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Degradation

By: Gethelred



Right now, I want to be degraded. 

I want you to come to me, fresh from sex with him, and to shove it in my face. I want you to brag about him, about how big he is, about how he compares favourably. I want you to make me jealous of his ownership, of his every caress on your skin, even though you're not mine. 

Even more than that, I want you to force me beyond my morals, until I spring up and take you like you need me to.

I want you to hate how I make you feel, even as you scream my name. Hate how you return to me, when we fight and you can't stand to be in the same room as I am. Hate how, not too much later, you are on you knees in the shower, my cock down your throat, or I am between your legs, returning the favour. The water isn't soothing; in fact, frequently it's scalding, but neither of us notice. For me, it's just another burn on my heart.

I want to feel truly degraded, to feel you sink down, slowly, to my level, demean yourself, by being with me, your body sinking in actuality as I rise to meet you. To feel your anger, your disgust, your arousal, as you impale down onto my cock, then to watch as you erupt in complete, guilty ecstasy, then slap me across the face for your- and mine- weakness. I want you to take me in his bed, in his house, near his work. I want to be the other man, the one he never knows about. I don't care about you; don't love you at all. I hate you.

I'm sure you remember, when we first met; I watched on, as your boyfriend and you had a very public argument; how you fought, in the bar, and he gave up, leaving you there. I remember how you tossed your hair, how pretended that it meant nothing to you, how your eyes flashed with angry tears.

I remember, hitting on you, knowing you were taken, and hating both myself for doing it and you for being so receptive. I hate the memory of how good it was, fucking you senseless in the rest rooms after he left, when you told him to. When you screamed his name, as I was inches into you, and I came within you, no condom or protection.

I'm sure you hated me even then. God knows, you loved your boyfriend; you were crying as you left me, naked and fulfilled, in that tiny space. But you called, almost the next day. You came into that bar, my bar, and asked for more than a drink; how you tried to be nice, to be cool, until I told you to drop the bullshit. 

But now, I want us to fight, and keep fighting until we're both breathless, and you scratch my face, and then I kiss you. Normal people have angry sex; ours goes beyond that description. We are ruinous, apocalyptic, abaddonic; there are not words to describe our personal disaster.

You hit me, even as you pull me closer and bruise my neck with your teeth. My hands are holding you down, my fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to bruise, as they clench around me, your heels hammering into my buttocks. I can't decide if your moans are from arousal or pain, then decide I don't care. 

You scream the word bastard, as you tear open the skin on my back with your nails, as I enter your body, your thighs parting willingly, invitingly. You bite down, on my neck; earlier on, in our hateful relationship, you almost bit my ear off. I just know you've broken the skin. That's fine.

My thrusts are sporadic, as you fight me still; your hips buck, high enough to keep me sheathed within you fully, as I raise up to push down. Not that it matters, though; it only deepens my thrusts.

You pull my hair, ripping my head back as you bring your other palm across, slapping me hard. I see satisfaction in your eyes, and I growl.

You shiver; I feel it, rippling through your body and along into mine. I pin you arms above your head, and withdraw. You whimper as I turn you over, bringing your knees in underneath you.

Tell me you're my whore. Tell me how bad I am, making you serve me, making you my slave; even worse, make me say the same. I take you hard, harder than I did from the other position, as hard as I ever could. I release your arms, pinning you with my body, my own teeth clamped down onto the side of your neck; I know that'll leave a mark. You thrash, and you cry, and I no longer have any doubt why you are crying; your body squeezes my cock, and your hand runs underneath you, rubbing as your forefinger and thumb tighten around my base.

You jack me, as I hold within you. I love it; have always loved it. You whisper, how you need me, hate me, wish I was dead. How you despise me, how you love my cock. How you wish, as much as you possibly could, that your boyfriend was responsible for how you feel right now. That he could be like me, that he was like me; that he could hate you.

I wish it was him, too, I tell you, as I come.

Degradation



We had played at clubs, dungeons before, so tonight was going to be much or the same, Mistress would beat me into sunspace and I would be in heaven. Only, in reality, she had something a bit different in mind tonight. 

We had on our street clothes, but she brought her leather corset and boots, the latex panties she likes and usual toys. As for me, I have my usual attire as well, of course, my birthday suit. Once there, we chatted with friends and had a drink, then we went to change.

After meeting back up in the play area in our "outfits", she put a mask on me, that limited my field of view, but not my sight completely. Then she set out to adjourn me in degrading words on her canvas, words like Slut, blow job, take me, whore, big cock here, guess where that was written. I of course, had no idea what was written, but she used my face, forehead, back and sides and my lower back and ass.

Once she had me covered in words to her liking, she tied me to a padded metal horse, she liked this one over the heavy wooden one, as the more compact structure meant more access to various parts of my body. Once secured, she whispered into my ear that tonight was going to be different, that tonight, she was going to loan out her property to some friends, she said I was going to have the time of my life. Tonight I would learn to be totally used. She said she wouldn't tell me who, but that they would do what they wanted, it may mean they would be fucking me, making me suck them? Who knows. I was reminded of my safe word, my name, they would not be using my name tonight, but I would be going by one of or all of the words written on me. One final check to be sure I was ok, this was the last time I would see those caring eyes again tonight. 

It was then I heard a group of people talking nearby, I hadn't noticed before, it was then I thought about myself, tied up in this vulnerable position, straddling the framework, legs tied down on either side, chest resting on the padded surface, head, face exposed on one end and my ass on the other, my cock and balls hanging down in a notched cut away with a collection container below that.

The voices seemed clearer, or louder to me, not sure which, my senses waking up and on high alert. I could make out numerous different people, though I couldn't tell who, many women, even a couple of male voices, I began to get nervous with that, we had talked about other men, but I was very reluctant, I have no desire to be with other men, no fantasies of it either. I began to relax a bit as I thought, well, I have my safe word if it comes to that

Soon ,the group approached me, touching me, caressing me, it was then I noticed a couple of women in front of me had on dildos, it looked like feel doe type as I didn't notice any straps. As one came up to my face, she said " open up whore, time to suck my dick, no holding back, I hear you can suck a mean dick", " get to it". So I did, taking her into my mouth and began relaxing my jaw as she rammed into me, someone behind me was lubing up my ass and getting me opened up. I heard a woman say " look at this fine ass, I'm going to love tearing this bitch up". 

As the first woman was entering my ass, she slapped it hard and said the words on my back were right, I was a slut. I continued sucking the cock in my mouth as my ass was being pounded. The scene was repeated several times as the women switched roles. I heard but didn't see a few folks gathered at the perimeter of the play area, watching me get used, this only made me even more excited, knowing others were watching me get fucked and used by the group.

As my ass was repeatedly fucked, my prostate was being stimulated beyond belief, making my cock leak like crazy, filling up the container below. The fucking continued as did the assault on my face, my jaw sore, willing myself to continue. As the fucking continued and the gals switching off, I felt something different, it was a cock that was softer somehow, but like the others it continued to fuck me until soon, I heard a male grunt as it/ he came. It was then I realize I was just fucked by a guy, I felt immediate shame and humiliation at the realization a guy just fucked me and came in me. As I thought about it, I also realized my own cock was finishing cumming as well. The humiliation grew as my mistress commented on it loud enough for everyone to hear. It was then the guy pulled out of my ass and wrote "Cum", above the word slut, he then went over and replaced the fake dildo in my mouth with his and ordered me to clean it. I now felt lower than low at the thought of ATM with a real cock, that I was now sucking clean. 

As the women and man finished using me, my Mistress untied me and retrieved the container, she then had me kneel in front of her and drink everything in the container, which of course I did. In full view of everyone that fucked me and the ones watching, I drank every bit as ordered. I've never felt so humiliated and degraded and, happy.



Degradation & Redemption Act 01



This story contains elements of gerontophilia, BDSM, incest, blackmail and reluctance. If you are offended by any of these issues, please read no further. Everyone in this story is aged over 18.

I should also like to thank Hatsuda for his support and editorial expertise.




"I really don't know why we agreed to take this monstrosity from your grandmother, Drew. It's an eyesore and just clutters up the house." My mother was voicing an old frustration over a pseudo-antique desk inherited, indirectly from her father, my now deceased grandfather.

I had tended to keep out of this issue, but realised that I might be able to use it. "Mum, if you really don't want it around, I'll take it to house my PC and other assorted junk."

"Done", said my mother enthusiastically, and after we'd dismantled it as far as possible, we both manoeuvred it into a convenient corner of my room.

I sat looking at the collection of drawers, desk-tops and other paraphernalia and was puzzled by an apparent inconsistency in the sizes. There seemed to be a part of the desk that hadn't been dismantled but I couldn't account for its dimensions. So I rolled around on the floor under the desk and saw what appeared to be a hidden drawer. Feeling around its edges, there was a recessed lever which, when pushed, opened the drawer with a click. To start with, this was just an amusement but reaching in, I discovered a large brown envelope addressed to my grandmother. This, in turn contained a packet of papers that looked potentially very interesting indeed. I closed the drawer and opened up the large brown envelope.

As I scanned the documents, to say that I was amazed would be the understatement of the century. There were a dozen or so letters between my grandmother, Olivia Delahunty and Rev John Prendergast. I soon discovered that these were not just ordinary letters but extremely passionate and very graphic love letters in both directions. A quick calculation told me that they would have been written within two years of my grandparents' marriage. In addition, there were two or three photographs of Olivia in what could only be called slutty poses, hot enough today but unbelievably scandalous thirty years ago.

This was very heavy stuff, the more so when I suddenly remembered that Rev John Prendergast had recently been appointed suffragan bishop of the central province.

"Well, well, well, grandmother," I mused to myself, "you have been a very naughty girl. The question is, what am I going to do about it?" 

A few words about our family might not go amiss here. My maternal grandfather, Alex Delahunty, made a great deal of money in the late 1960s and early 1970s, mainly, I gathered from speculation on the stock exchange. My maternal grandmother, Olivia came from "old money", based on wool growing. She was a quite remarkable woman, strong but arrogant, certain of her own views and never afraid to voice them. Olivia never suffered fools gladly and could be quite caustic if challenged. Among other things, she hated country life and quickly sank her claws into Alex when he was invited to her parents' place at Upson Downs for a visit. They were married when she was only nineteen, and I understood later that her parents breathed a sigh of relief when she left.

My mother, Beth, was the oldest child; the oldest daughter, who got herself pregnant by my father when she was only seventeen. I understood that this caused near catastrophic family conflict, with Olivia demanding that the pregnancy be terminated. I was remarkably grateful that that didn't happen because I was the result.

My father was a hard man. Hard living, demanding of his family and ultimately, hard dying. He ran his car into a tree on a country road, travelling far too fast, with way too much booze in his system. I suspected that it might have been suicide as his business was not travelling too well, but it could never be proved, and substantial insurance policies were paid out to mum. Mum was something of an enigma to me. Very much the obedient little wife and homemaker, I nevertheless wondered how much real love there was between my parents. After my father's death, mum seemed to be increasingly uncertain about herself and regularly turned to me for advice, sometimes about what I thought were quite insignificant things. Without dad's forceful direction, she seemed lost.

I am Drew, my parents' only child, twenty years old, and taking a year out of university after a serious illness earlier in the year. I have been studying IT, and did well in the first year. Now I'm spending a lot of time just bumming around and working on assorted computer projects. As part of my rehabilitation, I keep myself fit in regular gym sessions and cross-country running. I've got a pretty good opinion of myself, although in retrospect, I'm not at all sure that it was justified.

After my amazing discovery, I thought for a long time about the implications of the letters, and then a thought struck me like a bolt of lightning. The dates on the letters bracketed a date exactly nine months before my mother's date of birth. Was it possible, I thought, that I was actually the grandson of the Reverend John Prendergast? It would certainly solve a few family riddles; why the man I had always believed to be my grandfather had been so hard on my mother and generally quite distant from her? Why was my mother so physically unlike her father, and her mother for that matter? I hurriedly sought out a photo of the reverend gentleman, taken at the time of his elevation to the bishopric, and I could detect something of a family likeness to my mother. Not compelling evidence, perhaps, but maybe a place to start.

My thoughts became increasingly salacious and ruthless. It wasn't that my grandmother was the sort of woman portrayed in the usual slutty magazines, far from it. She was now aged 57, tall with a statuesque bearing, elegant and graceful with quite square shoulders that emphasized well-developed breasts. She had thick silver hair that fell down in waves below her shoulders and brilliant blue eyes, which were usually as hard as stone. She tended to camouflage her generous mouth with limiting lipstick, but she was always immaculately groomed, made up and dressed. A superficially highly attractive package, but with a heart as cold as a witches kiss. 

To my amazement, I started growing an erection just thinking about my grandmother in the sorts of positions shown in the photos, and the potential for me to recreate some of these scenarios. I had always tended to avoid her wherever possible as we grated on each other, and I almost always came off worst. Now, though, the tables were turning, and I knew I had the leverage to make her do my bidding. The thought of that bidding kept me hard and gave me opportunities for highly satisfying masturbation.

