OTK Ch. 04

As I returned home I was still excited about the fact that I'd fucked my mother that morning, and ordered her to keep wearing the new see-through bra and her suspenders and stockings. The only concession I'd made was that she could change her very wet panties. She had adapted to my domination excellently over the last two days, obeying almost immediately every command I made aimed at exposing her body and doing exactly what I told her. Tonight I knew would prove once and for all that she was mine to do with as I chose.

Entering the house I heard no sounds - where was she? I glanced into the kitchen, then the front room - empty.

"Mother?" I called.

A murmur, from the back of the house. I strode to our lounge, and there she was, sitting on the sofa, wearing a dress that left little of herr tits hidden. I could see the swell of them, with just the edge of her new bra peeping over the low-cut neckline. Slowly, she stood. Oh my God! The dress finished just above her knees, and the dark top of her stockings was on show. My cock hardened.

"I hope you like this, son," she said, her hands behind her back in a very submissive way.

I looked her up and down, my eyes stalling on her tits. "Raise the dress. I want to see you're panties, mother."

My mother slowly gripped the hem and lifted. Her bare flesh above the stockings was glorious; then the beginning of her panties, bright red, the ones I'd bought her. "Higher" I commanded, and she brought the dress up to her waist. The panties were tight, and through the material I could see her bush - the hair I'd told her not to cut or trim. I liked it.

"Mother, the other night I spanked your bottom. Tonight I'm going to do it again." She gasped and nearly let go of the dress. "Oh, Don, why? I'm doing as you want, surely?"

I smiled - yes, she was, but I was revelling in my power, and wanted to ensure she realised I was now totally in charge of her. "Mother, you will do exactly as I tell you. Now.." But she let the dress go and stood, hands on her waist: "No, Don, I won't. Whatever perversion you think you've planned for tonight is NOT going to happen!" Mother's face was red, she was angry. Good.

For a few seconds I stared at her, long enough for her to think I was considering her refusal. Then I closed the door, and walked a couple of steps towards her. Keeping my voice low I said: "Take off your dress, mother."

Mother glared at me. "Take off your dress." I saw her eyes glance from side to side, but of course there was no one and nothing to help her. "Mother, I'm going to spank you - you will NEVER speak to me like that again." Pause. "Will you?"

She blinked, and slowly, reluctantly, reached again to the hem, and began to pull the dress off over her head. Stockings, panties, bra. She stood in them, twisting the dress in her hands. Her nipples were erect in the peep-hole bra, her breathing heavy with anger and thus accentuating the swell of her tits. I gestured to her to put the dress on a chair and she obeyed. Her hands were twitching - she was still contemplating some form of rebellion.

"Put your hands on the top of your head" I instructed her. It was time to banish all thought of refusal.

Mother slowly raised them up and locked them to the top of her head. I stepped forward and began to fondle her tits, then to tweak the exposed nipples. I deliberately hurt her and she winced but said nothing. "Tell me, mother dear, what am I doing?" A long pause, during which I gripped her left tit hard and felt the extended nipple pushing against the palm of my hand. Then: "you're touching my breasts. You're hurting me."

I smiled a little. "No, no, mother, I'm playing with your tits. Repeat after me: my son is playing with my naked titties." A slow breath, then: "my son is playing with my naked titties." "Good. Now ask me to let you play with them."

Mother stared past me, and quietly started to repeat my words. I held up my hand. "No. Loudly, please."

"Please, Don, may I play with my own titties? May I excite them for you?" I reckoned I'd won, but wasn't ready for her to touch herself yet. "In a moment. First, bend over the arm of the chair. I want to see that wanton bum of yours."

She turned and did as ordered - her plump buttocks outlined in the material of her tight red panties. I slapped her legs to make her spread them, and now I could see properly the crotch of the panties stretched across her cunt. I stroked her bum, then fondled each buttock quite firmly, at all times feeling her tightening her muscles in dislike.

