"Mom! What the hell are you doing in my room?" Charlie demanded furiously.
Carla jumped guiltily. The brown envelope slipped from her fingers, hit the floor with a thud. "Charlie! Wh-what are you doing home?" she asked faintly.
"I live here, remember?" he snapped. "And this is my room. My room! What are you doing in my room?"
"I-I was just – uh – I was – ah – uh – straightening up a little bit," Carla stammered awkwardly.
"You were snooping."
"No!" Carla squeaked feebly. "No, I wasn't snooping, I wasn't!"
"You were snooping in my room, in my closet!" Charlie said angrily, stalking across to her. "You must've been in pretty deep to have found this," he growled, picking up the porno magazine and waving it accusingly in her face.
"What are you doing with – with filth like that!" Carla shot back, going on the attack.
"How do you know it's filth?" Charlie asked. "You haven't opened the envelope yet. How do you know what's in it? You must've snooped in here before! This isn't even the first time you've pried into my privacy, is it?" Charlie asked furiously. "Well, now, that's just too much, that is too fucking much! Jesus, Mom, I thought we trusted each other. Goddamn! Snooping in my room! I trusted you!"
Carla felt as if a knife were being twisted into her guts. Still holding the envelope, Charlie turned away from her, turned his back on her, and stared morosely out the window. She made a move towards him, then drew her hand back. She was desperately fighting back her tears. She wasn't even sure why she had done what she had done. No, that wasn't true. It was really ridiculously simple. Horny, she had sought out his porno magazine.
She hadn't been snooping. This time, all she had been seeking was relief from her sexual tensions. After the crazy, disgusting episode with Ross Caldwell a week ago, she had been celibate. But it had whetted her appetite. Now, because of stupid physical desires, she had shattered Charlie's trust in her. It had been hard to reject his incestuous interest in her, but she couldn't violate that taboo again. She couldn't have a son who was a – mother-fucker.
Now, though, she was in danger of having no son at all. Which was even more frightening. The thought that she might lose Charlie completely horrified her. He was all she had. She had to somehow regain his trust.
"Charlie?" she asked hesitantly.
"What?" he said sullenly, his back still towards her.
"Charlie, please, don't – don't do this to me," Carla begged.
"Do what?"
"Just, cut me off like this. I did wrong. I did a terrible thing, but don't just cut me off!"
No answer.
"Punish me, if you like, but do-don't just ignore me," she pleaded desperately. "Don't just ignore me, please. Please, Charlie?" Her voice trailed off forlornly.
Silence. She thought she had been struck deaf. Then she heard the humming of her overloaded brain, the soft rush of the blood in her arteries. The room sparkled around her as she held her breath, waited for her son's verdict.
The muscles in Charlie's neck and shoulders were as hard as stone. He glared blindly out the window. "Go to your room," he ordered harshly. "Go to your room and get undressed."
"Ye-yes, Charlie," she said softly, a catch in her voice.
"Wait for me there," he continued, still not turning around.
"Yes, Charlie," she agreed humbly. "Undressed?" she asked faintly.
"Completely."
"But…"
"Don't argue, just do it," he said, cutting her off bluntly. Without realizing it, he had used the same words his father used to use on him.
"Yes, Charlie," Carla agreed softly. She left his room. Fear was burrowing through her like a little animal, bringing out cold sweat. It wasn't just fear fl of the spanking she knew she was going to get. It was dread of the effect her nudity was going to have on her son. There was dread of what her own reaction to being nude in front of him was going to be. Already, just thinking about it, she had a hot, melting feeling deep in her guts. And then there was still the horniness that had triggered the whole sorry mess.
She shook as she slowly removed her robe. She concentrated on meticulously straightening it after hanging it carefully on its hook. But the motions only made her more aware of her nudity. The cool air touched her amused nipples and exposed pussy. Then, she waited. She wondered what was taking him so long. The longer she waited, the greater her agony of anticipation became. Her nerves were drawn as tight as a violin string.
