A New Domination Ch. 03

"There is, Phil, but you're going to have to take a very tough line. I'll help you, in fact, I can take the lead in breaking her, then you can take over the control."

He looked at me with hope in his eyes. "What are you proposing?"

"I'll get mum to invite you both to our place for a meal. When you get there, we'll grab her and tie her down, then I'll go to work. Given the way she's behaving, I'll probably have to tie my mother up, too, but that shouldn't be a problem."

It was arranged; mum as very enthusiastic, and Ellen and Phil arrived the following Saturday evening, with Ellen looking as pleased as punch. She imagined that she'd had a big win.

I had not met Ellen before, and she was quite an imposing woman. Tall, about five feet nine inches in three inch heels, with hair so black that it had a slightly blue sheen to it. Its style was similar to that of Dr Lilith Sternin (Bebe Neuwirth), the ex-wife of "Frasier" in the TV series, who she somewhat resembled. Ellen's eyes were deep blue, a generous mouth and an oval, well proportioned face. Her legs were beautifully shaped, leading to a generous bum, below even more generous breasts

I offered them drinks, then engaged in small talk, flattering Ellen, who was very susceptible to flattery and who started to lower her guard. After a short while, I looked at Phil who nodded.

"Okay, time to start," I said. "First of all, Ellen, take all your clothes off."

Her face turned black with rage. "Don't be offensive, you crude little boy. I most certainly will not."

"I see, Ellen ..."

"Mrs Weston to you," she interrupted.

"Be quiet, Ellen and listen to me. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. The easy way, you take your own clothes off. The hard way, Phil and I will do it for you."

"You filthy pig, you animal," she screamed. "I'm leaving here right now."

"I don't think so, Ellen," I replied, grabbing her by the wrists and twisting her arms behind her. "Cuffs, please, Phil."

He clicked handcuffs onto his mother and forced her backwards into a chair, tying her ankles to the chair legs.

"Help," she screamed. "Sally, help me."

"Oh dear," I sighed. "Mother, be sensible," but she moved towards her friend and received the same attention that Ellen had, being soon restrained on a chair.

"Now, Ellen we are going to release first your top half so you can start removing your clothes, then your bottom half so you can complete the job. Once again, we'll give you two options. Either do it yourself, or we will do it for you, and if we need to, we'll cut away every scrap of clothing."

"Bastards. Fucking bastards. I'll see you both in hell."

"Good-oh, Ellen, we'll be waiting for you at the gate. Okay, Phil, get the scissors, we're going to have to ruin her perfectly good clothes."

"No, wait." Our first victory; the first wedge driven into the wall of her defiance.

We removed the cuffs from her wrists and she slowly removed her blouse, then her bra to reveal nicely shaped tits—a little sag but just the right size with dark, crinkled areolas and beautifully shaped nipples. I was intrigued to see that they looked to be engorged; something had set her off, and the room was quite warm.

"Now listen, Ellen, we're going to remove the rest of your restraints and you will take off your skirt and pantyhose. But one false move, you'll be restrained again, and we'll cut everything else off. And I can't guarantee that we'll be any too gentle." She didn't resist; her face was still distorted with anger, but she was now more vulnerable.

"Okay, Ellen, here's the situation. We know you were a member of Blake Sheldon's sex and domination cult and Phil has shown me the various photos and the DVD of your activities there. Your position is simple. Submit yourself to your son to become his sex slave, or risk everything in those photos going public. Your choice."

"No. Ellen, don't. Don't let yourself be degraded." This from my mother.

"Shut up, Sally. Any more from you and I'll gag you." She fell silent.

"Now, Ellen, what do you have to say?"

"I say, do your damndest. No one will take any notice of this filth. I'll claim it's all a fabrication put together by business rivals to discredit me."

"No, that won't wash, Ellen. Those photos are clearly genuine, and you can't claim they aren't of you. We'd be quite prepared to have a photographic expert certify that they haven't been tampered with. And it's a question of how we release them and to whom. Your business rivals would love to see them. Your women's clique would be fascinated. Phil's father would feel justified and would haul you arse back into court so fast your feet wouldn't touch the ground. Then there is the question of your reliability, you business soundness. Suppliers might think twice. Your bankers would hardly be impressed. Customers would have second thoughts. No, Ellen, for you, the easy way out is to simply do what Phil says. I'm sure he wouldn't be harsh with you, he would just need to use you to satisfy his desires."

