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Unlimited Ch. 09

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Ass

As soon as she got home each day, Mom would strip down to her panties.

That was just the beginning.

Lucy would often be waiting at the door for our mother. She’d throw her against the wall and passionately make out with her.

Mom would reciprocate, of course – if she didn’t, she’d risk talking about sex, and she could never do that. No, far better to make out with her teenage daughter than risk revealing what an absolute pervert she was.

I’d sometimes stand there and watch as my busty family members kissed, their hands roaming around each other’s bodies. Lucy would reach down to find Mom soaking wet; she’d push her panties to the side, and finger fuck her right there in the hallway.

There are few hotter sights than your mother’s knees buckling as she cums around your sister’s hand.

Dazed, Mom would often be dragged into the living-room. Lucy would push her down onto the couch, grab her long hair, and force her mouth to my cock. As my mother fellated me, that stunned look on her face, Lucy would spread Mom’s legs and go down on her.

I could see Mom’s eyes, silently pleading. Was she pleading for us to stop, or was she pleading for more?

I would never know, because she’d never talk about it.

Mom came almost as easily as Lucy – she’d get off several times by her own daughter’s tongue, and then again as I unloaded down her throat. It was so hot, knowing that these images, these sensations, these experiences would be running through Mom’s head on loop all night and all day…until the events of the next evening replaced them.

She was starting to become more lust than woman.

Sometimes Mom would sit back and watch as it was Lucy’s turn to get me off. Lucy would pinch her nipples and beg me to treat her like the filthy slut we both knew she was.

Mom would never play with herself, though I knew she wanted to. Her fingers would twitch, as though all she wanted was to reach down and stroke her clit, get herself off again.

If I wasn’t in the mood, Lucy would instead bring out some toys, and spend the evening using them on our mother. I lost track of the number of times I’d watched Lucy fuck Mom with a huge strap-on, or handcuff her to the furniture as she used nipple clamps and a particularly strong vibrator.

Mom would twitch in orgasm, cumming and cumming again, never able to articulate her desires. Lucy and I would use our mother as a pliable sex-toy until it was time for bed, when we’d finally give her a break, and let her go into her room to get herself off once or twice before bed.

On mornings when I woke up early enough, I’d make my way into Mom’s room and stick my erection into her sleeping mouth. She’d wake up, wide-eyed, and began fellating me.

Her morning blowjobs were always the most enthusiastic. I was never able to work out why.

Sometimes I’d come in to find my sister had beaten me to it – I’d stand in the doorway and watch as Mom grasped my sister’s perfect ass, her tongue deep inside Lucy’s wet cunt, the two of them writhing in pleasure, oblivious to my presence.

Mom was ours; a completely obedient, submissive toy, existing only for her children’s pleasure. Every moment she was at home, she was almost-naked, sweaty, and available for our use.

She was nothing more than a piece of property.

And since Lucy was mine as well, that meant they both were.

My life was insanely close to perfect…and I knew exactly how to get it the rest of the way.

Session C27:

“When did you last cum?”

“Seven weeks ago.”

I didn’t even have to lead into it with a hypothetical this time. Maybe Richard had inferred the survey, the lead-up questions…or maybe he was just so worked up, he wanted to share how long it had been.

Session 46:

“Have you enjoyed the last week?”

“Yes.”

Even through my sister’s monotone, the strength of her response was obvious.

“What would make it even better?”

“If you fucked our mother.”

“What else?”

“If you fucked me.”

I smiled. Perfect.

“Aside from letting me fuck you, is there anything you would refuse me?”

“No.”

“If I told you to do something, even if it was incredibly difficult, would you do it?”

“Yes.”

“If you weren’t able to, would you lie to me?”

“No. I would never lie to you.”

“Good girl,” I said, and woke her up.

Session 47:

“Have you enjoyed the last week?”

“Yes.”

“What would make it even better?”

“If I could cum.”

After waking my sister up, I’d given her some clear instructions. I’d told her that I was jealous that our mother got to fuck her, but I didn’t. I told her that I wanted nothing more than to cum inside her, but that I wasn’t going to order her to fuck me.

That would be wrong.

She looked devastated, but…well, after seeing our mother sobbingly think that the ‘burglar’ incident was her fault, this was nothing. I stayed strong, and after a few minutes, my sister just nodded.