One problem was that I somehow had to find an excuse to visit grandmother; mum was unlikely to be convinced if I just turned round and said, "Hey, mum, I'm off to visit grandmother." Her suspicions would be aroused immediately.

Fate intervened a week or so later when mum caught me playing games on my PC, saying, "Drew, if you haven't got anything better to do, your grandmother needs a hand to move some furniture."

My heart leapt, but I didn't want to appear too enthusiastic. "God, mum, do I have to visit the ice maiden? I know she doesn't like me and we always niggle at each other."

"Look, Drew, she doesn't ask too often, and if it keeps her from nagging me, you will be doing me a favour, too."

"Okay, mum; look, just out of interest, is it my imagination, or is grandmother getting worse; getting more severe, more aloof, more—I don't know, more bloody difficult?"

Mum sighed. "I don't think it's your imagination, Drew. She's become more withdrawn and more selfish over the last few years; it seems to have been a gradual process."

"I see. Oh well mum, let her know I can go over on Saturday afternoon around 1.00, and I'll do whatever needs doing," I consented, "Plus some," I thought to myself.

It was now Thursday and I had some arrangements to make. First and foremost, I visited a highly specialised store in one of the seedier parts of the city. It catered to less than conventional physical appetites and I was able to purchase a range of items with very specific purposes. These I packed in a sports bag and kept it in the boot of my car.

At 1.00 precisely on Saturday afternoon, I presented myself at grandmother's house, a rather gloomy old Victorian place in the inner suburbs, surrounded by trees and probably worth a fortune in the current real estate market. Grandmother opened the door, looking her usual frigid self and reluctantly admitted me. 

"Oh, it's you. Well, come in and let's get this business finished as soon as possible." I brought in my sports bag, saying there were one or two things there that might be useful. She sniffed and led me to a room at the back of the house looking out onto the service area. "All the furniture in here needs to go into the large shed on the other side of the area," she stated and turned to go.

"Some of this stuff is quite heavy, grandmother, I don't know whether I can move it all by myself," I queried.

"Well don't expect me to get myself dirty; that's why I asked your mother to send you over. I think there are trucks and trolleys and such in one of the sheds," and so saying, she left.

I swore under my breath, but there was enough moving gear to assist; the job wasn't as heavy as I originally thought and I was finished in less than two hours.

I went back into the house and cleaned up, then found grandmother in the lounge. She looked up as I entered, then said, "Thank you" rather dismissively.

"Oh, don't I even get a cup of tea for my efforts?" I enquired, and she sighed and said, ungraciously, "Yes, I suppose so," and went off to boil the kettle.

I settled myself in an armchair and when she returned, I said, "I'm glad I've got this opportunity to have a chat, grandmother."

"Oh really," she said, icicles forming round the words, "and just what do we have to talk about?"

"Well, for a start, I'd be interested to hear about your relationship with the Reverend John Prendergast, and how much your husband knew about this."

"You impudent young puppy," she screamed. "How dare you make such an insinuation? Get out of this house now and don't ever show your face here again."

"Very well, grandmother, if you insist, but before I go, you might be interested in these letters and photos that have come into my possession." I spread out a complete copy of all the letters and photos on the table in front of her.

Grandmother turned pale and her face became set as she clamped down on a torrent of emotions seething through her. "Where did you get these?" she demanded in a low hoarse growl.

"Hmm—I thought you might have remembered. They were in an envelope addressed to you, presumably from the Reverend John and hidden in a secret drawer in that monstrosity of a desk that you insisted on giving to mum."

Grandmother gasped and gave a deep groan. "I would have sworn they had been destroyed, burned in the backyard incinerator years ago. Now it seems as if Alex found them and held onto them, keeping his discovery a secret." Now grandmother almost physically drew herself together to face the threat I had made. "Very well, young man, name your price!"

I smiled. "Just out of interest, grandmother, how much do you think they're worth?"

"Oh, I suppose $500 might cover your attempt at blackmail," she said condescendingly.

Now my smile turned to open laughter. "You just don't get it, do you grandmother? You could offer me a thousand times that amount and I still wouldn't sell. In fact, I'm not interested in your money."

"So what do you want, then?" she asked with seemingly genuine curiosity.

"I want what John Prendergast was getting. I want full access to your body, when, where and how I decide."

Grandmother seemed to go through a series of convulsions, her face first flushing a bright red, then turning deathly pale. She made some very odd noises before predictably asking, "What did you say?"

"You heard, grandmother. You are going to be available for sex at any time of my choosing, doing anything I feel like doing."

"You must have gone completely insane." she choked. "Under no circumstances would I contemplate for one moment anything even remotely similar to what you are saying. Now get out of this house before I call the police."

"Grandmother, you still don't understand the position you're in. These documents are dynamite, and I'm quite prepared to use them for my own purposes. Just think for one moment how the Reverend John would react if—or when—I send him a copy. To say nothing of his wife and family. Then there is the archbishop; I'm sure he would find this material quite revealing. Of course, Mrs Potter, your arch-enemy on the state women's committee would find much to use in these documents, and there are another six or seven people who would use this against you. In addition, the gutter press would have a field day; 'Society matron in lust affair with church leader'; can't you just see it? Are you prepared to take that risk?"

My grandmother's previously steely resolve collapsed. "You wouldn't," she sobbed.

"Oh yes I would, grandmother. I've always fancied the idea of having a sex slave and you will fill the bill very nicely. Now, let's start as we mean to continue—get undressed."

"No, Drew, please, I beg you, don't do this to me. You know this is incest and we could both be in serious legal trouble. Besides which, it is totally wrong, morally."

"I don't give a damn about your phoney morality and as to the law, well, I'm not going to say anything, and if you do, you know the consequences. Besides, I can always claim that you seduced me, an innocent 18 year old when I came to help you move some furniture," I replied with a meaningful smirk.

My grandmother's demeanour changed again. "You foul pig," she spat at me. "Do your worst; see if I care."

"Easy on the abuse," I replied, "or I shall be forced to demonstrate just who IS in charge here. On the other hand, if you are really determined to face me down, I'll leave now, stop off at the nearest post box and drop off this batch of letters. Oh yes, and I've got a nice little on-line compilation that I can release onto the 'net any time. That would spread the message far and wide. Okay, grandmother, see you around." And I headed for the door.

"Stop," she croaked. "You can't do that."

"I think I can, grandmother—who's going to stop me? Now if you really don't want me to post these interesting documents, do what I tell you and strip. Now."

If looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. "You rotten, rotten bastard. You foul pig," she screamed.

I wasn't going to let this pass and jumping out of my chair I reached across and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her back towards the chair. Then she screamed her hate and defiance, cursing me as I pulled her sharply forward so that she fell across my knees. She was wearing a tight tailored skirt in a soft, light blue material, and as she squirmed on my lap, her arse wiggled invitingly. Too good to resist, I started spanking her across the beautiful curves of her bottom, landing hard blows on each cheek. I kept this up for some time, enjoying the sweet sensations of my hand bouncing on her tight, firm arse and her squeals and screams of pain. Eventually her curses changed to sobs and I finished, shoving her roughly to the floor where she sprawled in an uncharacteristically inelegant manner.

She eventually picked herself up, her hair in a mess, her makeup streaked and her face red with evidence of tears. Even so, she faced me with some of her old spirit. "How dare you strike a lady?" she demanded. "What sort of a beast are you to hit your own grandmother?"

"Haven't you realised yet, Olivia, that I am the sort of beast that gives beasts a bad name? I've also decided that I'm going to drop the grandmother crap and call you by your given name. Now get your clothes off or I will cut them off—and it would be such a shame to damage your fashionable clothes."

She sneered at me but realised that I was serious and undid the buttons on the front of her blouse, shrugging it off and folding it onto a nearby chair. Her high set breasts looked to be perfectly shaped with little evidence of any sagging but were hidden in a pale lilac bra edged with embroidered flowers.

"Very nice, Olivia, you're already making me drool. Now lose the skirt."

She again favoured me with a look of pure hate seasoned with a generous helping of disdain, but unzipped the skirt and dropped it and a half-slip to the floor, stepping out of them and turning sideways to minimize the view.

She was wearing pantyhose as well as 3" patent pumps. "Oh dear, Olivia, I definitely do not approve of pantyhose. In future, you will wear either stockings and a garter belt or possibly stay-ups, but never pantyhose."

"In future?" she screamed, "What the hell do you mean by that. There is no 'in future'. As soon as I am finished with this whole degradation, I never want to see you or hear from or of you again, you piece of shit." 

"Dear me, Olivia, your language is starting to get the better of you. It must be clouding your vision of the future, because you are destined to be my sex slave for as long as I want you. The letters and photos are a guarantee that you will be obedient because you can't face the possibility of exposure and the wholesale public humiliation you will face. Let's put it this way—you can face exposure and ongoing public humiliation from any number of sources, or you can experience private humiliation at my hands with no exposure. Your choice, only make your decision quickly because my patience is starting to run out."

"There must be another way out; there must." By now she was starting to move from enraged to desperate.

"No, Olivia, but I will say this. My interest in you has to do with sex and domination. If you accept the private option, you will submit to me as your master and do everything I demand of you. I have no intention of jeopardising your fashionable status or your business activities. So far as that's concerned, you can continue to be the queen bee and so long as you satisfy my lusts I shall not interfere in your daily life. On the other hand, if you want to take the public humiliation option, you can have no hope of any future social standing. Your previous life will seem like a dream with your present life a never-ending nightmare."

"Doesn't sound as if I have much choice does it?" she asked resignedly.

"Of course you do, but I would've thought the choice was obvious. If it is what I think it will be, take off your bra and let me get a good look at your tits."

Olivia gave me another withering look, and I realised that I was going to have to do something about this. I needed to break her will so that she would do just as I wanted, even to the extent of begging me to spank, whip or flog her; to reveal her truly submissive nature. I was starting to get an erection just thinking about this, and it grew more pronounced when she unclipped her bra and let it fall to the floor.

Her breasts were superb, pale cones of firm flesh with wide pink areolas and long tubular nipples that already appeared to be hard. This interested me; the room was quite warm so there had to be some other source of stimulation.

"Such beautiful tits, Olivia, just waiting for a man to play with them." So saying, I walked over to her and pinched each nipple hard, pulling them forward so that her tits stood out to almost their full extent. 

"Aargh, stop, you brute, you're hurting me," she squealed. At the same time, Olivia started to lash out with her hands in a futile attempt to make me stop but I continued to pinch and twist her firm nubs, her screams causing my erection to grow even greater.




Degradation & Redemption Act 01



"Mmm, too good to let go, Olivia," I claimed and bent to lick around each breast in turn, spiralling upwards from her chest and flicking across her now swollen nipples.

She moaned and whimpered as I did so, turning to screams as I bit into each hard nubbin.

"I think I've given you a lot of latitude, Olivia, but you're still trying your hardest to piss me off. Beware, slut, my patience isn't unlimited, but this will obviously take a little time. I produced a set of handcuffs and a ball gag from my bag, then pushed her to the ground and cuffed her to the table leg. I forced the ball gag into her protesting mouth, then made a phone call.

"Hi mum," I tried to sound deliberately calm and composed. "Look, grandmother has invited me to stay for the night; there was more to do than I thought and, believe it or not, we've had quite a pleasant little chat. No, it's not really convenient to talk to her right now, she's a bit, how shall I say, 'tied up' at the moment. Yes, okay, I'll see you some time tomorrow."

I removed the ball gag and was greeted by derision and loathing. "Damn you, you're not staying here, you can go to hell" she spat out.

I slapped her hard across each tit, bringing tears to her eyes. "I'll do what I bloody well please, and you're in no position to stop me.

I un-cuffed her and dragged her to her feet. "Now, where were we, my dear Olivia? Oh yes, take off those stupid pantyhose and let me get a good look at your pussy. Are you going to do what you're told or am I going to have to cut them off and risk nicking your sweet little kitty?"

Realising that she had no alternative, Olivia slowly slid the pantyhose down her still slim, smooth legs and stood boldly naked in front of me. Her pussy lips were still closed and there was no sign of any moisture, and her love tunnel was guarded by a light covering of blond to gray fur. I stroked my hand over her mound, easing a finger gently through the outer lips, but she was still too dry for any penetration, unless I decided to be completely brutal; "not right now," I thought.

"Mmm, delicious—mouth watering, in fact, although I think we might move to somewhere more appropriate for what I have in mind. Your bedroom; let's go."

"No, you'll have to carry me, kicking and screaming before I do that," she yelled.

"I could do that, too," I countered, "but I don't think that will be necessary, and I pulled a long riding crop from my bag. Now move," I shouted, and whipped her across her butt, leaving a bright red line across one alabaster cheek.

Olivia screamed again, this time with pain, but moved towards the stairs, and I followed, watching fascinated as the bright red line swayed with the roll of her hips.

