The Subjection of Mom and Sis

The Subjection of Mom and Sis Chapter Five

The completion of the third ‘booby drag race' had been a long arduous task. Painful? Yes. Very. Very, very painful. But now it was over. Mrs. Joan Peterson had never realized just how far it was from the small utility room just off the kitchen to her daughter's bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway. But she knew now. God how she knew. Never in her wildest dreams would she had thought of the mode of travel she had taken to travel that distance. It was an insane way to move about. Totally insane. One-hundred percent bonkers. But she did it. Not that Mrs. Joan Peterson was crazy. Though she felt that her sanity was rapidly slipping away. She was sure that she would be over the deep end very shortly. No it wasn't Mrs. Joan Peterson that was nuttier than a fruitcake. Nope it wasn't her. It was the other person in her daughter's bedroom with her. Her seventeen-year-old son. Her half nude son. Her naked below the waist lunatic son.

Before ten o-clock this morning Joan had thought that she had a perfectly normal teenage son. He had become lazy and had dropped out of school. He would hold up in his room for days on end. But she chocked that up to the passing of his father a few months ago. She was sure that he would snap out of it soon. Over all Joan thought she had a pretty good kid.

That was until she found that horrid bondage tape in the VCR. That's when her entire would turned up side-down. And to her grave regret found out how very sick her son truly was. Oh how she had wished that she had never found that bondage tape. She would rather have foolishly lived in ignorance of her son's sadistic nature as he fantasized over bondage videos. Instead knowing about and becoming an unwilling participant in her son's sadistic pleasures.

Now it was too late. She had suffered unmanageable tortures at the sadistic hands of her son. She was positive that her posterior was scared for life and her poor nipples were ruined. Though her vagina had taken terrible abuse her son as of yet had not had intercourse with her. He had push his penis into her. In both her mouth and rectum. He had brutally raped her in those two places. But had yet raped her in the vagina. That was not to say that her son had not taken liberties with her vagina. Instead of his phallus it was the four fingers and palm of his right hand that he had shoved deep inside her. He did not use his hand as a substitute phallus. Nope nothing so mundane. The hand her son had jammed into her vagina served only as a convenient way he could hold her knees off the floor. This caused most of her weight to press down on her boated, pain riddled, savagely whipped nipples.

With her legs folded back, secured thighs to calves with belts and her hammerlock position arms held in place with belts that threatened to choke her if she dared to move them and her son holding her knees off the floor via her vagina Mrs. Joan Peterson felt as if she had been converted into some bizarre type of wheelbarrow.

All of her restrained muscles were cramping so much that the twitching and bulging flesh was burning intensely. And to top it all off she was sure that she would never get the taste of her daughter's pet cat urine and feces out of her mouth.

Yes Mrs. Joan Peterson truly wished she had never found that dreadful bondage videotape titled ‘Missy's Breasts Bondage'.

From her servitude position Joan watched her son dump the contents of the pillowcase that he had gathered from the utility room onto her daughters bed. Once the contents were on the bed he ripped of the pink canopy top off her daughter's four posted canopy bed. Next he stood on the bed and screwed two eyebolts into the tops of the six foot high solid Maplewood footboard bedposts and screwed an eyebolt in the ceiling over the center of the bed. With that done he attached a hand crank winch (it had been on the boat trailer before it had been swapped out for an electric winch.) to the wall above the headboard. After placing the winch in the free fall position Joan watched her son feed the winch's stainless steel cable through the eyebolt in the ceiling and down to the footboard.

Setting on the footboard of his sister's bed Roger barked menacingly, “MOMMY, COME HERE.”

Groaning in misery the thirty-eight-year-old mother shimmied and squirmed on her tortured nipples and breasts over to her son.

“Mommy, present those boobies that belong to me!”

Joan struggled up on to her knees before her sadistic son. She shuttered in fear as her son lassoed her left breasts with a length of cotton clothesline. After pulling the loop snuggly around the base of her left breast her son did the same with another length of clothesline around the base of her right breast. With horror Joan watched her son stand up on the foot of her daughter's bed with the two lines lassoing her breasts and the winch's cable. Her son threaded the line lassoing her left breast through the eyebolt screwed in to the right footboard post and the right breast line through the left footboard post's eyebolt. Now the two breasts lines were crossed. He then secured the two crossed breasts lines to the wench's cable.

With an evil smirk on his face Roger got off the bed and went to the wall mounted wench. He set the wench to the hoist position and turned the handle.

Mrs. Joan Peterson spit out her chew toy and screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt the two clothes lines lassoing her breasts tighten, “OH GOD NO! PLEASE DON'T! PLEASE ROGER PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO YOUR OWN MOTHER! PLEASE ROGER!”

Roger didn't stop. He continued to crank the wench's handle. The two clotheslines became tighter and tighter and tighter. The bases of Joan's breasts were squished to one-third of there normal circumference. This took all of slack out of the thirty-eight-year-old woman breasts tissue. They no longer laid droopily on her chest. Instead they stuck out from her chest like two over ripe cantaloupes. Though the crushing of the bases of her breasts was very painful it wasn't near the agonizing pain that roared through her newly created minitits and nipples as their skin was stretched taunt as her breasts ballooned. At bad as the pain in her ballooned breasts was it was at a level that the thirty-eight-year-old mother could tolerate. It was far less painful then having her breasts whipped with the wire clothes hanger. Not only were her breasts squeezed in to two tight balloons they were also pulled upward towards the tops of the footboard posts. And with the two lines crossed her breasts were pulled towards each other. Joan strain hard to thrush her snared breasts upward to relive some of the painful strain on them. Though she prayed that her son would release her breasts she knew he would not. Joan let out a small sigh of relief when her evil son stopped turning the wench's handle.

