Getting Along Sean Taylor glares angrily at his mother, his hands shaking as he pushes away from the table. "You said I could go!" Annette Taylor looks hard at her 16-year-old son. "That is NOT what I said-what I said was that you could go IF your father approved." "And then you forgot to ask him!" "Sean," Annette sighs, wipes her hands on her jeans, turns off the water, "I told you I'm sorry-I'm not perfect, there's been so much going on lately, so much to do before your dad left." She walks toward him, her hands outstretched lovingly, "Please, sweetie-there will be other concerts, can't we just find a way to get along?" Sean backs up, avoiding her attempt at a hug, "I don't care about other concerts, I want to go to this one!" Grabbing his backpack, he pushes past her, muttering "Stupid bitch." Annette grabs his shoulder, spins him around-he's almost a full foot taller, but the move is a long practiced and perfected one. Her brown eyes wide, shocked, she lifts her hand, gasps when Sean grabs that hand, bends it back painfully. "Don't you fucking dare, Mom." He gives her hand a solid jerk before dropping it. "That would be a huge fucking mistake." Turning, he walks through the living room, slamming the front door behind him. Annette sits down hard, rubbing her hand. Three weeks-his father would be gone for three weeks, and unreachable the first two. She takes a deep breath, hopes this morning isn't a sign of things to come. "Yeah, but she's hot, dude!" Erik laughs, takes a hit from the bong, "I mean TOTALLY hot-have you looked at that rack on her?" Sean takes the bong, eyes his friend thoughtfully, "Shut the fuck up, man." He drags deeply, holds it, hacking on the exhale, "She's not hot, she's my fucking mother." "Whatever, dude-I'd do her, that's all I'm saying." "Look, all I'm saying is that she needs to learn that she can't fucking treat me like this, I'm not some stupid baby," Sean hands the bong off to the back seat, "that's all I'm saying-she needs to learn some fucking respect." A deep drag from the back, a long, slow exhale. "So let's teach her." Sean and Erik look back at Alex, eyes wide, shot with red. "What do you mean?" Alex smiles lazily, hands the bong back up front. "Just what I said-your old man's gone for 3 weeks, right? Plenty of time to teach a bitch her place." "Sean, we need to talk." Annette motions to Sean, calling him into the kitchen. "Not now, Mom. Erik and Alex are staying for dinner, what are we having?" "Sean, yes now-the school called, where were you today?" Sean looks up, his eyes bright, playful. "It's a surprise, Mom-for you. We'll talk after dinner, okay?" He and his friends walk past her, settling down at the dining room table, their backpacks at their feet. "I'm starved." Annette watches the boys over dinner, her lips drawn into a slight frown. They've been hyper-polite, giggly, giddy. She feels like the only one not in on some grand joke. Every time she looks up from her plate she finds their eyes upon her, considering. It makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and she doesn't like it a bit. Sean's behavior, his grades have been steadily deteriorating since the beginning of the school year. Since he started hanging out with Erik and Alex. She shakes her head, stands, taking the plates to the sink. She'll talk to Sean's dad when he gets back. Something definitely needs to be done. Alex nods at Sean, reaches down to unzip his backpack. "Showtime, Sean." He murmurs, eyes cold as his hand closes around the coiled rope in his bag. "Whenever you're ready." "Fuck it, let's do it now." Rising, Sean walks toward the kitchen, Alex and Eric right behind him. "Hey, Mom?" Annette turns her head, smiles uncertainly as they approach, her hands still swiping the remnants of dinner off the plates, dunking them in the hot, sudsy water. "There's something I think we need to get straight between us." Turning her head back to her task, she takes a deep breath, braces herself for the next argument-she knows the tone, the approach. She never sees Alex pull the rope from behind his back. Annette gasps, grunts as Erik throws his full weight against her, hand tangling in her black hair, plunging her head into the sink full of water. She struggles wildly, her hands pushing frantically against the counter, her legs kicking furiously as he pushes harder, harder, lifting her short legs off the floor. Her head whips desperately under the soapy water as first one hand, then the other is yanked back, rough rope twisted, wound tightly, binding her wrists behind her. Hauling her back, Erik shoves her to her