Chapter 3

   I made my way upstairs, and quietly let myself into my mother's bedroom.
My mother was a neat-freak, and it showed in here.  Everything was exactly
in its spot and the bed was immaculate.  Her closet door was ajar, and I
could see that every outfit inside was neatly placed and organized
according to colour and style.

   The king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room against the wall, with
the door to the master bath (where my slut was soaking in the tub) off to
the left.  The closet was on the right, with a small reading nook beside
it. Inside the nook was a comfy reading chair with a hanging plant
suspended above it.

   I hopped onto the bed and bounced a few times to make myself
comfortable. The bed frame was solid oak and didn't shake the least bit as
I settled in.  The bed posts had these circa 1970 egg-shaped tops to them,
about two and half inches around.  I wondered to myself how many times my
father fucked his slut on this bed.  It made me smile.

   I started thinking about the situation a little, and while I was really
excited about having my own little sex slave at home, I really didn't know
how to proceed.  I had really enjoyed both of mom's spankings (as my raging
hard-on could attest) and I was looking forward to punishing her again, but
what I was really looking forward to was completely dominating her.

   I wanted to humiliate her; to make her do things she would never do,
just because I said so.  I wanted to truly own her.  I just didn't know how
to go about accomplishing this.

   Mom obviously had more experience than I did (I don't know if my
fingering sessions with Susie Jacobs actually qualified as experience in
this area) but I couldn't think of a way to tap that experience without
undermining my authority.

   I heard the tub start emptying in the other room and it brought me out
of my little funk.  I needed to think of something, and fast.  That's when
my eyes came to rest on the foot board again.  Or rather, on the bed posts.
I smiled at myself in what could only be described as "a devilish way" and
chuckled.

   Mom came out of the bathroom wrapped in her robe.  She clearly didn't
expect to see me lying on the bed because she stopped suddenly and looked
at the ground.

   "I think at this stage of our relationship we can dispose of modesty,
don't you?  In fact, from now on, you will only wear what I specifically
lay out for you.  Is that understood?"

   She nodded and slowly removed her robe and hung it neatly behind her
door.  She stood before me and looked at the floor.  I can't describe that
feeling; of having someone completely subjugated before you.  Of
controlling someone's fate so completely, and holding them powerless over
their own actions.  It was...intoxicating.

   "I'm going to leave the room and come back in two minutes.  During that
time, you are going to insert this bed post," I indicated the right bed
post, "up your ass.  You can use whatever natural lubricant you want, but I
remind you that your prior punishment is still in effect: no masturbation.
If that post is not lodged up your ass when I get back, I'm going to shove
it up there bone dry and I won't be gentle.  So you'd best get working."

   She looked up at me and opened her mouth as if to say something.  "Your
time starts now."

   With that, she closed her mouth, swallowed her fear and slowly made her
way to the foot of the bed.  She seemed to evaluate the post for a second,
then made the slightest of nods, as though to herself and set to work.  She
spit into her hand and rubbed the saliva all around the egg-shaped bed
post. Her bath had washed away all of the pussy juice she had built up
during her spanking, so she had to settle for spit alone.

   I got up from the bed and left the room as she started fellating the
post.  I went into my bedroom and started rummaging through my closet. 
Every year my great aunt always gives me some of the lamest Christmas
gifts. Two years ago, for some unknown reason, she bought me a set of three
"Sport Goofy" ties.  And for some even larger unknown reason, I had kept
them.

   I found them buried in the bottom of my closet, still in their original
wrapping.  I heard some mild grunting from the other room, so I quickly
unwrapped the three ties and brought them with me.

   My slut was quite a sight to see.  She was squatting over the bed post
with about three quarters of the post lodged solidly up her ass.  She was
peppered in a bright sheen of perspiration and whimpering slightly.  Her
face did not appear happy.

   I stepped up behind her and bent over to inspect her asshole closely. 
"Hmm...not bad."