And then Onwin Güncel Giriş I’d told her – until I fucked either her or our mother, I wasn’t going to cum.

She looked horrified.

That’s when I dropped the bombshell: until I came, she couldn’t either.

My sister, as I’ve mentioned, cums really easily. Like, it’s great. It’s truly delightful – you stick a cock anywhere near her, and she’s halfway there. You rub her clit (or, depending on how worked up she is, just her nipples) and she goes off like a firecracker.

She always was verging on ‘goddess of sex’; and this fun feature absolutely tipped her over the edge.

To her credit, she’d obeyed.

In the six and a half days since I’d ordered her not to cum, she – to the best of my knowledge – had abstained.

It’s not like we hadn’t been doing anything sexual, either. I’d spent half the week with my cock down her throat, or my fingers in her pussy, or lightly jacking off while watching her work out her frustration on Mom’s enormous tits. The three of us had been fooling around just as we had the week before, but with one key difference:

Lucy had neither cum nor made me cum.

The plan, of course, was to get her so worked up that she would beg me to fuck her, or to fuck Mom. I wanted her to be climbing the walls with frustration – I’d given her a taste of heaven, and then taken it away from her.

And again, to her credit…so far, she’d resisted.

Admiring someone’s moral strength might seem a little strange, considering it was the only thing standing between my cock and my sister’s wet pussy, but…well, it was hard not to be impressed.

I firmly believe that my sister was born to be a slut. Her body, her hair-trigger orgasm, her insatiable submission…it had been a lot of work (and I mean a lot of work) to get her here, but once she’d entered the realm of full-time sister-slut, she’d taken to it like a fish to water.

She’d never once complained of having a sore jaw, or needing a break, or ‘having a headache’. Once she’d started being my on-demand sexual toy, she’d been the best slut a brother could ask for.

Except, of course…that she wouldn’t let me fuck her.

“Hypothetical,” I said. “I ask you if you have any requests.”

Nod.

“What do you ask for?”

“I ask if I can cum.”

“How do you ask?”

“Please,” my sister begged. “Please please please please please please please.”

“‘I tell you ‘no’. What do you say?”

“Please…”

“I say no, not until I do. What do you say?”

“Oh god, please. I’ll do anything!”

I smiled.

“Would you let me fuck you?”

There was a hopeful pause, followed by a confident “No.”

God damn it, Lucy.

I knew how hard it had been for her. She’d asked me to tie her to the bedpost as she slept, just so that she wouldn’t accidentally touch herself overnight and disobey me.

I’d obliged, of course. I’d do most anything for my sister.

That, and it made it far easier to sneak into my mother’s room and fuck her.

Session A183:

“You’re just a sex toy for your children.”

Nod.

“Every day and every night, they use you however they please.”

Nod.

“It’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced.”

Nod.

“You love your life.”

Nod.

“You love being a full-time fucktoy.”

Nod.

“You’d do anything your children wanted you to.”

Nod.

“If your son wanted to fuck you, you’d let him.”

Nod.

My mouth was open, ready for the next statement, but Mom’s response gave me pause.

Wait. Was…was it that easy?

“If your son wanted to spread your legs, right now, and slide his cock into you, you’d let him.”

Nod.

“You’d enjoy the experience.”

Nod.

“You’d get off as he did.”

Nod.

“Hypothetical: your son comes into your room while you’re sleeping.”

Nod.

“Instead of sticking his cock into your mouth, he sticks it into your pussy.”

Nod.

“You love it.”

Nod.

My mouth fell open and I sat back, my head spinning.

I…

I’d grown so accustomed to my sister’s resistance, I hadn’t even considered where my mother was at.

As far as she was concerned, Lucy and I had fucked. She found it hot – the hottest thing she’d ever heard of.

We’d been using her for our pleasure for a little over a week now, and she hadn’t objected to anything – she had no limits.

No limits.

Unlike Lucy, she didn’t have this weird dichotomy of ‘incest’ vs ‘not incest’. As far as she was concerned, it was all incest…

And that was why she loved it.

For the first time since I’d started hypnotizing my family, my mother was actually giving me less resistance than my sister.

To be safe, I spent twenty minutes running through different scenarios. I checked that it wouldn’t cause her to freak out, or break like Marcie had, or feel the need to suddenly tell Lucy.

Nope. As far as my mother Onwin Giriş was concerned, fucking her was just a part of the fucked-up world she was already living in.

