My Mother Owns Me

This is a continuation of the previous 2 chapters. It contains activities that in no way would be tolerated in our society. I offer it contrast to my other two stories, Slave Camp and Gotta Pay the Piper where a far more benevolent approach. In those stories I said that many in society felt it totally appropriate to use slaves harshly. Here I compounded that to by having slaves owned in the family.

Mom strode into the house followed by Bob, who was laden with their two small suitcases. "I'm home!" she announced loudly and cheerfully. Leah called back to tell her we were in the kitchen. Upon seeing me, Mom burst into laughter. "Oh, my! You certainly took my directive to lose your hair to heart. Was it your idea to lose the eyebrows or Leah's?" She rubbed my head and traced a finger over each brow as she grinned. Then she patted me on the cheek. What might have once been an affectionate gesture now felt like she was fondling a pet.

I knew full well Leah had been in contact and told her what happened. But like Crystal said, 'play the game.' "Leah told the lady at the cosmetology school to use me however she needed as a training aid." I said and paused wondering if Mom was going to call me out on using Leah's name without the 'Ms' but Mom did not seem to care. "When they finished, all my hair was gone." I tried my best to keep my voice as neutral as possible and not show just how much I hated my hairless state.

"Well, it is a strange look for you but I think I can learn to like it." Mom said, smiling. "Did they use hair growth inhibitor on your face and head?" I shook my head. "Well we can always do that in the future if we decide we want to keep you like this. Now let's see the rest." I'd expected the order but not the flippant way she said it. "You know what I mean, everything off. Well, you can keep the socks on. Now don't be shy. We've all seen everything you have and I'll bet these girls have had their hands on every inch of your body. Now it's my turn," She added enthusiastically.

I started to drop my shorts onto a nearby chair but remembered at the last second to fold them. A glint in Mom's countenance told me I'd barely saved myself at least a rebuke. My shirt and boxer briefs followed quickly. "Oh yes, I was too angry to comment the last couple times I saw you nude but your pubeless parts reminded me of when you were a little boy. I recall hearing you on the phone telling one of your cousins how you were growing hair down there! You were a big boy, almost a man! You were so excited to grow a little fuzz!" Mom paused to laugh.

I certainly did not remember any such incident and doubted it really happened. Mom was busting my balls. I knew better than to call her out, though. She might bust my balls literally rather than figuratively.

"Well, you aren't a man nor a hairless little boy anymore. You are merely a slave. And slaves stay hairless and smooth. Now let's see the rest." Mom added smugly.

Mom raised first my right arm and then my left for a glance at my arm pits. She did not touch either but did lightly rub her hand over my chest. I had never sported much chest hair before, which Mom knew, and what I did have grew mainly around my nipples. Mom felt my whole chest in her inspection, spending extra time rubbing her finger tips over each nipple, tweaking them lightly.

This was far worse than my involuntary nudity. This inspection was no clinical examination of a son by a mother, nor was it just an owner scrutinizing her slave for compliance to a directive. Under the pretense of examining my skin for hair, Mom was systematically stripping me of any dignity I might have left. Her gentle touch was both intimate and disconcerting. I felt violated. It is one thing to be a slave compelled to submit to his owner, but having that person be my own mother made the degradation infinitely worse. Her slight smile indicated she knew exactly what she was doing.

Her hands traced their way down my abdomen to my groin. She grasped my cock with her right hand and lifting it, caressed both sides and under my scrotum with the fingertips of her left. Caress was the best description of her light touch as she ran her fingertips all around as she gently stoked my cock to half erection. All the while she looked me straight in the face, a satisfied smile still present on her own.

Wordlessly, she put her hands on my shoulders to turn me. She tapped the inside of each ankle with her foot to signal her order I spread my legs. With a gentle push she indicated I bend. I was not sure how far so I just bent as far as I could without having to support myself with my hands. She ran her hands down my back and over my buttocks.

