S'mothering

(All characters are over eighteen.)

*

Cynthia Passmore slapped her daughter Kelly a hard one on the seat of her faded jeans. It was what Cynthia liked to call an attention getter. Surprise was the key element.

"Oww-ww!" Kelly yelped, but that was all.

"Stand there and don't you dare move!" Cynthia said.

Kelly stood obediently by the couch in the living room with her head down, chastened, attractive, worried.

"Where's your brother?" Cynthia demanded.

Kelly shrugged unhappily. She didn't know. She wiped the palms of her hands nervously on her jeans. Her blonde hair hung down about her blushing face.

"Martin?"

Cynthia's voice echoed through the house. She peered up the stairs and heard footsteps.

"Down here," she said as soon as Martin's good looking but troubled face appeared on the landing.

His step faltered but he came down the stairs to where his mother waited. Cynthia fixed him with a cold, appraising gaze.

"Living room," she said.

He lowered his eyes and as he stepped past her she turned after him and swatted his bottom open handed.

He didn't look back but he did walk faster and Cynthia followed him briskly two steps behind.

She made them stand together side by side, a sorry looking pair. They hung their heads and avoided her angry gaze as Cynthia drew herself up before them.

"Who took the car?" she said, glancing from one to the other. "Which one of you was it?"

Neither of them spoke. They fidgeted uncomfortably and she watched their eyes looking for a clue but both stared intently at the floor.

She stepped closer to where they had to look at her. Martin looked at her nervously. Kelly met her gaze then quickly looked away.

Cynthia waited but the silence only grew longer.

"One of you used the car, uninsured, without permission. You didn't even have the brains to replace the gas you used." She raised her voice and leaned closer. "How many times do I have to tell you? You can't be that stupid. What if you'd had an accident? You do not use the car, understand?"

Kelly's lips were drawn tight. She was holding herself stiffly. Martin swallowed. He held her gaze until Cynthia, breathing hard, stared at him so long and hard he was forced to look away.

Kelly was eighteen and a half, the youngest and most likely to crack under pressure and Cynthia transferred her gaze to her. Her daughter's breasts were full for a young woman with such an enviably narrow waist. The top halves showed, pushed up and together in the neck of her low cut top. They rose and fell with her breathing as Cynthia studied her apprehensive expression.

"Do you have any idea how much it irritates me when my explicit instructions are ignored?" Cynthia said quietly.

Kelly compressed her lips even tighter and nodded very slowly.

"And you fully understand the risk of disobeying my instructions and accept the consequences of your actions?" Cynthia said.

Again Kelly nodded. She was breathing faster. Her hair hung down over her eyes. She had trouble holding her mother's gaze as Cynthia leaned even closer.

Beside her Cynthia was aware of Martin's increasing agitation. She deliberately ignored him.

"So is there anything you want to say now? Anything I should take into consideration before I decide what I'm going to do about this business? Any mitigating factors you'd like to bring to my attention?"

Cynthia stared intently into her daughter's eyes and waited. Kelly trembled but she didn't speak and finally she shook her head with a quick decisive motion.

"No?" Cynthia said. She raised her eyebrows and glanced at Martin and caught him looking at her but he quickly looked away.

She nodded and sighed then stepped back and looked thoughtfully at the two of them.

"In that case you give me little choice..."

She saw their reactions. First they glanced quickly, uncomfortably at each other, then Martin dropped his head while Kelly did the opposite. She raised her chin and looked up at the ceiling. Her lips drew down. Her shoulders shook as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"And since I don't know which of you took the car and neither of you seems inclined to tell me, I think we'll do this a little differently today."

Cynthia turned away and sat down in one of the armchairs. She smoothed her short, black skirt and looked from her son to her daughter and smiled coldly.

"Who wants to spank who, first?" she said.

Kelly and Martin looked at her in sudden unhappy surprise.

"Naturally, you'll both get a turn," she explained. "I've decided that, since for all I know you're both as guilty as each other, it's only fair that we do it this way." She fixed them each in turn with a victorious, satisfied glint in her eyes. "Martin? Kelly? One of you sits, one of you spanks, then you swap. Think of it like a game. If you want to behave like children and wilfully disobey my orders this is how we'll deal with it in future." Cynthia crossed her legs and waited. "Who's first?"

When they were over their first, stunned reaction to her words she saw them glance uncomfortably at each other. Kelly blushed deep red. Martin frowned and looked equally troubled. He scratched his jaw absently.