The thirty-eight-year-old mother watched her seventeen-year-old son climb up on her daughter's bed. He knelt before her sperm coated face. His eight-inch bone stiff cock bobbing across her lips. Reluctantly Joan lanced her tongue out and lapped it across the bulbous head of her son's bobbing phallus.

“I want more then a lick job this time mommy!” Roger growled as her shoved his cock into his mother's mouth. “I want some sucking to go with that licking mommy. I want you to hove my spunk right out of my balls. Understand mommy?”

With her mouth full of her son's cock Joan answered his question by sucking as hard as she could on the throbbing flesh. As her son's rigid prick pummeled in and out of her mouth and throat Joan sucked hard on it. She even swirled and twirled her tongue around the stiff shaft. She lapped furiously at the piss slit whenever it was pulled back out of her throat. Though this was her first full-fledged deep throating blowjob the thirty-eight-year-old mother was doing it like a pro.

Having ejaculated three times already Joan had to suck and lick while being deep throated for over thirty minutes before her evil son released his forth load of sperm which was jetted directly into her rumbling stomach.

With a purr of contentment Roger pulled his spent fuck rod from his mother's sucking, licking mouth. “That was very nice mommy.” Roger cooed as he got off his sister's bed. “You did such a good job that I'm going to let you have both of your chew toys.”

Roger picked up both of his mother's cat shit and cat piss filled panties and stuffed them both into her mouth.

“CHEW!”

Mrs. Joan Peterson instantly started chewing on both of her chew toys that were filled with their chewy flavor centers. As she chewed away her son wrapped several layers of duct tape around her head and across her mouth. When done the entire bottom half of Joan's head was cocooned by the sliver tape. Now even if she dared to Joan couldn't eject the fowl tasting panties from her mouth.

“Well mommy we had a most enjoyable day so far but I need a little rest before sis comes home to join in on the fun. Snickered Roger.

On hearing her son the thirty-eight-year-old mother went berserk. It was bad enough for her very own son to rape and torture her. But to do the same to her fifteen-year-old daughter was totally unacceptable. Joan tried to vehemently convey her objections to her sadistic son. But with her mouth stuffed full of cat bodily waste products filled panties the only thing that made its way pass her taped up mouth was a stream of unintelligible muffled howls. Still she tried.

Roger enjoyed his mother's frantic muffled antics. Though he could not understand a single word his mother was franticly trying to convey he knew she was trying to talk him out of letting his brainy, snot nose little sister join in on the fun time.

Roger walked back over to where the wench was. “Mommy while I get a bit of rest what do you say to you hanging around till little sis gets home.” Roger giggled as he grabbed the winch handle.

Mrs. Joan Peterson stopped her protesting of the inclusion of her daughter onto her son's sadistic world and started screaming in agonizing pain as she was lifted up off the floor by her lassoed breasts. She tried with every ounce of strength that she possessed to free her hammer locked arms from behind her back. But it was to no avail. The only thing she achieve was increasing the ripping pain in her lassoed breasts and choke herself into submission.

Higher and higher Roger lifted his mother by her ballooned breasts. He loved the way she flayed about and struggled to free her bound hands. When her flaying knees cleared the top edge of the bed's footboard his mommy did a mid air about face as the crossed line that were snaring her ballooned breasts unwound. She rocked back and for a bit then settled down. Her knees flayed wildly about as they sought some sort of perch to relive the agonizing strain on the breasts that held her suspended.

Roger climbed into his sister's bed. Laying down he begin to fist his limp cock as he watched his mommy struggle to free herself. Though his cock stirred a bit it did not become fully erect. But that was alright. After all he had pop four large loads of his male seed. One up his mommy's virgin poop-chute, two into her tummy, and one across her face. All in all it had been a very active day for his fuck rod. It deserved a little rest before little sis showed up. So with that in mind Roger drifted off to sleep with his mother's wild midair bucking.

The thirty-eight-year-old mother could hear her seventeen-year-old son snoring in deep restful slumber behind her. She wished that she could join him. God knows how she wished she could just lay down to ease her suffering. But that was not to be. Mrs. Joan Peterson remained hanging in agony by her ballooned breasts. She was sure that any moment now her breasts would be ripped of her chest. That didn't happen either. She remained dangling from her daughter's footboard bedposts.

Joan had no idea how long she hung by her breasts like a slab of beef waiting for inspection. But through the haze of unrelenting pain Joan heard her fifteen-year-old daughter's chirpy, cheerful voice. “ Oh god please no! Please God no. Let my daughter escape from her insane brother's clutches .” Joan prayed behind her duct-taped mouth that was stuffed with two pairs of her panties that were filled by the pet cat's bodily waste products.

“MOMMY I Did IT!”

end of chapter 5

To Be Continued