DO NOT read if you are under the age of 18. Thanks to Daddy's Princess for editing my work, the help is greatly appreciated. If you like this story, please vote. I would love any and all CONSTRUCTIVE feedback, especially if you would like to see future chapters of this story.
Let me tell you just a bit about our family. My husband and I are in our late 20's. No kids, but we have an active lifestyle. I know David appreciates my figure, which is curvy without being too much. I inherited my mother's coloring with dark auburn hair and big green eyes. We live on the east coast, but my mother lives out west. My mother comes to visit us every year around my birthday which is in May. I look forward to seeing her, as I am an only child, and we were really close when I was growing up. Nothing like this ever happened until last year...
It was at my birthday party, and everyone else had gone home. When we have parties, one of us has to stay relatively sober, as a rule. We like to avoid hassles, and it just seems prudent to have someone sober enough to deal with anything that comes up. As it was my birthday, David was the sober one, having drunk only a few beers. My mom and I were pretty well trashed. David had given me some trashy lingerie for my birthday, and he wanted me to model it. Not being shy, I said sure. I went into the bedroom, where he had laid it out on the bed earlier. It was a lacy black garter belt with matching bra, thong and stockings. I already had the "fuck me" pumps in black patent leather, so the outfit went on easily.
As I was coming out of the bedroom, I glanced in the kitchen and saw the last bottle of champagne sitting in the open cooler on the floor. I grabbed it intending to bring it with me and finish it, but my ankle twisted on the dining room carpet, and I went flying, along with the bottle. I landed on the floor, and the bottle landed at David's feet, where it popped, and made a mess all over the rug.
I got up laughing about my drunken stumbling, but when I looked up, David was not laughing. He had THE look on his face, which usually meant...but no. He would not go that far with my mother sitting in the same room. Would he?
We had played around with BDSM in our relationship quite a bit, but not in front of others. And we just had fun with it, we weren't a 24/7 couple. I was shocked to think that he would make me submit in front of my own mother. But at the same time, I knew that he had always had a liking for my mother. At 45, she was tall and slender with beautiful long auburn hair. Her most prominent features though, are her DD tits, and her full lips. And they are both natural if anyone really cares. She turns quite a few heads in public, even though she does not dress outrageously.
"Assume the position," he told me. "You have spilled the last of the champagne, a very expensive gift from my boss. You must take responsibility and be punished for being so careless."
"But, my mother," I started to say, but he cut me off.
"You know if you argue, you just make it worse," he said. "If your mom had done this, years ago, maybe you might be a little more careful today. I will only say this once more. Assume the position."
In my intoxicated state, it never occurred to me to object further. I mean, to be spanked like a little girl in front of my mother was humiliating, but I knew better than to say anything else. My mom, however, was eyeing us both curiously, not saying anything. She told me later that she kept quiet, wanting to see for herself, just how far we would go.
I bent over the dining room table, bent at the waist, legs apart about two and a half feet. My ass was sticking up, waiting and ready. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see my mom's reaction. David lazily walked over to me and rested his hand on my backside.
"You know you need this," he whispered in my ear, and then he started. His first slaps were gentle; to break me in, but soon he was smacking me hard, leaving red prints on my quaking cheeks. Over and over he spanked me, sometimes repeatedly in the same spot. That really hurt, and I had trouble staying in one place. What I really wanted to do was grab my ass and rub, but I knew that if I did, he would tie me in place and start the punishment all over again, usually with a few extra whacks with a spatula for good measure. I was really smarting and starting to shake as he continued, harder now. My ass was on fire, and he was relentlessly making me dance in place, sobbing and begging him to stop.
Unexpectedly, he did stop. Telling me to stay in position, he backed up to admire his handiwork. He unhooked my bra and slowly peeled my thong panties down over my ass, making sure that my pussy and asshole were fully exposed for whatever he had in mind next. He left them lewdly bunched on my thighs like a slut in heat.
"Come here Vivian," he said to my mother.
I stayed bent over, my eyes shut tight from humiliation. I could hear her come up behind me, and he started talking to her in a stern tone of voice.