We reached her bedroom, and I was delighted to see an antique brass bed providing lots of useful anchor points for handcuffs.

I moved across to her bed and sat down facing her. "Okay, slut, down on your hands and knees, crawl over to me, open up my jeans, take out my cock and give me a hot, wet blowjob."

Olivia growled at me in anger and defiance. "Never, you rotten bastard. I don't do that sort of thing, and you can't make me. If you try, I'll bite your goddam cock off!"

"Now you've gone too far, Olivia and you need to be taught a lesson." I grabbed her by the arm, and again jerked her towards me, although this time she knew what was about to happen and struggled to avoid it. I was a good deal stronger than her, and she was soon draped across my knees with her smooth, soft bottom just waiting for the attention of my hand.

I spanked her hard, alternating between each cheek, and varying the time between each strike to prevent her predicting when the next blow would fall. After five strikes on each cheek, she started to gasp, then shriek as the pain increased, my spanking compounding the pain from the stroke of the crop. She struggled to try to escape, but that simply resulted in the spanking getting harder, and she stopped. By ten strikes I could hear her sobbing but I kept up the spanking, although, unexpectedly her cries grew less as I approached twenty, and her struggles took on a different quality.

Her bottom was now cherry red and hot to the touch as I stroked my hand across her radiant bum causing her to whimper gently. My suspicions were soon confirmed as I twisted her body so that she was facing me, and ran a finger across her slit. It was running with her juices.

Olivia gave a cry of pain as I dumped her unceremoniously on the floor. "So, you slut; you're getting off on being spanked. You're obviously a pain slut, so we can both enjoy me punishing you in other, more inventive ways."

"No, no, it's not like that—my body is betraying me," she gasped in horror.

"What a very nice body it is too and how sweetly it betrays you," I replied cheerfully. "Now you know what to do, unless you want more punishment. Down on your hands and knees, open my jeans get hold of my cock and blow me."

"Please, Drew, please—I've never done anything like that," she cried, with tears running down her face, "I don't know what to do."

"Well, now's your chance to learn, and if you've truly never given head before, you'll need lots and lots of practice. Get to it," I growled and grabbing her shoulders, twisted her towards me.

Olivia fumbled with my belt and eventually got my jeans open. She worked her soft warm hand into my boxers and, with difficulty, extracted my stiff, throbbing cock.

"Oh god, it's much too big, I can't get that thing in my mouth," Olivia whimpered.

"That is not a 'thing', slut, it's my sacred cock and you will worship it. Start by licking all over and around it and concentrate on the soft part just below the head."

Olivia tentatively licked around the head of my cock, so unexpectedly gently that it made me gasp and pant. "Ooh yes, very nice, now lick down and stroke your tongue around my balls, using plenty of saliva."

Olivia's ministrations were having exactly the desired effect, and I could feel the outliers of a delicious orgasm starting to build. "Okay, slut, now take as much of my cock into your mouth as you can manage and suck on it as if it was an ice block. But I warn you, if I so much as get a hint of you using your teeth inappropriately, I'll thrash you to within an inch of your life."

She moaned lightly, but slid my cock into her now sucking mouth and continued to use her tongue around the sensitive underside as she did so.

"Oh yes, you cocksucking bitch, you learn fast. Just keep the pressure up and keep using that talented tongue until I cum in your mouth."

Olivia started to withdraw saying, "Nngh, no, you can't ..." but I held her head against my crotch and pumped my cock into her mouth.

My orgasm was building quickly and I could feel the electric excitement in my lower abdomen reaching into my balls. With a choked roar, my cum flooded through my cock and into Olivia's reluctant mouth. "Now swallow, bitch," I demanded, still holding her head in place as the spasms of my cock continued and gradually lessened.

She swallowed some, but then started to gag and choke, and I allowed her to cough and retch, spitting the surplus cum onto the floor.

"Tut, tut, Olivia, what a waste of good semen. You will need to have more practice at swallowing my seed, but that wasn't bad for a first effort," I concluded grudgingly. "Now, clean my cock up with your tongue, then go into your bathroom and clean yourself up."

She did as I told her, without further objection, although her hatred was obvious from her expression and the way she moved.

Olivia returned, looking tidier, but still with an expression of disgust on her face. "Now, seeing as you were somewhat reluctant to give me a blowjob, we will go in the other direction. Get up on the bed and lean against the bed-head, spread your legs and masturbate to orgasm."

Olivia looked at me with revulsion, but before she could comment, I continued, "Do it, or your punishment will make the spanking you recently had seem like a tickle. MOVE—NOW."

My harsh shout caused her to climb onto the bed and move gingerly into the position I specified. She wet her index finger and slid it slowly up her pussy towards her clitoris, with a blank, disconnected expression on her face.

"Good girl," I condescended, "Now speed it up a bit—oh, and in case I didn't tell you, you are not allowed to cum unless I tell you that you may. In addition, you must keep your eyes open and not take them away from mine. Do you understand?"

Olivia made no comment, and I roared at her, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

She still looked blank, but nodded in acknowledgement, continuing to stroke her pussy, now with two fingers, and she continued to stare into my eyes. As her orgasm started to grow, she hummed, then drove two fingers deep into her cunt and alternated that with stroking and pinching her clit. The pressure was rising and her hums changed to moans. Her body shook with the tension, writhing and squirming as her sexual excitement increased.

Olivia was losing the battle to keep herself distant from the sexual activity that I was imposing on her. She was right; her body had betrayed her and was continuing to do so, as she gradually slipped under my control. We weren't there yet, but the advantage was now very much in my court. I seized this opportunity to take some photos of Olivia in this lewd and obscene position but she didn't seem to notice, being totally obsessed by bringing herself to climax. She continued to look into my eyes, but her gaze was glassy and seemed wholly inward focussed.

Her moans turned to a scream as the ecstasy built and her climax came ever nearer and I warned her, "You do not cum until I allow you to or you suffer unpleasant consequences."

Olivia gasped and sobbed as her body shuddered—her tits quivered in a most entrancing way and her legs trembled and shook. "Oh god, master, please, please, I need the release—I'll come apart if I can't let my orgasm happen."

"No, slut, the decision is mine, not yours. You do what I want, not what you want, and I want to see you in the throes of self-generated sexual excess."

She gave an animal howl, her hand still working hard on her soaking and inflamed pussy with her inhibited orgasm seeming to take control of her whole body. The shuddering increased, her head thrashed from side to side, causing her hair to fly in a white cloud. "P...please, ma...mast ...master, p... please, I b ... beg y ... you, please release me. I wi ... will d ... do any ... anything you w ... want, just please, l ... let me go," she seemed to pray to me.

I realised that she might be damaged if I held her in stasis for too long, and said, "Very well, slut, when I count to three, you may cum. One ..."

Olivia screamed, a harsh, hard noise, cutting through the sex-laden atmosphere of the bedroom.

"Two."

Her scream rose higher in a crescendo while her body, limbs and head flailed on the brink of a climax as powerful as any volcano.

"Three."

"Aargh ... aieee ... aieee ...oh god, oh god, oh god, ... master!" Olivia went rigid before the tension broke and her orgasm washed from her tortured and now flooding cunt throughout her whole body.

This performance, including her reference to me as "master", had caused me to generate a record erection and I needed to relieve it—urgently. "Excellent, slut," I said, "now get onto all fours so that I can fuck you doggy style."

She moved slowly into position with her arse in the air; I shucked off my clothes and positioned myself behind her. I first ran my right hand over her pussy and saw that it was still dripping with her juices. Then I moved up to her with my rigid cock against the moist entrance to her love tunnel, and without any preliminaries, entered her with one long hard thrust.

Olivia screamed at the sudden intrusion of my cock into her pussy. For a woman of her age, she was remarkably tight, probably from lack of use. That made it all the more enjoyable for me, and I reamed into her sucking cunt, showing her no mercy. Her screams lessened a little as she gradually became accustomed to my thick cock ploughing into her, and, rather to my surprise, she started to move backwards to meet my thrusts and generate some excitement for herself. As she did so, I slapped her arse, causing her to gasp, but not to stop her backward thrusts.

Her breathing became harsh and she panted as another orgasm started to overtake her, and mine was growing more insistent as her cunt muscles gripped my throbbing cock, trying to pull me even further into her heat and not allow me to withdraw. Olivia mewled and whimpered with the force of the sensations building inside her and I moaned with the thrill of an imminent explosion.

By some serendipitous chance, we came together. I howled in triumph as a flood of cum blasted through my cock into the depths of her cunt. Olivia screamed and thrashed as her orgasm broke free, flooding my cock with her juices and causing her body to ripple and shudder in synch with my jerks and spasms.

Olivia collapsed forwards and I rolled onto my back with my sticky cock now starting to droop. "Well done, bitch, now finish the job. Come down here and clean my cock with your tongue."

She moved slowly and gave a tired sigh, but made no comment before her warm, wet tongue worked its way up and down and over and around my cock, cleaning away the last traces of our mingled spend.

"Oh god, I'm so exhausted," she whispered, "I just want to fall into bed."

"Oh no, bitch, you have entirely the wrong idea. You will sleep on a blanket on the floor at the end of the bed, with one wrist cuffed to the leg of the bed to prevent any funny business. I will grant you the benevolence of a pillow, a bowl of water that you can lap like a dog and a bucket in case you need to relieve yourself during the night. Now go and clean yourself up and we will both retire." 

"How can you do this to me, you rotten swine. I'm your grandmother, for god's sake. You can't treat me like an animal ...."

I broke in quickly. "I think you will find that I can, Olivia, and if you keep on bad mouthing me, I'll tan your arse so hard that it will keep you warm all night. You performed well for me, so I'll cut you some slack, but you've gone as far as I'm prepared to tolerate." With that, she went to the en suite to tidy herself up, and I placed the blanket, pillow etc. on the floor and cuffed her wrist to the bed. "Good night, grandmother," I called cheerily, but was not surprised when I didn't get a reply.

I slept well and was up early the following morning. Olivia was sleeping fitfully when I nudged her with my foot. "Wake up, sleeping beauty", I carolled, "time for breakfast; I'm hungry."

I bent and unfastened the cuff around her wrist, noticing a quite different expression on her face. It seemed feral, fierce, almost as if she was possessed, and I was immediately on my guard. Just as well that I was; we went downstairs to the kitchen and I seated myself, waiting for coffee and toast at least.

I was barely seated when Olivia rushed at me, swinging a long, serrated kitchen knife and snarling like a wild animal. Fortunately, I was not taken by surprise. I jumped up and threw my heavy coffee mug at her, catching her on the right shoulder with enough force to cause her to drop the knife.

I was immediately on to her, grabbing both arms and twisting them up behind her back so that she screamed in pain. "You stupid, stupid, STUPID bitch. What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" I shouted at her. She mumbled something that I didn't catch.

"I've got no hesitation in killing you after what you've just done, and I would claim self-defence." By this time I was icy cold and spat out my words with force and with venom.

Olivia screamed, gasped and sobbed, "Oh god, no, you can't, don't talk like that, you can't kill me, you just can't."

I let go her arms, then spun her around, ripping off the tie from her dressing gown and binding her wrists firmly with it. "Well, who's going to stop me?" I demanded. "Give me just one good reason why I shouldn't butcher you right here and now." I looked into her eyes; the demonic expression was gone, replaced by one of total abject terror.

She continued to sob. "P...p...please, d...don't d...do this. Y...you...you'll...go...to...ga...gaol."

"Maybe," I replied callously, "but even if they find me guilty and let's say I get 20 years, I'll only be 40 when I get out, and you'll be just as dead."

She tried again, "I'm your grandmother; doesn't that mean anything?"

I gave an evil laugh. "That's just a biological accident and it also means that this is the second time you've tried to kill me." 

"The second time?" her curiosity got the better of her pain and her fear.

"Yeah, the second—after you tried to have me aborted a bit over twenty years ago. Try again, granny, you're not doing too well at the moment; your prospects don't look too good," and I put my hands round her throat, squeezing just hard enough to let her know that I wasn't joking. 

"Oh please, I beg you, please let me live, I don't want to die," she gasped, then she again burst into tears, shaking and trembling with fear. Her terror had become palpable as she lost control of her bladder and urine trickled down her legs.

I removed my hands. "Hmm, let's suppose, purely hypothetically, you understand, that I do decide to let you live. What's in it for me?" I demanded.

"Oh god, oh god, please, please don't kill me. I'll do anything, give you anything just let me stay alive."

"Anything?" I queried.

"Oh yes, you can have all my money, use my body any way that pleases you, just ..." at which words failed her and she shuddered and cried bitterly.

"Very well, you stupid whore. As I've already told you, money means nothing to me, but I will use your body in such a way that you may wish you were dead. Now first of all, clean up that mess on the floor."

Olivia scurried to find cleaning materials and removed most of the evidence of her incontinence.

