Mother's Helper Ch. 09-18

Matt wondered if she would permit him to do absolutely anything to her, any time and any place. He decided to try something. Sitting on the kitchen counter were a plant mister and a new, eighteen inch flyswatter. He emptied the mister of its tepid water, the kind he'd used on her breasts in his bedroom, and refilled it with very hot water. Returning to the table, he sat and pointed the mister at her breast. "Since you're so hot, let's spray you off." Her eyes wide with shame and fear, he squeezed the mister at the breast nearest him. The searing spray covered the entire breast, making the thin fabric invisible. When the scalding water made contact, she yelled, "Arrgghh!" and jerked up so hard the entire chair left the floor for a second. Yet it was clear the drenched nipple was even larger than before. She was relieved that her discipline had finally begun. Her cunt flooded and she felt the gusset of her panties become damp.

Leaning over in his chair, he grabbed her chin and turned her head so that she faced him. "I will not tolerate it when you make a mess in the kitchen." She squirmed her hips and stared at the table, frozen by the degrading picture she knew she presented. He sprayed the other breast, but this time she didn't yell.

He decided to introduce another tool. He lifted the flyswatter and held it in front of her, grasping her dripping breast in his other hand and squeezing. In a haze, she realized her son, who had already bound, slapped and scalded her breasts by the pool, was now actually going to beat them. Her cunt shuddered. Drops of water fell to her thigh in slow motion. "You will not vacation again without me." Still gripping the breast, he struck the outside. "Thwack!" The sound seemed to echo in the large kitchen. "Mmmm," she sighed, grinding her groin into the chair. "Thwack!" He hit the tender underside.

He stood and positioned himself next to her. He gathered up the hair at the back of her head and pulled so her face tilted up. Her eyes were wide and her saliva-coated lips parted in anticipation. With the swatter raised above his head, poised, he whispered, "Guess what part gets it next?"

When she nodded in abject submission, underscoring their unspoken contract of incestuous sadism and masochism, he struck the engorged nipple head-on. "Uhhhh," she exclaimed, swallowing. She collected herself and looked up at him again, expectant, as if she wanted more. More of something, more of anything. He hit the wet nipple again, with all the force he could muster. He released his grip on her hair but her head remained hanging back.

Matt adjusted the mister to the narrowest, strongest stream, squeezed and held her far breast, extending the flesh through the torn fabric, and positioned the mister in front of her nipple. "From now on, I expect you to obey me promptly." He pressed the trigger, blasting the stressed nipple. This time, she took the pain better, panting and mashing her groin in the wet panties into the chair. He released the breast, adjusted the mister's nozzle to a wider flow and coated the rest of the breast. He raised the flyswatter again, pausing. She nodded her head, her eyes signaling readiness. Roughly, he dragged the plastic wire grid on the head of the flyswatter harshly back and forth across her nipple. "Aieee!" she cried, her excitement skyrocketing.

Matt was emboldened by her docility and excited by the fact that, yet again, they were not in a dark room but in the bright, degrading light of the kitchen. Remembering how crazed she'd become when he'd clamped her nipples in the air conditioner slats, he looked around for more implements. One of the kitchen drawers was not shut properly. Pulling it open, he saw what had prevented closure. Recently, Janice had bought new tea utensils, clamps for squeezing and removing tea bags from cups or mugs. Like the standard design, each had two flat, perforated silver squares facing each other, the size of a tea bag, or two inches square, at the end of scissor-like handles. However, this new design added a hinge below the handle so the angle could be adjusted.

While waiting for the teakettle to come to a boil, he considered that it was time for him to force something up her cunt. He remembered the thin, penis-shaped perfume bottle he'd seen her using outside the club on graduation night, from the same company that manufactured her sun block. He brought it back to the kitchen from her bedroom dresser.