It took me about a minute to realize that I was still staring at my mother, instead of doing what I’d dreamed of doing for years.

“Spread your legs,” I breathlessly commanded.

She obeyed.

“Make sure you’re nice and wet for me,” I whispered.

She obeyed.

“Grab…”

I swallowed. My throat was suddenly incredibly dry.

“Grab…grab my cock.”

My mother obeyed.

“Move it between your legs.”

She obeyed.

I leaned forward. My mouth was inches from my mother’s.

I kissed her.

She kissed me back.

“Move your panties aside,” I rasped.

She obeyed.

“Move…”

I stared into my mother’s blank eyes.

Was I really going to do this?

“Move me inside of you,” I ordered softly.

She obeyed.

Session 47:

It wasn’t easy, timing trysts with my mother to avoid getting caught. It got a whole lot easier when Lucy asked me to start tying her to the bed at night – suddenly, I had eight or more hours in which I could fuck my mother, as loudly and enthusiastically as I wanted.

It.

Was.

Amazing.

I’d thought fucking Marcie was nice. Well, no, fucking Marcie was nice.

Fucking Mom?

It was heavenly.

No matter what Lucy and I had done to our mother, she’d remained mostly silent. When my cock was pounding in and out of her, it was a whole other world. The moans, pants, and sometimes squeaks that came out of my sexy mother…jesus helling fuck. The sounds alone would have been enough to get me off.

Combined with the warmth, the rhythmic tightening, the feeling of her dark thatch of hair…

I’d spent years jerking off to the idea of it, and it still managed to exceed my every expectation.

She seemed to cum with almost every thrust, and when I unloaded inside of her…

I had to forbid Lucy from going down on my Mom of a morning, to ensure she didn’t recognize the taste. After cumming inside my mother, I’d fall asleep on her ample bosom, and often wake up in the middle of the night to discover I was inside her again. Was it Mom, slipping me inside her as we slept, or was my subconscious aware of the golden opportunity in front of me, and ensuring that I took advantage?

Maybe Mom knew, but she certainly wasn’t going to talk about it.

Unloading into my mother several times a night made not cumming while Lucy expertly fellated me much, much easier. And so while Lucy was climbing the wall with frustration, I…

I can honestly say, I was the most sexually satisfied I’d ever been in my life.

Still, I had to admit, I’d missed the feeling of cumming down my sister’s throat.

“Blow me,” I ordered with a grin. My smile broadened at the speed with which my entranced sister dropped to her knees and got me off.

As I came inside her mouth, I could see her twitching, wanting nothing more than to reach her own orgasm.

“Sit up,” I ordered. She leaned in to kiss me (unusual, while she was tranced – I can only assume it was due how turned on she was) but I pushed her away.

Some guys think it’s hot, making out with a girl who’s just swallowed their cum, but I’m not really into it.

Maybe if she was sharing it with Marcie…or Mom. That was something I could get behind.

“Not now, Luce.” I said, running my hands down her naked body. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

She just moaned in response as I slipped two fingers into her slick pussy. It was always wet, these days, and I was knuckle-deep almost instantly.

“Now,” I said, enjoying her short yelp as I spanked her. “You want this to continue, don’t you?”

Lucy nodded. Her whole body twitched slightly, and as I moved my fingers in and out, she shuddered with delight.

“You want me to fuck you, won’t you Lucy?”

She nodded, twitched, and shuddered.

“This can only continue if I fuck you, can’t it?”

She nodded. I could feel her sopping wet cunt spasming around my fingers.

“You’ll want me to fuck you, don’t you Lucy?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“You want to feel my cock inside you, don’t you?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“Do you play with yourself at night imagining me fucking you?”

Nod. Shudder.

“Are you looking forward to me cumming inside you?”

Nod. Twitch. Shudder.

“What would you say if I asked you to fuck me?”

Twitch. Twitch. Shudder.

No nod…but no resistance, either.

I pushed my luck, sliding my fingers in and out of my sister as I did.

“Lucy? What would you say if I asked you to fuck me?”

To my horror, a series of short pants and moans were the only response. My sister came, her tits bouncing and her cunt clenching repeatedly around my fingers.

God damn it, Lucy.

Session A184:

“You love fucking your son.”

Nod. Onwin

“It’s the single most satisfying thing you’ve ever done.”

Nod.