Then I dragged Olivia back up to her bedroom and flung her onto the bed, face down, cuffing her hands and feet spreadeagled to the head and foot of the bed. Then I pushed a pillow under her midriff, forcing her bottom into the air and picked up the riding crop that I'd used once on her when we first came to her bedroom. I turned her head to show her, slashing it into the pillow beside her head.

"To start the punishment, you will get thirty strokes with the crop over your lily-white arse. You will count each stroke, and then say, 'thank you, master' after you receive it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she gasped.

"Very well, let us begin this part of the amusement," and I struck her upraised bottom hard with the crop. A red welt appeared immediately, she squealed but managed a gasping, "One. Thank you, master."

We went through two, three, four, five to fifteen. By now she screamed at each stroke but managed to sob out the count and her thanks.

Her bottom was criss-crossed with a network of scarlet welts and she wriggled and thrashed to try to minimise the pain, but without success. "We've reached the half way mark, slut," I confirmed, and we will take a minute's break before the final stage."

Olivia moaned, but said nothing.

I soon resumed the punishment and she was now screaming in agony as each blow landed. As if by some programmed response, she managed the count and thanks but it was as if the noise came from a robot.

"Thirty, thank you master," a hoarse whisper that I could barely hear before she burst into tears. "Oh thank god that's over," she whimpered.

"Oh no, Olivia, this is far from over. Now I'm going to fuck you up the arse.

She screamed in anticipated agony. "Oh master, please don't be so cruel."

"Cruelty doesn't come into this, slut. Correct me if I'm wrong, but just now you offered me the use of your body in any way that pleases me. This pleases me! Now, I am going to release you, and I want you on all fours in the middle of the bed with your legs spread. If you try any funny business, I'll give you a sound thrashing with the crop across your sweet tits. Do you understand?"




Degradation & Redemption Act 01



"Yes, master." She sobbed, trembling and whimpering.

My cock was now throbbing and steel hard and I removed my clothes in double quick time. I climbed onto the bed behind Olivia and squirted a liberal amount of anal lub onto her puckered arsehole as well as working a generous quantity onto my cock. I lined up my cock and rested the head on her tight pucker then leaned over and whispered to her, "This will hurt a tiny bit less if you consciously relax your anal muscle as I push in." She nodded but said nothing, then took a deep breath, trying to relax.

I slowly increased the pressure of my cock on her arsehole and she relaxed the sphincter muscle, allowing the head to pop inside. I stopped and waited for her anus to adjust itself to this intrusion, then again pushed slowly forward. Olivia screamed with the pain of this thrust; "Oh god, you're too big, you're going to tear me apart."

"Be quiet or I'll gag you. This is part of your punishment and I'm going to take my pleasure however I please," I growled remorselessly. I continued to push in but gently and slowly, allowing her some time to adjust, and although the screams stopped, Olivia moaned and gasped, sobbing as the invasion continued.

I slid my cock steadily into her anus and filled her without hurrying. This allowed me to feel Olivia surrender her arse to me. I greatly enjoyed this sense of domination and let out a pent-up breath as the base of my cock pressed up against her bottom. She whimpered as my curly forest rubbed against her tortured cheeks, but made no attempt to prevent this pain. Once I was all the way inside her, I began by fucking her slowly, with initially gentle thrusts. As her muscles relaxed a little I was able to speed up and thrust harder into her hot, smooth arse.

Olivia responded with squeals of mixed pain and excitement which turned to screams as the pressure from my expanding cock grew. I bent over her back and whispered to her again, "Play with your clit, slut and let me hear you getting closer to your climax."

I could feel the rhythmic movement of her hand in her pussy and heard the squeals and moans growing louder and more frequent. Her breathing changed to ragged gasps and she bucked under me.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god. I'm cumming, I'm cumming," she shrieked, but I stopped my thrusting and slapped her butt hard, causing her to scream with pain, which stopped the approaching train wreck.

"Aaargh, that is so unfair," she whined, but I was not going to be drawn into this.

"You will cum when I do and not before, and I'm not there yet," I snarled. "Now let's get back to the action; keep playing with yourself and I'll tell you when to cum."

Olivia whined again, but continued the action on her clit while I drove into her arse with increased speed and force. Her eager cries started to rise again, and this time, so did mine. I could feel my orgasm gathering pace, bubbling in my balls and demanding release through my cock until I howled my elation and delight as I shot a goodly load of spunk deep into her bowels. At the same time, Olivia screamed in a keening wail as she climaxed with great force—more than I had seen with her and possibly more than she had ever experienced before.

My wilting cock left her arse with a soft "pop" and I rolled onto my back while Olivia slumped forward onto her front. Then she propped onto one elbow and looked at me with pain and tiredness in her eyes. "Master is this all, or do I need to do further penance for my sins?"

"No, slut, there is still more to come, although this will be different." With that I told her to lie on her back and I again cuffed her arms and legs to the bed, leaving her stretched with her legs wide apart. "I need to go out for a couple of hours, so I am going to leave you here, but I don't want you to get bored."

Olivia looked puzzled.

I went to my sports bag and took out a combined vibrator and clit stimulator. "Do you know what this is, slut?" I asked.

"I think so, master," she gasped, "it's a vibrator."

"Yes, indeed," I replied and worked it carefully into her soaking pussy with the stimulator snugly against her clit. She screamed when I turned it on, and I told her, "You will now have two hours of intense orgasmic stimulation until I return. And to add to your enjoyment, I am going to blindfold you and insert and ear plugs so that the only sensations you will get will be through your cunt." I matched my actions to my words and taped the vibrator in place. As I left the bedroom, Olivia was already squirming and squealing with the intense sensations playing in and around her pussy.

I picked up Olivia's house keys and drove home for a brief conversation with mum. "I know this will sound very odd, mum, but grandmother has asked me to stay over with her for a few days. It means I can get out of your hair and I've agreed to help her with some of the bigger stuff around the house. Now I've really got to know her a lot better, she's not so formidable as I used to think, and I can help her out a bit."

"That's so good of you, Drew," mum replied, "perhaps I should ring her and thank her?"

"No, probably not right now, mum—grandmother's taking a nap at the moment, that's why I left her for a while. I'll be sure to let her know you asked after her, though."

"Thank you, honey, you're such a good son—perhaps I should say such a good grandson," mum complimented me but I was very aware of the heavy irony.

I packed some clean clothes, had a casual coffee with mum, then left around 1.00 pm and headed back to grandmother's house, stopping off briefly on the way. I had been away for almost exactly two hours. I went upstairs to Olivia's bedroom; the vibrator was still humming merrily, but Olivia had passed out in the middle of the bed in a pool of mixed urine and pussy juice. I turned off the vibrator and removed it as gently as possible together with the earplugs, the blindfold and the cuffs. Semi consciously, Olivia rolled into a foetal position while I sat on the bed and waited.

Olivia opened her eyes and gazed at me looking exhausted and totally shattered. "Oh god, master," she whispered in a voice so low I could hardly hear her, "Please, I beg you, let me sleep. After that last experience, I am totally wiped out."

"Hmm, well, I suppose I can be merciful this time, although once again, you appear to have had bladder problems. Clean up the bed and yourself, then sleep if you need to."

Olivia dragged herself out of bed and masked the extensive damp patch, then fell into a dead sleep. I sat in a chair next to the bed and watched my sleeping grandmother with her curtain of silver hair spread across the pillow, and her face surprisingly composed after the turbulence of the morning.

This caused me to reflect on what had happened, and as I did so, I started to feel a storm of guilt drawing in around me. "How could I have been so brutal towards my own flesh and blood?" I thought to myself, and once I allowed my conscience to come into play, the whole ugly scenario played itself out in my mind, and I wept for my own cruelty and viciousness. This had to stop, and I resolved to go no further.

Olivia slept for over four hours, and I was still sitting watching her as she woke, stretching luxuriously like a newly awoken cat.

"Master?" she asked enquiringly.

"First, Olivia, I want you to do something that sounds simple but will be almost impossible for you to do."

She looked at me enquiringly but said nothing.

"Olivia, I want you to trust me, to trust that I won't hurt you."

"Yes, of course I will, master; what would you have me do?"

"Just turn and lie on your stomach," I ordered, but as gently as I knew how. "I may actually have misled you, as this may sting a bit at first," and I poured a liberal quantity of soothing lotion onto her butt. She squeaked briefly as it stung, but then began to hum as I rubbed the lotion into her tortured skin, where it had a comforting effect.

"Ooh thank you, master, that helps my poor, sore bottom so much. Now what would you have me do next?"

"No, Olivia, I'm going to put an end to this charade. If it was possible to make anything like an apology to you, I would do so immediately and without hesitation. Nothing I can say can make up for the way I have treated you, and if you want to take legal action against me, I will understand and I won't fight it. I will return all the letters and photos to you as soon as possible. I'm going to leave now, and you need never see ..."

At that point, she looked at me with an expression that, in other circumstances I could only interpret as love, and said, "Master, please, may this unworthy slut beg you to allow me some time to shower and dress because I really do want to have a conversation with you. This is so very important to me, and I beg you not to leave before we've had a chance to talk, although it will probably take me a couple of hours to do what I need to do. Will you do that for me, please, and if after that you need to leave, I won't stand in your way?"

I was absolutely astonished, and could only nod my agreement.

"Thank you so much, master; why don't you go make yourself some coffee—and why not order some Chinese for us both; I'm starving," she finished almost inconsequentially.

I disappeared to the lounge, made coffee, ordered a decent sized meal and sat and read the paper in a half-hearted way. After almost two hours, I heard the click of heels approaching the door and Olivia walked in. To be more accurate, she glided in, and I was totally gobsmacked at the sight. I stood as she walked in and stared open mouthed at this stunning vision.

She had obviously washed her hair and brushed it until it gleamed with highlights all through her luxurious silver mane. Her makeup was applied as if by a professional, but with some differences from normal. Her lipstick clearly outlined her generous mouth, rather than trying to hide it, her fingers were tipped with bright red polish and she wore a tight skirt in a soft pink material with a white silk blouse cut in such a way that it emphasized her generous breasts. These were embraced by a clever bra that supported her mouth-watering assets without hiding their obvious attractions. She was wearing 3" black patent heels, but no stockings.

My stare continued, and Olivia laughed. "Oh master, you'd better close your mouth or you'll start catching flies."

As she said that, she came close to me and took both my hands in hers and unexpectedly, lifted them to her lips and kissed them gently, her eyes shining with something I could only describe as devotion.

"Olivia, what has happened?" I gasped. "I expected you to at least throw me out, possibly with a police escort."

She put her finger to my lips, saying, "Please master, I need to talk with you and explain what has happened from my perspective."

"Okay, if you say so," I replied, "but until further notice, perhaps I should call you Olivia and you call me Drew. That way, we can put this master/slave business to one side for a while."

We sat together on the sofa with our knees at right angles, almost touching, and she started her extraordinary story.

"Drew, you need to understand the sort of person I really am. From at least my late teens, I realised that I was a natural submissive; I needed someone to control me in my personal life, but someone who I could trust. That part was supremely important to me, so that I could feel safe and secure, be able to relax and let myself go and thoroughly enjoy the experience. So I needed someone who would be able to control and regulate my experience of being dominated, but in ways where I knew I would ultimately be safe."

This was obviously very important to Olivia, but as she talked, she seemingly idly stroked my forearm very gently with her soft, warm hand. This caused goose bumps to rise on my arm, and also a distinct arising of another part of my anatomy. I looked from her hand to her eyes, and Olivia stopped, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, Drew, I hardly realised what I was doing. I hope it isn't disturbing you?"

I laughed. "Yes, it is disturbing me very much, but if you stop I shall be even more disturbed!"

Olivia also laughed in response and continued her gentle stroking as well as her story.

"I had so hoped that Alex would be the answer to my needs; he was handsome, positive and with an air of control about him. Unfortunately, I soon found that this didn't extend to the bedroom. He really had little interest in me sexually; more what you might call today a 'trophy wife'. I couldn't get my needs met, and sublimated them into a drive towards my own form of business success, in a sense, competing with Alex. I developed a chain of beauty salons and hairdressers and branched out into jewellery design, where I discovered that I had some talent. I became quite hard nosed in these areas, and that turned me into a hard, driven person, able to completely suppress all my sensual desires under a ruthless drive for success—and, to be perfectly honest, for money."

"I see—I think," I commented, "so how does John Prendergast fit into all this?"

"Oh, poor John; he was so sweet. One night after I'd had a little too much to drink at a party we both attended, I confessed some of my feelings to John. He tried to save me, and I seduced him; he wasn't married at the time. As you know," Olivia grinned at me, "we exchanged some highly explicit letters, mainly at my instigation. When I discovered I was pregnant, he broke off the relationship and returned all the letters to me. I seem to remember there was one last letter in which I begged him not to leave me, but I think he must have destroyed that. Yes, Drew, your mother is John Prendergast's daughter, of that I have absolutely no doubt." Olivia paused for a moment, reflecting on what had happened almost forty years ago.

