My story begins the summer before I started college. To be clear, I wasn’t an
innocent sexually or otherwise. The otherwise in this case being a developed attraction
for the special exhilaration rough sex provided. I didn’t like pain for pain’s sake, but
like many athletes playing hurt was an equivalent turn on. It was a nature I evidently
inherited from my mom and grandma and so on. That became evident during afternoon tea on
the porch of grandma’s privy rough summer cottage.
“My,” grandma smiled over a steaming cup of tea, “Nancy dear you have really filled
out.”
“She sure has,” mom agreed. “Every boy within a hundred miles has their eyes on
her.”
Of course I just smiled back as shyly as I could, probably with little effect.
There were indications mom knew that a collection of those boys had had more than their
eyes on me, and in me. Provided birth control from just after my first period was needed
and an implied acknowledgement of the risks of a developing me. Of even greater
significance, the nature, intensity and frequency of discipline changed at about the same
time - but, back to the story.
“That’s to be expected,” grandma said with what I took as a sense of pride.
“For sure she has our female line’s unique peculiarities,” mom added sadly it
seemed.
“Nance, why don’t you go play in the creek,” grandma said. “Your mom and I have a
few things to discuss in private.”
I hesitated, trying to understand the meaning of grandma’s words. Mom added to my
confusion with, “Nancy dear, please do as grandma says and take advantage of the summer’s
waning simplicity.”
I did as told, but having fun wadding in a wilderness shallow creek was far from my
mind. As I grudgingly walked away, I strained to listen in on their continuing
conversation. At the time, I didn’t find the discussion alarming. I should have.
“Are you and Eric still entangled with that roguish swingers’ faction?” grandma
asked.
“Entangled is a little strong,” mom answered.
“Rumors would indicate otherwise.”
“Ah, your history in such matters isn’t what one could call normal,” mom countered
rather forcefully I thought. Tales of grandma’s past escapades were laced with profane
allusions.
“Touché,” grandma responded, I sensed with a smile. “What of Nancy then? Do you
plan to expose her to Wildness anytime soon?”
I had gone too far to hear mom’s answer, but with their perplexing words echoing
through my mind, wickedness was surely in play. The next evening back at home in Seattle
I found out how right I was.
It was past ten and I was reading a book in bed when I heard my parents leave their
bedroom down the hall. That was not unusual, but my mom and dad’s unguarded exchange at
the top of the stairs was shocking, and at the same time titillating to a disturbing
degree.
“Get downstairs in the basement and ready yourself for me,” I heard him growl all
sexy like. “I’m going to fix myself a stiff one and will be down shortly to whip you
insane from tits to cunt…and all the sweet bits in between.”
“Hum…better start with my sex,” mom responded with a husky tone of her own. “It is
being bad dripping wet and all. It needs to be taught a lesson that this is to be a
punishment and not one of our pain charged sexual plays.”
There were sounds of kissing and moaning, and two sharp smacks I was very familiar
with: an open male palm spanking a female’s bare bottom. There was more.
“Tell that naked pussy of yours,” my dad hissed, “it is in for a through
strapping.”
“That’s not fair,” mom groaned. “You’re making me have a pre-whipping orgasm.”
And she did, I was sure of it. There wasn’t any doubt about it. The sounds were
convincing enough, but I could feel her shaking with orgasmic rapture. I sensed her sex
convulsing upon itself. Her whine confirmed what I knew was red raw pleasurable rage
surging through her in waves of ecstasy. The continued sound of my dad spanking her surly
was adding to the release with jolts of pain-pleasure. Even more disturbing, their
unabashed embrace was turning my initial trepidation into intoxicating desires. I had been
there before, but the experience was not as intense. Certainly not at the level that was
shortly to be revealed to me.
“Now git,” was punctuated with the sound of another swat and the subsequent
telltale squeak of stairs indicated descending movement.
Emotionally overwhelmed is the only way I can describe my feeling. As I said, I
was not an innocent, but these were my parents. And tugging on my conflicted psyche was
that this was some kind of bizarre vignette being played out openly for my benefit. My
bedroom door was open, the light was on, no whys or reasons were given for the punishment.
Of greater concern, the blatant sexual nature of their rather open exchange had triggered
a hormone explosion in me that was quite frankly generating an equal measure of guilt.
Thoughts of the pending corporeal discipline of my own mom shouldn’t be exciting me, but
they were. That she seemed to be actively compliant with the pending punishment helped me
mitigate the guilt and fear into salacious interest. I needed to see what was going to
happen for myself.
Waiting for as long as I could stand it, I made my own way down the stairs and to
the top of the basement steps. I could hear movement and sounds of grunting. “Honey,
stretch up on your toes for me,” was followed by “Perfect…now for your ankles.”
My sex went from warm to hot, nipples to hard and mouth to dry. I crept down the
stairs to crouch on the darkened landing. Shaking with apprehension, I looked through the
vertical slats to find my father securing my suspended mom’s ankles far apart. With the
exception of a dark leather hood and the four wrist-ankle cuffs she was naked; and looked
so beautiful and sensually vulnerable. I wanted to cry out in an effort to stop what was
about to happen. I didn’t. Instead I sought further visual access to the spectacle
developing below me, and I reached under my nightgown and began to finger tease my excited
sex. I was being a shameless aroused voyeur, captivated by an eroticism I did not yet
fully understand.
With the slamming of a black leather strap into my mom’s open sex the first cum of
the night gushed through me.
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