"See how she cries and whines? This is your fault. She never had a good hard spanking when she was a child, and just look at how she takes it. Here," he said. I heard a swoosh as he took off his belt and handed it to her "Do your duty as a mother and punish your daughter. Give it too her good and hard. Give her something to cry about."
I did not see the look on her face, but she must have liked the idea because without further comment I heard the belt whistling through the air and felt its crack on my already sore backside. I jumped, but it was not nearly as hard as David swung, so I was somewhat relieved. She swung the belt at me a few more times, hitting me randomly on my butt cheeks. I squirmed some, and moaned.
David jumped in. "Not like that, I said do it HARD!" he told her.
She continued to spank me with the belt, a little more forceful about it now. I was crying, tears streaming down my face. Thinking back on it, I was probably crying more out of mortification than pain. Here I was, naked from the waist down and fully spread. My ass was red from beating, I was panting for breath, and I am sure that you wouldn't have to look too hard to see that my pussy was sopping wet from all the attention. That just added to my shame. My own mother was spanking me with a belt while my husband watched. Just the mental image that came into my mind at the picture we must be making sent another jolt through me as more juice leaked from my twat.
My reverie was broken by David jumping up and snatching the belt from my mother's grasp.
"Maybe you need a demonstration on how hard a belt has to be swung to really hurt," he growled low to my mom.
I opened my eyes to look at the exchange between the two of them. My husband was standing behind her, rubbing the belt across her backside. She had her eyes closed and her breathing was heavy. As I watched, he lifted up the back of her skirt and lightly tapped her panty clad cheeks with the wide strip of leather before bringing the belt around into her crack and rubbing her pussy with it. She parted her thighs slightly to allow him better access. Suddenly he brought the flat of the belt directly up and slapped her pussy through her panties. She twitched and cried out, but allowed him to continue to caress her. Suddenly he noticed me.
"Angel, go stand in the corner, you are still being punished, so don't think that you are off the hook."
I went, standing in the corner with my red ass cheeks glaring out into the room and my hands behind my head. I chose a corner that conveniently had a mirror so that I could see what was going on behind me. It wasn't my usual corner and I was afraid of being punished for that, but David wasn't focused on me anymore.
He turned back to my mother. "Get undressed. If I am going to teach you proper punishment, you are going to be properly naked."
She complied quickly, hoping to appease his anger. I watched in the mirror as she undid her buttons and pulled the blouse down to her waist. Still wearing a bra, she continued, taking off her skirt and shoes. The angle that I was watching put her in profile, while my husband was facing away from me. This made me feel more secure in my voyeurism. At taking off her bra and panties, she stopped, the pleading look in her eyes directed towards David.
"All of it," he told her. "If your daughter can face it, then so can you."
She nodded, and continued. When she peeled her bra off of her tits, the nipples sprang up and I was salivating to suck and play with them. Then off came the panties, and her thick bush sprang into view. It was as thick and auburn as the hair on her head. She had trimmed it so that most of her lips were bare but she left a wide patch above her slit. I knew that David hated pubic hair. If this continued much further, he would require her to shave it all off and go bald like he did me. It was the one thing that I did for him every day.
She stood, and I think automatically spread her legs and put her hands behind her neck to thrust her breasts out to him. I didn't register her compliance at first, but then again I was still feeling the effects of the champagne and hormone cocktail that was singing through my veins. Only later did I begin to suspect that she had done this before.
He reached out and started stroking her outer thighs, sometimes slapping lightly with the back of his hand. He moved on to stroke up and down her entire thigh, slowly working his way up and into her pussy lips. He used two fingers to pinch and stroke her slit from front to back. He slid one finger in between her lips and into her pussy, checking for wetness. He must have liked what he felt, because his smile was low and wide. I knew then that she was his, just as I was, and there was no turning back now.
He removed his fingers and told her to assume the same position as I had earlier. She bent over the table just as I had and spread her legs to allow him full access. I was paying attention to the scene in the mirror when David looked around at me. I met his eyes with dread, and his grin widened, if that were possible.