"I thought I had destroyed the letters, but evidently, Alex found them and kept them hidden for his own purposes. Actually this answers a question I've had about Alex's behaviour about 18 months after your mother was born. One evening, he stormed into our bedroom in a towering rage and raped me. Oddly, it was the most passionate that he'd ever been, he just went right over the top. Your twin aunts were the result, but I regret that I never really bonded well with them, and the result is that we hardly ever have anything to do with each other."

Now Olivia's face broke into a broad smile. "Then yesterday, you arrived on the doorstep to move some furniture, and completely turned my world upside down."

"I'm so sorry, grandmother. I've always been in awe of you and when I found the incriminating letters, I decided to take advantage of your apparent weakness and blackmail you into having sex with me. After I managed to bully you into doing as I wished, it didn't take me long to realise that, underneath that stern exterior you are totally gorgeous and totally sexy. ."

"What I don't understand," Olivia continued with a smile in her voice, "is why someone as young and good looking as you should prefer a woman nearly forty years older than you?"

"Just take a good, honest look in the mirror, you beautiful creature," I laughed.

"Drew, I don't know whether you realise it or not, but in a sense you have killed someone."

I was shocked. "What the hell do you mean?" I demanded.

"Well, as a result of my obsessive drive for business success, I sort of developed a second personality and attempted to bury the submissive Olivia. I think it's called a dissociative personality disorder today, although I think in my case, it's not a full blown example. What I called the 'bad' Olivia, the heartless, driven person attempted to imprison the 'good' Olivia, who just wanted to submit sexually to someone she trusted. What you've done in the past couple of days is to dominate me to such an extent that the 'bad' Olivia has disappeared; you've killed her."

"Okay," I responded, "and I guess the knife attack was the last attempt by the 'bad' Olivia to reassert herself?"

"Spot on, stud," she grinned.

"Olivia," I queried, "I'm curious about one other thing. If the driven, hard Olivia is gone, how will the submissive Olivia cope with her business commitments?" 

"Even better, I think. If I can allow my submissiveness free rein, it will allow me to focus on my business activities in the knowledge that I can release all the stress through a loving, caring master that I can completely trust, and I so hope that is you. Now the 'bad' Olivia is gone and you're left with a submissive who is longing to be dominated by you, what are you going to do about it?" Olivia grinned again.

"Olivia, that is such a tempting offer, but what on earth makes you think you can trust me?"

"Drew, I think you've already proven yourself. You could have killed me, but you didn't, you didn't distribute the letters, even after I'd abused you, you soothed my butt when it was still sore, and you offered to return the letters to me. That's just a few examples."

"Okay, Olivia," I replied, "I'll take your conviction that I am to be trusted at face value, but I should say that I don't have any experience at being a dom."

"All evidence to the contrary," she laughed. "You've recently given a pretty good demonstration of dominance, and there's not much I would change—except, perhaps, go a little bit easier with the crop and don't try to kill me!"

"Hmm. Well, I guess I can learn. First, I suggest we have something to eat, then I'm going to take you up to your bedroom, you're going to do a slow, seductive strip for me, then I'm going to fuck you until you scream, either for mercy or for more."

"Ooh, thank you, master, that sounds really good," and she stood, moving towards the kitchen.

"First things first, you horny slut, one thing we haven't done yet."

Olivia looked at me quizzically.

"Come here and stand in front of me. Now, put your arms round me and kiss me as if the only thing you wanted to do in the world was to get me into bed."

"Easy," she growled deep in her throat, then snaked her arms around me, one around my waist and the other holding my head. Then I felt her mouth gently touching mine. Her tongue ran across my lips and as I opened my mouth, she slipped her tongue in playing with mine, then exploring my mouth, under my tongue and along between my teeth and top lip. Our mouths were open now, with our bodies writhing against each other in an urgency and excitement that needed to find release very soon.

We broke, panting and she looked at me with hooded, smoky eyes. "I'm not sure how well I can control myself, master," she whispered. But if I was going to play the dom role, I had to stamp my authority on her early.

"Yes you will, slut, and if you step out of line, I'll spank that beautiful bottom until it's so hot I could fry eggs on it."

"Yes, master," she said demurely, but with a hint of excitement in her voice.

First we ate the Chinese food that had been delivered earlier, exchanging obscene and improbable suggestions about what we'd like to do to each other then we moved back to the bedroom. I insisted that she should climb the stairs first so that I could get a good view of her backside as it wiggled and swayed up the stairs.

We reached the bedroom, and while I sat on the bed, she turned to me with an expression of total lust on her face, looking like a tiger that's about to eat a lamb. "Pity I haven't got any 'stripper' music," she growled, "but I'll do the best I can."

With that, she put on a show that would put any professional stripper to shame. She unbuttoned her blouse and eased it slowly down her arms, making a series of moues at me, her eyes half closed and her breathing fast and eager. She flicked the blouse away and slowly lowered the zip on the side of her skirt, shimmying it down to the ground while wiggling her bra encased tits in a way that could only be called an incitement to riot.




Degradation & Redemption Act 02



This story contains elements of incest, humiliation, BDSM and general sexual mayhem. If any of this offends you, please read no further. All characters are aged over 18 and are solely the product of my fevered imagination. They have no relationship to anybody in real life, alive or dead.

I would like to take this opportunity to again thank Hatsuda for his editing expertise and support.

Enjoy

*

Olivia's laughter echoed in my ears as I drove home, contemplating the implications of my mother being a major submissive. Mum came to greet me when I arrived, and her motherly hug took on rather more significance than it ever had before.

"Hi, mum, how are you?" I asked, with somewhat compromised honesty.

"Fine, thanks, honey," she replied, "although I'm surprised about your new relationship with your grandmother. You've always been quite antagonistic towards her."

"Mmm, maybe that's because I'd never taken the trouble to spend time with her and really get to know her. Underneath that rather forbidding exterior, she's really just a pussy-cat."

"Okay, if you say so, Drew. Now come and have something to eat; it's getting late."

Mum was really a very attractive woman in rather a "china doll" way. She had soft light brown slightly wavy hair that she typically wore in a layered bob sweeping around the top of an unexpectedly long neck. Pale blue eyes complemented a similarly pale skin, topped off by a generous mouth with a noticeable cupid's bow and a very slightly retrousse nose.

Mum's figure was emphasised by eye-catching curves; she used to complain that she was fat and that no guy would ever look at her a second time, while I disputed this, claiming that her curves were in all the right places and rounded out a very enticing package.

We resumed our domestic life, but now I kept a closer watch on mum and her behaviour, and it appeared that she tended to be undecided and in need of direction even more than usual. The problem was that she seemed aimless, without any purpose or direction in life. Mum had always appeared to be particularly vulnerable. Hurting her would be like kicking a kitten, and she seemed to lack the willpower or resilience to defend herself.

"Mum", I asked one morning shortly after my return, "How come you've never had another relationship after Dad died? You're a very attractive woman—I would imagine you'd be besieged by guys with their tongues hanging out."

Mum blushed. "It's not really like that, Drew. Sure, I've had offers, but I've been very choosy about my social contacts. I've got you to think about, and besides, I like my own space."

I shook my head at her. "Mum, you really don't need to worry about me. I'm old enough and ugly enough to look after myself, and there's every chance I'll go into student accommodation next year when I go back to uni. Besides, don't you miss the physical contact, the closeness, the cuddles, the kisses and everything that goes with them?"

Mum blushed again. "Drew, we've talked about you moving out before, and I wish you wouldn't. Whether I need my own space or not, it would be so lonely without you. I love to cook for you, clean for you and do all sorts of things around the house for you."

"Yes, I know, Mum—it's almost as if I'm married to you but without any of the side benefits," I suggested, taking a risk with Mum's sensitivities when I winked at her.

Mum blushed an even deeper crimson and giggled like a schoolgirl. "Drew Morris, you really mustn't say things like that. I don't know where you get those ideas."

I grabbed Mum round the waist and gave her a tight hug, feeling her breasts crush against me and her breath blow out in a gasp. "I get those ideas from looking at you, temptress," I growled and she giggled again.

"Now let me go, you big ape. I've got better things to do than fool around with you." Mum was less than wholly convincing, but I let her go and gave her a gentle swat on the behind as she walked away.

"Drew, what's got into you—you're getting very cheeky." Mum tried to be severe but the half smile on her face gave the game away and I knew she enjoyed this sort of playfulness. Now my mind was focussed on taking it to another level.

"Mum, I've said it before and I'll say it again; you are a smart, attractive and obviously very desirable woman. What's holding you back from finding someone that you can be happy with?"

She looked at me with several different emotions playing across her face. "I guess it's a question of trust, Drew. If I were to find the right person, I'd need to be able to trust him absolutely. Your father ..." here, she caught her breath with a slight sob. "I don't know whether you ever realised, but your father was a serial womaniser. He had several affairs, although he denied it to my face. The evidence was there, though. I knew what he was up to, even though he tried to keep it quiet. He always came back to me after an affair was over, usually because whoever it was got fed up with him and threw him out. He would always beg for my forgiveness and promise not to do it again. Like a fool, I always forgave him."

"You obviously loved him, mum, or you wouldn't have continued to take him back like that," I attempted to sooth the waves of emotion that were attacking her.

Mum stared at me, bitterness chasing indecision across her face. "I don't know, Drew, I just don't know. Sometimes I thought I could rely on him, and opened myself up, finding that I was totally defenceless. Then he would ..." Mum choked back another sob. "No, Drew, it's not worth raking over the ashes of the past like this, I need to ..." with which she left the room abruptly.

Mum had either told me too much or too little, and I was convinced it was the latter. Given her current fragility, I decided to leave further discussion until later. Perhaps a few glasses of wine would loosen her tongue a little.

Around lunchtime I found mum in the kitchen engaged in her seemingly endless round of domestic chores. "Hi mum," I started, "I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard earlier on and I want to make up for it. How about I take you out for a meal this evening—nothing too glamorous; there's a nice little Italian place up near the junction; what do you say?"

Mum looked at me with one of her brilliant soft smiles. "Oh honey, you don't need to apologise; I just let some things get the better of me. A meal with my favourite guy would be nice, though. Does 7.30 sound okay?"

"Fine by me, mum, but my date had better be ready on time," I teased.

"Oh you," she laughed. "I will be ready and waiting at 7.30, and no excuses from you either."

Mum was as good as her word and was waiting for me when I arrived in the lounge just before 7.30. I gave a whistle of appreciation. "Woo-hoo, Mum, you look gorgeous; is this delicious ensemble all for me?"

Mum blushed and gave me a shy smile. "Well, who else do you think it's for?" she queried.

Mum was dressed in a one-piece dress in some very fine knitted fabric in a soft oyster grey. It was cut quite high at her throat, revealing no cleavage whatsoever, and was just knee length. However, the material was very clingy and sufficiently tight that it hugged her curves, creating a highly attractive impression. She was obviously wearing hose and three inch black suede heels.

"Wow, mum, I must ask you out more often if you're going to get dressed up like this for me," I teased.

Mum smiled again, and linked her arm through mine. "It's so long since I went out with such a charming and attractive guy that I felt I needed to create the right impact."

I grinned in return and we headed for the restaurant. It was dim and quiet being a weekday evening and we had a corner table away from such crowd as there was. We ordered and started on our meal accompanied by a decent bottle of wine when I asked her, "Mum, tell me about your relationship with your mum. You don't talk about her much, and sometimes I get the feeling that you're almost scared of her."

"Drew, I remember telling you just recently that she's become more withdrawn and more selfish recently. You used the term 'bloody difficult' and I couldn't disagree with you. As far back as I can remember, she's been, well, self-obsessed and thinking back, it probably started after the twins were born. I really don't understand all this stuff, but I so needed someone that I could lean on when I was growing up. My mother wasn't really available, and sometimes my father seemed downright antagonistic."

Tears started to form in mum's eyes, and I could tell that this was probably the first time she had opened up to anyone about these issues. I realised then that a public place such as a restaurant was not the best place for the sort of conversation we were about to have, and for the rest of our meal I steered the discussion into less dangerous territory.

We were home relatively early, well before midnight anyway, and we decided on coffee and a glass of brandy with a view to finishing the evening on a mellow note. At least, I think that was how mum saw it, but I wanted to continue the exploration of mum's past and her family relationships. There was a dam there, and I thought it needed to be burst.

"Just returning to our earlier conversation, mum, what do you think caused your father to be so antagonistic?"

"I wish I knew, honey," she replied with sadness in her voice.

"Do you think it had anything to do with your mum not being available to you?"

"Oh Drew, I just don't know. I really wish I did because it tears me apart, and I can't help feeling it was my fault."

This was the opening I had been looking for. "Mum, I know for a fact that it wasn't your fault. But are you sure you want to know the truth? It could be very painful."

