, but we can certainly use your belt instead. Come on! Chop, chop!”
With my heart fluttering in dread, I did as I was told.
“You might as well take you jeans and pants off” suggested Barbara.
“No, this is not right!” I protested.
“And I suppose masturbating over fetish porn is perfectly alright is it?” said mother scornfully. “Do as your auntie Barbara says, take you jeans and pants off, now!”
It had been many years since mother had referred to Barbara as ‘auntie’. It seemed strange to call her that now.
I reluctantly stood up and did as I was told. By this time my cock was half hard, with my mind in no man’s land, somewhere between fear, shame and utter lust. I started trembling.
“Now get on your hands and knees and face your auntie Barbara.”
I did as was told and my head was at the same level as Barbara’s pussy. Barbara tenderly stroked my hair, which seemed a strange thing to do to a boy who was about to be punished.
I felt really weird and vulnerable. But the sight of Barbara standing over me with that knowing smirk on her face belied the seriousness of the situation. It was almost like my fantasy was being played out for me. The closeness of Barbara’s sex was completely distracting and her fingertips in my hair was having an electrifying effect. My keen sense of smell could smell the sweaty muskiness of her.
“How many strokes would you like?” asked mum. This seemed a strange question to ask. “I-I don’t know. “ I said pathetically.
“”Let’s try one for size.”
Mother let the full length of the belt lash my backside, and it hurt a lot more than I expected.
“Ouch!” I shrieked. “That hurt!” I protested in a girlish voice.
“Well, that’s what you want isn’t it? Pain?”
“No mum, you don’t understand.” I said. “I like the cruelty, but not the pain. I don’t like pain at all.”
“Tough shit my lad!” shouted mum and with that, let go another stinging blow to my backside.
“We want to punish you,” purred Barbara and she was now smiling and pulling my face closer to her. She then put one foot up onto my bed so that her gorgeous, fleshy thigh was presented to me at the exact level of my head. “Kiss my thighs here.”
She indicated where she wanted me to kiss along the inside of her thigh.
I couldn’t believe this was happening!
My head was spinning with lust and my cock was as hard as a rock. I had to admit, this was starting to look interesting!
I gently kissed up all along Barbara’s thigh, daring to get closer and closer to her lovely crotch. I took the liberty of ducking lower so that my upturned face was almost under her in order to get an eyeful of her loveliness. She looked magnificent with her hands on her hips, her large breasts straining against the flimsy bra. At close range, I could see the shape of her bush beneath the this material of her panties and the slight bulge of her labia between her legs. I could also smell her sex now, and the effect was intoxicating. I thought I was going to faint.
My lust got the better of me and I pressed my face into Barbara’s crotch to a sudden and unexpected howl of protest from both women.
“How dare you!” roared mother.
“You were not told to do that, you naughty boy!” said Barbara. “Whip him Wendy, teach him a lesson!”
Mum became frenzied and aggressive with the belt and lashed at my backside and back continuously for a minute or so. How many lashes I got, I don’t know, but I was howling in protest and begging her to stop.
Barbara stood in front of me a pulled my head into her crotch to muffle my protests. I looked up and said “Please make her stop!”
But Barbara had a look of shear evil on her face. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, her breath had quickened and she wore a wicked smile that resembled the expression I had seen in the porn magazines to which I had become addicted. I think I fell in love with her at that moment.
“Will that do?” asked mother.
“Yes, that will do Wendy. You can leave me alone with him now.” said Barbara.
Mother came up to me and stood so close, I thought she was going to repeat what Barbara had just done. In a sick way, I was kind of hoping she would, for she stood there with her hands on her hips looking down at me. Her lacy, slightly see-thru panties were directly in front of may face. I looked at the V of her pubic bush with a sense of longing, but knew it was wrong to desire your own mother in this way. She noticed me looking at her pussy and shook her head, making a “tut-tut” sound. She then turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Barbara was now sitting on the edge of my bed and told me to stand. My bedroom was very small and as I stood, my aching cock was only millimetres from her face. She grabbed by cock and examined it lovingly before putting it in her mouth and started sucking it greedily. She pushed my buttocks from behind forcing me to deep throat her. I had never had a woman do that before. In seconds, I was starting the first few spasms of an orgasm and groaned as my body muscles clenched. I tried to pull back but Barbara had me locked into her mouth and she was encouraging me to shoot my load into her.
I groaned with pleasure as I felt my seed shoot deep into her mouth. She continued to suck and swallow greedily as my whole body twitched and spasmed.
“Now it’s my turn!” she said and took off her bra and panties.
