[This story does include instances of three bodily functions and incest, so if that is not something you want to read, stop right now. Per the title, there's spanking, too. All the characters are over 18.]
My return home from college had proved to be far more amazing than I could have ever imagined. The bad part had happened first: my mother spanked me and then supervised my use of the bathroom in the most intrusive ways. She also tried to embarrass me about having my period by discussing it in front of my brother. It was all very hard to accept since I'm already 23 and Art just turned 20.
Art, my brother, has remained close with me. I'd invited him into my bedroom later that night after Mom had gone to bed. When he had heard a buzzing sound coming out of our mother's room, however, he went into her bedroom, and she had then invited him--to get right to the point--to make love to her. This surprised him, and later it surprised me, too. But then after she fell asleep, he came back to my bedroom, and we had absolutely wonderful sex. It turned out these were his first two sexual encounters--in one night, no less, and with his mother then his sister. Nice start for him.
Life around the house was different now. Art was home from college, and I had obtained a good job and was living at home. Mom now wanted to help us by cleaning up after us and making meals. It was as if her fucking Art had changed her personality entirely. From being a bitch on wheels, she now became nice.
One day after dinner, when we had all gone into the living room to relax and talk about our day, Mom looked nervous and finally spoke.
"Susan," she began, "I behaved very badly when you first came home. It was totally wrong, and I feel sad about how I acted. I'd feel much better if you disciplined me however you decide, and that includes spanking or anything else."
To say that I was surprised was putting it mildly. On the other hand, seeing her fuck Art was not exactly something I had expected to have happen, much less to witness. I think Mom was starting to realize she wasn't getting any younger, so she now wanted to be on good terms with us.
I responded that I was pleased she had seen that she had been very hurtful toward me in her conduct since I came home. Then I added that yes, I would discipline her, if she really wanted that to happen.
She insisted that she did want me to discipline her and that if I so decided, I could punish her in front of Art or anyone else. It struck me that Art's intercourse with her had had a major impact and effect on her personality.
My mother is an attractive woman who is just starting to show the signs of middle age. She is now in her early fifties; as my father passed away years ago, she obviously is ready to find a new partner. She is about 5'6" and has a medium frame. Her hair is sandy blonde, and her figure is surprisingly good--nice 34B bust. Somehow her tits haven't become heavy and saggy.
I told my mother that yes, I would discipline her now. I asked Art how he felt about staying to observe and he indicated subtly to me that he would like to be there for this. So, I took charge and told my mother to lift her skirt, lower her panties to her knees, and stand in the corner with her hands on the top of her head.
She did a slight double-take but then proceeded calmly to do exactly what I had told her to prepare for her disciplining. I found the sight of her bottom cheeks and the hair visible between them quite entrancing. I had to get it through my head that I was going to spank this woman who had treated me so meanly so recently. I was determined to enjoy it, especially as I couldn't be certain the occasion would ever present itself again.
As I took my time getting things together, I kept an eye on my mother, standing in the humiliating position exposing her bare bottom with her panties at her knees. I stood behind her and said that I wanted her to stand with her legs well apart so that her panties would not fall any further. I left the unspoken impression that she would be punished additionally should her panties drop to her ankles.
I was walking back to get together with Art who had gone to retrieve Mom's paddle and cane. Even though I also knew where she kept a strap and even a two-fingered tawse, I decided that the paddle and cane would suffice for today's session. Later I could introduce the tawse and the strap. I was getting myself wet by contemplating the various punishments I could devise for Mom. It would take many to make up for the misery she inflicted that had taken me by surprise when I returned home.
Art returned with the paddle and cane. At my suggestion, he had also found in Mom's dresser drawer a pair of Spanx that Mom had been wearing to shape her figure. I knew that having her put those on after her spanking would be irritating both physically and psychologically.
"All right," I announced, "Helen [I decided to call her by her first name], come over here and get across my lap." When Mom walked over, showing shame across her face as she approached me, I tapped my lap, indicating she should position herself across it now. I adjusted her position and made sure her panties were still at her knees, keeping her from kicking.
Then I lectured her briefly.
"Helen," I began, "you have been very naughty in how you have treated me since I came home from college. This is now all going to change, and you will be reporting to me. You will also take orders from Art, whom I have empowered to discipline you for any misbehavior on your part which he has observed or is present to see."
I could tell that Mom was extremely nervous now. She quietly pleaded with me not to be too hard on her.