“It’s made you feel complete.”

Nod.

“It’s made you feel more like a woman than you ever have before.”

Nod.

“You love it.”

Nod.

“You love it more than anything.”

Nod.

“It’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”

Nod.

I don’t know that Mom would normally have agreed to that, but with my cock pounding in and out of her, she was likely struggling to think of anything that topped the feeling.

“You feel complete.”

Nod.

“Fucking your son completes you.”

Nod.

“If fucking your son completes you, it must be why you exist.”

This one did give her slight pause, but as soon as I slowed down, she nodded.

Basic Pavlovian conditioning. Fuck her harder when she says something I like, slow down when she hesitates.

“You exist to fuck your son.”

Nod.

“You exist for your son to fuck you.”

Nod.

“Your purpose in life is to be fucked by your son.”

Nod.

“Say it.”

To my surprise, my mother obeyed.

“My…purpose…in…life…is…to…be…fucked…by…my…son.”

I groaned with pleasure.

I had achieved everything I wanted to with my mother. This? This was just for fun.

“You will always cum when your son does.”

Nod.

My eyes rolled back in my head as I unloaded inside my mother. Nothing had ever felt this good.

I couldn’t wait to see how my sister compared.

Session 48:

“Have you enjoyed the last two weeks?”

“Yes.”

This time, there was a slight hesitance to my sister’s voice.

Good.

“What would make it even better?”

“If I could cum.”

The attitude in my sister’s voice broke through the monotone. I hadn’t heard her this whiney since we were kids, and Mom had refused to buy her the Lego set she’d so desperately wanted.

“You want to cum?”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

After our last session, I’d woken my sister up and hoped that she wouldn’t remember cumming.

Consciously, I don’t think she did, but…well, her entire vibe was completely different. Before I’d put her under, she’d been highly-strung. On edge.

After waking her up, she was much calmer, much more relaxed.

And so, with a sigh, I’d repeated the order – she couldn’t cum until I did – and emphasized that I was not to be disobeyed.

This time, I’d waited two weeks. After all, with my mother’s hungry pussy at my beck and call, I was in no rush.

By the end of the second week, my sister was worked up. She wanted to be submissive and obedient, I could tell…but instead, she was tense. Irate.

Snappy.

She wanted to cum. She wanted to cum more than anything…I hoped.

I’d feigned frustration, trying to ensure that it wasn’t too obvious what Mom and I were up to. My sister, as far as I could tell, had believed me.

Still, no harm in checking.

“Do you think I’ve cum in the last three weeks?”

“No.”

“Why do you think I’m so much less worked up than you are?”

“Because you’re better than I am.”

“Oh?”

My sister didn’t respond. Even in her relaxed trance state, I could still feel her frustration.

“How so?”

“You are more in control than I am.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re…”

She hesitated. I sighed.

“Spit it out.”

“You’re a sexual god.”

Couldn’t help but smile at that one.

“What would you do in order to cum?”

“Anything,” my sister said, emphasizing all three syllables.

“Will you obey my every command?”

“Yes.”

It was time.

I had to be careful, but it was time.

“Hypothetical. I hypnotize you.”

Nod.

“Neither of us have cum in three weeks.”

Nod.

“You tell me you’ll do anything if I let you cum.”

Nod.

“I tell you to let me fuck you.”

Shake.

Fuck.

“I tell you to tell me to fuck Mom.”

Shake.

“You know that I won’t let either of us cum until I fuck you or Mom.”

Nod.

“You want me to fuck you or Mom.”

Nod.

So…why?

Why?

God fucking damn it, Lucy, WHY??

I took a deep breath. Now we were both frustrated.

“Why,” I said slowly, trying to remain calm, “won’t you tell me to fuck Mom.”

“Because it would be selfish.”

I took another deep breath.

“What does that mean?”

“If you fucked Mom, that would be incest. That would be wrong.”

“But you want me to.”

“Yes.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

“I can’t make you and Mom do something wrong for my own benefit. That would be selfish.”

“But…”

Yet another deep, calming breath.

“But you know I want to as well.”

“Yes. But I can’t make you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be wrong.”

I threw my hands up in the air. I was on the verge of waking Lucy up, telling her I was fucking Mom, and that she could either get onboard or she could fuck off.