"I don't care, Drew, I just want to solve this puzzle—it can't hurt me any more than I've been hurt in the past. Anyway, how do you know anything about it?"

Mum was now puzzled, apprehensive and suspicious. "Okay, Mum, one last time, are you sure you want to take the risk of what the truth may reveal?"

"Oh for god's sake, Drew, stop being so mysterious and tell me what you know, or what you think you know." Mum was uncharacteristically terse with me, but now she had opened a door which couldn't be shut again.

"Okay, mum, well the first thing to tell you is that you are not Alex Delahunty's daughter."

My mother's eyes opened as wide as saucepan lids, she turned a deathly pale and screamed in disbelief. "I don't believe you. Why would you make up such a dreadful and hurtful story, and what would your grandmother say?"

"Mum, grandmother confirmed that this was so. Your real father was actually the then Reverend John Prendergast, now suffragan bishop of the central district. You were conceived during a brief affair that your mother had with the reverend gentleman. He broke off the affair when he realised that your mother was pregnant."

Mum screamed again and burst into tears. "How could she do such a thing? How could she keep this from me? Oh my god, what does this make me?" and she wailed, one long continuous keening over her destroyed past.

I put my arms round mum and stroked her hair, making soothing sounds until she was able to return to the conversation. She looked at me hopelessly through tear blurred eyes. "Drew, I don't think I can take any more," she sobbed, but I went on remorselessly.

"Mum, this needs to come out so you can understand everything that has happened, then and now. You need to understand that your mother is actually a submissive. She needed someone she could trust to control and dominate her so that she could let herself go sexually but still feel secure. Apparently, her husband wasn't able to fill that role, and at some stage she confided in John Prendergast who tried to save mum, but she seduced him and you were the result. When Alex found out, he raped her, and your twin sisters were the result."

Mum looked at me, speechless at first, but then demanded, "So how did you find out about all this?"

"Well, in a sense, you played a role in that when you wanted to get rid of the old desk," I countered. "When I was playing around with it, I discovered some highly incriminating letters between grandmother and John Prendergast. I took those letters with me when I visited grandmother recently. We enjoyed a very interesting conversation; I won't go into details right now, but the upshot of it all was that grandmother admitted her need to submit to someone she could trust ..."

Here, I paused for effect. Mum's mouth was hanging open as a huge collection of emotions boiled through her and flashed across her face.

"Yes, well," I continued. "The outcome was that she asked me, begged me really, to act as her master so that she could submit to me and have me use her in any way that I wish to do. That was why I spent several days there—we spent the time thoroughly enjoying each other and having some really wild sex."

At these words, my mother fainted.

Again, I held her to me as she struggled back to consciousness. She opened her eyes and looked at me with a strange expression on her face. "That's the story, mum, that you insisted on hearing. It's probably better that it's all out in the open—no more secrets."

"But ... but ... but ...she's your GRANDMOTHER, for god's sake. She's forty years older than you. In case you hadn't noticed," sarcasm was not mum's strong suit, "that's incest and it's not only illegal, it's immoral, too."

"As far as illegal is concerned, mum, where's the evidence and who's going to let on? Bob Dylan put it very well once when he said, 'In Jersey anything's legal, as long as you don't get caught'. Immoral only counts if one or the other party doesn't want it, and we were both very enthusiastic participants."

"Drew, I just don't understand ..."

I jumped in, "Mum, don't try to understand, just accept what is."

"Oh honey, I am so confused—this has all come as such a shock to me and it scares me. All my certainties have disappeared and I don't know how to control my world now."

I held her in my arms as she sobbed and whimpered in her fear and uncertainty. "Mum, I think the best thing you can do is to get to bed and have a good night's sleep. It should all look different in the morning."

Mum nodded her head but didn't look convinced. She trudged slowly out of the room to her bedroom and when I listened at her door thirty minutes later, I could hear the soft snores of a sleeping woman. With that, I turned in as well.

I woke suddenly at around 2.00 am, not because of any sound but from an almost subconscious sense that there was another person in my room. There was a dark shape near the door, and when I switched on my bedside light, I could see mum standing there. She was wearing a long silky nightgown, but she had clearly been crying.

"Mum, are you okay? What seems to be the problem?"

"I'm so sorry if I woke you, Drew, but ... but I'm so scared and I haven't been able to sleep," she replied in a trembling voice.

She walked to my bedside and there was a faint smell of alcohol. I guessed she had tried to get to sleep with brandy but had not succeeded. Mum was never a great drinker, and she almost certainly wasn't drunk, but it may have affected her judgement. Her voice was still hesitant when she said, "Drew, honey, I know this is weird and very dangerous and probably stupid, but I feel so alone and so vulnerable. Would you be offended if I asked if I could sleep with you?"

"Oh god, mum, of course I wouldn't be in the slightest bit offended; I feel honoured that you would be prepared to take that chance. It is a risk, you know, mum—if you spend the night with me, our relationship can never be the same again."

"I know, honey, but nothing makes sense any more and I just need to find something or someone I can trust to hold me and protect me from the monsters under the bed," mum gave me a rather watery smile, and I held back the single sheet I was using on this warm night.

Mum slipped into bed and cuddled up to me, whispering, "Hold me, Drew, darling, please hold me close and don't let me go."

I knew that I now risked taking advantage of her vulnerability and possibly of her use of alcohol, but the closeness of her soft, warm and very inviting body was causing me to develop a quite demanding erection.

I decided to test the waters. "Mum, I've got a suggestion. It's a bit cramped in here—why don't we both go back to your big king sized bed where we'll have a bit more room and I'll check under the bed to make sure the monsters have disappeared!"

I heard mum laugh gently and she said, "Sure, honey, that sound like a good idea."

Now came the point of no return. "Good, mum, and if we do so, I'd like you to take off your nightdress before you get back into bed."

Mum gasped, then said, "I see—sounds like the monster will be in the bed rather than under it."

"Well, if you put it that way, maybe you're right. Will that make a difference to you?" I queried.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," she responded noncommittally and left my room.

I gave mum a few minutes before I went to her room; her bedside light was on and she was covered by a single sheet.

I lifted the sheet and slid in beside her and putting out my hand, stroked my way right down her naked body.

"Drew, this is so wrong, but I can't help it. You're the only guy I can really trust, even after you admitted to seducing my mother. I do trust you, and I need you to hold me and protect me and ... ," mum hesitated and I knew enough to keep quiet while she strengthened her resolve, "and to love me," she concluded.

She turned to me and wrapped her arms round my chest, whispering, "Please love me, Drew; hold me close and make me feel safe. I know I'm your mother, and this is forbidden, but ..."

I stopped her by the most effective way I knew. I kissed her hard, mouth closed but leaving her in no doubt about my intentions. The second kiss was quite different. Her generous lips were open and hunting for my response, which came immediately. We kissed, mouths open and our tongues washed over each other in a sweet, warm moist encounter.

As we kissed, I let my hand slip down the side of her body, gliding over the soft swell of her breast and the enticing curve of her hip to the rich, full cheek of her butt. Mum sighed and hummed and her kiss became more demanding, her mouth working hard against mine in a show of mounting passion.

I broke the kiss and propped myself onto one elbow and looked deep into her eyes. "Two important things, mum. First, under the circumstances, I think it might be better if I call you Beth rather than mum when we are close and intimate like this. Second, are you absolutely certain this isn't just the brandy talking?"

"No, Drew I'm just a scared little mouse looking for somewhere to hide, and your arms are the best hiding place I could think of. Please call me Beth," she replied quietly. "That sounds so wicked but it takes away the idea that we are mother and son."

I eased over to Beth and started little butterfly kisses all over her face, then down her neck and behind her ear, which made her hum and purr. I bit her earlobe which changed the hum to a squeak, then stroked my hands down from her neck and shoulders to the swell of her cushiony breasts.

Beth's breasts were soft and smooth with large areolas now crinkled with excitement and tubular nipples that had become hard and pointing outwards as if reaching up to be kissed, sucked and bitten. Her skin was warm and silky smooth, and a delight to kiss and caress, actions which drew a series of soft gasps and deep moans from her.

Then I diverted my attention to her tits, stroking slowly upwards from underneath until almost reaching her areolas, then moving to the sides and repeating the dose. Bet murmured, "Yes, yes, more, please god, more, don't stop, oh, oh, oh, aargh, please Drew, stop teasing me and kiss my nipples."




Degradation & Redemption Act 02



I did as commanded, but the commands kept coming. "Please, darling, bite them, ... this is so good, please don't stop" she finished with a gasp.

Once more, I did as I was commanded, biting into the sensitive tips causing her to squeal, partly with pain, but much more with pleasure. Then I took it one step further and pinched each nipple hard, pulling them out from her chest and forming soft, tensioned cones of tit flesh. I continued to twist each nipple and Beth screamed, "Oh god, this hurts so good. This is some sort of magic, ooh, mmm, yes, more, more, ooh I'm starting to cum—I don't believe it, I've never ..." She went into a series of micro orgasms, shuddering and jerking and moaning in her orgasmic delirium.

I let go of her tits and Beth whined in frustration, but her delight returned when I stroked my hand across her slit. It was saturated with her juices, and I wiped one finger into her pussy, then put it into her open mouth. She mewled with pleasure, sucking my finger as if it was my cock, something I noted for future reference.

"So what would you most like now, Beth?" I queried, somewhat unnecessarily.

"Oh please, Drew, please put your thing into my vagina," she moaned.

"Not good enough, Beth, you need to be totally explicit."

"Oooh okay, you dreadful man. Please, Drew, please, fuck my hot quivering pussy with your big forceful cock."

"Much better, you beautiful woman. We'll start with a missionary encounter, but ..." here I looked at her and said, "You don't have any form of protection, do you?" Beth shook her head. "Much as I hate condoms, I'm going to use one tonight—getting you knocked up isn't on my agenda," I commented. So saying I ripped open a condom packet I'd hidden under the pillow and rolled it on. Next time, you can put it on for me," I suggested, and Beth responded with a breathy "Hmmm."

I moved down between her legs as she spread them wide. I got onto hands and knees and positioned her legs on my shoulders, moving in until I could stroke my by now totally rigid, weeping cock along her lips.

"Yes, yes, oh please don't make me wait too long," she gasped, but I continued to tease her, nudging the tip of her searching clit with my cock, causing her to gasp even more. Then I reached down and inserted first one then two fingers into her hot, wet cunt and she screamed with anticipation.

"Oh god, Drew, just do it to me, fuck me until I can't take any more. And then keep going until I blow apart at the seams."

"Ooh yes, that's going to be fun," I laughed and, removing my fingers, nudged my cock into the entrance to her pussy. Beth pushed forwards, trying to force me to impale her, but I was still going to tease her for a little longer as she groaned in frustration. Then, having got properly into position, I entered her with one long, slow forceful push until I was balls deep in her hot, wet quim.

God, she was hot, and unexpectedly tight, too, although I guess kitty hadn't seen much action recently. I began to stroke in and out of her silky cunt with the muscles gripping me as I went in and relaxing as I moved out. Beth whimpered in a continuous series of hums, gasps and meaningless erotic whispers.

"Oh Drew, Drew, Drew, I need you so much. I'm going to cum all over your beautiful cock" 

Beth's hands gripped the sheets on the bed and she cried out as her climax built to unstoppable levels. I could feel mine developing, too with the electric tingling in my lower abdomen, extending to my balls and the sense that sperm were gathering themselves for a final blasting rush—although this time safely into a plastic bag!

I continued to plunge hard into her open and receptive channel with a beautiful sense that I was able to conquer her helpless pussy leaving it totally at my mercy. My reaming thrusts soon achieved the much desired result as Beth's orgasm overtook her. She gave a harsh scream that could have woken the neighbours, then shook and trembled as if she was having a seizure.

This was enough for me, and the cum that had been building in my cock erupted like a volcano, and I howled in triumph as I emptied my whole spend into the condom.

Finally, Beth went completely rigid, her cunt still clinging to my victorious cock until eventually we both crashed into reality and lay gasping on the bed.

"Drew, oh god, Drew, what happened?" she gasped.

"Are you sure you don't know?" I laughed gently. "Seems to me that you had an A class, grade 1 earth shaking orgasm. Well, anyway, I did and it felt as if you did too."

Beth rolled over and kissed me, a long, soft, wet lingering kiss. "Now just hold me," she whispered and wriggled herself to me as close as she could get. "I want to go to sleep in your arms and know that I'm safe."

I certainly couldn't argue with that; I wrapped my arms round her and we slept.

Beth was already up when I woke next morning, a lot later than I had originally planned. I ambled into the kitchen and she looked up and smiled shyly. "Hi, honey," she greeted me, "I think we need to talk."

"Yes, we do, gorgeous," I replied, "but breakfast first so that I've got the stamina for a good long conversation."

After feeding ourselves we adjourned to the lounge and sat in easy chairs facing each other.

"Oh Drew," mum eventually burst out, "I'm so scared and so confused. It's almost as if last night was a dream and I can't seem to deal with all the feelings that it created. What am I going to do?" She sounded quite plaintive and as if she was completely lost.