"Nonsense," I replied. "You have been totally cruel and intent on humiliating me since I came home. You deserve severe discipline and that is what you will be getting, missy."
Mom was whimpering now, but I felt between her legs, and she was quite wet.
"You're wet, missy," I said bluntly. "This must be a turn-on for you."
"No, Miss Susan," she answered quickly and fearfully. "I'm actually quite frightened and ashamed, so I'm ready for my punishment."
Before I could begin spanking her, she lost control and emitted a bubbly fart. Art had trouble not laughing.
"Making that sound was very disrespectful, Helen," I said coldly. "I should add to your punishment for that naughtiness."
"I'm sorry, Susan," she said almost in tears. "This has gotten me so frightened that I must have lost control and released some gas. I'm sorry."
"You'll be more than sorry soon, missy," I responded. "But it makes me ask you whether you need to go potty now."
"I think I will need to make a doody soon," she said shamefacedly. "I feel it inside and," she hesitated a moment, "that was why I farted."
"We'll deal with that after your disciplining," I declared. "You had better focus on holding it in until then."
I started spanking her bottom cheeks with my bare hand. I enjoyed the feeling of slapping her large buttocks and every so often I ran my finger through her legs to feel her wetness and comment on her obvious arousal.
As I spanked, her cheeks turned rosy and eventually red. She was crying out and moaning. I did have the feeling that this was exciting her and that she might have an orgasm.
I stopped spanking and told her to spread her legs as far apart as she could. Mom responded but was barely holding on over my lap. I put on a plastic glove I had on the sideboard with the punishment implements. Then I dabbed a bit of Vaseline on the fingers of the glove and slowly inserted it into Mom's dark crinkly anal opening.
"Why are you poking in there, Miss Susan?" Mom complained.
"I'm doing what is called 'checking your oil'." I answered quietly. "You said you needed to make a doody. I'm checking to see if you have a movement in there ready to emerge."
"Oh, Miss Susan," Mom cried. "This is horribly embarrassing."
"Yes, it is, Mom," I answered. "But you agreed you needed to be disciplined. In fact, you proposed it."
This quieted her for a moment, and I pushed my index finger further into her bottom-hole. I wasn't surprised to feel something solid, and I managed to pull off a small piece with my finger and pull it out.
Mom was sobbing, more from sheer embarrassment than any pain. I showed her the small brown piece I had pulled out of her rectum. She winced when she saw it and then felt the inevitable internal pressure of a bowel movement that was pressing to be excreted.
"Miss Susan, this is terribly embarrassing, but now I feel that my doody is about to come out," Mom pleaded. "Can I please go the bathroom?" She began getting up, but I pushed back onto my lap.
I picked up a bowl from the sideboard and put it on the floor. Mom saw it, realized what was in store for her, and began to cry.
I told her to stop the tears and to squat over the bowl and do her business.
She was more upset at Art's sitting across the room and watching her as she squatted over the bowl. Very soon, we both watched as a dark turd began pushing out of her anal opening. It was quite compelling to watch her squat as she was excreting a long bowel movement. It extended about eight inches and then tailed off and dropped into the bowl with a plop. Then she released a strong stream of pee following her defecation.
I thought of how in past weeks she had made me request permission to weewee or plop-plop. I was putting paid to the embarrassing situations when she had punished me.
I handed her a toilet roll and told her she could wipe her bottom. She proceeded to do just that and then I told her to show me the paper. She reluctantly held up the toilet tissue and I could see yellow stains from pee and the brown streaks on it made by her doody.
"Now you may take the bowl to the bathroom," I said, "and empty it into the toilet. Then you will come back here immediately."
She rose quickly to pick up the shameful bowl and carry it off to empty.
I must've made an impression on her because she did return. I told her she now needed to serve corner time and she protested. I told her if she didn't go back to the corner right then, I would resume the spanking, but this time with a hairbrush.
This caused her to scoot over to the corner, make sure her panties were held up at her knees, and put her hands on the top of her head as I had directed her to do when in the corner.
I made her stay in the corner for about 10 minutes. Then I presented her with Spanx I found in her dresser drawer and crisply told her to put them on. She didn't like this although I figured since she had bought the shapewear, she must've had an idea about wearing it.
When she managed to pull it up, I told her she could go to her bedroom, put on her pajamas, and I would come by to tuck her in for an early bedtime.
"You're going to keep the Spanx on in bed, too," I told her sharply, just so she didn't get any ideas about hurriedly taking them off.