Janice looked surprised when she saw the bottle in his hand. He pulled off her panties and, with the belt from her robe and his own belt, fastened her thighs over the arms of her chair, like he had done with the chaise lounge at poolside, but this time exposing her cleanly shaved pussy. He almost thought her clit was twitching in anticipation. He dipped the slender perfume bottle, which was only an inch in diameter, in a wide jar of skin lotion on the kitchen counter. Suddenly he remembered how she'd fucked her cunt with the cigar tube while lying in the chaise. It was time for something different. He stuck his middle finger into the lotion and positioned it at the ring of her asshole, caressing the dusky skin in a circling motion. She tensed in surprise, wide-eyed, "No Matthew, please, please not that," she begged. Actually, she'd always loved it up the ass and fingered herself there as much as—if not more than—her cunt. But this was her son. She had to hold on to some last vestige of propriety. Wasn't parenting about setting boundaries?

"Be quiet. I know that you shoved the cigar tube up your cunt by the pool, so it's time to open your other hole." He pushed the finger in up to his knuckle. He knew she loved it from the loudness of her response. Involuntarily, she adjusted her hips so that her rear entrance was positioned at a more accessible angle. He drove his finger all the way in and slowly withdrew. The slut mewled when her ass was empty.

He looked into her eyes as he slowly screwed the dripping head of the bottle into her opening. Her eyes bulged from the increased girth and her head snapped back as her dark ring accepted the first inch. She groaned, loud and long. He paused, enjoying the sight of the makeshift dildo's six inches protruding from her chute. After weeks of buildup, she thought, he'd finally taken her ass. He pumped it in another couple of inches.

He made two mugs of tea, inserting two clamps into each mug. Meanwhile, Janice squirmed nonstop on the chair, shamelessly clutching and releasing the perfume bottle, changing the angle and pressure of this new dildo, desperate to cum. Matt brought the mugs to the table and set them down in front of her to cool down a bit, happy to prolong the lurid scene of abasement.

After a few minutes, he squeezed both tea bags with the clamps, removed a clamp from each mug and released the bags. She stared at him, her chest heaving. He reached out, grasped the sodden rip in the nightie and extended the opening in a horizontal line across her chest until the other glistening wet nipple was uncovered. Her hands remained bound at her sides. He adjusted both of the tea utensils so the perforated presses were at right angles to the handles.

"At the pool, your whole breast was heated in the sun block. Now, like you experienced with the air conditioner, it's time to focus on those big nipples." He clasped her right breast, already hard and bulging, and pulled it up and out. Since she was bound to the chair, she couldn't lean forward and the entire breast stretched forward. She shut her eyes and moaned. He closed the very hot plates of the utensil on the nipple and released the breast. She screamed in pain, frenziedly manipulating the dildo as a way to adjust to the pain radiating in her breast. The clamp was even hotter than the two bowls of sun block. He let the heavy utensil drop and heard a sharp intake of her breath from the weight. He rammed the dildo as far up her ass as possible and she emitted an ear-splitting scream of release.

He pulled the dildo almost entirely out and repeated the process with the second tea clamp on her left nipple. She grunted, her head nodding up and down repeatedly as she built toward another climax. Two tea clamps remained, staying hot in the mugs. Matt stroked her labia harshly till the puffy lips swelled. He yanked her head back till she looked him in the eye, realizing with dread the next step. Her body jolted upward in a reaction, trying to escape the clamps. But the new position only helped him. With her body arching backward, her cunt was raised even closer to his hand as he swiftly sank a hot clamp onto each of her pouting lips and drilled the dildo back into her ass.

He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the lurid sight of her reaching an even more violent climax, her body arcing back and forth as if possessed by an electric current, the strong thigh muscles hard as iron, humping the chair, shouting and kicking, the clamps swinging back and forth on her chest, clanking when they knocked into each other, the labia clamps banging into the chair. When she had finished her prolonged cum, she sat limply, her head hanging forward, multiple strings of saliva drooling onto the chair in front of her pussy. He had not expected the intensity of her nipple and ass orgasm.

He sat on the edge of the table and positioned his cock in front of her face, slapping her until she opened her eyes to the looming cock in front of her. She leaned forward and began noisily licking his entire shaft. She laved it, lovingly, drenching it with saliva. Her mouth felt better than all the girls combined who'd given him head.

She switched from licking his beautiful cock to greedily sucking. Matt groaned, his hips squirming on the table edge. He slapped one of the pussy clamps and she groaned around the cock in her throat. He tugged on a clamp, forcing her to deep-throat him. He repeated the action with the other clamp as she yelled in more pain. He stared in amazement at the dark flesh of the big teats, squeezed into the numerous small holes of the clamps' metal plates. God, did she look amazing, crushed nipples poking obscenely through the clamps, her big mouth and lips spread wide over his cockhead.