Our mother was, after all, serving my every sexual need. Lucy, despite my best efforts, was not. What did I need her for? I had Mom. I could…

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Messrs. X, Y and Z

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Babes

Mr. Z came home from work early. The office had been slow and it was Friday. The whole weekend was before him, so he had ducked out early to get a good jump on the work free days ahead. He parked his car in his space inside the six-stall garage that was attached to the huge, perfectly landscaped house. He lived in this house with two friends, Mr. X and Mr. Y, and with Miss El. Well, actually just El. She had no title. She was all the Messrs. girl, and they did with her as they pleased.

Mr. Z moved through the house. He was home alone, for now. He knew El was out for lunch with her girlfriends, showing off her newest car. It was a high-end model that Mr. Y had bought her. She drove a new car every three years, bought in a rotating cycle by all the men. El didn’t work outside of the house. She was responsible for the household and all three of the men. She did work hard, and she was generously compensated. Besides a new car every few years, she usually had at least three vacations a year, sometimes more. She was available to travel with each man, plus she was allowed to take a vacation with her girlfriends.

The Messrs. liked their lifestyle. They all had a girl they loved and all the sex the craved, from private to group. And by pooling their money, they lived grandly, if not unorthodox. Everyone who knew them, knew of their living arrangement, and passed no real judgement. Most were curious, wondering if they could live the same way. The men especially liked the idea of having a girl at their complete and utter disposal, and many wanted to experience group sex, but the boys didn’t allow that. If El was interested, like she had been when she first met Mr. Z, then X and Y permitted it, otherwise the answer was no. And El had never been with another girl. The boys wouldn’t allow that either. Z thought their decision was based a little bit on fear. What if the girl was better? He knew they wondered and worried about that. Although El showed no interest in other girls, they had been approached with offers, and their answer had always been no. Overall Mr. Z doubted any of their friends could live they way these four did.

They had a precise, structured way of living. The bills were split in an even way, and the girl was split much the same way with no hint of jealousy or possessiveness. Although, when it came to El, there was a bit more flexibility. But even that was carefully planned out on a monthly calendar which was planned out three months in advance. No, he thought to himself as he checked the X, Y, and Z calendar, we four are special, different. We share, we cooperate, and we like each other’s company, in and out of the bedroom. He had joined this cozy little family almost four years ago. The other three had been cohabiting since before their college days. He was a good, final fit to their family, and he was glad to join them

He noticed the mail neatly stacked on the kitchen counter. He opened the cabinet to consult the calendar hanging on the door inside. He smiled when he noticed it was his weekend, starting tonight, that El would share his bed. His cock twitched excitedly.

He picked up the mail. The bill paying was his duty. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, quickly read the dinner menu El had left hanging from a magnet there, and took a seat on a stool at the breakfast nook. He cracked open his beverage and did a quick scan of the mail before he opened each item and sorted through the pile. His joy of having El to himself this weekend and his to play with was soon replaced with shock and displeasure. He carefully set aside the credit card bill, and as he finished with the rest of the mail, he began formulating a new weekend for El.

Mr. Z was still sitting at the breakfast counter, drinking his second beer, when he heard El come home. He watched from the kitchen window as she pulled into the garage. His cock was rock hard and throbbing hotly. He was going to punish his little girl, and he would have to bring her transgression to the attention to Mr. X and Mr. Y. This was something he could not handle alone. It was his duty and his responsibility to share what had happened with the other boys. He glanced back at the bill, and his blood boiled! She had over spent on her credit card, and that was completely unacceptable.

El breezed into the kitchen, keys and purse in hand. She looked adorable in her new white baby doll dress with a sweet purple flower applique. Her white three-inch heels, with a lavender bow at the toe, were a perfect match. Mr. Z noted it all. He knew she had charged it. Even her purse was new and matched perfectly.

“Oh, hi,” El said happily when she saw Mr. Z at the breakfast bar. “You’re home early.”

She smiled at him. She was so beautiful. Blonde, blue eyed, petite, a freak in the rack; trained to kinky, nasty perfection.

El came over to him and gave him a kiss. When he was done kissing her, he held her at arms length, and admired her cute, new outfit.

“I hope you’re wearing panties, my little one. That dress is awfully short,” he commented.

El Sahabet laughed easily, “Of course I am. My goodness, you sound like Mr. X. Honestly!”

Mr. Z looked at her and pulled her close, between his knees. His hand slid down her back and he cupped her small buttocks in his large, strong hands.