   I walked to the other side and dropped the ties on the bed.  I grabbed
the first one; it showed "Sport Goofy" doing flips on the rings.  My slut
whimpered and her legs were trembling slightly.  I said to her, "Please
extend your right leg."

   She looked at me as though I was speaking Greek, but I just waited.  She
finally put her hands on the mattress and slowly inched her right ankle
towards me.  As her weight shifted from her legs to her arms I could see
the trembling follow.

   I grabbed her right ankle and forced it flush against the foot board. 
This caught her by surprise and she muttered "Oh!" while I quickly wrapped
the tie around it, securing it in place.  I walked over to the side of the
bed and asked for her left leg.  Again she looked at me, pleading in her
eyes.  But when I didn't relent, she slowly inched her left leg towards me.

   She couldn't get a full 90 degrees splits, and I really had nothing to
secure her leg to, but I was still proud of her.  She must have been at
about 75 degrees when I looped the second tie around her ankle.  The third
and final tie went through the loop on her left ankle and secured it to the
bed frame down at the box spring.

   Satisfied, I strolled back to the left of the bed and jumped up on the
mattress.  Again, I bounced around a bit to get comfortable.  Every little
vibration sent chills up mom's spine, and she shook a bit every time I
moved.  Her arms were getting very tired now, and the strain was becoming
increasingly obvious.

   "Why don't you play with your nipples?" I asked her.

   She looked up at me pleadingly so I raised my eyebrow at her.  Her left
hand slowly made its way up her body and she started playing with her left
nipple.  She took a deep breath and reduced the support from her right. 
She grunted and it was like her asshole suddenly opened up and swallowed
the rest of the bed post.  Her whole body dropped about an inch and came to
rest against the foot board while she sat there for a few seconds with her
eyes closed.

   Her right hand joined her left and started manipulating her nipple.  Her
pussy was still bone dry, but I thought I could detect some swelling down
there.  After a few minutes of mild nipple stimulation, she opened her eyes
and looked at me squarely.  I smiled at her to show my approval.

   "Tell me how this all began."

   She said nothing for at least two minutes.  Her hands were lazily toying
with her nips, but the rest of her body was completely still.  I could
barely even see her chest moving with each breath.  Finally, she took a
deep breath and began her story; she told me how she became a submissive
slut.

   "I guess you could say it started in high school in my sophomore year. I
was always dating these losers who treated me badly and thought they were
God's gift to womankind.  I thought there was something wrong with me, that
I was some kind of loser magnet that only attracted that kind of man.  And
then I met Steve."

   "At first he treated me like a normal person.  He was a freshman at the
community college and we met at a football game.  He knew somebody who knew
somebody who knew me.  I don't even remember who, but we were introduced
and then he invited me to pizza after the game."

   "We hung out for a while at the diner with a bunch of people.  I
remember that we won the game, so everyone was cheering loudly.  Steve
seemed really nice, and when he asked me out the following weekend I
immediately agreed."

   "The following Saturday we went to see a movie and I guess I was
smitten. He was so much older and more mature than the guys I was used to,
and he took advantage of that.  We went out for a few weeks before things
started changing."

   "I didn't notice it at first, but he stopped being nice to me.  He
wasn't outright rude like the other boys I dated, but pleasantries took a
back seat to his pleasure.  He stopped asking me where I wanted to go, what
movie I wanted to see, or even what I wanted to eat.  Eventually, he was
making all of our joint decisions without any input from me."

   "From there it wasn't long before he stopped saying nice things about
me, or asking for anything.  He would just tell me and I would do it."

   "It must have been about three months since we had started going out. 
We would fool around some, but I hadn't gone all the way yet.  We had
gotten close, but I just wasn't ready.  It sounds foolish now, but I wanted
to wait until the homecoming dance to `do the deed' with my man." She
laughed a bit, obviously remembering some childhood foolishness.