He pushed and pulled the anal dildo. "Fuck!" she yelled around his cock. He wished he could simultaneously shoot a hot load up her ass. He controlled her sucking by pulling the clamps. He yanked on them rhythmically when he wanted her to deep throat him. She buried his shaft down her throat as her screaming nipples and labia were stretched by the merciless hot metal. Still yanking her nipples, he pushed back her head until his cock popped out of her mouth and spewed his load onto her contorted face as she twisted beneath him, desperately trying to catch and swallow his discharge. When he'd finished, her head fell forward, exhausted. His cum formed a stream sliding off her eyebrows, nose and chin, joining the pool of drool on the chair.

He remembered the camera she'd recently given him as a birthday present. After taking a series of photographs of her limp, dripping form with its metal adornments, he removed the clamps and the dildo and freed her robe from the chair. She moaned as blood re-entered the abused parts. After writing a note in big block letters with a marker pen, he placed it on the table in front of her and left the kitchen.

Matt doubted she'd still visit his bedroom that night, his cock semi-hard even though he'd cum only a couple of minutes previous. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and they went to bed without seeing each other. Not surprisingly, she never came to his room to say goodnight. He figured he had exhausted her. And he wasn't too disappointed. After all, he thought, he'd humiliated her by putting her again into an improvised bondage, clamping her luscious tits, shoving a makeshift dildo up her ass and giving her a mind-bending series of orgasms. Not to mention having a highly satisfying jerk off himself. And giving her ongoing orders in the note when she opened her eyes in the kitchen.

Also, he now had outstandingly obscene and degrading photos of her. Maybe his cousin, Alex, would enjoy seeing them. But the night was not yet finished, and he was to learn a big lesson in terms of Janice's endless capacity and insatiable appetite.

In Chapter Twelve, Matt proves to be handy with a slightly larger household appliance and expands his photography.

Chapter Thirteen —The Hair Blower

The tortured mother had spent an hour in bed tossing under the sheet, tormented by jet lag, thinking about her sadistic son, Matthew. She was astounded at how determined and masterful he had been. It was one thing to make his hot, submissive mother strip naked, jerk his cock or suck his dick; that's what all boys wanted from girls. It was quite another brazenly inventive mind that would fasten a clamp to her baby doll, bind her breasts, crush her frozen nipples inside an air conditioner, immerse her tits in scalding sun block, bind them with shoelaces, spray and spank her nipples, crush them with heated tea clamps, or give her a royal ass-fucking with a perfume bottle. Never before had she experienced so much pain or, as a result, such obliterating orgasms. He never missed a trick. Like the note she had read when she awoke in the kitchen chair. "Do not wash your face or body. Wear the same baby doll and panties."

She had picked up the baby doll and panties from beneath the chair, where they'd been dripped on by a combination of sweat, lotion, saliva, cunt juice and semen. Obediently, she had dragged them onto herself. Disgusted with her abject compliance and the sodden garment, she had trudged upstairs to bed. Despite feeling spent and sore, covered with the sordid lingerie reeking of cum and cunt, her entire body still felt electrified, as if it was ready for more.

After a futile hour in bed, the restless mother went to the kitchen to brew a pot of calming herbal tea. In the kitchen, the diary looked undisturbed in the book holder. She was obsessed with whether or not Matt had violated her privacy by reading it during her vacation.

Once again, she had forgotten to make her weekly entry. She knew she needed more consistency in making entries regularly, but it was so hard to discipline herself. While waiting for the tea to brew, she reviewed the details of her subjugation after dinner. The memories of Matt incapacitating her arms, the mister scorching her nipples, the flyswatter raking across her nipples, the perfume bottle thrust all the way into her ass, the heated nipple and pussy clamps, sucking Matt's delicious cock down to the root, and the string of massive orgasms—all made her hot all over again—especially the memory of licking and sucking his cock until he found release by showering her spread and helpless body with a fountain of his seed.

She sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen on a stool, in the same way she had sat since childhood, the heels of her high slippers hanging on the sides of its horizontal bars. Riffling through the pages, she found two pages stuck together. With difficulty, she peeled them apart, finding sticky white streaks and clumps obliterating the text beneath. She wondered if she'd spilled food there while writing late one night. Curious, she held the book closer to her face and sniffed. The spots had a familiar odor.

Completely absorbed in the spots, she was oblivious of anything else, so she was unaware that Matthew had woken to take a pee and, wearing only his summer robe and pajama pants, padded quietly down the staircase to get a glass of juice. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, surprised to see his mother. Since she was sitting at the side of the island, he had a full view of her short robe, not even reaching midway on her thighs, and the smooth, widespread legs.

Holding the book closer still, she extended the tip of her tongue and touched it to the thickest spot. It tasted sweet, salty and good. She felt restless again, squirming on the stool, her breath uneven. Unable to resist, Janice extended her entire tongue and licked up the entire length of the page. Her chest began heaving as her breathing deepened. Even though she savored the salty taste, she was thirsty from the salt so she raised her tea mug to clear her mouth. She saw Matthew, arms folded across his bare chest, staring at her from the doorway. She jerked, spilling most of the hot tea on her robe, drenching it. "Oh!" she said, unable to move her gaze from his eyes, dying with embarrassment that he'd probably seen her licking the page of a book.

"I didn't mean to startle you, Mother." Matthew entered the kitchen.

"That's okay, Matt—I mean Matthew, I was just absorbed in my book. It's my fault," she said, still staring.

"Absorbed in writing a new recipe, I guess. You made quite a mess there, didn't you? The second mess in one day." He stepped closer, stopping at the end of the island.

"Yes, I'm afraid I did." She set down her mug on the island. For the first time, Janice broke off her stare and looked down at her chest, as if it belonged to another person. The hot tea had soaked through the thin robe. She felt her nipples hardening from the hot liquid.

He came closer, standing in front of her. "Open your robe so the air can get underneath to dry it." Janice sat there, frozen. "Do it!" he said in a low voice.

Remembering the vicious punishments he'd administered earlier, she slowly untied the belt, grabbed the lapels and opened the robe a couple of inches. "All the way," he ordered. As if in slow motion, she spread the robe completely. Her appearance now was similar to how she had looked during dinner. The fabric of her wet baby doll looked as if it wasn't even there, clinging to every inch of her large breasts. They were completely visible. Moreover, her thick nipples had grown and hardened from the hot liquid.

"The baby doll will dry more quickly if you leave it like that," he said, turning the stool so she faced him directly. "Exposed to the air. You look as if you've won 1st prize in a wet T-shirt contest. Like a young girl half your age. Is that what you'd call age appropriate?" She was staring at herself, now aware that her legs were still wide open. She lifted her heels off the sidebars and replaced them on the stool's front bar, closing her legs.

"Open them back to where they were." She lifted her head and stared at him again, eyes wide with fear and excitement. When she remained immobile, he placed a hand on the naked inside of each thigh and pushed her thighs apart, hooking the shoes over the sidebars again, but wider than before. His touch felt like a surge of electricity to her thighs, leading directly to her cunt.

Matthew walked to a drawer, removed a fresh dishtowel, walked back to his mother, and handed it to her. "You'd better wipe yourself." Relieved, she took the towel, folded it a few times and, draping it over herself, patted her chest.

"Not like that," he said. "Firmly." Matthew took the towel out of her hands. Instead of dabbing her chest like Janice did, he rubbed the towel on her, beginning at her neck and stroking firmly the center of her chest. He returned to the neck, but rubbed the towel with more force over her left breast. He repeated the movement down her right breast. When he pulled the towel away, her sore nipples were no longer just hard, they were also extended by a half inch, moderate for Janice.

She just looked at him. Her complexion had deepened. "You're not going to get much rest tonight if you wait for both of those clothes to dry. Don't move." He went to her bathroom and returned with the new hair dryer she'd told him about earlier in the evening. He also held a bag containing attachments.

He plugged the hair dryer into an outlet in the island, turned it on low heat, and aimed it at Janice's face. "Does that feel OK?" She nodded. It felt great. As he lowered his aim to her chest, she started squirming on the stool. When the hot air hit her breasts, she began moaning and wriggling. "Stay still!" he said.