Bad Mother

Beware: Contains incest and BDSM.

*****

The high school graduation ceremony had been going for 45 minutes when Matthew, standing onstage with his classmates, finally spotted his mother's arrival. Dressed in a tight spring suit of mint green, the MILF looked hot - as always. Matt was furious, hurt—but not surprised. Janice's lateness was typical. It was a surprise that she had appeared at all. Chronically absent-minded, consistently scatter-brained, easily distracted and reliably self-centered, she was always blowing it.

Matt was so upset that he decided not to go out with his friends to celebrate. Instead, he spoke with his mother after the ceremony, firmly holding her wrist, and told her to drive home immediately. "Matthew, you're hurting my wrist," she said suggestively.

"Good. But that's only the beginning." She could see how deeply upset he was, so she was apprehensive, but also a bit excited. They drove in their own cars, Janice figuring that even patient Matthew could no longer put up with her inappropriate, sexy flirting and inexcusable behavior. Back at the house, Matt was sitting in the den, fuming, when she arrived and joined him, knowing how serious this latest offense had been in a very long line of bad behavior.

She stood in front of him, more desirable as ever. At 36, she was a MILF, the hottest mother of anybody he knew. At 5' 7", her lustrous, short and straight black hair (like a young, pixie-cut Demi, Winona or Halle) framed a very pretty, sensuous face with large hazel eyes, a wide mouth and thick lips. Her Mediterranean complected skin was like satin. She was in superb shape from workouts 5-6 times a week. Heavy 34C breasts, a tight ass and fantastic legs completed the package.

By her very nature, she exuded sensuality - without flirting or wearing slutty clothes. Not surprisingly, she was the most popular substitute teacher in the school district. His friends never stopped commenting about how hot she was, how they wanted her big lips to wrap around their cocks. How she was probably shaved and would do them all.

Janice had no boyfriends. She and Matt lived in a town where the few alleged Doms she found online at bondage sites, who lived locally, were weak wannabes. Nor did she have any girlfriends; the women she knew from her gym or the parents of Matt's schoolmates were too envious of her remarkable looks and felt threatened whenever their boyfriends or husbands were around Janice. The pity was that she had zero interest in any of those vanilla guys. So she focused all of her desires on her sexy son.

At 18, Matthew was hot as well, although between girlfriends. How could he think about girls when his MILF was always figuring new ways to expose her body and excite him? At 5'9", he wasn't tall, but his face was somewhere between cute and handsome, with sun-tinted blond streaks in his auburn hair and a great physique, with virtually no body fat and a torso chiseled by soccer and swimming.

"Don't even start with excuses," he said, glaring up at his penitent mother. She'd been taunting him flagrantly for a long time. "All I know is that after years of you screwing up, I'm sick and tired of it. It has to change now and I'm determined to make that change happen - whether you want to or not." At long last, he understood why: why she teased him, why she fleetingly exposed her body, why she paraded around in tantalizing lingerie, and exactly what she needed from him.

Janice had always known she was a bad mother. She always felt guilty and remorseful, hating her irresponsible behavior. It embarrassed her to have forgotten parent/teacher conferences and humiliated her to arrive late for a big soccer game or swim meet. She felt so bad that she would do almost anything to change, to no longer forget to buy food at the supermarket that Matthew had requested, or to no longer burn a hole in his favorite shirt when ironing it, or not to give Matthew his birthday and holiday presents a day late. But she couldn't change.

Standing in front of her son, she knew better than to apologize. "How do parents get their kids to change their bad behavior?" he asked her. It was not a rhetorical question.

"They reward them for good behavior," she said meekly, head downcast in shame.

"And what if their behavior is never good?"

She hesitated. "They get punished."

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere." He paused. "Maybe you need a series of spankings."

She wondered if it was finally beginning. "Well, your grandfather used to say that spankings were for children."

"Oh he did? Well, what did he do instead?"

"He would use his belt on me."

"Oh." Matthew was shocked. "Did it work?"

"Sort of. But I was a rebellious, headstrong teenager. So he needed to do it a lot."

"Over his lap?"

"Oh no, that's an awkward, uncomfortable position for both people. No, he'd have me lean over the back of a chair or the arm of a sofa. Or kneel on an ottoman or cushion."