I stopped and waited for this critique to sink in. She continued to glare at me, but I sensed some hesitation and returned to the offensive. "Just think carefully, Ellen. The public humiliation you would be forced to endure would be never-ending. No one would trust you again, and there will be a growing cloud of gossip, rumour, judgement and scandal. If that's what you want, fine, just go ahead and refuse to have anything to do with Phil, but like it or not, it IS the reality. The alternative is simple. Accept Phil as your master; yes, there will be some private humiliation, but it will never become public and you can go about your business unhindered.

The expression on Phil's mother's face was changing. The outright defiance had been replaced by uncertainty and an internal struggle. Now for the coup de grace.

"Ellen, how would you relish the prospect of being arrested as an accessory after the fact to murder?"

Her eyes sprang open in total amazement, and I heard my mother gasp.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ellen demanded.

"Simple. As you know, Blake Sheldon died when the cult headquarters went up in flames. The police never identified the culprit, but it was thought it might have been the partner of a cult member. I know Phil's father was interrogated, but he gave the cops a convincing story, even though there were a few unanswered questions. For instance, how come you threw your husband out only days after the fire? How come he told Phil that he thought you were having an affair with Sheldon? How come he shouted at you, 'well that fixes Sheldon. You won't be seeing him again'?"

"Now this is all circumstantial, but I suspect the truth is that he confessed to you, and you threw him out. He agreed to a substantial settlement if you kept your mouth shut."

Ellen's face showed a combination of pleading and horror at the thought of her future. She had gone a dreadful grey/green colour and she gasped as she tried to speak. 'Bingo' I thought. 'Got you'.

"Please, I beg you, don't take this any further. I couldn't handle that publicity or stress, and I couldn't face the prospect of gaol time."

"No, quite, but you know the alternative. You become your son's mistress, his sex slave, his sub and you allow him to dominate you. Ellen, I'm going to put something to you. I may be quite wrong, but this isn't an uncommon scenario. I suspect that, deep down, you have a need to find sexual release with someone who can control you and make you obey them. You needed someone to control you in your personal life, but someone who you could trust. You needed to feel safe and secure, to be able to relax and let yourself go and thoroughly enjoy the experience. In other words, you needed someone who would control and regulate your experience of being dominated, but in ways where you would ultimately be safe."

"I guess you discovered that Phil's father didn't meet your needs in the bedroom, hence your relationship with Sheldon. I guess Phil's dad had little interest in you sexually. You couldn't get your needs met, so you sublimated them into a drive towards business success, where you became quite hard nosed, and which turned you into a hard, driven person, able to completely suppress all your sensual desires under a ruthless drive for success—and, probably for money."

"Ellen, this may be your last, your only chance to have your needs met. Your son loves you. He wants to help you, he wants you to realise all your suppressed sexual desires, and he will be a perfect partner. Yes, I know all about the incest taboos, but if you both care about each other and there are no official complaints, then you should be able to have a beautiful relationship. It's your call, Ellen."

Ellen's face changed. She went from looking beaten, defeated to an expression of acceptance, albeit with some hesitation. She looked across at Phil sitting quietly without revealing his anticipation. "Phillip, would you take a risk and release me, please?" Her voice was soft, laden with supplication. He moved to her and undid the cuffs on her wrists and the rope around her ankles. She immediately dropped to the floor, kneeling submissively in front of him. "I have been so wrong, and only now your friend has made me realise what is really important to me and how I can achieve what I most need. Please, master, make me your woman. I need you so much, and I will be so good to you, just let me know that you care so that I can lose myself in you and have you control me for your pleasure and my release."

Phil raised her to her feet and held her close, stroking the silken skin of her back and whispering in her ear. He turned to me, saying, "Simon, I don't know how to thank you for this. I owe you really big time, but I think mum and I will get going now if we may and get home and," here he laughed, "I think the expression is, 'consummate our relationship'."

I had known that since Ellen had revealed herself as a new woman, my mother had been sobbing quietly in the background. Phil and Ellen said their goodbyes to her in a rather subdued way, leaving us alone. I released her bonds, then left the room for a short while to gather my thoughts.

