The Therapist's Journey Ch. 06

"I would be punished twice as hard."

"Correct."

A tone of panic entered my voice. "I can explain. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"I know you will, but after your punishment. Naughty disobedient sluts need to be punished. Tell me what you are."

He took the nipple of my other breast in his hand. Again, he squeezed, slowly increasing the pressure, giving this one the same treatment he had the other. Instead of whimpering I answered his question over and over again, finding myself aroused by my own words.

"I am a naughty disobedient slut who needs to be punished. I am a naughty disobedient slut who needs to be punished. I am a naughty disobedient slut who needs to be punished. I am a naughty disobedient slut who needs to be punished."

While I didn't whine the pitiful pained tone of my voice let him know exactly how much it hurt.

"Now you squeeze, harder than I did."

He was right. I needed to learn to obey. I had led him on. In less than twenty-four hours I had broken my promise of sexual obedience. I needed to understand my new place. If I was going to give him control of my sexuality, I had to accept not only his cock in my cunt, but whatever other conditions he imposed. Was there a better example than inflicting pain on myself, pain I deserved, pain I earned? This was the cunt I wanted to be.

I grabbed each nipple, slowly increasing the pressure and pain. The urge to stop, to free my tits, was strong, but I continued. Tears were in my eyes, but I persisted until I exceeded the pain I felt when my son punished me.

I displayed by breasts to my son. The nipples were inflamed. After inspecting them with his eyes, he touched them. I winced in pain and something else

"What happened?" he asked.

"When you touched them it hurt, but I also felt a sudden explosion of desire," indicating with me eyes, "down there."

"Well maybe you can learn to be an obedient slut. Get up, go to the corner, and lean against the wall."

I did so.

"Now your spanking, each cheek, five times. Count with me."

He slapped me with an open hand. He randomly varied which cheek he hit so I could not anticipate where his next blow would land. The slaps were painful and stung, but would only leave me sore for a day or two. There would be no long-term pain or physical damage.

After I had twice counted to five, I felt some disappointment. Although my booty hurt, each slap had also sent a jolt to my cunt, raising my already precipitous level of excitement. I leaned back, hands still on the wall and bumped his erection. I imagined him throwing me on the bed and giving me the savage fucking I craved.

But he was not through. "Stay there. You can touch your breasts, but no other part of your body. I will return soon with your second punishment."

I looked at my breasts. I could see small bruises starting to form. I touched the bruises. They throbbed, as did the need in my cunt. I had been so naive. I thought I could simply declare myself my son's slut and join him in bed. I had to be shown what a depraved slut I could be: that anything could arouse my slut body, whether a sweet fuck, a spanking, deep throating my son in private, or displaying my bare cunt in public.

I looked at my injured tits. Mommy would kiss them and make them better. I kissed them, ever so gently. There was a tingle between my legs. "That felt good," I said to no one in particular. I carefully kissed and licked my sweet boobs, driving up the pressure between my legs.

"Ooooooh...."

The I heard my son's voice. I did not know how long he had been standing there. I felt like a child who needed to explain herself.

"Mommy was making her titties feel better."

He was holding something. It took a second to figure out what it was. It was the choke chain we had used on Magic, a labrador retriever that had passed away several years before. He waved me over and I approached him until my bruised boobies touched his chest. I knew what he wanted. I bowed my head so he could fit the choke chain around my neck. I dropped to all fours, feeling the spikes biting into me. I could feel the juice running down my legs.

He headed to the bathroom. I followed him on all fours, barking occasionally. The shower door was set in a metal frame. He opened the door, told me to stand up, and tied the handle of the chain to the top of the frame. He loosened the choke chain from around my neck, so that it no longer bit into my skin. He told me to lean against the shower frame.

I did so, but even leaning against the wall I was having trouble standing up. My legs were wobbly and I could think of little outside my own arousal. My sex felt like a bowl of Jell-O, any movement, however slight, left it jiggling, sending waves of need through my body. I looked at the mirror and saw the face of lust crazed woman wearing a dog chain. My sex was swollen and wet; my clitoris was peaking outside the folds of my labia. I barely recognized myself.