As I said earlier in this story, I had had a few sexual relationships with young females who were beautiful in their own way. However, I had seen images in porn mags of women who were clearly older and more mature. I had never imagined I would have sex with such a woman and how beautiful an older woman would look in real life. I had imagined that Barbara’s pussy would be really hairy, like some of the women in the mags.
I was right!
As she lay back on my bed and parted her lovely big thighs, I was rewarded with a view of her hairy nest, the likes of which I had never seen before nor since. She was a very hairy lady, the thick bush extending all the way between her legs to her arse. Her love lips were peeping through the dense bush like a hidden treasure and, as she pulled my head into her crotch, I knew I was in heaven. I was already aroused once again.
“Do you know how to please a woman?” asked Barbara.
“Teach me!” I gasped as I started kissing her sex and licking her most intimate regions. She was wet and the smell and taste of her was intoxicating.
“Oh yes, little slave, I will teach you how to please me.”
And she did!
The following story is partly true, but I have embellished it somewhat to make it interesting.
I remember that hot sunny afternoon as though it was yesterday. It was the summer of 1974. I was eighteen and living at home. My dad left my mum when I was sixteen, so with two younger sisters, I was the only male in the family. My mum seemed perfectly happy and had an active social life.
I was no innocent at that age. By eighteen, I had had sex many times, mostly with my most recent girl friend Sue with whom I was totally in love, but she dumped me shortly before my eighteenth birthday and I was heartbroken. Because I was in the process of healing, I was not interested in having any other relationships and became a bit of social recluse.
However, my sexual urges continued unabated and I seem to remember being in a permanently horny state at that age. I masturbated every day. Sometimes three, four times a day. I could scarcely keep my hands off my dick. Naturally, there had to be an outlet for all of this sexual energy and sadly, for me, it was pornography. Not just any old porn, but anything to do with female domination or’ femdom’ as the genre is commonly known. You may well ask; how can one so young become interested in a fetish such as this? Well, I honestly think it was inside my head all the time, but the desire was definitely inflamed by my first visit to a porn shop with some mates while walking home from a football match in Birmingham one day. Among the magazine racks in that shop was a veritable cornucopia of all tastes and fetishes, and most of them were mildly disturbing. Yet my eyes were drawn like magnets to the covers of magazines that had titles like “mistress of the whip” or “Bitch Goddesses” or “Corporal quarterly”. The front covers depicted women in raunchy lingerie standing over males who were usually naked and in bondage.
I didn’t purchase any of the mags while with my football friends, but snuck into the shop a week or so later with my pockets full of my week’s wages and bought up large. I remember the surge of adrenalin as I rode my bike at full speed back home so I could drool over the pictures of the first three mags I had bought.
Now back to the summer of 1974.
During those days, my mum’s friend Barbara used to come and visit. She lived nearby and sometimes used to baby sit myself and my two sisters while my mother went out. As I grew older, it was me who had to baby sit my two sisters while Barbara and my mother went out in the evenings.
We were so used to Barbara being around, we kids used to think of her as part of the family. Indeed, the girls and I used to call her auntie Barbara. Of course, by the time I had reached eighteen, there was no need to call her auntie any more. She insisted on me calling her Barbara.
I noticed her attitude to me had changed. She used to look at me differently. She used to smirk and wink at me a lot. Sometimes, she would touch my hair or squeeze my face with one hand, or pat my bottom. I was too daft and emotionally immature to know why she did this. I just assumed she was being friendly and affectionate. However, in response to her, my attitude towards her also changed. I felt a little uncomfortable around her. Sometimes her grinning and pats on the bottom were just plain embarrassing. I could never fathom what the hell she found so amusing about me!
Then there was that hot summer day. I think it was a Saturday afternoon. The girls were out with their friends and I was at home in the back garden with mum relaxing in the sun on sun loungers. I was reading an Alex Higgins novel as I recall. Strange the things you remember.
Then Barbara came visiting. As soon as she arrived, I had to give up my sun lounger and was told to go and make a cup of tea for both of them. Bloody cheek! Why should I have to surrender my comfy spot and my peaceful reverie? But in those days, boys respected their mothers and I obeyed albeit with a snort of protest.
