Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
All Characters are over the age of 18
I was strapped to the punishment table because I had been disobedient. In reality, it was an old massage bed that had been adapted and modified recently and I was there because once again I had raised my voice and tried to assert my opinion, something that was not allowed. I should have known better; this wasn't the first time I have been punished for overstepping the mark.
With my face nestling in the hole at one end, my view was limited to beneath the bed which presently was dark because of the material that ran all around its edge and reached the floor. I couldn't raise my head because of the strap which held it in position, nor could I move my arms because my wrists were attached by restraints to the legs of the bed.
My feet overhung the other end and again these were secured with leather straps that immobilised my legs. To complete my confinement, a long leather belt and buckle secured my waist and buttocks, keeping me motionless as I awaited my punishment. The adaptation that I mentioned was a hole cut in the tabletop, exactly where my groin rested and through which, in my naked state, my limp penis and scrotum presently dangled.
Someone entered the room, coming to stand by the table, I watched fearfully underneath as the material on one side was drawn back like a set of curtains, but only enough to allow a hand and arm to be inserted as a solitary finger softly stroked the head of my cock. I had no defence against that digit as immediately I felt a familiar sensation in my groin and watched as my shaft began to thicken and expand.
When the hand had achieved its objective of bringing me to a full erection, a clamp was attached to my genitals which would stop me from trying to withdraw them and also to help keep my erection from diminishing. I watched the hand withdraw, returning moments later covered in lotion as it massaged the oil into my shaft and sack, long slow strokes followed as it ran from my bollocks up the length of my cock and finished as it massaged my knob.
Gritting my teeth, I attempted to stop the groans of pleasure threatening to sneak out as the hand wanked my shaft slowly and teasingly, causing it to jerk repeatedly as my arousal grew. The sensations had got heady, and a moan had left my lips as the fingers slid around my glans and stroked my knob. I knew what came next, bracing myself as the leather paddle came down with force on my buttocks with a stinging slap.
I couldn't stop myself yelping in pain, my body trying to move, but I was restrained by all the straps and my cock clamped beneath the tabletop. Again, and again, the paddle landed, my buttocks smarting from the blows and my shaft starting to lose its stiffness as pain masked the pleasure. Clamping my lips together, I suffered two more blows before they stopped now that I was silent again.
The stroking resumed and my erection returned, my cock and balls throbbing now because the hand was relentless, sliding up and down my cock as it jerked me off, constantly rubbing at that sensitive area under the rim of my helmet as my climax drew ever closer.
I knew what was going to happen, it happened each time, the overriding sensations filling my sack and shaft forcing me to cry out loud, my cock shuddering in the hand as I watched spurt after spurt of my semen erupt from its tip, the hand jerking my flesh rapidly, as the paddle came down angrily on my buttocks time and time again, each slap of it leathery surface eliciting another spurt of cum from my cock and the hand never wavering as it extracted every drop of fluid that my sack could expel.
When it was over, the clamp was deftly removed, the straps undone, and then the room was silent as I was left alone to recover, my cock now flaccid after my huge ejaculation and my buttocks sore and stinging from the repeated blows of the paddle.
At last, I moved, gingerly easing myself from the table until my feet touched the floor, and I was able to stand. There was some soothing balm on the small table to one side and I squeezed some into my hand and looking in the wall mirror, spreading it across my rosy, red buttocks.
Dressed and back downstairs, I apologised to my stepmother and stepsister, asking their forgiveness and thanking them for my punishment.
My stepmother has always been strict, the opposite of my mother who had been tender and caring, but she had passed away when I was eight and a year later my father had moved Stella and her daughter Leah into our house. He was a salesman, forever out on the road during the week and I suppose an eight-year-old kid cramped his style. We had no relatives who lived near us, so for twelve months after my mother's death, I was passed from pillar to post, left with whoever would take me while he was away.
When he was around at the weekends, Stella and Leah were as nice as pie, but the moment he was gone for the week, my life became a misery. Stella loved to punish me for the most insignificant misdemeanour and so I would find myself mostly confined to my room.
I tried to tell him, but he was not interested, telling me that I must have deserved it and so eventually I just gave in and learned to accept that I must have done wrong.