knees as Alex crams a dish towel into her gaping, gasping mouth. Kneeling behind her, he drags the rope up, around her head, winding it through her mouth before jerking back hard, wrenching her head back, her arms up between her shoulder blades. Pushing her to her belly, he and Eric each grab a straining leg, pulling up, securing them with a length of rope. They stand back, admire her squirming, hog-tied form. "Now we're gonna find a way to get along, Mom." Sean bends down, grasps her dripping hair, yanks her up painfully. "I think I'm liking you better already." Dropping her back to the floor, he laughs harshly. Annette squirms helplessly, her wide eyes tear-filled, stinging from the soap. She rolls her eyes up, stares at the boys standing around her. She whines through her nose, pleading wordlessly. Her whines turn to muffles screams as Erik goes to the knife rack, pulls out a large, serrated blade. Her eyes dart to Sean, begging, horrified. He smiles, blows her a kiss as Erik flips her onto her back, waves the knife before her bugging eyes. She freezes as he presses the knife against her belly, pushes just slightly. "See, she ain't so stupid, Sean," Erik laughs, sliding the blade under her sweater. Leaning forward, he reaches with his other hand, strokes her trembling cheek. "I could just eat you all up." Giving the knife a sharp upward jerk, he slices through the angora, grasping the frayed edges to give a yank, finish the job. He whistles low at her D cup breasts, snugly held by a simple white cotton bra. "Why Mrs. Taylor, what big TITS you have!" The boys giggle as he buries his face between her breasts, wiggles his head. Pulling back, he slides the blade along her sternum, under the bra. He looks up at Sean, smiles at his enrapt expression, his shallow breathing. Turning the knife, he draws it sharply back, cutting through the band in one stroke. Her breasts spill free, large, surprisingly firm and pert. Setting the knife down, Erik starts to lean forward, then stops. "She's your Mom, dude, you get first crack at her." Sean nods eagerly, stumbles, then bends, straddling her belly, oblivious to her cries of pain as her arms are crushed beneath her. He leans, hands grasping, then digging into her soft flesh. His mouth envelops her areolas, nipples, one breast at a time. He sucks hard, moaning at her horrified writhing, her twisting under him. He sighs, sinks his teeth in viciously, holding tight as she bucks, screams in pain. He continues to grind his teeth in, jaws locking down despite-or because-of her struggles. Minutes pass, her writhing weakens, screams turn to pained sobs. Finally she lies still, trembling violently. Sean nods to himself, releases her tortured breast. "First lesson, bitch-the longer you fight, the longer I'm going to make you hurt. The harder you fight, the worse I'm going to make you hurt." Sean pushes himself up, walks to the fridge, grabs the pitcher of ice water. "Do you understand? I hope so, or we've got a long fucking three weeks ahead." Bending, he tips the pitcher, pours the frigid water over her bleeding breasts. Annette whines in the dark, her legs, arms, and neck screaming, agonizing, rope thrown over the basement ceiling beam to haul her cruelly into the air. Hours ago, hours ago they'd hung her up here. Said they were going to school. At first she'd been relieved-anything would have to be better than the belts slicing across her breasts, belly, buttocks. The detached, almost clinical exploration of her body with calloused fingers, slobbering mouths, biting teeth. But now she knows better-every moment hanging leaves her in more pain than she ever imagined possible. Her shoulders, wrenched painfully back, spasm violently, her legs tremble, ache. Her mouth is bleeding, she knows-the rope cutting cruelly into her soft lips, cheeks. She begins to cry again, destitute. "Show her!" Sean shouts angrily, his fist smashing into her jaw, sending her crashing to the cold cement floor. Erik hauls her back to her knees, her back arched painfully, wrists still secured to her ankles. Grabbing a length of rope, he loops it around her waist, then runs it down, across her bare pussy, threading it through in the back to run it back forward, working it deep between her lips. Sean stands before her, glowering, "Now WALK ON YOUR KNEES, bitch!" Annette stares up at his distorted face, sobs. Erik stands, jerks the rope viciously, grinding it between her legs, across her clit. Annette screams, her body tilting forward, falling on her belly hard. "AGAIN!" Sean is wild, enraged, pacing as Erik and Alex drag her to