"Nice. The four stripes I gave you in my office Friday show nicely and are beginning to bruise a bit." That was an understatement as I'd examined myself in the mirror that morning and knew my ass looked ravaged. "And I guess the rest of these are from Leah last night. Five very pretty wheals." She touched each one and gave my battered butt a firm squeeze with both hands making me hiss in pain, but I did not move. She parted my cheeks and felt along the crack with the same soft touch she had used on my nipples. When she got to my anus she pressed much harder. I could not help the muffled grunt. I wondered if she was going to try to push a dry finger inside. "Is your little pucker tender?" she asked. I nodded. "You'll get used to taking it up the butt." She paused, laughing as she corrected herself. "No you won't, not completely, but you WILL adapt." I hoped my shudder was not visible. Mom did not comment.

"Okay. Stand and face me." Mom ordered. When I did, she said, "I am pleased you are smooth. You are to keep it that way from now on. But because you were slow in announcing you had a problem and asking for help I am still going to paddle you. You had no way of knowing if I was going to come home and inspect you Friday evening. If you had already discussed your need with Leah, then you'd have been of the hook. As it stands, you deserve a little lesson. Agreed?"

I knew full well that my opinion did not matter one whit. I wanted to emulate Crystal's response, "Yes, Ma'am, if you say so." Instead what came out of my mouth was a half plaintive plea, my voice breaking slightly, "Leah caned me for it already."

"Yes, but I told you yesterday I would give you six with the paddle myself. I always keep my promises. Isn't that the way it should be?" she asked, reasonably.

This time I managed to get the proper response out of my mouth. "Yes, Ma'am. Whatever you decide."

Mom grinned, "Ahh, now a conciliatory response. I'm guessing you are paying attention to Crystal after all. Bend over the chair while I get my paddle." I surrendered to the inevitable and got into place, my forearms on the seat. I heard the pantry door open and then close. "Ready?"

Hell, no I wasn't ready! But I nodded my head as I sucked in a deep breath. My butt caught on fire. This was not the focused line of fire a cane produced, but agony that spread across my already sore, bruised and welted ass. Clenching my teeth, I barely managed to not shriek. I did moan. Loudly. Mom administered five more spaced out blows. There was no way I could keep from crying. Indeed, I bawled. Finally, Mom told me to stand up, take my clothes and come back when I had dressed and composed myself. Leah said quietly, "Ten minutes."

I nodded thankfully. It would take two minutes to redress, five to wipe my eyes and adjust to the throbbing pain. But I knew full well I'd never get over my anguish. I'd always remember the humiliation of the last few minutes.

As I left the room, I noticed Bob standing to one side of the room. He was not gloating like I'd suspected he would. He just seemed relieved it was not him suffering the paddle.

Having to suffer this treatment at the hands of my own mother was almost too much to bear. Would I ever be able to get past this total disregard for my dignity after I was set free? Or would I break and become the compliant wimp totally conditioned to obey women like Leah had described a few days ago?

Living under my own mother's and sister's control was far worse for my psyche than if I was owned by a stranger. I wondered who had devised this plan. My sentence might be potentially shorter, but the agony and humiliation was far more intense. But I had no choice but to endure it. Demoralized, I almost broke down again before returning to the kitchen.

Leah met me half way. Apparently she had come to check on me. "Are you okay?" she asked. I wondered if she was really concerned. That was answered when my 'not really' was met with "Well you better suck it up, buttercup. This is your life. I warned you Friday you were in for a rough ride. Anything you want to talk about? It has to be quick though."

I did not want her to know just how distraught I was. I'm sure she had more than an inkling. I was equally sure my angst would please her and she'd tell me that was the whole point. I opted to change the subject slightly. "Well Mom said she was pleased I was smooth and for me to keep it that way. I know she meant my body, but was she including my whole head?"I asked quietly.

Leah laughed. "After all you went through a little while ago, that is your question? Why don't you ask Mom?" My answer I was afraid was met with more derision. I felt like crap. I'd have run out of the house and got as far away as I could but I knew that was not possible. The collar on my neck could not only shock me but had a GPS locator chip. My whereabouts could be located by merely touching an icon.

"Well, I am not gonna ask for you. If you want me to decide, ask me, but you will live with what I say unless Mom counters it, understood?" I took a breath and asked Leah to decide, figuring she would be a little more sympathetic than Mom. "Okay. I want you to shave your head daily at the same time you shave your face. Use the electric shaver we got you. I expect to find your head as smooth as your face which means totally. You do that until your eyebrows grow back. I might let you stop when they look kinda normal even if not at full growth. If you start asking me if they have grown enough, I'll pluck them myself and you'll start over. Consider that fair warning."

