TABOO TALES(erotica)

Matt entered. He stuffed a small, rock-hard red apple into her mouth and strapped it in. After securing her limbs, he picked up the bamboo and said, “This is for wearing a halter and shorts yesterday, rather than your approved clothing. It’s time to mark you, but with something more substantial than a flyswatter.”

Without more preliminaries, he raised the cutting and struck it down on the middle of her tight ass. Janice clenched her teeth on the apple but remained still, conscious of the moment: the first time her son applied an actual whip stroke to his own mother’s flesh. She felt semi-delirious with excitement. Perspiration appeared in the small of her back. Her ass showed a distinct red line. He struck a second time, harder and higher than the first. She groaned for five seconds. A second stripe appeared, more livid than the first. “Your skin shows the marks beautifully, mother.” Her head hung forward, saliva flowing around the apple onto the chair. He struck again with a vicious cut, lower than the first mark. Her head snapped up as she screamed outright, remembering in a flood of images the worst punishments he’d administered: dipping her breasts in burning lotion, sinking tea clamps onto her nipples and labia, heating metal funnels that imprisoned her breasts. Now she felt the sweat coursing down her spine into the crack of her ass. A third weal bloomed into being on her buttocks. When he specifically lashed the dark coral ring of her sphincter, she screamed and faded out to the familiar duet of clicks and flashes.

When Janice opened her eyes, she’d been moved up onto the chair, flipped over and retied. She was kneeling, her arms fastened to her ankles, a bolster behind her upper back so her torso was diagonal, a pillow under her ass to expose her slit. Her ass cheeks and ass hole burned on the pillow from the willow cutting. The apple gag had been removed. The heat lamps stared at her. By her side, Matthew knelt on the chair arm, facing her, holding a creamsicle.

“This is your first dessert. Time to hydrate you again. Lick the sides slowly.” He held the dessert sideways against her mouth.

She extended her tongue and licked the delicious underside. “Mmmmm.” Under the lamps, it was already softening.

“Again.” She slid her tongue lasciviously along the top, acting as if it was his cock. It began dripping, white drops spattering on her breasts. “Open wide.” He jammed the whole thing into her mouth, grinding it in a circle as she moaned, while pulling his cock out of his pants. “Suck it hard when I pull it out but don’t swallow.” He yanked out the creamsicle, said, “Again,” plunged it in again, withdrew it slowly, warned her not to swallow and plunged it into her cunt. The entire length was absorbed. She screamed in shock from the icy cold, then gasped, her body spasming and her mouth wide open, a lake of cream inside.

He held his prick in front of her in the same way. After all this time, she needed no prompting. She licked the thick rod underneath from base to tip, then again along the top, savoring every moment. He squeezed the head of his cock and several drops of pre-cum joined the cream on her breasts. He checked the creamsicle and watched as a stream of cream from the shrinking popsicle flowed from her blazing cunt onto the floor. He straddled the chair, facing her with his knees on the arms. “Open wide.”

He plunged his thick meat into her mouth hole hard and fast. The shock of the cold on his cock and the lubrication from all the cream was a rush for him. “Don’t swallow,” he warned. He pistoned in and out, holding her head still, and being a teenager, he had a massive cum in a few seconds, yelling, flooding her mouth with jism, so much that her cheeks bulged like a chipmunk.

He pulled out and looked down at her pussy. All he could see that was left of the creamsicle was the wooden stick. He picked up an oversized martini glass and positioned it under her mouth. Kneeling in front of her, he dipped the two cigar tubes into the pool of cream on the floor, spreading her cunt lips and positioning the larger one directly at her hole. He moved the thinner tube until it was applying slight pressure on her rosebud, beginning to distend it. “Oh my God,” she thought, her eyelids fluttering in disbelief, “he’s going to fuck both my holes with dildos at the same time, like he did in the kitchen.”

“Mother!” he shouted. The moment her eyes met his, ensuring her humiliation, he shoved the dildos in. She screamed, her head and neck jutting forward as she spat a wave of cum and cream from her mouth into the glass, filling it till the overflow poured onto her sweaty breasts. She gazed at him blankly, dazed, as he pumped the dildos.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Almost done. Only a bit more.” He stood, walked to the microwave and heated the dripping martini glass. Now that I’ve marked your rear, you must wear my marks in the front as well.”

“No!” she begged from behind the gag as he removed the glass from the microwave. He climbed back with his knees on the arms of the chair. Her jaw hung open slackly, so he stuffed the apple back in and picked up the bamboo. “Three more.”

Steam wafted up from the martini glass. Once again, she remembered the intense pain when he’d forced her breasts into the hot sun block lotion at the pool, when he’d crushed her nipples in the heated tea clamps, when he’d forced her breasts into the metal funnels and heated them. He picked up the glass, placed it under a breast, and tilted it up so the tit was immersed in the hot cream. Her head twisted left and right in pain. He pulled off the glass, the abused breast encased in thick, dripping goo, and upended the glass over the other breast. Her head flipped back and forth more violently. When he removed the glass, the dark brown nipple stood out like a pillar in a sea of white. “Now they look like they did at the pool when we pushed your tits into the hot sun block. But that’s about to change.”

Her eyes stared up at him, wide in wonderment. In an instant, she realized he was not about to whip or flog her tits, he was actually going to cane them. It was as if they’d skipped college completely and skipped to graduate school. There were marks in this school, but they were being left on flesh, not paper. She marveled at his cruelty. He always raised the stakes. In one session, she thought, her own son had not only caned her ass, filled her cunt with a frozen dildo, forced double dildos up her holes, made her suck his cock and take his cum, he was also going to mark her beautiful tits.

Matt started to vigorously pump the cigar tubes all the way and out. When she appeared to be reaching a crescendo of screaming and twisting, he swung the bamboo across both breasts, hitting her dark aureola but narrowly missing the nipples. The goo splattered onto his naked belly, cock and balls. Even with the bindings, her body sprang up after a second’s pause, her breasts smashing up against his balls and ass. After a few more seconds, even through the cream and cum, a vivid mark appeared. Her head lolled. He pulled it up by her hair until she saw the cane. “No,” she moaned, and he swung again, hitting her breasts lower down, glop splashing his thighs. Her torso arced again into his cock and balls, her face contorted into a grimace. The first mark had solidified and darkened in color to a burnt red. A wider weal grew above it. “Open your eyes.” He adjusted her head so she was looking at her breasts and whipped the cane down harder than ever, above her nipples. Goo flew up to his chest and nipples. “Arrgghhh!” she said, her body going into a shaking seizure for a full minute as she climaxed and passed out.

She had figured out the clicks and flashes, so it was not a surprise when she awoke a few minutes later to see Matt photographing her spread-eagled body with the digital camera. He took shots of her drenched chest, her chocolate nipples poking through the white covering, and especially the double tubes extending obscenely from her bare cunt and stretched asshole.

Finished, he straddled her again, his pelvis in her face. He squeezed her right breast and twisted the nipple on her right breast until her eyes fluttered open. “Clean me.” Imagining how degraded she must look, she carefully licked the jism and cream off his scrotum and balls, heavy in their tight sac. She looped her tongue around his shaft and methodically cleaned everywhere, afraid he would cane her nipples. He tilted his chest down to her and her long tongue scraped across his abdomen and hungrily licked at his stained nipples.

“Now it’s time to clean you. You’re a mess again.” He propped the empty martini glass underneath her breast. It was easy to grab the protruding nipple with his thumb and finger and pull it up and away from the chest. She squirmed but remained silent. Firmly, he scraped the stick along the underside of her breast, as roughly across the cane mark as elsewhere, and deposited a load of cream in the glass.