I returned to the lounge and stood looking at my mother with a set expression on my face. She trembled and sobbed, her eyes wide with fear, her face contorted in terror.

"Well, mother, what AM I to do with you after your wholesale betrayal? As this was not ENTIRELY your fault, I shall be lenient, for if it had been, I should have packed my bags and left you to your own devices."

"No, please no, oh god, don't desert me, Simon—I beg you, Sir, please stay with me; punish me in any way you feel I deserve, but please don't go."

"Very well, you treacherous slut, I'm going to flog you like you've never been flogged before, and I hope you will learn your lesson. Do this again, and I'm gone. Understand?"

"Oh yes, Sir, please whip me, flog me, show me how bad, how disloyal I've been."

I pulled my belt out of my jeans and flicked it through the air. "Right, you stupid whore, over the end of the lounge."

My mother bent herself over, her bottom quivering in anticipation of the punishment to come and posed at the perfect height for the purpose. Wrapping the belt round my hand, I struck, hard, drawing first a gasp at the pain, but I continued, lashing her backside as it got progressively redder. Her gasps turned to screams, the pain clearly becoming almost intolerable. Then I stopped briefly and she started to rise.

"Stay where you are—I'm not finished with you yet." I then picked up a long thin leather "cane", flexible and obviously able to inflict severe pain. I lashed out, cutting her across her scarlet bottom, and her scream was harsh and uncontrolled. But so was I, seeing her and her betrayal through a fog of revenge.

More strikes, and suddenly my mother screamed through her agony, "Wombat, oh god, wombat."

I nearly dislocated my shoulder as I threw away the cane at the shriek of her safe word. The fog dispersed, and I saw the woman I loved laying on the ground in a foetal position, tears flooding down her face. I knew then that I had gone too far—the question was, how would she seek to revenge herself on me; I could almost hear police sirens in the distance. And then my world imploded in amazement; I could hardly believe what I heard.

"Oh Sir," she sobbed through her tears, "I am so very sorry. Can you please find it in you to forgive me? Please?"

"Mum .. mum, wh .. what on earth are .. are you t .. talking about?", I stammered. "I've just beaten you half to death and YOU want to apologise?"

"Simon, you don't understand. I needed to be punished; what I did was wrong and totally disloyal. I had to be punished, but I was a coward and used my safe word. I shouldn't; I should have just continued to take my punishment. Please forgive me."

"Only if you forgive me for hurting you so badly."

Her soft brown eyes still glistened with tears, but her smile was wholly loving and accepting, and my heart went out to her.

"I love you, mum, and I always will. Now, I have an instruction for you. Go to your bedroom and lay face down on the bed." She looked puzzled but did as I instructed.

I followed soon after, and spread a soothing cream liberally on her angry red butt, stroking it in to an accompaniment of purrs like a satisfied cat. She turned her head and looked at me. "Thank you, Sir. And will you please move back in with me tonight—I've been getting so lonely."

We returned to how we had been before the "Ellen incident", emphasising a powerful sexual relationship. My mother offered herself to me enthusiastically and with a sense of fun that may have been unusual in a D/s relationship, but it worked for us.

A few weeks later, I received a phone call from Phil, inviting Mum and me to their place for a meal in a week or so. He told me that his relationship with his mother was working well, and that she was developing her submissive streak very strongly. He also told me how impressed she had been with my sense of control and my understanding of her predicament.

I was flattered but intrigued, wondering whether Phil had a "swap" in mind. I caught up with him later and sounded him out. He blushed slightly and confessed that he had been really taken with my mother and was planning a "swap" but only if I agreed.

I laughed. "I've heard of wife swapping, but mother swapping is rather different. Yeah, I think I would rather enjoy getting together with your mother and seeing how far I could take her."

"I don't think you'll have any problems there, Simon—she is one very hot, very responsive lady."

I told mum about this invitation and she responded with a smile. "You know, Simon, Phil is quite transparent. I knew from the beginning that he wanted to get into my panties. My real hesitation is how you will feel about it, Sir?"

"I'll be okay with that, mum—if you're okay with me taking Ellen for a ride. Could be an interesting evening!"