My son was smearing something in the crack of my ass. He stepped behind me, easily sliding his erection up and down the cleft of my butt. He must have used some kind of lubricant. Meanwhile, his hands assaulted my nipples, twisting and pulling them.

Words poured from my mouth: "Make me your slut, your whore, torture my body, make me hurt, it hurts so good, punish the filthy slut...."

He stepped back, bent me forward, pressed the heel of his hand hard on the area directly above my clit and then, in one long sudden hard motion, slammed his cock into my cunt with enough force to lift me from my feet.

And I came. Sweet mother of god, I came. Howling in joy, I came. I would have tumbled to the floor if he had not held me up.

For the next few minutes, shish-kebabed on his penis, I was able to stand only because his arms were wrapped around my body. Then, strength returning, I was able to stand on my own by again leaning on the shower frame. He pulled out of me and returned to the lubricant, applying it directly to my anus. His finger reached my sphincter. He was not gentle; he brushed aside its resistance with a forceful motion. I shuddered.

"It hurt, Mama?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Do you want me to stop?"

Was he asking me or testing me?

"No. Please no. I need to be punished. Please make Mommy hurt. Mommy's cunt likes it when her baby hurts her."

He pushed two, then three, fingers inside me. No one had ever been in there before. It was tight and the throbbing increased. I found myself both fearing and craving more pain and humiliation. I knew I couldn't be turned into the proper slut without it. I started to push back against his hand.

His fingers left my anus. I looked into the bathroom mirror and saw him applying lubricant to his tool. Again he bent me forward, fitted himself against my anus, and started forward. The pressure was not violent, but it was strong and steady and it ached. My sphincter, inevitably, gave way. He pushed all the way into me in a series of short deliberate motions.

I wailed, but held myself in place. I took short hard breaths to deal with the torment: a technique borrowed from my Lamaze training, classes I had taken to prepare myself for the day the man who was now entering my body had come out. My face was awash in sweat. I could feel my insides quivering as they squeezed down in a fruitless attempt to push the invader out. This is how a stuffed pig must feel. I had never had as much as a finger in my ass, now I had his long hard pole.

After he was fully inside, he held still, allowing time for my rectum to adjust. It still hurt, but I noticed my breathing approaching normal. He picked up on the same signal and started fucking my ass. His thrusts were long, steady, and deep. His hands held me in place. I looked in the mirror and saw the most erotic sight in the world, my gorgeous son and his long hard cock reaming out my ass. I kept staring at the two of us and my cunt reawakened; it's flow soon became copious. He no longer had to hold me in place, as I started to push hard against him when he pushed inside me. I could hear our bodies smacking together. Minutes went by as I started to lose myself in this otherworldly combination of pain and arousal.

"Take me... fuck my ass, fuck mommy's ass you magnificent stud, I love it. Mmm... yesss... YESSS... fuck... oh fuck... FUCK meee. Oh God, fuck my filthy slut ass! Can Mommy play with her cunt? Please let Mommy play with her horny cunt."

I looked in the mirror. He was also looking at us. He nodded his head yes. I buried a hand in my sex and under the influence of my now expert fingers, my labia swelled and my ruttish needs surged.

We soon reached a perfect rhythm. The room was filled by our moans, each lost in a haze of ever increasing sexual pleasure. I used my fingers to try to catch up with him. I wanted to come at the same time. I looked back in the mirror. There I was, a beautiful, accomplished, successful woman. A woman with advanced degrees, a woman with a sense of style, a leader in the community. Then my eyes wandered back to my son. His eyes were closed; his face contorted in raw, unbridled lust. I was not a beautiful, accomplished, successful woman to him. I was just an asshole pleasing his cock. The hours I spent in the gym perfecting my ass didn't even really matter. It was not important that the ass was good, it only mattered that there was an asshole. I was just an asshole pleasing his cock. An always available asshole.