The doorbell rang but before Bob could answer, the front door opened and Amanda, Crystal's mom enters accompanied by Crystal's sister, Sheila. Both women were striking in their appearance. As pretty as Crystal, Amanda was an older version and Sheila a slightly younger.

"Oh, Dave, it is so good to see you. I was so upset to hear you got into trouble! But I am thrilled your Mom got to keep you and bring you home instead of you being sold off to who knows who. You could have suffered a terrible fate. Now you will be here and safe." Sheila gushed. I wondered if she'd feel so safe in the same predicament.

I remembered how not that many years ago Sheila had been a sweet shy young girl blushing and grinning while trying to hide her braces. Then she went through a short time of almost trying to blend into the woodwork, rarely offering a word even at home. I used to see her frequently when she would accompany her mother to the house. She and her brother spent most holidays at our house. The past few years, that was about the only times I saw her.

She had certainly blossomed since I'd last seen her. I'd heard she was on the cheerleading, pep squad or some such thing and was active in the student government. I never really paid that much attention to her school activities.

Today she wore tight fitting jeans that showed off her figure. Not a budding girlish figure but that of a sexy young woman. She wore a loose top that hid what I suspected from seeing Crystal nude, a set of perky breasts. She had also put on light makeup and smelled great. Basically, she exuded sex.

She turned to Crystal. "It's good to see you too, Sis. You are looking good, better than I thought. I expected a puffy face or bloodshot eyes from crying. I overheard Mom on the phone talking to Leah, I guess. Mom said, 'Oh you had to correct her twice in the same day? I bet her girls are really feeling it then.' Did Leah have to take you task for being a naughty girl?" Sheila asked sweetly but I could see the flint in her eye. "I know how sensitive my nipples are. I'd hate to have to submit to having them pinched and twisted for misbehaving, but I guess you are getting used to it. They must have callouses by now from all the use they get."

To give her credit, Crystal did not rise to the bait. Of course she knew better. She kept her mouth shut and acted like she either did not hear or did not understand the slight. I glanced over at Mom and Ms Amanda. I knew they had heard Sheila, as they had paused their conversation to listen.

Sheila turned back to me. She stood much closer than she needed to carry on a conversation. Her breasts were within scant millimeters of my chest. "Wow, Dave not having any hair on your head and face really changes your appearance! I always liked that mustache and the little beard you had. It was SO sexy. Maybe I can convince your Mom to let you grow the mustache. I know slaves aren't allowed any body hair. I can only imagine how you look 'down there' now." I could see Crystal stiffen in my peripheral vision.

This was all play and everybody in the room knew it. I'd never done a thing with Sheila and she had never seen me nude. She had not even come of age until a month or so ago, just before I was enslaved. I'd remembered being invited to her birthday party but was distracted by word the authorities were looking into the work I did on the side for Bob and his associates.

She lightly ran her finger under my eye. "Oh, I expected Crystal to be the one with bloodshot eyes from crying. I'm guessing either your Mom or Leah spanked your bottom for being a bad boy. But I won't ask who did it or what you did to deserve it." Sheila said. "I'm sure you learned your lesson. We'll put it behind us and move on."

She was seriously getting on my nerves. How could the sweet little girl I'd known turn into a bitch like this?

"You know, Dave, with Joel gone off to work up in Shreveport we could really use some help around the house especially with the yard. I know how to use the riding mower but the other stuff is beyond me." I stifled the impulse to make a wisecrack about breaking a nail. She paused and then added, "I'd REALLY love to take you home with me! We'd have so much fun together." Sheila almost breathed the last sentence, but it was loud enough everyone in the room heard it.

It was certainly loud enough for Crystal to hear. "Yeah, I imagine you WOULD like to take him home! You've dreamed about his dick forever. You've dogged his every action since you hit puberty, following him around like a little puppy dog." Crystal declared loudly. Suddenly she lost whatever control she had of her mouth. "I'm surprised you don't jump on him right here on the kitchen floor!"

Crystal abruptly realized she'd voiced her thoughts out loud and shut her mouth but a couple seconds too late. I knew full well Sheila had been deliberately antagonizing her older sister but when Crystal took the bait and lashed out, Sheila was still embarrassed and blushed. Her look of shock at being called out turned to embarrassment and then to anger. A beautiful woman's face turning to rage is a sight to behold. Especially one as expressive as Sheila's. It is downright scary.