"I may not be the best person to ask that question, Beth; I have an answer, but you may not like it. First, though, tell me, was there anything that happened last night that you hated or found offensive or generally didn't like?"

"God no, Drew. It was wonderful and it took me to places that I've never been before and I do want it to happen again. But I can't seem to overcome the fear of what will happen if we are found out or the deeply ingrained feeling that, no matter how beautiful the experience was, it was morally wrong. I feel so weak—I so wanted to let go, but you're my son and that sort of thing must never happen."

"Mum, we've been through all this before, and there seems to be a brick wall around you preventing you from becoming what you need to be. So I'm going to give you just two options for the future. Either you can walk away from last night and pretend that it never happened, and I won't try to stop you. If you do, we will still have to redefine our relationship, but it will be at arms length, and I expect that early next year I'll move out. You will be alone; I'll still keep in touch, but the closeness of our relationship will gradually fade."

She looked at me with tears starting to form and shook her head violently but didn't speak.

"The other alternative may seem even worse. You will surrender yourself to me, become my sex slave and willingly accept me as your master. I will have unrestricted access to your body and you will do what I say when I say it. You will dress as I tell you and if you are unwise enough to disobey me, you may be punished."

"I don't know whether I could, honey. There would be no safety or security for me and I would be at your whim whenever the fancy took you." She was still apprehensive and nervous about the consequences.

"The other side of the coin is that I would keep you safe, protect you and give you as much security as is in my power to provide. I will not physically damage you, prostitute you to other men or publicly humiliate you. Yes, you would be at my whim, but," and here I looked directly into her eyes, holding hers to me, "I believe that that is what you most want. You want, no, you need someone to dominate you, so that you can release your pent up sexuality with someone you trust. That was what happened last night, wasn't it?" 

Mum's voice trembled again as she whispered, "Yes, honey."

"So, Beth, do we have a deal? Are you prepared to be my sex slave on those terms?"

She was still hesitant, but got as far as, "I guess so."

"Hmm, that's hardly an unrestricted acceptance. Okay, mum, what's the problem? I thought the choice was clear enough."

"Honey, this is too much for me to take in all at once. I know I need someone strong to look after me and care for me and the idea of you controlling me and using my body does make me feel weak at the knees. I also know, though, that once I let go and give myself to you totally, there's no turning back and that scares me."

"I can see that, mum but there may be an answer. How about we invite your mother over here so that she can tell you what it's like to be submissive. What do you think?"

Mum looked a little doubtful, but replied, "Okay, honey, I'll give her a call now," and went to the phone. There was no answer, and we agreed to try again after lunch.

"Beth", I said a little later, "I want you to make an appointment with your doctor and have him prescribe the pill. I don't want to risk you getting pregnant, and I hate condoms."

"Okay, honey," she grinned at me, "I can't say that they turn me on much either. Besides, I really want to feel your beautiful cock in my ... in my pussy. There, I said it!"

I grinned in return, and jumping out of my chair, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back to my chair. "C'mere you lovely creature," I growled and pulled her down to sit on my lap.

Mum was still only wearing a simple house-coat that buttoned down the front—and nothing else.

I stroked her soft hair and drew her head to me, kissing her lightly, without any obvious sexual intent. In return, mum kissed me hungrily, sliding her tongue into my mouth. She worked her tongue over and underneath mine, gasping and holding my head tightly seeming to tell me that she wanted to be my woman, but as yet unwilling to acknowledge it openly.

I slid my hands down to the buttons on her housecoat, undoing them slowly from the top. I slipped my hand into the opening and stroked it across her soft breast, flicking the already hard nipple and making her gasp.

Then it happened again. Mum pulled away from me and looked at me, panic-stricken and trembling. "Oh Drew, oh Drew, I so much want ... but something is stopping me letting go completely. I need you, but I can't just shut my eyes and jump."

"Mum," I replied, my frustration becoming apparent. "A few minutes ago you told me quite plainly that you want to feel my cock in your pussy. Now you're running away again. Look, I gave you two options; become my slave or walk away and we will live our own lives. Which will it be, mum; I don't have infinite patience," and sighing, I walked out of the room.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang and I left it to mum to answer it. I was astonished when I heard mum say, "Mother, this is a surprise. Drew and I were just talking about you; what brings you here?"

I also heard Olivia reply, "Is that gorgeous son of yours at home? I'd really like to see him."

I walked into the lounge to be confronted by Olivia looking absolutely stunning. She was wearing a tight black skirt in some shimmering material, topped off by an electric blue lightweight blouse. Her silver mane glowed and her makeup was only slightly over-emphasised but it added to the picture of a wholly desirable and enchanting woman. This was further accentuated by smoky grey seamed stockings and 3" heels. Olivia was dressed to make the maximum impact at first sight.

If her appearance was stunning, her immediate reaction as I entered the room was almost overwhelming. She glided across the room to stand in front of me, but then dropped to her hands and knees and kissed my feet. After she had done so, she looked up into my eyes and whispered, "Master". I heard mum gasp with amazement.

I was just able to retain my composure albeit with a huge struggle, then leant down and as I put my hand under her chin, she rose to her feet.

I looked her straight in the eyes. "Well, well my pet, what brings you here?"

"Oh master, I so needed to see you, to be with you and have you use me as your slut."

"I see", I replied, trying to put an edge into my voice. "That sounds very pleasing, but I don't seem to remember you asking my permission to come here without an invitation? I believe that would justify punishment for presumption."

Olivia looked at the floor, but only murmured, "Yes, master." Mum gasped again, and I continued. "Louder, slut, 'yes master' what?"

In a normal voice this time, Olivia said, "Yes, master, I have behaved disrespectfully and I need to be punished. Please spank me, but could this unworthy slut beg you to please do it with your hand and not with the crop?"

"Hmm," I pretended to ponder, although I was having difficulty hiding my growing erection. "Yes, that is not unreasonable—I don't think this warrants the crop—this time. Very well, strip down to your bra and panties and be ready to assume the position across my lap."

Olivia's visit was highly fortuitous, although I certainly wouldn't let her know that. It gave me the opportunity to demonstrate submissive behaviour to mum and what she might expect if I was her dom.

Olivia now stood quietly waiting, dressed only in a small black lacy bra together with stay-ups and tiny black silk panties. Her bra was clearly having difficulty controlling her high set breasts with their nipples attempting to bore holes in it. 

"Excellent", I leered. "Now, mum, I need you to come over here and remove my slut's bra and panties."

"But ... but ... that's not right. Oh Drew, please don't make me do this," mum whimpered.

Olivia was ready for this and in a voice that sounded like warm chocolate said, "Beth, my dear, please help me. I adore my master and I'd really like to think you can join in and feel some of the thrills and excitement that I have started to experience quite recently. Beth, it's totally enthralling and I do so want you to be part of it. Please?"

Olivia could be very persuasive and mum moved slowly behind her, first unclipping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Then she hooked her thumbs into the band of Olivia's panties and dragged them down her smooth slender legs to the floor.

"Thank you, my dear—this is just the start of what I think will be a magic journey."

"Master, how many spanks do I need for a proper punishment?" Olivia asked as she placed herself carefully across my lap with her bottom angled perfectly for effective strikes.

"Twenty, I think on this occasion, I answered, then added, "Mum, please count the strokes for me and tell us both the number so that there is no confusion."

Olivia moaned lightly and I then started the punishment. The first six strokes, three on each cheek were relatively light and delivered with a cupped palm, making a satisfying noise but without too much pain. Mum counted in a rather hesitant voice, but there was, as yet, no sound from Olivia.

For maximum effect, this had to change, and I increased the weight of my strikes and used the flat of my hand. This produced an instant reaction starting with squeals as I landed the first blows, then a loud scream with every strike as the number rose higher. 16, 17, 18, 19, 20; by this time, Olivia was screaming and thrashing on my lap but she stayed in place. Her bottom was a bright cherry red and hot to the touch.

She stood and as she did so, I noticed a damp patch on the front of my slacks, for Olivia, a not unexpected reaction to spanking; she got off on the stinging pain that stimulated her pussy juices.

She looked at me with half closed eyes and smiled in a way that told me that she was ready to devour me given half a chance.

I had other ideas. "Mum, now your journey will move on. You must come over to Olivia and run your finger along her pussy so that you can see her reaction to being spanked. At first she hesitated at such a suggestion but Olivia was wildly enthusiastic. "Oh god, yes, please, I beg you master, make her stroke my kitty, make her feel me, ooh yes, oh god, please, Beth please do it for me, I so want to feel you touch me."

Mum apparently felt that she had no option, and slowly moved over to her mother, gently stroking her finger backwards and forwards over her slit. Olivia moaned in satisfaction mewling and crying out in her delight. As she finished, Olivia commanded her, "Now give me your hand," and as she did so, Olivia licked her juices from her daughter's hand, humming with pleasure as she did so. Then she held her daughter close to her, stroking her hair and whispering soft endearments.

"Yes, my pet, that was very touching," I said, with at least an appearance of sincerity. "I think you deserve a reward; what would you like it to be?"

"Fuck me, master, fuck me until I scream for release and then fuck me until I explode with my orgasm."

I looked at this gorgeous woman, begging me to take her hard and my erection just about exploded through my pants. The thought that I might get mum to undress me flashed through my mind, but I resisted the temptation, and within a minute I was buck naked. "In my bedroom, I think—and mum, I want you to be there to watch how a good slut pleases her master."

"Now, bitch," I addressed Olivia, "we will do it my way. You will straddle me, cowgirl fashion so that I can see and play with your mouth watering tits."

Olivia giggled. "Whatever my master desires I shall perform willingly."

I laid on the bed and Olivia climbed carefully up and lifted one leg over mine and crawled into position, with her saturated pussy almost touching the tip of my straining cock. Then slowly, she lowered herself down and I entered her hot, welcoming love tunnel, my full length gliding smoothly into her. Olivia gasped with pleasure as I went the full distance, jerking my hips to achieve maximum penetration. She started moving up and down, slowly at first but with increasing speed as her cunt responded to the intense stimulation.

I reached up and caressed her proud tits, pinching and pulling her hard, tubular nipples, causing her to moan and cry with the fusion of pleasure and pain.

"Ooh yes, master, pinch my nipples, please hurt me, and make me feel all the ecstasy that you create in me. Oh fuck, this is so good, so very good, fuck me master, do me hard, cum inside me and make me scream!"

Olivia moved backwards and forwards for maximum effect and moaned in frustration when I stopped playing with her tits. I held her hips tight and started pulling her up and down, increasing the penetration and causing her to gasp and cry out. She was particularly vocal; a continuous stream of hums alternating with long drawn out "aargh's" was broken by demands to, "fuck me harder," "oh god, make me cum," "use that big dick on me and make me its slave," "this is so fucking good," "don't ever stop, you motherfucker," "I'm going to drown your cock with my juices," and a variety of other expressions of rapture and sexual hunger.

The pressure of her clinging muscles, the heat of her channel and her lust fuelled movements around my cock were rapidly having a delightful effect on me, and I could feel the cum building up ready to explode. My balls were starting to draw up and the potent sensation just this side of pain was growing in my cock.

Olivia's experience was growing too, as her demands were replaced by a scream, building rapidly in a crescendo until it reached an almost painful level. Her cunt muscles went into overdrive, my cock swelled and I made one final hard thrust as I pumped a load of seed deep into her leaking, pulsating pussy.

She went rigid and shook violently as her orgasm raced through her whole body, and I held her tight as she shook and whimpered through the afterglow.

Olivia rolled off me, then leant up on one elbow and looked at me. "Ooh master, that was wonderful—when can we do it again?" she asked with a laugh in her voice.

"Insatiable little slut, aren't you?" Then I turned to look at mum. "So how did that affect you, mum? What did you think of your mother's performance as my fuck slut?"




Degradation & Redemption Act 02



"Oh god, I've never ... I just couldn't imagine anything so depraved. But I couldn't take my eyes off you both and the intense satisfaction that you both seemed to be getting." Mum seemed to be quite tense and unsettled.

"I see, mum, so stand up and run your finger along your slit and tell me how wet you are," I demanded.

She turned away, blushing furiously.

"Do it, mum—I want you to tell us both how turned on you were by seeing your son fucking your mother."

Mum slowly lowered her hand to her crotch and stroked across it, bringing her hand up into the light. It was noticeably wet. "I ... oh god I've never experienced anything even remotely like this. The image of you two together almost delirious with joy is burned into my brain," she whispered.

"Do you wish it would go away?" I asked but she shook her head. She hesitated but said slowly, "I got so excited by what I saw, but the conventional part of my brain still doesn't want to let go."

"Hmm" I said, then turning to Olivia, I commented provocatively, "By the way, I notice that you've shaved your pussy; I don't remember giving you permission to do that, did I?" 