"Mom, you can't make us..." Kelly began to protest.

"This isn't right," Martin cut in, interrupting her.

Cynthia merely smiled as they made a fuss, as they blushed and looked uncomfortable, while they complained and appealed to her. Kelly folded her arms and looked sullen and pretty at the same time. Martin gesticulated then put his hands on his hips. They were both breathing fast, both staring at her from their equally red, disbelieving faces.

Cynthia's smile faded as she waited for them to finish. Martin was almost twenty, a year older than his sister. He looked the most outraged and the most embarassed. He was slim but athletic with a flat stomach. His eyes shone with resentment. Cynthia didn't mind that, it was his stance she took offence at, the guarded hostility in his stare.

"Kelly, sit down on the couch," Cynthia directed sharply. She held Martin's gaze as Kelly hesitantly moved to do as she'd been told. Martin looked suddenly lonely and less sure of himself standing there alone.

Kelly sat stiffly on the couch. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Cynthia directed all the power of her authority at Martin.

"This IS going to happen," she told him firmly. "If you don't co-operate I'll find a way to make you co-operate. Believe me, I can spank a lot harder than Kelly."

Martin set his jaw defiantly. His eyes blazed but she held his gaze. He shook his head but she saw the fight going out of him and she knew she'd won.

"Kelly, sit back a little more," she said.

She switched her gaze to Martin. His expression had changed. He breathed quickly. His eyes seemed very bright against the deep, red blush that had risen to his cheeks.

Cynthia nodded to him and he looked at his sister where she sat waiting prettily, tense and apprehensive on the couch.

Martin moved forward with obvious reluctance and then in a sudden display of petulance he seemed to almost throw himself across his sister's knees. His upper body lay on the couch, his face pressed against the cushions where no one could look at him.

Kelly looked apalled. There was a hurt and wounded look in her attractive eyes. Her breasts rose and fell as she looked down reluctantly at her brother's bottom.

Cynthia felt her heart beat quicken. Martin's jeans were tight. His bottom was round, tight looking. She caught Kelly's gaze.

"I think you can start now," she said.

It was obvious Kelly didn't want to do it. Her fine blonde hair hung down about her shoulders and half concealed her face. Her expression reflected her distaste.

Cynthia ignored the silent appeal in her eyes. She watched her gingerly raise her hand, her fingers splayed. She brought it down with a look of attractive displeasure. Ineptly, without any force.

The sound it made was light, barely heard across the room where Cynthia sat watching.

Kelly groaned with reluctance and spanked Martin again.

"Do it harder," Cynthia said.

"I can't!" Kelly protested.

"You heard what I said just now. If you don't do it properly, I will."

"I've never done it before!"

"Harder," Cynthia insisted. She watched intently and moved to the edge of her seat and squeezed her thighs together.

Kelly pouted attractively. Her brow was wrinkled. Her breasts shook as she brought her hand down harder.

Cynthia could feel herself becoming aroused. Martin's pert bottom jerked a little every time Kelly's hand made contact.

"Both cheeks," Cynthia said, staring, anticipating the moment of impact, breathing faster.

"Mo-om.." Kelly complained. She raised her arm higher and brought her hand down harder.

The sound was louder. Martin gasped and pressed his face deeper into the cushions and Cynthia rocked her hips imperceptibly against the firm padded edge of the seat beneath her.

Kelly's hand rose and fell faster and faster. The strap of her top slipped from one shoulder to reveal one lacy cup of her sexy red bra. Her hair flew.

Martin was beginning to writh against her. Cynthia wet her lips distractedly and Kelly suddenly sobbed and covered her face with her hands.

Her shoulders shook in silence. Martin didn't move.

It took a moment for Cynthia to compose herself. She drew a deep breath.

"Now change places," she said a little breathlessly. "Martin, stand up."

He was slow to move. When he raised his head his face was bright red. His hair was disarrayed and his white T-shirt had pulled out of his jeans. He didn't look at his mother but she saw the bulge of his erection showing through his jeans.

Kelly still sat with her hands covering her face. She was moving her head slowly from side to side.

"Kelly, get up," Cynthia said.

Martin stood over his sister, the bulge in his jeans clearly noticeable.

"Kelly.." Cynthia repeated.