Then I commenced the spanking. I alternated from left to right to left to right, each spank spot on the flesh of her bum, never on the top of her legs. She murmured, then yelled, then started to cry properly - I was delighted. I'd achieved exactly what I wanted. She was being hurt, by her son, and allowing it to happen. I pulled down the panties, exposing a very red bum. Her hands were twitching, eager to rub herself to alleviate the pain. I stood back and watched, but she managed to control herself and keep gripping the back of the chair. After a minute or so I allowed her to stand up, with the proviso that her hands went straight on to her head - no bum rubbing yet! I ordered her to go and stand in the corner of the room, and the sight was magnificent. A nearly naked woman, panties down and with a reddened bum, standing in the corner on my instructions. And she was my mother!

I told her I was going into the kitchen for a moment, and that she must not move. Then I went out and put on the kettle. I wanted a drink, and intended to have it whilst enjoying the view I'd created.

When my tea was ready I walked, silently, back to the lounge, and was surprised to see my mother still facing the wall, hands behind the head but swinging her body gently from side to side, allowing her tits to nudge the wall as she went back and forth.

"Come here. What are you doing?" I demanded. Mother turned and walked over to me, the panties still anchored just above her knees. She almost grinned. "I was touching my tits to the wall, the cold wall. Look what it's done to my nipples."

I looked - oh I looked. They were rampant, the cold wall had hardened them beyond anything I'd seen before. I flicked them, it was almost like they were on a spring the way the vibrated. Mother quivered too, about the hips; she was horny beyond belief! I decided instantly she had played into my hands. "So, my mother is a slut, a complete and utter slut." I shouted this, and shock showed on her face. "Do you know the punishment for being a slut, without my permission?" Mother shook her head. "Mother, pull your panties back up. I'm going to cane your bottom till you can't comfortably sit down. I'm going to give you four strokes with those panties for protection, then six strokes on your bare bottom - on your bare naughty bottom." She was white now, her hands still on the head but the nipples resuming their usual shape. "Oh, Don, no, please. I'm sorry, really sorry. I'm your mother, you can't cane me!"

"Pull those panties up, then touch your toes, just like a naughty schoolgirl. NOW!"

And I turned to fetch the cane from its cupboard, where I'd put it after my last girlfriend departed (with a sore bum!).

When I went back into the lounge, my mother had bent over, presenting me with a lovely vista of her bum in the tight panties.

I stood alongside her and gave a couple of practice swings with the cane, causing her to gasp loudly. Then I lined it up, across the middle of her bum, exactly where I'd spanked her. Then I raised my hand, and brought it down. Thwack! Mother cried out, half rose, then resumed bending.

Again I lined it up, again I caned her. Thwack! She began to cry, and twisted to try to ease her bum.

I watched this, then went for number three, and this time she did stand up, rubbing her bum and moaning. I waited, then:"now bend down again. If you stand up again the stroke won't count." A moan greeted this, and I lined up stroke number four. Thwack! Mother stayed in position.

I retired to the sofa and sat, watching her wriggle and squirm, but not standing or attempting to rub. As the movement stopped, I told her to stand up and face me - no rubbing, and my mother obeyed. Tears marked her face, her hips squirming still. "Now, take off your panties and give them to me." She did as instructed, then stood in front of me, waiting.

"Go upstairs and bend over in your bedroom, mother. I'm still punishing you for your slutty performance with your titties." Mother scurried from the room, and I slowly followed her up. The sight of a red bum, now marked with the strokes of the cane greeted me. I walked over to her and unhooked her bra, which just fell to the floor. "I want to see your bare tits jiggle as I cane you," I told her. There was no reply.

My cock was now straining to get free from my jeans, so before I started I took off my jeans and underpants; my cock stood to attention like never before.

Then I grasped the cane and stood beside my mother. Her bum was sooo inviting.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Mother was crying again, and wriggling. But her hands remained in position just above her toes.

Thwack!! I put a bit more strength into this one, and it echoed round the room. So did mother's loud cry.

I paused. "How many did I say you were getting?" A long pause as she gulped, then: "six."

I waited a beat or two, then asked her: "what would you rather have now, three more strokes of the cane on your bare bum, or me fucking you?"

For a moment she fought for breath to speak, and then, without standing up, she began to beg me to fuck her, any way I liked, for as long as I liked. But no more caning.

I put down the cane and did a little victory raise of my hands. She was mine. All mine. No two ways about it, I'd got her.

My mother.

I helped her up; my cock was vibrating and her cunt was waiting.

But what, I wonder, happened next?