As I got up to do my chore as requested, Barbara asked me to unzip the back of her dress. I assumed she wanted to sunbathe and expected her to be wearing a swimming costume. However, to my astonishment, she let the dress fall to the ground and was standing there in her underwear! My mother had already set this precedent by regularly sunbathing in underwear in our back garden, which was very private and secure. But to see Barbara just brazenly parade herself like that came as a bit of a shock. She was a good looking woman of thirty two with dyed blond short hair, as was the fashion back then. She had a voluptuous figure and her soft, pale flesh bulged beautifully in all the right places. She had a good size pair of breasts and her hips were wide and beautifully splayed from a narrow waist. Her thighs were thick, long and strong and her calves were muscular and firm.
She could not fail to have noticed my jaw drop and then my absolute discomfort at being so close to this Goddess of a woman. One could have said her underwear was like a bikini, but I am sure it was not a bikini. It was a brown, satin-like material – a matching bra and pants set. Her huge tits formed a beautiful cleavage that seemed marvellously deep and alluring. I sincerely thought I would be able to control my eyes and avoid ogling at her.
I was wrong!
As I looked at her magnificent form I was drawn to the beautiful shape of her pussy and the thick hair sprouting from the sides of her panties. In those days, women did not spend so much time as they do today removing bikini lines. For some reason women assume this is ugly to males. How wrong they are! In those brief seconds my eyes scanned her sexy body and my legs went weak and my heart started pounding like a jack hammer in my chest. I was glad to get away to the kitchen to compose myself. As I was scurrying to the safety of the kitchen, Barbara called out to me: “No sugar!” She was giving me that knowing look and smirking again.
“Oh God!” I thought. “Can she be reading my thoughts? Did she see my hard-on? She’s my mum’s friend, for God‘s sake!”
During the ten minutes it took to boil the kettle and to make three cups of tea, I had composed myself and considered that I was under control. As I carried the tray containing three cups and a plate of biscuits outside, I put on a pair of sunglasses, just in case. I was confident I would be able to avert my gaze from the lovely Barbara and keep my dick from growing hard.
I was wrong!
I served mum her cup of tea first and let her select a biscuit. So far so good.
Then I served Barbara her tea and biscuits. True to form, Barbara teased me by taking her time to select her biscuit. She looked at me and winked and I think the tray started to tremble at that point, for my eyes were wandering and taking in the loveliness of her sun tan lotion covered, glistening body. Her nipples were huge! The bra was not covering the prominent shape of them very well. They seemed to me to be as big as organ stops, bulging through the thin material of her bra. Her belly was soft and glistening and her thighs were spread just a little to allow the full shape of her pussy to be fully appreciated.
My cock was stiffening rapidly while Barbara dawdled some more over her confounded biscuit selection. Having selected her biscuit, I grabbed the remaining mug of tea from the tray and turned quickly so as to avoid the possibility of exposing the huge bulge inside my jeans. As I turned, a drop of tea slopped onto Barbara’s arm.
“Ouch!” she shrieked.
My mother looked over and snarled “Be careful you stupid boy!”
“Oh Barbara, I’m really sorry, are you alright?” I pleaded.
I grabbed my loose T-shirt off the grass and swatted away any remaining trace of liquid from her shoulder where it had landed.
“It’s alright, I’ll live!” she looked at her shoulder and then up at me with a sidelong glance and smirked at me again. I studied her shoulder to make sure I hadn’t scolded her and was relieved to see it looked blemish free, thank God! I was also thinking I’d inadvertently avoided an embarrassing incident.
I was wrong!
As I looked at her, she was staring at my crotch while sipping her tea. My hard was still there as plain as can be, practically crawling out of the top of my tight jeans. I turned to walk away, but she suddenly grabbed me by the belt of my jeans and pulled me towards her.
“What have we here?” she cooed. The tips of her fingers went inside my jeans and scratched the tip of my dick, making me flinch. I tried to back away, but in one movement, she’d put her mug of tea on the grass, had swung her legs toward me and had grabbed my belt with both hands.
“What have you got inside there, huh? You look very happy to see me!”
Then she started unbuckling my belt!
The fact that my mother was only a metre or so away from the two of us made this an excruciatingly embarrassing moment. I would have thought my mother would have been duly affronted by Barbara’s behaviour and would have said or done something to protect me.
I was wrong!
My mother lowered her sun glasses and looked at what Barbara was doing and just smiled! Then carried on reading!
“Please Barbara, no!” I pleaded. But it was too late. With amazingly expert hands, she had completely undone my belt and zipper and had my cock in her hands.
“Well, well! What have we here? Davey’s got a hard on. And very nice it is too. Well you grew up to be a big boy didn’t you?”
I was thinking lots of things at that moment. Things like: “Have I washed my dick lately?” or “Please Mum, don’t look!” But it was all too late for that. Barbara was gently caressing and wanking me, and worse still, mother was now watching!