the knees once more. Annette whimpers, gasping, her pussy already raw from the rope. Struggling, teetering, she takes a few shaky, tottering steps on her knees before crashing to her face again. "There, see?" Sean's voice is suddenly soft, wheedling, "All you have to do is obey me, and things aren't so bad." Sitting back on his dad's workbench, he nods, gestures at the others. "Again." Annette sobs dryly, hacking, her mouth finally free. She stares down at her darkening breasts, the rope biting into her soft flesh, forcing them away from her chest in large, round globes. She shakes her head sickly, moaning. "No. Please, no." Sean growls, grabs one of the alligator clips he's scrounged from his dad's toolbox. Grasping one of her red, heavily veined breasts, he snaps it onto the nipple, smiling grimly as she screams hoarsely, her shoulders working violently to escape the torture. "You sure, Mom?" He grabs another clamp, captures the other jiggling breast, applying it with ease. Her screams are deep, agonized, her eyes glassy with pain, fear. "All you have to do is obey, Mom, and I'll take them off." Annette whines sickly, swaying on her knees. She knew it had to come eventually-the truly sexual part, the rapes. But demanding her complicity, her active participation-that she had not expected. She shakes her head, sobbing, moaning, her mouth moving in desperate, mumbled pleas. Clicking his tongue, Sean grabs another clamp, shoves her roughly to her back. A firm hand on her straining thigh, he feels around, then applies it to her clit. He nods as her hips buck in agony, her head whipping about as her screams become grinding, retching sobs. He watches her twitch, twist, smiles at her helpless struggles. "You sure you're sure, Mom?" Annette sobs, gagging as her head bobs up and down along Sean's rigid shaft. He moans, his hands tangling in her sweat matted hair, pushing down relentlessly as she struggles to pull back, breathe. "Oh, fuck you're good, Mom." Sean's hips rise, straining, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth, her throat, "Don't forget that tongue." She whines, gagging with each stroke, her tongue working along the underside of his tool frantically. "Look at me, Mom." Annette's eyes are squeezed shut, her full lips tightened, pulled under her teeth to keep from scraping. "LOOK AT ME, BITCH." Sean reaches down, tweaks a clamp, twisting it hard. She screams around his cock, sending vibrations along the shaft. Sean groans loudly, jerks her head down, burying her nose in pubic hair, tool deep in her throat. She begins to struggle frantically as his cock jerks, swells in her face, spewing his thick, sour cum. "Every single drop, Mom." Sean whispers, fucking her face furiously even as his cock spasms again, unleashing another load. Annette's throat works desperately, swallowing, milking him. Her belly tightens, she struggles not to vomit as his spunk hits home. Annette gasps, sputtering as he pushes her away. She gags at the taste, begins to retch horridly. "Puke it up and you'll have it for dinner cunt." Sean's voice is low, dangerous. She swallows hard, head hanging, fighting to keep it down. "Good girl." Reaching down, Sean removes the clamp from her right breast, smiling at her whines as the blood returns. "Now, service Erik." Annette looks up at him, shakes her head, "Please, Sean, please don't do this, please-" she stops as he captures her breast again, clamp poised. She whimpers sickly, looks up at Erik. "Walk on your knees, bitch." Sobbing, she balances on her bruised knees, moves awkwardly toward Erik. He unbuttons his jeans eagerly, holds his swollen cock out before him. "Come and get it, bitch." Annette sobs weakly, her breathing restricted by a rope looped around her neck, tied to the ceiling beam. She balances precariously on her knees, ankles bent up behind her. She knows that if she falls, she will hang. Her belly is tight, sore. Six blow jobs in a row-three to remove the clamps, another three to "prove" she really wanted them off. She licks her swollen, numb lips, eyes red rimmed, glazed. The boys are upstairs, playing Nintendo, she can hear them laughing. She cries harder-she hurts so bad, everything hurts. Her breasts are a strange crimson, tight, swollen globes of pain. Her knees feel broken, a sharp, grinding source of agony. "So how come we haven't fucked on her yet?" Erik's voice is thin, impatient. "I thought we were going to fuck her?" "No," Sean's voice is low, his smile cruel. "She's going to fuck us. And she's going to beg for it, too." Annette gags, strangling, twisting at the end of