Her daughter drew a deep, shuddering breath and slowly lowered her hands. Cynthia saw her gaze fall on the front of Martin's jeans. She stared then turned quickly, red-faced to her mother.

"Stand up. Let Martin sit down," Cynthia said.

Kelly rose slowly, dejectedly, and Cynthia watched them silently change places.

Martin glanced up at his sister as Kelly bent over him. He looked acutely uncomfortable as she settled herself across his knees. Cynthia saw the way he looked at Kelly's shapely bottom. Her jeans were very tight, faded almost white where the fullest part of her cheeks stretched the material taut. Martin raised his eyes briefly and glanced guiltily at his mother. He wiped his hands slowly on the front of his T-shirt. His lips were slightly parted.

Cynthia clasped her hands before her. Her elbows rested on her thighs and she moved her hips cautiously as she nodded for him to start.

Martin looked down again at Kelly's bottom. He moved his left hand to her hip to hold her and wet his lips then drew his lower lip between his teeth.

Cynthia could hear him breathing slowly and evenly. She leaned forward as he raised his hand.

The sound was loud when it fell. Kelly's bottom shook attractively. She raised one foot against the pain. He spanked her again, this time on the other cheek. Kelly gasped. Her whole body jerked. Martin sent his mother a hot, uncertain glance and Cynthia nodded slowly, approvingly.

She tensed her thighs as he raised his hand and looked down at what he was doing. Cynthia found herself holding her breath.

Martin spanked his sister slowly and deliberately. His movements were stiff, almost robotic. His hand rose and fell, unhurried, and the sound was very loud. Kelly squirmed but she was unable to avoid his hand.

Cynthia watched her daughter press her face deeper into the cushions on the couch. She saw the bones in her hand where she gripped the seat beside her.

Kelly began to moan, the sound muffled by the cushions, while Martin stared woodenly at his sister's writhing bottom.

Cynthia felt a warm flush rise to her face as Martin stopped. He was breathing hard. His hand was raised for another spank but she saw him hesitate. Instead of spanking his sister again he spread his fingers and gently caressed Kelly's bottom. Kelly slowly raised her head from the couch.

Martin absently moved his hand over both shapely cheeks. Cynthia watched, her lips slightly parted, until he suddenly seemed to realise what he was doing. He jerked his head to look at her and snatched his hand away at the same time. They looked at each other. His eyes were bright and staring and Cynthia felt the hot intensity of his gaze.

She nodded gently and Martin frowned. He looked at Kelly's bottom again then slowly raised his eyes to stare at his mother with a puzzled expression.

It was suddenly very quiet there with only the sound of their breathing gradually slowing. Martin stared at Cynthia a moment longer then almost imperceptibly shook his head.

Cynthia narrowed her lips and drew a deep breath. She held his gaze a moment longer then spoke.

"Stand up, both of you."

Kelly moved slowly, as if she was stiff. Her hair hid her face. Her shoulders hitched once. She didn't look at anyone but stood before the couch with her head bowed.

Martin's erection showed stiffly through his jeans. He lowered his eyes self consciously as he stood up, then he clasped his hands loosely together and held them before him to try and hide the bulge in his jeans.

Cynthia looked at them both thoughtfully. They looked equally ashamed, chastened and uncomfortable. They stared at a place on the carpet midway between the couch and where she sat. Her face felt hot, she could feel her lungs short of air, filling and emptying too fast. She couldn't seem to control her breathing and her lips were dry.

"Now both of you, take off your clothes," she said quietly. She wet her lips. Her clasped hands moved against each other in her lap. She held her knees tightly together.

Kelly's shoulders dropped. She swayed. Her lips narrowed but she didn't raise her head. Martin drew a long, deep breath and looked across the room to meet his mother's gaze.

"Take your clothes off, now," Cynthia said, staring at him, unblinking.

"Mom, please..." Kelly's voice was a plaintive, desperate whisper. Her face was flushed, the upper swells of her breasts rose and fell.

"Do it!" Cynthia snapped. She realised her clasped hands were pressing harder between her thighs and she made herself relax them.

Martin slowly shook his head but he gathered up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Cynthia watched intently, perched on the very edge of the armchair, tensing and relaxing her thighs. Her breathing became more ragged.

Embarassed and reluctant, Martin and Kelly undressed slowly. They turned away from each other and lowered their jeans at the same time. Both of them were slim and lithe. Kelly wore red panties that matched her bra. Martin's erection thrust stiffly against his boxers.