   "It was a magical evening, too.  Everything that was supposed to happen
did, and when he finally got into my panties, it was so worth the wait. 
Our relationship may have deteriorated during our dates, but he knew how to
get my motor running when the lights went out.  I was slowly building up to
my climax when he whispered into my ear `Cum for me my little slut!' and I
just went off like a bottle rocket."

   While she was telling me her story, my mother's voice was calm but her
hips were slowly gyrating and I could hear little sucking sounds as her
asshole grasped and released the bed post.  Her pussy had gotten a little
juicy as she got into her story, and a deep blush was spreading across her
chest.

   "Every time after that, as soon as he whispered something kinky into my
ear I would cum and cum and cum.  Sometimes I was his slut, sometimes his
whore, but he would always command me to cum.  It was incredible and it
completely made up for any shortcomings in our inter-personal relationship.
In fact, I was usually flattered when he would make decisions for me."

   "Our relationship only lasted about nine months, but that laid the
ground work for me.  I kept seeking out stronger and stronger masters, even
though I didn't know that was what I was doing.  And then your father came
into my life..."

   She trailed off and left the rest of her story open-ended, but I was
having none of that.

   "How did you meet him?"

   Her eyes closed and her hip rotation became a little more pronounced. 
She actually used her ankles to raise herself up a bit and then drop down,
essentially fucking her ass with the bed post.  Her nipples were diamonds
as she pinched and pulled them and a look of concentration was falling over
her face.

   "Do not cum." My command was straightforward, and it had the desired
effect.  She stopped her hip rotation and looked up at me, with that "hand
in the cookie jar" look.

   "I met him at a club.  It was an S&M club that I had started going to
after my first year in college.  I went through a string of guys who liked
to tie me up and treat me rough before I finally figured out what I wanted,
so I started hitting the scene.  I wasn't looking for anything or anyone in
particular on that night, and I certainly wasn't looking for a new master.
I just wanted to be around other people like me.  And then boom, I met your
father.  He looked at me and I could tell he could see right through me,
see into my soul."

   "That first night I went home with him he didn't even touch me.  He tied
me up in his basement and tortured me for hours.  He paddled me, tied me up
in all kinds of positions, clipped my nipples and my clit...oh...it was
marvellous."

   "He had other slaves during our time together, and I serviced other
masters, but we always kept finding each other again.  Soon, we stopped
going to the clubs because we had what we needed.  He still tied me up and
whipped me into a frenzy, but we were getting together three times a week,
instead of just Friday nights."

   My mother had started moving her hips again, and I could tell she was
getting lost in the memory.  There was a dark puddle under her which
provided all the evidence I needed to tell that she was well on her way to
that forbidden orgasm.

   "And then he did something I never expected.  He released me.  By his
command we spent a month apart to make sure.  31 days later, he proposed
and I moved in.  He told me that his other slaves were boring to him, and I
told him how the other masters always failed to fulfill me.  I went to the
altar with my fresh mark," she indicated the tattoo on her pussy mound,
"but nobody knew that except him."

   "In exchange for his promise to always care for me, I surrendered to him
the only thing I could: my safe word."

   I cocked my eye at her prompting her to explain.  "Every slave, or
bottom, has a safe word.  A word that signifies they have reached their
tolerance and want to stop.  Often, the begging and pleading is part of the
desire, so simply saying `Stop' or `No' won't work.  A top must honour the
safe word and stop immediately if the bottom issues it.  That is the trust
that must exist between a sub and a Dom.  Without that trust, neither one
can fully immerse themselves into the experience."

   "My word was Mercy, but I had never used it.  On my wedding bed, I
surrendered my safe word to my Master.  He truly owned me, and I would deny
him nothing."

   I sat there for a few minutes, saying nothing.  She was still playing
with her nipples and they looked as if they could cut through glass.  My
cock was rock hard as I pictured her submitting to my father.  I still had
a little trouble picturing my dad in that role, but I was beginning to
accept it.