This took Olivia rather by surprise, but she tried to defend herself. "I thought you would like it. I thought you would like to feel my smooth, silky pussy?"

"I do, but that's not the point. You didn't ask permission, and I think that deserves further punishment, don't you?" I asked using my best dom manner.

"I don't know, master that is for you to decide" she was appropriately submissive.

"I know, why don't we ask Beth to be the referee and decide whether you should be punished," I continued the provocation. "Beth, what do you think? Should your mother be punished again for her misbehaviour?"

"I don't really know," her voice trembled, "I can't make that sort of decision, I'm not ..."

Then all of a sudden, everything changed. Beth's voice became a high pitched screech, "Spank her, spank her, spank her, hurt her, humiliate me, make me scream ..."

There was a dead silence before I turned to Olivia. "I think your punishment will need to be put on hold for a while, and perhaps for the time being we might revert to Olivia and Drew rather than slut and master. I think we need to help Beth work through this crisis."

"Yes, absolutely, Drew" she replied and walked over to where Beth was sitting, perched on the arm of the chair and wrapped her arms around her daughter, comforting her and making soothing noises.

Beth burst into tears, but this didn't last long, and she gathered herself together. "Drew, Olivia," she said, "Now I've seen what the relationship between you two is like, it suddenly burst on me that I want to be part of it. I really do want to be your slave, Drew."

"Okay, mum, but do you remember what I told you about this earlier on? You will surrender yourself to me and willingly accept me as your master. I will have unrestricted access to your body and you will do what I say and when I say it. You will dress as I tell you and I may punish you if you disobey."

"Yes, honey ... I mean yes, master. I agree completely, and I do so want you to control me and make me do things that you like, because I know I will like them too. Only, please be kind to me master; I don't have any experience of being submissive although I know that this is right for me, and really, it's what I have wanted my whole life."

Okay, mum," I smiled at her. "Now tell me what you are."

Beth responded quite rapidly, "I am your fuck toy and you can use me in any way you want. I am your slut and yours alone, I am your hot, horny little bitch to be serviced whenever and however you choose. I am your whore, although, please, I beg of you, master, keep me for yourself and don't lend me out to anyone else."

"Well done, slut, you do have a very good grasp of your new reality, although there is one small variation I would like to add. As to lending you out," here Beth shivered, "I do think it will be a good idea if you are also available to your mother."

Olivia squealed with joy. "Ooh yes, master, I would so like to have sex with my daughter."

Beth's reaction was different. "Oh god, I've never done it with a woman, I don't know what to do, I'm scared—oh mummy, please help me to be a good girl."

"Beth, my darling daughter, I will be totally patient with you and show you how good it can be to be with a woman who you love and who loves and cares for you. Of course," Olivia laughed and turned to me, "there's no substitute for a large, hot, rigid cock plumbing your depths and making you cum, but a woman can be pretty good too."

"Okay, you pair of hot pussies," I smiled, "Olivia, why don't you initiate Beth into the joys of lesbian sex?"

Olivia laughed with delight and took her rather hesitant daughter by the hand. "Now Beth, my dear, come and lie on your back on the bed, and let me caress your sweet body."

So saying Olivia ran a hand up Beth's body, starting just above her fair muff, softly and gently across her stomach and up to her breasts. She ran her hands around the soft swell of Beth's tits before capturing her nipples and pulling them so that her tits stood out like cones. Beth groaned and squealed gently at the sensations flowing through her breasts and down to stimulate the juices in her pussy. Releasing those beautiful orbs, Olivia moved up and kissed Beth with an open mouth; Beth responded in the same way, and they were soon bathing each other with their saliva, tongues writhing together with lustful groans and hums as they did so.

Olivia broke the kiss then looked deeply into Beth's eyes; she told me later that she could only see urgent, wanton desire in those eyes. "Beth, I am going to kiss your pussy and get you so worked up you will hardly know who you are, let alone where you are. Would you like me to do this?"

"Oh my god," Beth cried out loud, "Yes, yes, do it now. Oh mummy, I want it so much. Get me ready for our master so that he can take a proper slave who wants to worship him, not just some pale shadow like I've been in the past."

"Mmm, yes, I think you're primed and ready you hot little whore," Olivia was very enthusiastic and pushing her shoulders up under Beth's legs, plunged her tongue into Beth's hot, leaking pussy.

"Ooh, mmm, yes, oh yes, please don't stop, this is so good, eat me, mummy, eat my hot hole until I scream. I want it so much, hmm ... hmm ... hmm, ooh yes, please, aargh, you are so good to me, make me cum, oh god, make me cum."

By this time, Beth was thrashing around on the bed and Olivia was having a hard time controlling her. I was having a hard time, too, but that was quite different—but no less delightful!

Olivia grasped her daughter's hips firmly and switched to flicking Beth's clit with the tip of her tongue. At the same time she released one hand and inserted first one finger, then quickly a second into Beth's hot, wet quim.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Beth screamed at the top of her voice and shook as her first climax flooded through her. Olivia stopped briefly, but then continued her oral ravishment of her daughter's sex and Beth went through a series of orgasms, each one slightly greater than the last. Eventually, Olivia started nibbling at Beth's clit as well as stroking now three fingers into and out of her pussy. Beth lost all control and thrashed so hard that she dislodged Olivia but by this time her final tremendous orgasm had peaked. Beth screamed and cried in her passion, gasping and making incomprehensible sounds, seemingly about how she felt and the effect that Olivia's mouth had had on her.

I climbed onto the bed and held Beth on one side while Olivia did the same on the other. We stroked and caressed her, whispering soft words of love and support to her while she came down from this mountainous climax.

Beth looked first at Olivia, then at me, and murmured, "Oh god, I love you both so much," and then burst into tears. We stayed there with her while she calmed down again and gave us both a rather watery smile, but one that was full of love and excitement.

Olivia was the first to speak and her voice was full of mischief. "Okay, master, now what would you have us do? Or are you so exhausted from watching your pets in action that you can't take any more?"

"Oh no," I growled deep in my throat. "Now it's my turn for some action. I want you both to get down on your hands and knees and crawl over to me and give me a joint blowjob that will tear my cock apart."

"Ooh yes, come on, Beth, let's show master what good little sluts we really are", Olivia was most enthusiastic.

I stood as they knelt in front of me, and Beth looked upwards with devotion on her face. "We are hot horny bitches who want to service their master;" she was unusually self-assured.

Now Olivia took over, "Beth, you lick his balls—use plenty of saliva and don't be afraid to take them into your mouth, but you must be gentle, or master will be very cross. I'm going to lick his beautiful cock, up and down the shaft and suck on that swollen and angry looking helmet."

I found this running commentary very stimulating, and pre-cum started to ooze from my cock. Olivia was delighted and licked it eagerly. "Ooh Beth, quickly, you just have to taste this—it is so delicious."

With that, I had two infatuated tongues jostling to lick around my increasingly sensitive glans.

I knew that I could not hold out very long under this treatment, and my orgasm was accelerated when Olivia started sucking hard, taking a substantial length of my growing cock into her hot vigorous mouth.

My hands tangled into their hair as I hummed, gasped and moaned as my balls pulled up and the electric tingling in my lower abdomen and my cock signalled the start of a full blown climax. Both of my gorgeous subs continued their devoted licking and sucking until with a deep groan my cum thundered up through my cock. With a great determination, I was able to shoot my load over each set of tits, giving Olivia and Beth a generous helping of spunk.

"Well done, my pets," I smiled at them both. "Now you must finish what you started. Olivia, you must lick my cum from Beth's tits and Beth, lick my spend from Olivia. Then you must both come back and clean me up with your tongues."

They licked and sucked each other's tits, as much for their own gratification as for any need to clean up, but they both translated that dedication to cleaning my satisfied cock.

Their chores complete, I received a soft, warm affectionate kiss from both my subs as they dressed after their earlier naked exertions.

"Master, I need to leave, I'm afraid," Olivia seemed truly contrite, "as I have a business commitment that I can't really escape from. Of course, if you were to order me to stay I would have no option but to do so, but ..."

"No, my delicious slut, you must go, and I hope it won't be too long before we're together again," I instructed her.

Olivia did not leave immediately, but stayed staring at Beth and myself with a concentration that I found mildly disconcerting. I was about to speak when she burst out with rapid-fire enthusiasm.

"Drew, Beth, I've just had the most wonderful idea. Beth, why don't you sell this place and you can both come and live with me and we can be together all the time and ..."

I interrupted immediately with a wide grin, "and fuck like demented rabbits, I suppose?"

Olivia attempted a dignified reply, but her laughter gave her away, "That's not quite what I had in mind, but if opportunities present themselves, well we would be foolish not to take advantage of them!"

"Olivia, it sounds like a very attractive proposition; let me talk it over with mum and we'll get back to you VERY soon."

"Thank you Dre ... master," she took my hand and kissed it then shimmied out of the front door, blowing a kiss to Beth as she did so.

I turned to Beth, now standing silently looking at me with a look of total devotion and affection on her face.

"I don't know what the proper form of address is," she started. "I don't know whether to call you honey, Drew, master or my love, so please don't be upset with me, but honey, I want to do anything and everything that you want, so long as I am protected by your love and care."

"Oh, my wonderful, devoted mum, my sweet Beth, my exciting sub, I love you so much, I'm never going to let you go. You're stuck with me for the duration, gorgeous, so you'd better get used to it, although you do need to be quite explicit about what you want from me."

"What I most want is for you to make love to me without any limits. I want to belong to you and you can do anything you like to me. I want to be able to feel safe with you and trust you so that I can give my submissive nature free rein. This is the first time I've really been able to let go, and I intend to do just that and be your sex slave."

"You've got yourself a deal, Beth, and my aim is to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I don't think I'm really a full-blown dom; I like my subs to feel comfortable with me, and know that I will never do anything to damage them so we can have fun together and mutually enjoy our bodies."

Beth looked at me again, seriously this time, "Mmm, that sounds wonderful. So how would you really feel about moving in with Olivia? I think it has some definite advantages, particularly now she seems so much more agreeable, now that you've tamed her," mum smiled.

"Okay, mum, I agree with you, but strictly on the understanding that any capital sum from the sale of this place is for you," and before she could object, I jumped back in. "No, Beth, as your master, this is about the strongest order I will ever give you. The money is for you to use at your discretion, and I won't try to influence you in any direction."

"Thank you, my love, I understand, but isn't there something I can do to express my gratitude?" Beth seemed wholly innocent and without any hidden agenda.

"Well, yes, there is, seeing as you ask. Get into your bedroom, take all your clothes off, and when I come in, be prepared to fuck me like you've never done before. Okay, slut?"

"Ooh yes master, I can hardly wait," and she rushed from the room almost panting in anticipation.

When I went to the room a few minutes later, she was sitting on the bed, propped against the bed head, her legs wide apart, stroking her pussy and humming softly with excitement and anticipation.

"How do you want your fuck toy, master; I'm feeling very hot and horny, please don't make me wait too long."

"Very well, you sex-crazed bitch, doggy fashion, I think so that I can spank your arse or reach round and pinch your tits."

"Mmm yes, master, please I beg you, do me now."

My mother knelt on the bed, presenting her sweetly curved arse to me; I removed my clothes in record time and peeled open a condom pack, rolling it on at top speed. I climbed up behind her, giving each cheek a satisfying slap as I did so. She squealed but stayed in place, and I stroked my rigid cock along her slick and creamy cunt lips. She gasped and hummed, trying to move backwards and impale herself on my cock, begging me to fuck her and pump her full of my cum.

I was very specific. "Sorry, my passionate whore, but no cum for you until you are on the pill." She moaned in disappointment, but wriggled her arse invitingly, and I took the hint and plunged my cock into her quivering love channel, causing her to gasp and shake.

I rode my mother hard, leaning forward and pinching and tugging at her nipples, and she screamed with the potent blend of pain and arousal. Neither of us lasted long, and she came with a powerful orgasm, screaming and shaking in her delight. That was enough to send me over the edge, and I came hard, my cock swelling in her clutching cunt giving me an orgasm I would long remember.

We showered together, washing each other in minute detail, laughing and making silly jokes. Then we slept together, really slept, with Beth curled close into me as if seeking my protection.

The next day was the first day of the rest of our lives. We made some big choices; Beth made a doctor's appointment for the pill and approached a land agent with a view to putting the house on the market. I rang Olivia to tell her our decision, and she whooped with delight. "Make it soon master; I've got so many wonderful ideas for what we can do together."

Later in the day, I took Beth in my arms and looked deep into her eyes. "Well, mum, any regrets?"

"Oh yes, my love," she replied with a clear twinkle in her eyes. "But only one and that is that I didn't entice you into being my master a long time ago. It's all good now, though," and we sealed the deal with a deep, passionate, hot, wet, satisfying kiss.

*

Thank you for reading this far. I don't intend to extend this story, at least right now, although I recognise that there are further directions that could be explored. Once again, any comments or feedback will be appreciated.