After she left his room, Charlie stood staring out his window for a long time. His fury was like a white-hot fire in him. It was the last straw as far as he was concerned. It was the culmination of day after day after day of frustration and aggravation. He had twice heard her turn down a date with Eric Jameson. Three times she had slammed her bedroom door in his face when he had walked past. Whether she knew it or not, she had been tormenting him with her body.
Well, now she was going to learn just who the man of the house was. He had done wrong, and been punished. Now she had done wrong, and he was going to punish her, bring her to her senses once and for all.
He knew she was strong. He didn't want her escaping before the scene was played out. Going to his closet, he took the four neckties off the rack. The wide leather belt caught his eye, so he took that, too. Then, tense and determined, he stalked down the hall to her room.
He paused in the doorway. His mouth suddenly went dry at the sight of her. She didn't see him at first. She was looking at herself in the full-length mirror. He studied her tits – the tits he had suckled on as a baby. He surveyed her hips and the loins that had borne him. He got all hot inside and his resolve to punish, her wavered. Then, she turned, startled. The fear in her eyes was mingled with relief, and his resolve hardened. He started towards her.
Carla's first reaction on seeing him had been relief – relief that he was still clothed. Then she had caught sight of the belt in his hand, and been paralyzed with fear. The neckties only puzzled her.
"If you fight me, it'll go all the harder for you," he informed her bluntly.
"Please don't tie me up," Carla begged, suddenly realizing what the neckties were for. She would be absolutely defenseless. He would be able to do anything to her he wanted. She was terrified.
"Give me your wrist," he ordered.
"Please," Carla begged, cringing back away from him.
Impatiently, Charlie reached out and grabbed her arm. Quickly, he knotted one necktie around her wrist. She shivered as he did the other one as well.
"Sit down," he ordered.
She staggered back and sat down on the stool of her dressing table.
"Give me your foot," he said, holding out his hand.
Silently, she did as ordered. She realized the pose completely exposed the dark slit of her pussy. The excitement she felt was more frightening than the bondage. In moments he had neckties dangling from both her ankles. Her cunt felt hot and sticky. She wondered if it showed.
Charlie looked around the room, searching for a suitable site for her punishment. Then he thought of the family room in the basement. Taking the ties around her wrists, he jerked her to her feet.
"Come on," he ordered.
Carla's insides melted as she was led through the house by her son. She felt so hopelessly exposed. The neckties on her ankles flapped at every step. Charlie had both of the ones from her wrists in one hand, so she was forced to walk with her arms out in front of her. She was puzzled when he led her through the living room to the basement stairs. She stumbled along behind, leaned forward when he pulled on the ties. He flicked on the light over the pool table. She began shivering uncontrollably. He stripped back the cover, exposed the rich, green surface, the oiled wooden rim. The cover hadn't been off the table since Chuck's death.
Charlie guided her to one end of the table, put a hand on the back of her neck and pushed. "Bend over."
"Please don't tie me," Carla pleaded. "I won't try to get away, honest I won't. Don't tie me, please don't tie me." She was reduced to begging.
"Bend over and grab the side pockets and maybe I won't," he said, relenting slightly.
She bent forward onto the table. The felt surface felt like sandpaper against her nipples. Her boobs flattened out on the hard slate. Her hands just reached the pockets along the sides. She hooked her fingers into them. The raised edge of the table cut into her stomach right below her waist. She rested her cheek on the rough felt.
Charlie studied her for a moment. Her ass was positioned perfectly for the beating he was going to give her. Her legs were together, her knees locked. The tendons on the backs of her thighs were drawn taut. Her asscheeks were tight, white globes, tender and vulnerable. They gleamed in the harsh light. Her back was smooth and graceful. There was a slight stubble under her arms. A small portion of her pussy hair was visible between her thighs.
The sight of his mother drawn tight, naked and ready for her spanking, made Charlie's groin tighten and his cock harden. But the time for that was later. Ignoring his arousal, he gripped the belt buckle and coiled the leather strap around his fist twice to shorten it.
"You ready?" he asked, knowing anticipation would make it hurt more.
"Yes," she answered, her voice a husky whisper.
Charlie drew back his arm and brought the belt down on his mother's naked ass with a ringing crack. Her flesh flared white, and then slowly turned red where the belt had hit her. It was like watching a photograph develop.