"I'm waiting." The room was still except for the ticking of a clock on the mantel. Finally, she thought, after such a long time. . . it's in the family blood, including Matthew's.

"Could I make myself a drink first? Please? Or get us both a drink?"

Matthew nodded. "I'll have a beer."

She walked to the kitchen as if in slow motion, trying to contain her rising excitement. Finally, it had come to this. She wondered how far he'd go this first time. When she returned, she gave Matthew a cold can of beer and took a large gulp of her generous triple vodka on the rocks.

"Let's get started." She nodded and peeled off her suit jacket, revealing a tight, thin white blouse that clearly showed an expensive, cream-colored, lace half-bra beneath. Her areola and nipples were an incredibly dark tone: not quite black, but a charcoal gray that showed clearly through the filmy bra and thin silk blouse.

Matthew was reminded of all the times she'd cock-teased him over the past two years, wearing lewd bikinis that showed everything when she climbed out of their pool, or leaving her bathroom door open a foot so he could easily see her for the few seconds between climbing out of the shower and grabbing a towel. Or making breakfast for him on the weekend, her unclosed robe gaping open and showing the revealing baby doll beneath. Or trying on three pairs of sexy bras and French-cut panties while asking his opinion, each set more abbreviated than the one before.

She took another swallow of her cocktail, unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. All of the underwear she was wearing matched the bra: a garter belt, lace-topped stockings and tiny tight panties in the same creamy thin material. He stared at her pronounced camel-toe, the panties bulging as if about to burst.

But didn't she have to resist him? Wouldn't it look bad if she didn't at least pretend to challenge him? She couldn't acquiesce so easily; she'd have to feign reluctance. "Who put you in charge?" she asked with all the defiance she could summon.

Completely unexpectedly, Matt's right arm shot out and slapped her left breast, hard. She couldn't prevent a moan of pleasure escaping from her lips. "Is that it?" she asked in her most derisive voice. This time his left hand struck her other breast, even harder. "Ohhh," she muttered. Could he be the real thing, a natural, a fast learner?

Smiling faintly at the harsh reaction she'd elicited, Janice sauntered over to the sofa and bent over the arm, her legs spread wide. "Is this the way you want me?" she said in her most snide and contemptuous tone of voice.

"That will do, but only for starters," he said. Matthew pulled his thin, old and supple leather belt through his belt loops. "Belts are not easy to use," she said. "If you go to my bedroom closet, you'll find something leather hanging from a hook in the rear corner that's much easier. You'll have to brush aside some clothes to see it."

Matthew adjusted his hard-on and managed to get up the staircase, where he stripped off everything but his boxer shorts and went into her walk-in closet, where he found a black leather device hanging. It was a slender tawse, beautifully fashioned from heavy black leather. He hefted it and smacked it into his palm a few times. The hurt was serious. Also in the closet was a lacquered black chest. He opened the first drawer. . .

Back in the den, Janice wondered why Matthew was taking such a long time. Upon returning, he saw that she had not moved. "Now the panties," he said. For a moment, it was awfully quiet in the room, but, to his amazement, she didn't object. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband and ever so slowly pulled the tight panties over the garter straps and down her legs, revealing a magnificent, tight ass to her son. Then, surprising herself, she automatically spread her legs and lowered her head and arms onto the sofa seat, exposing her pussy (freshly shaved that morning) and asshole.

Matthew stared at his mother's thick, heavy pussy lips, already gaping. He hadn't expected her to bend over, widen her legs and reveal her spread pussy lips. Dusky in color, their dark hue contrasted with the wet pink coral of her inner lips and cunt walls but matched the gray shade ringing her dark rosebud. It seemed unreal. He realized that for years, she'd been hungering for him to take control and punish her, and that now that he was eighteen, she figured there was no need to wait any longer.

"Are you ready?" he asked hoarsely.

"Yes, Matthew. Please punish me." He thought that his first several hits were substantial, but she had almost no reaction. The olive-toned skin of her cheeks had reddened, but there was no movement, wriggling, exclamations, whimpers, groans, or begging for a halt. He realized she probably had a high tolerance to punishment. Because she'd been disciplined so much? Or simply got off on being disciplined?

So he hit harder and faster. Now she started shifting her pelvis and whimpering quietly, rubbing her inflamed ass after every blow to massage the stinging flesh, slowing down his pace. "Stop touching your ass," he ordered.