I was the slut I wanted to be.

I could see he was almost there. I was on the cusp. When he exploded, when he dumped his seed into my virgin asshole, I knew I would also tumble over the edge.

"Oh fuck yessssss ... I'm cumming ... in your asshole ... nasty slutty Mommy, whore Mommy...."

His cock exploded and the feeling of his tool twitching inside me, the stream of cum filling my rectum, and his pleasure sent me spinning towards and then over the edge.

"Give my your cum..., ohhhhh...god yessssssssssssssssssssss.....," I screamed.

As he pulled out of me and staggered back, I fell forward. The choke chain bit into my neck. The quick unexpected pain unleashed a series of secondary orgasms. Pain and pleasure simultaneously racked my body, leaving me unable to regain my balance. I was desperately trying to struggle back to my feet, the chain both torturing and pleasuring me, when his strong hands wrapped around my waist and lifted me up. Tremors rolled through my body, which continued to shake and tremble, tears filled my eyes, my chest heaved and I gasped for breath; I could stand only by leaning on my son's chest.

"Was I the first one up there?" he asked.

My head planted against him, I nodded yes.

He took my head in his hands and pulled me to him. He kissed me. My mouth opened to let his tongue inside. We had to break the kiss several times as I was still struggling to breathe, but after each break he pulled me towards him. I mashed myself to him, my breasts squeezed between our bodies. I greeted his tongue with my own, caressing and fondling it.

His penis rested on my chest. A good mommy picks up after her boy, doesn't she.

I took it in my hand. "I'm afraid I've made this dirty. Time for Mommy to clean up."

I dropped to me knees and took his cock in my mouth. I gave it a thorough tongue bath, making sure to remove both the strong scent of my rectum and the scattered flecks of feces.

As I drew a bath and scrubbed my boy I started the story of Theresa and Miles, explaining my instinctive concern about confidentiality. When I was done I asked him to wait for me in bed. I turned on the shower and while it heated up, checked my backside in the mirror. It was rough and inflamed. A few drops of his semen were still dripping out. I showered, carefully cleaned my bottom and breasts, brushed and flossed my teeth, and ended with a thorough treatment with mouthwash. I joined him in bed. He had prepared two cups of hot tea. We drank the tea and then I completed the story. As I did he and I, with increasing intensity, caressed each other's bodies. By the time I was finished he was rock hard and I dripping wet. We looked at the clock. It was after 2:00 A.M.

He rolled me onto my back. Gesturing to my body he said, "So without Theresa, I would not have this?"

"I would like to think I would have come to my senses on my own, but I don't know."

"We're going to be tired tomorrow."

He swung between my legs and entered me. He was now as slow and languid as the ass fuck had been brutal and hard. My son tried an endless variety and combination of motions and speeds, closely monitoring my reactions. I was far greedier, simply absorbing the pleasure he delivered. It was as if I was floating on a country stream, relaxed and without a care in the world, living only for the sensations between my legs. I would come and he would stop for a minute or two, allow me to recover, and then start again. I made no effort to count my orgasms. Awash in sexual joy I lived only for what was happening in the moment. How my son, my lover, was able to postpone his own explosion for so long was and remains beyond me. Finally, spent and exhausted, I knew I could not be carried to the mountain top again.

I locked my legs around my son's hips and dug my fingers into his back. "Mommy's worn out, it's time for you."

He picked up the pace and within a minute I could see his body tense. He let a low grunt from deep within his solar plexus, a sound I would come to know well, jerked forward, and fired his seed within me. He lowered his spent body to my own and I wrapped my arms around him, both of us fighting for breath while my pussy weakly spasmed around his softening cock. We spent the next several minutes kissing, kisses of love and desire, kisses of affection and devotion. Finally he rolled off of me. I looked at the clock. It was 3:00 A.M. We didn't get a lot of sleep that night, but what we did was deep and peaceful.