“You’re a good girl, wearing these panties.”

El snuggled closer to Mr. Z. She noticed his huge boner and her pussy flickered softly. There was plenty of time for fucking, if he should decide he wanted her.

“Why don’t you go to your bedroom,” Z whispered into her neck, his hands still holding her sweet bottom. He felt her push against him, getting horny anticipating his desire. His next words to her changed everything, “When you get there I want you to bend over the edge of your bed on your knees with your dress up, your panties down around your ankles, leave your shoes on, so your bottom is bare. I’m going to spank you. You’ve been a bad, bad girl, and you need reminding.”

El struggled against his chest, but he held her captive.

“Shh, shhh…” he whispered in her neck. “Settle down, little one. I’ll explain your transgression before I begin. You’ll know the reason for your spanking. I promise. Now, off you go. Any hesitance or flippant attitude wouldn’t be very wise right now. So be a good girl, and get yourself ready as I instructed.”

He patted El’s butt as she set off to her bedroom.

Z made El wait a full half-hour before he came to her room, the offending bill in his hand. He placed it on the bed in front of her.

“Look at that,” he ordered.

El lifted her head and looked at the paper. It took a moment before she realized what she was looking at.

“Oh, shit,” she gasped.

She had thought Mr. Z was game playing and trying to arouse her when he ordered her to her own bedroom, to pull down her panties, to kneel by her bed, to bend over it, and then to wait patiently until he came to spank her. Her pussy had twitched in orgasm as she waited for her Master Z to come and punish her and fuck her. But now she realized he really did mean to punish her.

Z was furious! The bill, the outrageous amount of the bill, and now the foul mouth!

“What did you say?”

El knew she was in deep trouble. She hadn’t realized what she had spent the last month! She had an allowance of five hundred dollars a month for clothing. That amount rose to one thousand dollars any month that she was vacationing with anyone of her Messrs. She had no vacation coming and the bill was two thousand dollars! She was no longer horny. She was now very worried.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said in the most humble, repentant voice she could muster. Her eyes were locked on the column that told her her balance, told her of her overspending.

“Repeat what you just said,” Mr. Z demanded.

“I said,” El gripped the bed cover in both hands. Her heart was racing, her pussy quiet. “Oh, God. Please, sir!” She knew cussing, especially in front of Master Z was forbidden as unbecoming a young lady.

Z shifted angrily behind her. “Repeat it!”

“Shit, sir. I said a naughty word. I’m so, so very sorry. Please forgive my filthy mouth. I know I am a young lady and should never speak such words, especially in front of my master.”

“So God damn right you are,” Z told her. “Now, can you explain to me why I have put you in your current position? Can you tell me why I have you kneeling over your bed with your bottom bared?”

“My credit card bill.” El gripped the bed cover tighter. This would all be so much easier if her pussy was throbbing hotly, helping her to remain calm.

“And what is wrong with said credit card bill?”

“I’m over my monthly limit, sir.”

“What exactly are the rules, limits, parameters, and boundaries that you are restricted to?”

El hated Mr. Z. She hated the way he taught her, nothing kind or understanding or loving. He was always mean and superior and pushy. Oh! If only she could move!

“Well!?” Z demanded.

“I have a limit, a generous, ample limit,” she added smartly, “of five hundred dollars a month. My limit goes up an extra five hundred when I’m going on vacation with one or more of my masters, sir.”

“Read to me your current balance.”

“Two thousand dollars, sir.”

“Meaning?” Z asked cruelly.

‘I hate you,’ El thought. ‘Just spank me and be done with it.’ She had no idea what Mr. Z had in store for her. No idea how long and how severely he meant to punish her.

“Meaning I am well over my monthly allowance.”

“How much over?”

‘Jesus Christ!’ El screamed in her own head. She hated this type of interrogation. Hated to voice her transgressions out loud while Mr. Z listened carefully, measuring her sentences, her words, the inflection of her voice. She had to be oh, so very careful. But, of course, her mouth and her fear would get the better of her, adding to her already grave situation.

“Fifteen hundred dollars, sir,” she confessed.

She fidgeted across her Sahabet Giriş bed. She had made a huge, terrible mistake!

“Sit still, my dear,” Z purred. “You may not move.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And relax your hands,” Z further instructed. He unbuckled his black leather belt and pulled it through the belt loops of his work slacks. “I want you nice and loose before I whip you.”