Carla jerked at the blistering impact, and tightened her grip on the pool table. She kept reminding herself he would tie her up, make her completely helpless, if she didn't cooperate. Her ass burned like fire from the first blow. How many would he give her?
Charlie drew back his arm and brought the belt whistling down a second time. It slashed across her butt, and a second pink stripe developed a half an inch above the first. The third blow struck her below the first two. The fourth closed the gap between the first two. The fifth finished the task. Every inch of her ass was bright red. The blows came thick and fast now. Charlie's fury blazed and he lashed his mother's ass with a viciousness that would have astonished him had he been thinking. Again and again and again the leather cracked against her butt. She began bleeding from the cruel lashing.
Charlie was brought back to his senses by a high, keening wail coming from somewhere. He realized that it was coming from him. His mother was sobbing hysterically. He was moaning like he was beating his own flesh. Tears of frustration and fury were streaking his cheeks as he finally expressed his rage at his father's death. He paused, the belt raised high for yet another stroke, and then unlocked his fingers from around the buckle and flung the belt away blindly. It clattered against the paneled wall. He fought to regain control of himself.
His cock was a throbbing pole in his pants. He wrenched at his belt, ripped his trousers down, freed his aching prick. Tears still staining his cheeks, he walked up behind his mother and set his dick between her thighs. He plunged his pulsing cock into her cunt. She was wet, and slippery, and ready. He drove his cock deep into her oozing hole with a single firm stroke. His hips jammed up against her abused ass.
Carla had been half expecting, half anticipating, and half hoping for his assault. The beating had seemed to go on forever and ever and ever. At first she had had to force herself to maintain her grip on the pool table. But soon the strength was drained out of her body by the incredible searing pain in her ass. It was unbelievable! It felt as if a blowtorch ware being applied to an already searing sunburn, as if the flesh were being stripped from her bones. She had cried. Her tears had stained the expensive green felt of the pool table.
The beating had stopped with shocking abruptness. It had taken her quite a while to realize another blow was not going to fall. Her backside felt raw and blistered and hurt like hell. Her guts were flaming with lust, just the way they had been after the insane spanking Chuck had given her on their honeymoon. Her cunt was hot, and wet, and hungry. She could have heaved herself up off the table, rolled over, protected herself from her son's sexual assault. But, instead, she held on and braced herself for the thrust into her aching hole.
Charlie drove his tool into her, felt the hot sheath of her cunt grip his seething prick. Leaning forward, his hands on either side of her on the hard pool table, he drew back and drove his cock into her twat again, not caring that his hips were jamming hard against her seared asscheeks. All that mattered was the feel of her hot cunt stroking his aching hard-on. All that mattered was the exquisite ecstasy of fucking his cock into his mother's shuddering body.
It mattered to Carla that Charlie was hitting her aching butt, but in a positive fashion. The pain when his body slammed against her inflamed buns added to the pleasure she felt at having her cunt filled by his cock. She loved having him slam into her, loved having him increase her pain, loved the way his cock hit the end of her cunt, stretching it. Rocking her hips, she ground her clit against the edge of the pool table. Her rejection of him the past week seemed insane in the face of the incredible ecstasy he could give her. She loved feeling his cock thrust deep in her body, welcomed his drives into her hungry cunt. She waited for him to flood her with jizz, to have him fill the womb that had nurtured him eighteen years before.
Charlie drove his prick into his mother's cunt. His body slapped against her flaming ass. His cock was on fire. He was nearing an orgasm. It felt like he had an ocean of cum to pour into her clinging snatch. His nuts knotted up against his groin and wrung the last dribbles of sperm into his prostate.
His muscles convulsed and he slammed into her quivering hole again. The first wad of cum ripped the length of his dick. His ass knotted, adding force to the blast of jizz spurting into her twat. He humped. An animal, he humped his cum into his mother's cunt in quick, sharp, burning shots. He flooded her with gooey fuck cream, deposited his sperm deep in her working, convulsing cunt.