The past few days had me hypersensitive to anger around me. I froze. My buttcheeks clenched. I held my breath. I'd already learned that as a slave, a loud rebuke is a major cause for alarm even if it is directed towards another.

"How dare you make a comment like that to me? BITCH!" Sheila seethed. "Especially with your history. Your taste in men is fu,,," She almost choked saying the word 'fucked'. My memory of her using the word in her teens and Amanda slapping her, and pounding her butt before washing her mouth out brought the beginnings of a smile that was quickly extinguished. I guess using the F word, even in anger, was still hard for Sheila.

"Your taste in men has not been that great, bitch." Sheila gritted. "The last one got your ass enslaved and from what I hear you were breaking up and weren't even doing it. Yet you followed right along and did what the bastard asked. Talk about stupid!" Crystal was seriously trying to backpedal saying she was sorry for what she'd said.

"Well, you ARE gonna be sorry." Sheila declared. She stepped forward and grabbed Crystal's shirt. Crystal realized she was about to be forcibly stripped and began to beg.

"Shut up!" Sheila demanded. "I know just how to deal with a cunt slave who can't control her mouth." She fumbled a bit with Crystal's buttons and I wondered if she was just going to rip the shirt apart, but she had obviously regained control of her anger. As soon as the shirt opened, Sheila undid the clasp holding the front of the bra together. She pushed both garments back over Crystal's shoulders baring her upper torso.

The shirt and bra caught on Crystal's hands which were clasped behind her back. I realized once again Crystal had been trained to automatically assume this position when her breasts were punished.

I wondered how many sessions it took to train Crystal to respond the way she did reflexively. I imagined she had suffered this indignity many times from others but this was the first time at her sister's hand. She was obviously mortified.

"Look at these nips standing tall!" Sheila chortled as she snapped her forefinger into each nipple in turn. "They do look a little bruised. Are they all puffy thinking about what I am about to do to them or has Dave been sucking on them?" Sheila asked her cringing sister. "Maybe both."

"If you don't learn to address me with respect, I'll stretch these nipples until they stick out an inch and your tits hang down to your belly button." she said as she reached forward with both hands. Standing just a yard or two away, I had a close up view when Sheila rotated her hands inward and grasped both nipples at their base between her thumb and second joint of her index fingers. She pinched as she rotated her hands out twisting not only Crystal's nipples, but a good bit of her areolae.

Crystal screeched. Her caterwauling turned strident as Sheila shook her tits vigorously. Finally Sheila released her grip. "I hope we understand each other." Sheila declared."The little girl you could tease and make fun of no longer exists." Crystal nodded frantically, afraid Sheila would continue her torment.

"Okay, we have a bit of business to discuss before we can eat." Mom announced. "That spaghetti sauce smells wonderful and I am hungry. The little English muffin I had for breakfast was not enough." She directed us to the living room.

Leah sat on the sofa with me on one side and Crystal, her bra and shirt now restored, sat on her other. Mom and Ms Amanda sat opposite us in recliners while Sheila sat in an arm chair to my right. Bob took a chair on the left side.

"Okay, before we begin, Bob, be a dear and fetch us all something to drink, please. I'd like some of that red wine Leah has chilling. What would the rest of you like? Wine or beer? Sheila, you are under twenty one but it is legal to drink if a parent serves you. You can imbibe but remember to not get behind the wheel of a car until totally sober. Neither your mother nor I want that kind of trouble." The genteel hospitality seemed incongruous, yet normal at the same time.

While Bob went to get wine for Mom and Amanda and beer for the rest of us, Mom continued, "This group talk is going to be an open forum. Anybody can say whatever they like without repercussions as long as it is respectful. Crystal's comment earlier was NOT so respectful."

"Yeah, very disrespectful even if it was true." Amanda quipped. She, Sandra and Leah laughed at the remark. I did not think it that funny, nor did Crystal. Sheila's face turned crimson. "Hey, I don't blame Sheila. She has good taste. I've imagined playing with Dave a bit myself." She grinned widely as she leered at me. "And now he is a collared slave, I fully intend to do exactly that!"