On the Saturday before we set out, my mother presented herself to me for inspection, and I came close to ripping her clothes off and taking her on the spot. She had piled her hair up in a careful coiffure and her makeup was on the verge of slutty, but not over the edge. She wore a white front buttoned blouse with ruffles down the front, a tailored skirt well above the knee, four inch heels with ankle straps and smoky grey seamed stockings. She looked good enough to eat, and I told her so.

"Do you think Phil will be able to resist me?" mum laughed.

"For about five seconds, then he'll turn to putty in your hands."

"Oh, I do hope not. I need at least one thing to stay hard and inviting."

I gave her bottom a playful slap and we left for Ellen and Phil's place. I had never been there before; it was an old style villa, high ceilings, solid brick and an air of comfort and subdued luxury. Phil opened the door and gave a quiet whistle of appreciation when he saw mum. He ushered us into the lounge and we looked around. "Nice place you've got here, Phil," and he nodded in agreement. I noticed a series of photographs of an attractive young woman; "Who's the young lady, Phil?" I asked "My sister, Jodie," he replied, in a rather offhand manner, "she's just turned eighteen and still lives with our father."

Our conversation ceased as Ellen walked into the room, and she took my breath away. Dressed in a sleeveless V neck halter style dress in a soft electric blue fabric, tied behind her neck, it revealed a mouth watering cleavage, and was cut just above her knees. Five inch "fuck me" heels and the sheerest of stockings completed a ravishing ensemble that almost certainly included neither bra nor panties.

"Hello, Sally," she started as they air kissed, and she turned to me. Her voice became sultry and inviting. "Hello Simon. It really is so good to see you again."

Phil had a wide smile, and said, "We thought we'd eat buffet style; there's lots of things to eat and we can enjoy a few drinks. Mother, why don't you sit with Simon on that settee and I'll keep Sally company over here."

The fact that this was totally obvious didn't detract at all from the turn-on I was beginning to experience. And Ellen's luscious perfume was mixed with just an initial hint of female arousal which added to my enjoyment.

She turned to me with a wanton expression and said, "We thought it would be fascinating for me to serve you and for Sally to do the same for Phil. Then we can see what develops."

"Mmm, yes, Ellen, excellent idea," and I could see out of the corner of my eye that Phil was already groping my mother's tits while she fed him with finger food—and she was obviously thoroughly enjoying it.

Ellen offered me a canapé, making sure that her fingers went into my mouth, and I sucked them enthusiastically. She made small noises in the back of her throat, then brought a hand round to caress my face and down behind my ear. More food and more touching, mixed with suggestive comments about how I'd like to put some things in her mouth and be able to touch her where she would really enjoy it.

Ellen laughed, a smoky, sensuous sound, telling me anything would be okay.

I noticed that Phil and my mother had left the room. "Looks like we're alone, Ellen, how about we enjoy each other a little?"

"Yes," she breathed. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want to see that gorgeous body. Strip for me."

Not taking her eyes off me, she reached behind her neck and undid the halter top of her dress. It fell to her waist, revealing her breasts, proud and with almost no sag, two perfect handfuls just waiting to be possessed, the nipples already hardening.

I bent and licked around her left breast, tracing the areola with my tongue and rolling the nipple between my lips. She sighed and pulled my head closer, and when I bit into the engorged nipple, she screamed with the painful pleasure. I transferred my attentions to her right breast, again getting the same response.

"Now lose the dress completely, slut," I demanded, taking a chance on calling her a slut, but she hurried to comply. "Now wipe your finger along your slit and show me the result."

She did this, presenting me with a finger liberally coated in her love juice.

"Now, lick your finger clean and tell me what you can taste."

"Ooh yes, Sir, I can taste my arousal and it makes me want you to fuck me. Please, Sir, please fuck this slut. Please fill me with your swollen shaft and send me into orbit."

"Somewhere more comfortable, I think, Ellen," and she almost dragged me to her bedroom, throwing herself into the middle of her large bed.

"I beg you, Sir, please don't make me wait." I jumped onto the bed beside her, determined to keep her pulsating for a while longer.

I kissed down her body again, biting her nipples as she quivered and shuddered, then rimmed her belly-button before moving down to her smooth, shaved mound. She thrust herself upward, anxiously seeking my mouth, but I licked around her pleasure pit, tormenting her with my tongue.