the rope, her knees a mere inch from the floor. "Now listen carefully, cunt," Alex's voice is light, animated, "you tell anyone, you die. You think we won't kill you?" He gives the rope a hard jerk, smiles affably as her eyes bug, her knees work helplessly. "It's very simple-you keep your stupid slut mouth shut, you live. You service us when commanded, you live. You tell a soul, even that wimpy shit of a husband of yours, and you die. Understand?" Annette struggles to nod, her eyes huge, horrified, her throat working under the tight rope. Alex nods, releases his grip, lets her fall to her knees, gasping. "So service me, bitch." Moaning, Annette opens her mouth, eyes closing tightly as he pushes his cock into her mouth. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, begins moving her head up and down, tongue swirling. "Either you're hungry or you're not, stupid!" Sean holds the cucumber out impatiently, eyes narrow, cruel. Annette lies on the dining room table, her knees bent, ankles secured to the mahogany legs. Her hands are bound in front of her. "It's your choice, Mom-but it's been five days since you've eaten. It's a simple thing I'm asking, all you have to do is obey, and you can eat it." He smiles as she whines, her hands extending shakily to grasp the cuke. Annette sobs, sickened, her trembling hands moving toward her pussy. With a pathetic groan, she begins pushing, shoving it into her dry hole. The boys laugh raucously as she begins fucking herself, her head back, eyes closed in shame as she plunges the huge cucumber deep. "Yeah! Move those hips, fuck it!" Alex's voice is tight, excited, his eyes devouring her, hands moving to grasp her jiggling, rope marked breasts. He moans, eyes hateful as her hips begin moving, bucking in time to the thrusts. Alex squeezes, pinches, thrilling to her whimpers, her tired cries. "Moan, bitch. Say you love it." Annette's head shakes in horror as her lips begin to move, slurred, mumbling. "I love it," she moans pathetically, "I love it." Annette sits hunched in the corner, legs akimbo, eating the cucumber greedily. She stares dully down as her mouth works, barely chewing before swallowing. She whines, dog-like, licking the juice from her fingers as she finishes. "Good job, Mom." Sean reaches down, strokes her flinching cheek. "Now let's get you cleaned up." Annette chokes, sobs in shame as she presses the hose against her asshole, pushes it in. The warm water floods her bowels as she kneels in the tub, head hanging, cheeks burning. Bound hands stretched back, she works the hose in and out, her ass cheeks clenching. The boys watch silently as she blasts herself clean, eyes glued to her motions. She stares miserably at the gleaming white porcelain, her hips moving numbly. "Turn." Sean watches, his gaze appreciative as his mother crawls across the floor, breasts swaying, ass swiveling toward him. "Show me." He holds the belt firmly in his hand, eyes the raised, criss-crossing welts on her ass, thighs. His other hand grasps a choker leash, gives it a hard snap. She whines, her ass begins moving, grinding, hips twitching back and forth, side to side. "You know, I think this new diet suits you, Mom-you're looking great." She whines, blinking back tears as the belt slices through the air, strikes her upturned ass. "Say thank you, bitch-that was a compliment, where are your fucking manners?" Annette stares blankly into the toilet bowl, the hard rim digging painfully into her breasts. Her hands are bound around the base, her head trapped inches from the water thanks to a large amount of duct tape. The stink of urine is unbearable, she retches dryly, strains once again to pull away. The boys are at school, and the toilet has become part of the daily ritual. Forcing her to her knees, securing her thusly, then pissing on her head, letting the hot stream run through her hair, trickle down the sides of her face and into the bowl. The first few times she had vomited, spent the day bound to a toilet bowl full of piss and her own puke. She swallows back the bile, moans. "Mmmm, smells great, Mrs. Taylor!" Erik sidles up behind Annette, hands grasping her bare breasts above the apron, "You sure can cook." He looks down at her round, welted buttocks, laughs. "That bow makes your ass look like a present just for me!" Annette takes a trembling breath, continues stirring the sauce. Alex places a foot between her feet, kicks them as far apart as the chain between her ankles will allow. "Tell me you want me to fuck you, bitch-beg me." "I-I want you to fuck me," her voice is small, hoarse, "p-please fuck