Leah was definitely her mother's daughter, she was a sneaky, obnoxious, lying bitch who would do and say anything that would get me into trouble. She was four years older than me when they moved in and her idea of fun was to humiliate me at any opportunity.
As I got older, I became stubborn, and so Stella's punishments escalated proportionately. I had no friends because no one was allowed to visit our house unless permission was obtained from her first, something that was never given. Going through phrases of being boisterous, by my early teen's I would back-chat or defy her, but slowly it was expunged from my character, Stella always finding reasons each day to punish me until I became subdued and subservient.
When I turned eighteen, she upped the ante again, her favourite ploy being one of humiliation. It would be a couple of weeks after my birthday and as usual, I had done something to annoy her. Her punishment on this occasion was to have me drop my trousers and stand in the corner of the room with my flaccid cock hanging down and waiting for whatever came next. When a sufficient amount of time had passed, she called me over to her and I had to lay across her knee's while she spanked me. At eighteen I should have been indignant, but I just didn't know how to fight back and so readily accepted it.
It was during that punishment about six months later, that I had committed the cardinal sin.
Stella worked at a salon during the day as a therapist and masseur, which was probably where the punishment table came from, dealing with her mainly female customers. But each evening when my father was away, she would entertain her private customers, the majority of which were men. I had said something to one of them which Stella did not like and so once they had gone, I was back to my normal position of standing in a corner with my pants and undies around my ankles while Leah sniggered at me as I awaited my punishment.
As she uncrossed her legs, I got a quick view up Stella's skirt, noting that she was wearing stockings. Despite my dislike of her, the sight of her nylon clad legs caused a rush of blood to my cock, not enough for an erection, but enough to make it thicken. She did not need to speak as she beckoned me over, I knew the routine by now as I waddled across to her and leant across her knees. Unfortunately, somehow my shaft became lodged between her thighs as she clamped her legs together.
The flat of her hand came down on the cheeks of my arse, forcing my groin hard against her thighs and pushing the skin back on my cock. Each subsequent blow, although my buttocks were stinging, tossed me off as my erection rubbed between her stockinged legs. She took great satisfaction from my moans and groans, assuming it was because of her spanking, when in fact it was because my excitement and arousal had got the better of me.
As she delivered what she thought was her final blow, the unthinkable happened, my cock ejaculated cum all over her inner thighs and legs, jerking continuously until I had emptied my sack.
As you can imagine, she was horrified, screaming abuse at me as Leah looked on in amusement. Stella pushed me away as she stood and tried to kick me in the bollocks, my hands protectively trying to cover my manhood. After several slaps and kicks, I was sent to my room in disgrace, knowing that there would be retribution for what had happened.
Her retribution was the punishment table I found out soon afterwards, naked and strapped to it, Leah would take great delight as she played with my cock, bringing it erect and teasing me for as long as possible as she delayed my climax. Any sign that I was enjoying it would immediately result in the leather paddle coming down loudly as it slapped against my buttocks.
Leah was good at what she did, slowly and sensually stroking my shaft until my arousal was at its peak and my balls were fit to burst before wanking me furiously as my cum spurted forth, Stella waited for that moment and then she would frenziedly whack away at my posterior until she was exhausted. I suppose that her idea was eventually, my fear of the pain would stop me from being able to achieve a climax, unfortunately, the opposite was happening, and instead, I began to associate the pain with pleasure.
Having left school with no qualifications, I had ended up working in the same warehouse where Leah worked. At least there, she worked in the offices while I was out in the main body of the building which meant that I saw very little of her each day. I was glad that I'd had to open a bank account to have my wages paid into because it stopped Stella taking everything I earned, which she would use I presumed, to pamper herself and her daughter.
It was completely unfair, Leah never seemed to be in trouble for anything, all that went wrong was my fault and I would then have to suffer the humiliation of stripping off in front of them both whilst they laughed and pointed before submitting myself to Stella's judgement. Her decisions always seemed to rest on how she was feeling that day, it could be something as minor as standing naked in the corner, allowing them to slap at my genitals each time they passed, or it could be the water treatment.