As she felt her son pumping her cunt full of jizz, Carla came. Her orgasm was a crazy tangle of pain and pleasure. Her ass hurt, her twat quivered with pleasure. Her tits ached from being ground against the hard slate. Her heart was bunting with love for her son. What did it matter that it was incest? She was being shredded with pleasure. She doubted she would ever experience such a delicious, fantastic orgasm again.
Charlie leaned forward, about to lie down on his mother's back and hug her when he remembered her battered flesh. He started to push up and off her.
"No," Carla moaned, taking his hands, pulling him down on top of her. She loved the pain and his weight crushing her into the table. "No, stay, please stay."
"Oh, Mom," Charlie moaned. He was horrified at what he had done.
"It's all right, baby, it's all right. I deserved everything I got. Don't apologize, don't ever apologize."
Her words struck a familiar chord in Charlie, and he wondered where he had heard them before. He couldn't remember. He snuggled against her, his cheek on hers. Her soft hair tickled his ear. Her fingers interlocked with his, she held his hand against her soft flank. They lay there on the table, their feet still on the floor.
As Carla felt his prick retreating from her flooded snatch, she became more and more aware of the various aches and pains besetting her. Finally, she had to shift because of the pressure of the table rim in her belly. Charlie felt her move, and hauled himself up off her. She let him go. Then she let him help her up. She was aching and stiff and sore. The forgotten ties dangled from her wrists and ankles.
"Sorry about these," he apologized as he unknotted them. He knelt at her feet to get the ones around her ankles.
"Don't ever apologize," she insisted. "Keep them for the next time."
Charlie suddenly remembered where he had heard "don't apologize" before. Ellen Jameson had said it, just after he had beaten and raped her.
"What're you thinking about?" Carla asked curiously.
Charlie jumped guiltily. "Oh, just something I heard a while back from Ellen Jameson."
"Well, if you're going to tell me about it, I hope it can wait until you've put some oil on my bottom," Carla said as they went back upstairs.
"Lie down on your bed, Mom. I'll get the oil. Then I'll tell you about Ellen and me."
"You don't have to tell me, you know," Carla said when he came back.
"I want to," he answered, pouring a pool of oil in his palm. He warmed it between his hands before stroking it onto her flaming red butt.
"Ellen said exactly the same thing about apologizing after I whipped her," he reported conversationally as he smoothed the cream into his mother's buttcheeks.
"After you what?"
"After I beat her with a piece of rope. She was a real bitch that night I doubled with Pete and her and Ann."
"The second time you came in late," Carla noted.
"Right." Charlie shivered at the memory of the spanking he had gotten. "Well, Ellen was being a real bitch, and Pete went over to Ann and started making it with her."
"Screwing her?"
"Yeah. So, anyway, I got turned on watching them, and so did Ellen. Then she decided to tease me and ran away. I got real mad, chased her, and beat the shit out of her. Then I screwed her. She loved it. She likes being treated rough, says the pain turns her on."
"Has the same effect on me," Carla noted wryly. "Me, too," Charlie admitted. "In case you hadn't noticed."
"I had. Both giving and receiving it is damn arousing, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "Well, anyway, Ellen told me never to apologize, just the way you did."
"Smart girl," Carla noted. She loved the feel of Charlie's hands on her ass. The pain was lessening. The skin was ultrasensitive. She adored having his hands on her. Her pussy was feeling all soft and warm again.
Charlie was enjoying massaging the lush round masses of her buns. His cock swelling slowly, he stroked her lovingly. "Want to hear something about Ellen and her father?"
"Uh-huh," Carla agreed languidly.
"You have to promise not to breathe a word of it to anyone," Charlie cautioned.
"If I do, you can tie me up for a beating," Carla told him, then shivered.
"Mr. Jameson's set me up for a rape charge. His way of making sure nothing leaks out," Charlie explained.
"Holy mackerel, must be pretty hot stuff," Carla observed. "Are you sure you want to tell me?"
"Uh-huh. I trust you."
"That's nice," Carla purred, meaning the stroking of her ass as well as the fact that he trusted her again.
"Ellen and her father have a thing going," Charlie began vaguely.