me." "Tell me you want it up your ass." "P-please, I want it up my ass, please . . ." "Good bitch." Alex pulls his stiff cock out, presses it against her clenching ass. "Remember, you make a mess, you lick it up." He pushes roughly into her, smiling at her breathy whines, her clenching ass cheeks. Straining, he shoves until he is buried in her, grasps her hips and begins slamming hard. Annette grunts, whining, her hands flying to the counter to keep from being slammed into the hot burners. She cries, gasping as each vicious thrust threatens to knock her forward. He snakes a hand up, begins pinching, twisting her sore nipples. "Oh, Mrs. Taylor, you are HOT," he nuzzles his face against her neck, bites her shoulder. "I'm jealous-wish MY mom was so hot." Thrusting harder, he sinks his fingers into her bruised flesh, begins moaning. His strokes become jerking, uneven as he sighs, filling her battered asshole with his thick cum. "Stir that, bitch, don't you dare let it burn!" He leans into her, his softening cock still buried in her ass. She whines, begins stirring again, moaning low as his cock slips from her, a trail of pink-tinged cum trickling down her thighs. Annette pants, sobbing, her hands blistering as she lifts another spade full of dirt, piles it next to the hole. Hours now, hours she has been digging. Her arms tremble with exhaustion, her mind racing, the shotgun trained on her naked body. "Stop!" Alex steps forward, handing the gun to Erik. "That's a damned nice hole, Mrs. Taylor. Do you want to climb in, or do you want me to fill your stupid pussy with my cum?" Sobbing, Annette mumbles, her eyes round, stunned. She shakes her head, collapses to her knees. "Answer me, cunt, before I make the decision for you." "F-fill my pussy, please, please," she sobs, whines, "please don't kill me, I'll do anything, please." "I know you will, cunt." Alex kneels behind her sweaty form, slams his cock into her pussy with no preparation, laughing at her rasping moan. "I know." Annette screams voicelessly, her arms and legs duct taped securely. She stares up at them, her eyes pleading. Sean leers, throws in another spade full of dirt. "How's that feel, Mom?" He bends, then tosses another load in. "You like it? Because this is how it's going to go unless you are very, very good-do you understand?" Annette nods frantically, sobbing, lips moving in helpless pleas. "And you're not going to say a word to anyone, right?" Annette shakes her head violently, mouths the words. "And you'll bend the fuck over and serve whenever we tell you to, right?" Annette nods again, her face a sick mask of hopeful submission. "I don't believe you." Another hateful load of dirt hits her face, fills her eyes, nose. "Shit, hand me the phone!" Sean slows his strokes, one hand pushing his mother's head down into the pillows as his cock slides easily in, out, in again, her tired ass compliant. "Hello? Oh, hey Dad!" He shakes his head sharply at the snickering, his eyes dark, warning. "Huh? Oh, yeah, everything's great-Mom?" He gives a sharp little thrust, grinds his hips side to side, "Fine, everything's fine-you want to talk to her? Sure, hang on." He hits mute, grabs Annette by the hair, yanking her back into his lap, impaled on his tool. "You remember, bitch-you remember there's a hole in the ground waiting for you up there." "H-hello?" Annette's voice is strained, scratchy. "I'm so glad to hear your voice, too . . ." she stifles a sob, her eyes fixed on Erik as he kneels in front of her. "No, no, everything-everything is fine, I just . . . I just woke up." She gasps softly as Erik pushes his cock into her bruised pussy, his mouth and hands working her aching breasts. "No, I have a cold. I miss you, too-so much." She squeezes her eyes shut as Alex approaches, his cock bobbing an inch from the mouthpiece. "O-okay, yes, okay. No, we're getting along just fine . . . I-I was wrong, he's really been very good." She licks her lips, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I love you, too." Alex takes the phone, depresses the button, then removes the cord. Grasping her tear-streaked face, he pushes his cock into her unprotesting face, smiles, satisfied as her mouth works him, licking, sucking with no encouragement. "See, Mom?" Alex whispers roughly, his cock swelling, jerking in her ass. "I told you everything would be great if you just do what you're told." He throws his head back, hips jerking up hard as he fills her bowels with his cum. "I knew we'd work everything out-I think we're getting along just fine now."
Review This Story || Email Author: Kallie Thomas