"I can't," she said. "It's an automatic reaction. You'll have to immobilize my hands." Matthew picked up his unused belt, grasped her wrists, pulled her arms forward, looped the belt around her wrists, cinched them tightly and pulled them to one of the sofa feet, tying off the belt. Janice's arms were so stretched that her heels lifted off the floor, spreading her open ass cheeks even wider.

Matthew grabbed her drink, lifted her chin and let her finish the triple vodka. When he was ready to resume, he noticed that the top of her thighs was now wet. He understood that her pussy juices were coating her legs. She was becoming excited by this punishment. She was a pain slut. Ever since he'd found "The Story of O" and a Helmut Newton photography book on the living room bookshelf, he had been reading heavily online about bondage and discipline, educating himself in the techniques, terminologies and toys.

"Did Dad ever punish you?" Silence. He hit her again, harder.

"Yes, Matthew, he did."

"How much?"

Janice was afraid to lie to him. "Two or three times a week."

"Wow. Just stuff like this?"

"No Matthew, he used many different kinds of. . . of harsher bondage and discipline."

"Is that related to the reason he left?" Janice hesitated, not sure what to say, but Matthew thought she was ignoring his question. He sliced the tawse, harder than ever, and this time into the crack between her cheeks. For the first time, his mother jerked and cried out. She didn't expect this much this fast from Matthew.

"Oh!" she shouted. Hastily, she said, "Your father wanted to do things to me that I couldn't accept." She stopped, so Matthew struck the tawse into the top of her thighs, only an inch from her heavy labia. She bucked and twisted her torso, hissing in pain. She knew he wanted details.

"He wanted me to wear his tattoos, and to get pierced." Matthew waited several seconds for more, then hit the heavy tawse twice, directly onto the long, thick and dark pussy lips. "Ahh!" she shouted, her pelvis now going into constant motion as she surreptitiously rubbed her clit against the black leather on the arm of the sofa.

Matthew no longer stopped, alternating his strikes between her dusky ring and her cunt lips, improving his aim and increasing his force with each blow. She started talking and muttering obscenities nonstop. "Yes, your bastard of a father wanted to pierce my nipples." Smack! "He wanted heavy rings in my pussy lips." Smack! "He wanted his name and the word "Slut" inked on my mound." Smack! "He wanted to pee on me."

Matthew's anger reached a crescendo as he saw his mother nearing a climax. At the end he was smashing the tip of the tawse between her inner labia and deeply into her cunt as she ground her big clit into the greasy leather.

She wondered, What if he was even better than the others in her family? When she came, she bucked and heaved and screamed with an intensity that none of his girlfriends had ever approached. Her hips lifted way up off the sofa arm and she collapsed in a sprawling posture, her heavy breathing filling the room. Matthew staggered over to the night table and drank half of his beer, wondering at what had happened in only a few minutes.

He grabbed the short dark hair at the back of her neck and pulled her sweaty face up off the sofa. Her eyes were glazed. "You understand that this is only the first punishment of many, right? I'll specify exactly what you're being disciplined for, going back years."

"Yes Matthew." He untied the belt from the sofa and sat heavily on the couch. He expected her to get up and walk out, but she was waiting, apparently wanting more. Janice had wondered if her tawsing would be the end as well.

Matt improvised. "Stand up." She slid off the sofa arm onto her knees." Matthew changed his mind and pushed the coffee table away from the couch. "Your next punishment is for failing to stand. But as long as you're on your knees, stay on them and come over here." He spread apart his knees, hoping at most for a hand job, as incredulous as that seemed.

On her knees, Janice moved to the front of the sofa, facing her son, between his legs. "Punishment is important, but it's not enough," he said. "After hurting me so much, you also have to make me feel better." He sat forward, his cock pushing against the front of his boxers, noticing her huge nipples pushing against her sweat-soaked bra. She was practically delirious with excitement, about to suck his big blunt cock for the first time.

Her wrists still bound together in front of her by Matthew's leather belt, the degraded mother raised her hands to his briefs. It took only the slightest touch for her son's broad cock head to stick out from his underwear. He moved his haunches more forward, the material of his boxers sliding backward till all seven inches were exposed. Janice was mesmerized by the sight of the thick heavy cock, as beautiful as the rest of her son's body. The craving in her eyes for cock was plain to see.