Cynthia watched Kelly unhook her bra and take it off. Her bare breasts were full and needed no support. She could have been a model. Her nipples were small and hard and her breasts swayed gently as she moved. Her head was bowed as she hooked her fingers into her panties and drew them down.

Martin's cock thrust stiffly before him as he stepped out of his boxers. It was slim and long and swayed as he moved.

When they were naked they both turned reluctantly towards their mother, their heads bowed in shame, their bodies young and flawless exposed to her appraising gaze.

Kelly raised her head. She stared at a point somewhere on the far wall and held herself stiffly, her face bright red, staring at the wall as if by doing so she could ignore the fact that she was naked. Her pubic hair had been shaved to a pencil thin line. Her stomach was taut, her hips slim, her breasts full. She breathed rapidly with her lips slightly parted. Her blonde hair was messy.

Beside her Martin stood with his shoulders hunched and drawn in. His hands loosely covered his erection. The veins in his hands were swollen with blood and showed through his skin. His chest and arms were lightly muscled. His nipples were flat. There was no hair on his chest.

Cynthia sat, unable to move, for long moments. Her stomach ached with tension. Her pussy throbbed and tingled.

She stood up slowly and her legs felt weak. Martin and Kelly avoided her eyes.

"Put your hands by your side," she told Martin breathlessly.

Slowly, reluctantly, he moved his hands. His exposed cock jutted before him, finely veined, uncut, the swollen purple head showing slightly. His cock moved almost imperceptibly, in time with his heartbeat.

Cynthia stared at it, thrusting arrogantly from its nest of fine, dark hair.

"Turn and face each other," she said, thickly.

They moved with painful slowness, a quarter turn. She saw their acute embarassment. Their eyes met then they both looked away, flustered.

As she approached them she could hear their breathing. She could smell the deodorants they'd used and their own, familiar scents.

Without speaking she took Martin's unresisting hands and placed them over Kelly's breasts, rested them there loosely, trembling, his fingers splayed to accomodate her fullness. She took Kelly's soft, hot hands and moved them and held them either side of her brother's stiff and straining cock.

Kelly's lips twisted. She closed her eyes but her hands stayed where she'd placed them when Cynthia stepped back.

Martin stared over his sister's shoulder at the corner of the room. His jaw set, a nerve twitched regularly in his cheek. Slowly, his fingers closed around her breasts as he squeezed them.

Cynthia walked slowly around them as they stood unmoving, tense, breathing fast, trembling, a naked sculpture.

She paused beside Kelly to gently brush her daughter's hair back from her attractive, frozen face. She trailed a hand over Martin's bottom as she passed behind him. She saw how Kelly's cupped hands trembled. A light sheen of perspiration glistened on Martin's forehead. She spanked Kelly as she walked behind her. Kelly gasped in surprise. Cynthia spanked Martin as she completed another circle. His hips jerked and his cock slipped from Kelly's hands.

"Hold him," Cynthia said.

Kelly moaned. She trembled and without looking down slowly and tentatively recaptured his cock.

Cynthia met Martin's gaze as he turned his head and glared at her. His nostrils flared as he breathed rapidly.

The veins stood out in his neck. His whole body was tense and she glimpsed again what might have the smallest hint of a challenge in his eyes.

Without breaking eye contact Cynthia moved behind Kelly while Martin slowly turned his head to follow her. Still watching him she reached around her daughter and put her hands over his where he cupped Kelly's breasts. Martin's expression grew more intense as Cynthia used both their hands to manipulate Kelly's breasts.

Kelly made a small choked sound in her throat. Her shoulders shook. Cynthia moved Martin's hands, she helped him lift his sister's breasts, coerced him into squeezing them harder, then guided his trembling hands to push them together.

Martin lowered his eyes to watch what they were doing as Kelly stood between them panting, submitting, frozen unmoving.

Cynthia heard Martin's breath catch in his throat. His face darkened with blood. She saw a sudden disconcerted, stricken look in his eyes and then he grimaced.

Kelly moaned. Her body jerked from the waist. Martin's face became taut. The veins showed thickly in his neck and his hips jerked powerfully. A low, animal groan escaped through his suddenly clenched teeth. His hips jerked again and he sucked air through his teeth. His mouth opened and his eyes widened.

Kelly staggered as if her knees were suddenly weak. Only then did Cynthia take her eyes from Martin.