El was panicked! She had rarely been whipped with a belt before. She had once or twice received the belt, but that was a long time ago when she and Mr. X and Mr. Y had starting living together, and everyone, mostly the boys, were working out all the rules for her and the household. Mr. X had administered each whipping with Mr. Y watching. The experience had been horrible! She had to figure a way out of her current trouble. She just had to!

El boldly turned her head to look up at Mr. Z and told him, “What’s the big deal? It’s my name on the card.”

Mr. Z laughed. That frightened El. “Whose name is on the bank account that pays the credit card that has your name on it? And who gave you the right to look at me without permission? Get your head forward, eyes down, and answer me!”

“Master Z’s name is on the bank account that pays my credit card bill. I had no permission to look at you, my lord. I took great liberty with my spending and with being sassy and to gaze upon you without permission.” But El couldn’t keep quiet, so great was her worry over receiving the belt that with her next words she sealed her fate, “But any extreme punishment has to be okayed by all my misters.”

Z held his belt, doubled in half, loosely in his left hand. He stepped forward, El’s words echoing in his head, and yanked her head back by her hair. He put his face one-inch from hers, and told her in a calm, measured voice, “Who says giving you the belt across your naked, well over her credit card limit, bad girl butt is extreme?”

El was worried. She couldn’t handle the belt, and Master Z always punished her harshly, so much harsher than her other two masters. Her fear made her brash, and mouthy. It made her a fool.

“You need Mr. X’s permission to use the belt on me,” she hissed back at Mr. Z.

His expression didn’t change as much as the level of his ire did. His steel gray eyes snapped into absolute anger, his hand gripped El’s hair tighter, and his resolve hardened. He knew she was right about Mr. X. Although all the men had absolute authority over their girl El, X had rule over everyone. He was the supreme leader of the household, and sometimes he had to make the final decision about some issue. His one voice was an important tool when opinions were spilt, and was a stopper when situations become out of control. Z knew he should, by rights, inform X about what he planned, but he knew his decision was appropriate. He decided that he would proceed with El’s correction, at the level he felt necessary, and if Mr. X disapproved, they could discuss it later after El was put to bed.

El’s fear intensified when she saw the change in her lord’s face. She knew it was coming, like it or not, permission or not, she was going to get the belt. Tears sprang to her blue eyes, and her pussy still remained silent, abandoning her.

“Wrong, you mouthy shitty child.” Z finally said, his cock jumping to red-hot life. “I have equal power here in our house, the men’s house. You have none. None!” He jerked her head back further by her hair. “You are mine to do as I see fit.”

El, fool that she was, a fool forgotten by her own pussy, and being controlled by her sassy defiant mouth, spoke slowly and clearly and very, very stupidly when she hissed at her captor, “You…don’t…have…permission.”

“That’s it!” Mr. Z released her hair, stood, and barked at El as he left the bedroom, “Get back into your correct position and stay put.”

El did as she was told. Again Mr. Z left her alone for thirty minutes. Her pussy was still absent, nothing stirred in her crotch, and she was beginning to think she had managed to get out of her whipping when Mr. Z returned. She just knew he would release her from her current predicament and she would be spared, for now, from his belt. She was truly a little girl, a fool from which she could not hide, because she never guessed what came next.

“Open up.” Master Z held a wet, soapy full bar of fresh soap in front of El’s mouth. He did not touch her in anyway; she would be required to take the soap into her mouth willingly.

El looked at the bubbly, wet bar, and a whimper escaped her lips.

“Come on,” Z coaxed. “Open up and take your soap. There’s a big girl,” he told her as El opened her mouth and Z slipped the bar halfway into her mouth. “Now close. Big girl! Now, you hold that bar in your sassy, nasty mouth until you have learned your lesson. Cozy back over the bed, arms stretched high, no gripping the sheets, you will remain relaxed. Head forward. It’s time for your whipping.”

El did as she was told. The soap was horrid! Never had she had her mouth washed out! The fresh Sahabet Güncel Giriş bar of soap had been worked into a plentiful lather and it filled her mouth. It was bitter and it burned her sassy tongue. But its real punishment came with the first lash of Mr. Z’s belt across her naked bottom. The pain was so great that she bit down, instinctively clenching her jaw, and her teeth suck down into the detergent, helping it to release its bitter punishment.