"A 'thing' going?" Carla asked, suspecting what he meant, but not really believing it.
"Like us," he explained, stroking his oily fingers along her ass crack. "You know, Mom. Incest."
"Oh." Carla had trouble keeping her response casual-sounding, both because of the delicate exploration of his fingers and her own surprise at the news.
"Yeah, she's a father-fucker. And I'm a mother-fucker," Charlie said, probing deeper into Carla's crevice. His cock was stiff again.
"I wish you wouldn't use words like that," Carla complained. "It makes it sound so awful. And it isn't awful, is it?"
"Hell, no," Charlie agreed. "It's great." He probed a finger deep into her crack, touched her bung.
"So's that," Carla sighed.
"Like that?"
"You know it," she groaned. "So does Ellen."
"Well, first she sucked her father's cock."
"Umm-hummm," Carla purred.
"While she was doing that, right there in their living room, I fucked her from behind, dog fashion." He began pumping his finger in and out of Carla's asshole. "All three of us came that way. You should have seen her taking cum in her mouth and cunt at the same time."
Carla's guts convulsed at the thought, and because of the finger up her butt. "Ch-Charlie?" She was having trouble talking.
"What?"
"There's a cigar thing over there on the bureau," she explained. "If you grease it up, you can – stuff it up my – in my bottom, if you'd like."
"Yeah."
"I'd – ah – like your cock, but I'm too sore right now," she explained.
"That's okay, Mom," he assured her, getting the aluminum tube. He oiled it carefully. Carla bent her knees, and lifted her butt into the air.
His face shining with sweat, Charlie aimed the tube into his mother's ass and slowly pressed it into her bung. He watched as her asshole gradually stretched, then accepted the tube. He slid it far up into her butt. Just watching it disappear into her ass got him excited.
"What else did you do with Ellen?" Carla moaned.
Charlie fucked the tube in and out of her shitter slowly. "Well, after that, we all went into the bedroom."
"Uh-huh," Carla grunted. "Oooooh, jeez, that's good."
"Yeah. In the bedroom, Ellen sucked my dick while her father fucked her. It was really something, watching her eat my prick."
"I can imagine," Carla moaned as the aluminum tube buggered her.
"But I didn't come in her mouth, though Mr. Jameson did in her cunt," Charlie explained. "I saved it."
"For what?" Carla asked, her insides boiling.
"When he pulled out, I moved down, lubricated my prick in her pussy, and then jammed it into her asshole."
"God!" Carla groaned as a mini-orgasm rushed through her.
"While I did that, she sucked her father's cock hard again. Then, when I came – did it in her butt – he moved down and fucked her in the ass while I watched."
"Oh, Charlie," Carla moaned.
"Yeah, Mom?"
"I need more, Charlie, I need more." Carla was aroused to the point of desperation.
"What do you need, Mom?"
"I need your cock, Charlie, that wonderful, beautiful hard cock of yours," she moaned.
"What about this?" Charlie asked, sliding the cigar tube in and out of her asshole.
"That, too," she moaned. "That, too, Charlie."
"What'd you have in mind?" Charlie asked, honestly puzzled.
"I'll have to be on top," Carla explained. "If I face toward your feet, I think we can do it. You work the tube in my butt." He started to pull it out of her asshole and she jerked. "No, leave it in all the way for now." She got to her hands and knees. "Lie on your back."
Charlie did as he was asked. He was fascinated by the sight of the cigar tube sticking out of his mother's butt.
She worked her way around on the bed very carefully, acutely conscious of the shaft filling her butt like a rock-hard lump. Awkwardly, she lifted one leg over Charlie and straddled him. Facing his feet, she reached down under herself and found his stiff prick. She tilted his rod down from his belly until it was aimed up into her crotch. She lowered herself on it, nestled its head in her pussy, and slowly drove it up into her belly. It was a tighter fit than she expected, which puzzled her. Then she realized the cigar tube must be cutting down on the available space.
"Tight," Charlie said curtly.
"Wonderful," Carla moaned. "Oh, Charlie, we're so wicked!"
"Ain't it great?"