Barbara turned around and said to mother: “Look what a big boy he has become? You must have used this to lift him out of his bath when he was a baby!” and both women laughed.
Then, Barbara just simply let go of my dick and waved me away. “Go on!” she said. “Go and have a wank over your disgusting magazines.”
With that, she picked up my book and started reading the inside cover. “Is this any good?” she asked, as though nothing unusual had just happened.
I didn’t bother to answer. I just quickly buckled myself back up and ran to the safety of the house.
I ran up to my room and leapt onto my bed and buried my face in the pillow groaning out loud. What the hell just happened? She just grabbed my dick in front of my mother and she knows about my porn mags! How the hell did she know about those?
The porn mags!
I quickly leapt of the bed and lifted the mattress. They were gone! My entire collection of porn had been taken. Who could have taken them? It could only have been my mother. Damn! Why, oh why didn’t I hide them in a more discreet and secure place. Mum would almost certainly have found them simply by changing the sheets, which I was too lazy to do myself.
A wave of deep shame and embarrassment washed over me. I felt like crying. My cover was blown. Mother and Barbara would see me as a sick pervert. I held my head in my hands and contemplated this embarrassing situation for a while. Then I put a record on the stereo to try and blot out my feelings, which I was in the habit of doing back then. I sat on the floor and let the cheery music of Mott The Hoople intrude into my mind. It helped.
Presently, there was a knock on the door. I turned the music off and Barbara entered the room closely followed by my mother. Neither had bothered to dress and were standing in front of me in their underwear. A feeling of dread assailed me as I saw the pile of porn mags in mum’s arms. She threw them onto the bed.
“It’s pretty obvious what your sexual preferences are.” said Barbara.
“Where did you get this stuff?” asked mother.
“I was given it.” I lied. Somehow, confessing to actually spending money on these mags seemed like an abomination.
Mum said: “Help me to understand what it is you see in this stuff. Do you like to be dominated? Did Sue used to dominate you?”
“No, I, I dunno. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Yes, you will damn well talk about it and you’d better start talking now!”
She picked up one of my favourite mags and opened up the centre spread which showed three women dressed in incredibly raunchy underwear but with no panties on, standing over a naked male slave. They were all flogging him with various whips and paddles and the man seemed to be in pain.
“I this what you fantasise about?” demanded mother.
Despite myself I could feel my cock stirring and I looked up at Barbara. She was smirking knowingly. I put my arm over my lap to hide the growing bulge.
Mother held the page in front of me. “Answer me my lad. Tell me what you like about this picture.”
My face must have turned deep crimson.
“Come on, we want to know what you like about this picture,” chided Barbara.
“I-I’m sorry, this is too embarrassing!” I exclaimed and tried to get up. But Barbara placed a hand on my shoulder and pressed me down back onto by backside.
“It’s what comes next isn’t it? This is what you like?” she flicked over the page and the scene showed the slave on his knees with his face buried in the crotch of a dominatrix seated on a couch while the other two women whipped his backside. A close up picture showed his tongue licking the clitoris of the seated dominatrix while his face showed an expression of pain. It was one of my favourite shots.
“Christ, mum, what do you want me to say?” I blurted. “Of course I like that picture! Who wouldn’t?”
“Well, it’s disgusting! Any you’re a disgusting little pervert!” said mother, but without the vitriol one would normally expect.
“What should we do with him Barbara?” said mother.
“I think we should give him a taste of his own medicine as punishment,” said Barbara.
“Take off your belt!” demanded mother. “We may not have whips and paddles, but we can certainly use your belt instead. Come on! Chop, chop!”
With my heart fluttering in dread, I did as I was told.
“You might as well take you jeans and pants off” suggested Barbara.
“No, this is not right!” I protested.
“And I suppose masturbating over fetish porn is perfectly alright is it?” said mother scornfully. “Do as your auntie Barbara says, take you jeans and pants off, now!”
It had been many years since mother had referred to Barbara as ‘auntie’. It seemed strange to call her that now.
I reluctantly stood up and did as I was told. By this time my cock was half hard, with my mind in no man’s land, somewhere between fear, shame and utter lust. I started trembling.
“Now get on your hands and knees and face your auntie Barbara.”
I did as was told and my head was at the same level as Barbara’s pussy. Barbara tenderly stroked my hair, which seemed a strange thing to do to a boy who was about to be punished.