She leaned forward, grasping the base of the thick shaft and opening her wide mouth, the thick lips parting, her long tongue, coated with saliva, extending to the blunt crown. Matt was in shock. His own mother wasn't going to jerk him off, she was going to suck him off.

Janice squeezed and a pearl of pre-cum appeared at the tip of her masterful son's big cock. Finally, she was about to suck him off, to taste his fresh thick spunk at last, to draw it out of him, to have the roof of her mouth scalded by its heat, to feel his penis spasm and jerk over and over, to savor the sweet flavor as her cheeks swelled from the huge load, to prevent it from spilling, to elicit his permission to swallow, to drink the thick gunk down into her belly, leaving her swollen lips coated and grossly dripping.

"You've been showing off that hot body and cockteasing me for a couple of years in all kinds of ways. But you don't get to torment me anymore."

Matthew leaned forward on the couch and pulled his mother's bra down and off her sweaty big tits, freeing the 34Cs with their large dark aureola and massively thick and long charcoal gray nipples. He left the lacy bra tangled around her midriff, the thin straps hanging, figuring it would be humiliating to leave the bra dangling on her. Janice was well aware of how she appeared, kneeling in front of her son's cock, her body now exposed and how that would drive any teen boy crazy. But this wasn't any teen boy, this was her son.

Holding his heavy cock with one hand, Matt grabbed his neglectful mother's right tit and pulled it roughly. Janice groaned with pain and leaned forward. He placed the obscenely large nipple - thicker than a cigarette and and an inch long - at the tip of his cock and pushed the dark nipple stalk into the big pearl of pre-cum at the tip. Fascinated and ashamed, Janice watched her stiff nipple sink into the clear fluid until the hypersensitive stalk was forced into her son's cock slit. They both moaned at the same time. No man had ever done this to her before. Was he a natural? A born Master?

Grasping the base of her tit, Matthew pulled the tit flesh back till the extended nipple pulled clear of his pre-cum, dropping the precious fluid onto her thighs. He repeated the process with her left nipple, mashing her tit into his prick and smearing the pre-cum around her breast flesh.

"Now," he agreed and his mother extended her long tongue and licked the broad head. When it was saturated and dripping with her plentiful saliva, she took the head inside her lips and started pumping the shaft with her bound hands. Gripping her nipples, greasy with pre-cum, he controlled the depth and speed of the cocksucking until the debased mother was deep throating. Although Matthew had experienced many hookups and plenty of girlfriends, none had ever blown him remotely as well, as deeply or as hungrily compared to what his slutty, sweaty mother was doing.

Janice was thankful that her discipline had finally begun, her once-smooth skin showing the marks of the tawse. She realized it was fitting that a terrible mother such as she was should have been pussy-whipped to a cum, that she was now kneeling nude (except for her garter belt and stockings), her oversized nipples roughly squeezed and pulled, and being forced to suck her handsome son's gorgeous big dick till he shot his massive teen load over and over into her hot big mouth and upturned face. She accepted that they would proceed to the next in a long series of harsh abuse and humiliating punishments.

Within two minutes, the mother who was a bad parent - but a superb cocksucker - had her son's cock shooting into her mouth. She knew he had giant loads from watching him beat off secretly in his bedroom or on the patio, from finding his towels, washcloths or tissues in the morning after he'd left for school, when she'd plunged her face into the pool of cold cum and hungrily licked it up, not caring that the sticky jism was smearing across her nose, chin and cheeks, until she began microwaving his spunk, the strong odor filling the kitchen as she stood in her baby doll, voraciously lapping up the hot tasty spunk.

Her obsession for cum immediately became a morning habit. One day, oversleeping and in a hurry to get to work, she mistakenly applied her makeup before lapping up her breakfast cum. So she grabbed a spoon, ran into Matt's bedroom and scraped the massive load off his pajama pants, feeding heavy spoonfuls of the thick gunk neatly between her freshly lipsticked mouth. But, in her rush to leave for work, she forgot to leave Matt's pajamas in the same place. When he returned from school, he found them in a different place. Then he found a spoon lying in the kitchen sink, which he picked up and smelled. Sure enough, his depraved mother was eating his cum.