Carla had to lean far forward over Charlie's legs. She lifted and his prick slid out of her cunt, almost slipped free of her tight hole. She lowered herself, and drove his cock back up into her twat. It hit the back of her cunt, pinched the thin layer of flesh between her snatch and asshole.
"The tube, Charlie, do the tube."
Charlie reached for the end of the cigar tube, which was still protruding from her shitter, and drew it out, then slid it back in. Through the tissue barrier separating her holes, he felt it with his prick, felt the tube stroke his cock.
"JESUS!" he exploded.
"Oooh, Charlie, it's so good, so good," Carla moaned. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."
Charlie fucked her. He screwed the cylinder in and out of her asshole as she rose and fell on his throbbing rod. Her cunt walls stroked his rigid pole, built his lust moment by moment. There was direct friction from her twat, and incredible indirect pressure from the cigar tube. Charlie's cum began to flow, began to gather, to ready itself for the final spouting eruption.
For Carla the pleasure was exquisite. She had two wonderful, brutal hard shafts crammed into her, and they were both sliding in and out. Her cunt was ablaze. Her ass was on fire. And the thin wall between them was being stroked and tugged. Carla thought she was going to rip apart right up the middle, and wondered what it would feel like.
Then she began to come. It was a colossal orgasm. It raged through her like a hurricane. She kept bouncing up and down, and the cigar tube kept moving in and out. She kept coming and coming and coming. It was incredible.
Charlie pistoned the tube in her asshole faster and faster. She got the message, and humped on his cock as fast as she could.
He was about to come. He was right on the verge of coming. He began to come. He drove the cigar tube deep into her bowels and almost lost his grip on it. He fountained his jizz into her pulsing cunt. Carla dropped down hard on his jetting prick so the head of it nuzzled the end of her snatch. The shaft of his prick was pinched by the cylinder up her ass. Charlie poured fuck juice into his mother's cunt for a second time that day.
Exhausted, Carla lay forward on her son's bare legs. She felt his prick move inside her flooded snatch. Her ass went into waves and drove the cigar tube out. It was a delicious crapping feeling. Charlie's cock shriveled in her cunt until just the tip was nestled in her pussy. Finally, forgetting the state of her ass, she rolled off him.
"YEOW!" she yelped, arching up off the bed. Her butt felt as it had been dipped in acid. She rolled onto her side quickly.
"You okay, Mom?" Charlie asked, picking up the cigar tube.
"When you give a spanking, you really give a spanking," Carla observed. "I'll have to eat standing up for a week, and sleep on my tummy!"
"I'm…"
"Ah! Don't apologize!"
"I'm sure I won't have to give you a spanking like that again," he finished, changing what he had been about to say.
"Not like that," she agreed fervently. "Maybe a little gentler, right?"
"And I'm sure I'll need one once in a while, too. Uh, Mom?"
"What?"
"What about Eric Jameson? Will you at least give the guy a chance?"
"You think I should?"
"Yeah. He's nice, Mom."
"Think he'd make a good father?" she asked cautiously.
"I think so, Mom," Charlie replied seriously.
"And Ellen would make a good sister, right?" Carla said smiling.
"Some sister!"
"Some son," Carla retorted.
"Some daughter!" Charlie shot back. "Some family," Carla finished.
"Well, Mom?"
Carla thought for a minute. "Why don't we invite them both over for dinner?"
"Just dinner?"
"Mind your manners! There are other things in life besides sex."
"Well, you never can tell what we might serve for dessert!" Charlie joked.
"No, you never can tell," Carla agreed. "But just remember, it might be nothing more than cherry pie."
"No cherries in the group," Charlie punned.
"Get out of here and go take a shower," she ordered, smiling. "But don't get dressed. I can't because of my bottom, so you can't either."
"Seems fair." Humming happily, he left her room.
Carla got to her feet and studied the flaming expanse of her ass in the mirror. Shaking her head, she applied some more ointment, then washed the cigar tube carefully. She looked at it thoughtfully, then set it aside. Maybe an artificial cock won't be needed, if things develop with Eric, she thought to herself. What would two cocks feel like…