I felt really weird and vulnerable. But the sight of Barbara standing over me with that knowing smirk on her face belied the seriousness of the situation. It was almost like my fantasy was being played out for me. The closeness of Barbara’s sex was completely distracting and her fingertips in my hair was having an electrifying effect. My keen sense of smell could smell the sweaty muskiness of her.
“How many strokes would you like?” asked mum. This seemed a strange question to ask. “I-I don’t know. “ I said pathetically.
“”Let’s try one for size.”
Mother let the full length of the belt lash my backside, and it hurt a lot more than I expected.
“Ouch!” I shrieked. “That hurt!” I protested in a girlish voice.
“Well, that’s what you want isn’t it? Pain?”
“No mum, you don’t understand.” I said. “I like the cruelty, but not the pain. I don’t like pain at all.”
“Tough shit my lad!” shouted mum and with that, let go another stinging blow to my backside.
“We want to punish you,” purred Barbara and she was now smiling and pulling my face closer to her. She then put one foot up onto my bed so that her gorgeous, fleshy thigh was presented to me at the exact level of my head. “Kiss my thighs here.”
She indicated where she wanted me to kiss along the inside of her thigh.
I couldn’t believe this was happening!
My head was spinning with lust and my cock was as hard as a rock. I had to admit, this was starting to look interesting!
I gently kissed up all along Barbara’s thigh, daring to get closer and closer to her lovely crotch. I took the liberty of ducking lower so that my upturned face was almost under her in order to get an eyeful of her loveliness. She looked magnificent with her hands on her hips, her large breasts straining against the flimsy bra. At close range, I could see the shape of her bush beneath the this material of her panties and the slight bulge of her labia between her legs. I could also smell her sex now, and the effect was intoxicating. I thought I was going to faint.
My lust got the better of me and I pressed my face into Barbara’s crotch to a sudden and unexpected howl of protest from both women.
“How dare you!” roared mother.
“You were not told to do that, you naughty boy!” said Barbara. “Whip him Wendy, teach him a lesson!”
Mum became frenzied and aggressive with the belt and lashed at my backside and back continuously for a minute or so. How many lashes I got, I don’t know, but I was howling in protest and begging her to stop.
Barbara stood in front of me a pulled my head into her crotch to muffle my protests. I looked up and said “Please make her stop!”
But Barbara had a look of shear evil on her face. Her eyes were wide and sparkling, her breath had quickened and she wore a wicked smile that resembled the expression I had seen in the porn magazines to which I had become addicted. I think I fell in love with her at that moment.
“Will that do?” asked mother.
“Yes, that will do Wendy. You can leave me alone with him now.” said Barbara.
Mother came up to me and stood so close, I thought she was going to repeat what Barbara had just done. In a sick way, I was kind of hoping she would, for she stood there with her hands on her hips looking down at me. Her lacy, slightly see-thru panties were directly in front of may face. I looked at the V of her pubic bush with a sense of longing, but knew it was wrong to desire your own mother in this way. She noticed me looking at her pussy and shook her head, making a “tut-tut” sound. She then turned around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Barbara was now sitting on the edge of my bed and told me to stand. My bedroom was very small and as I stood, my aching cock was only millimetres from her face. She grabbed by cock and examined it lovingly before putting it in her mouth and started sucking it greedily. She pushed my buttocks from behind forcing me to deep throat her. I had never had a woman do that before. In seconds, I was starting the first few spasms of an orgasm and groaned as my body muscles clenched. I tried to pull back but Barbara had me locked into her mouth and she was encouraging me to shoot my load into her.
I groaned with pleasure as I felt my seed shoot deep into her mouth. She continued to suck and swallow greedily as my whole body twitched and spasmed.
“Now it’s my turn!” she said and took off her bra and panties.
As I said earlier in this story, I had had a few sexual relationships with young females who were beautiful in their own way. However, I had seen images in porn mags of women who were clearly older and more mature. I had never imagined I would have sex with such a woman and how beautiful an older woman would look in real life. I had imagined that Barbara’s pussy would be really hairy, like some of the women in the mags.
I was right!
As she lay back on my bed and parted her lovely big thighs, I was rewarded with a view of her hairy nest, the likes of which I had never seen before nor since. She was a very hairy lady, the thick bush extending all the way between her legs to her arse. Her love lips were peeping through the dense bush like a hidden treasure and, as she pulled my head into her crotch, I knew I was in heaven. I was already aroused once again.
“Do you know how to please a woman?” asked Barbara.
“Teach me!” I gasped as I started kissing her sex and licking her most intimate regions. She was wet and the smell and taste of her was intoxicating.
“Oh yes, little slave, I will teach you how to please me.”
And she did!