Mr. Z had never used a belt to discipline El. As a child, he knew the neighbor boy received the belt by his father. He had heard those events sometimes, as he walked home, never feeling sorry for his friend. He had heard the leather against his friend, but as he administered his own whipping to his disobedient girl, he knew his friend had, at least, his clothes on when his father corrected him. The leather’s slap against the fleshy mounds of El’s ass was clear and loud. The sound stung.

He smiled as he watched El’s bare butt turn red in precise even lines all down her butt. He enjoyed the muffled sounds from her mouth as she held the bar of soap between her lips.

“Don’t you dare spit that soap out,” he warned. He aimed another swipe of the leather to El’s bottom. “You hold that soap in your nasty, back talking mouth, and accept your punishment.” Another well placed lick with the belt. And another. And another.

El held the bar of bitter soap in her mouth, her teeth halfway through its thickness, and suffered through her whipping. Her ass was so sore and painful, her pussy so cold and gone from her, her mouth so full of suds and salvia because she didn’t dare swallow, that she began to cry. She couldn’t help herself. She bawled and regretted, regretted her unmindful, grand behavior. She knew better.

Mr. Z stopped, and as he put his belt back around his slacks, noticing the massive bulge in his crotch (he’d offer it to El if he didn’t think of her sucking him off wasn’t a reward) told her, “That is one fine color of red on your bad little bottom, Miss. Nice, neat stripes across your backside. That’s testimony to my excellent aim, the beauty and balance of your stripes. Quite perfect, I’d say. I did a good, precise job. Didn’t I?”

El nodded in eager agreement. Her face still wet from her spent tears.

“Huh?” Z asked. “I couldn’t hear that. Oh, oh, that’s right. Your mouth is being punished too. Corrected to remember just who the hell you are, and how you are to talk to your superiors! You may remain as you are, butt bared, soap in mouth until I come and get you to start dinner.”

Mr. Z left the room and helped himself to another beer.

El, unwilling to swallow the sudsy water in her mouth, drooled all over her bed sheet. She’d probably catch hell for it, but she had no choice. The soap was disgusting and tasted poisonous, but it was working. She never wanted to mouth off or sass or cuss or over spend again in her life.

Mr. Z finally returned and allowed her to rid her mouth of the soap. He had to help her because her teeth had suck so deep into the soft bar. She was still kneeling down, bent over her bed.

“Oh, my,” Mr. Z tut, tutted. “My belt must have delivered my message. Look at these teeth marks. Maybe we should keep this. Display it for you. Help keep you focused. How does that sound? Should we buy a nice glass case and put your bar inside. Prop it up in your bedroom so your remember what happens to little girls that sass and disrespect her betters.”

“Yes, sir,” El gagged.

“You soiled your bedcover. Strip that off and put on a fresh cover. You may rise and get to work. You may not replace your panties. You may not rinse your mouth.”

El worked quickly, running the soapy bedcover to the laundry room. She eyed the wash basin thirstily. She wanted to wash the soap out of her mouth, but didn’t dare. When she returned to her room and finished replacing the bedcover, Mr. Z had her stand, her left side to him, and he held her left wrist in his left hand. With his right hand he lifted up her dress and looked at her bare butt.

“That looks like one sore ass, Miss,” he commented. “Describe it to me.”

“It is sore, sir. You are quite skilled with your belt. I have never felt so corrected, never so loved.”

Z’s cock thumped back to life. When she put her mind to it, El was brilliant.

“You’ve been spared a lot of cuts. You have just a few. You’ll have a tender backside a few days, but that’s tough isn’t it?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not?”

El hung her head, her mouth bitter, her ass bared. “I deserved my whipping.”

“And?”

“And my bar of soap.”

“God damn right you did. Hold up your dress.” El grabbed it in her right hand. Z swatted her ass. El jumped. “Arch your back,” he told her. He spanked her with his bare hand. “Why don’t you count for me, baby? Nice and clear. Let’s hear your shitty mouth behaving today.” His hand began to work.

“One! Two! Three! Four, five, six,” El counted. Her butt was beyond sore and blazing hot! “Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…”

At twenty hand swats, she was allowed to stop counting. Mr.Z next used a paddle on El’s bottom, and was paddled again to twenty. She was forced to thank her daddy, Daddy Z, for loving her after each swat of the wooden board to her bottom.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

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