Windfall

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; THIS STORY HAS A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[Son finds stash of DVD's; his father used his mom to get ahead in business; a battered mom is saved by son, who turns the tables on her tormentor—big time.]

*

It was strictly luck, pure chance. I had always wanted to 'crack a safe' like in the movies, so I bought a stethoscope (ok, a toy one at Toys 'R Us) and listened for the tumblers. Sure enough, on this cheap safe that my dad had at home, the mechanism could be cracked by a five year old. So, the door opened and, bingo, what is this? There were about 50 DVD's, all with labels that had dates and numbers, but nothing else. Well, I gambled that he wouldn't notice my intrusion, so I wrote down the combination for future entry, put in some blank DVD's for about 10 of the real ones, and closed the safe nice and neat.

On that day I was home alone. My father Mal was a local businessman, 49, what little hair he still had grey, with a good physique some 15 years in the distant past. My beautiful mother Sue was only 39, and looked even younger. She was the embodiment of an MILF: five foot two, eyes of blue, blond hair, legs and big boobs too (sorry, I couldn't resist that). What I had not noticed over the years was the fact that she would occasionally sport a black eye, a bloody nose, or a small bandage here or there. I mean I saw them, but they just didn't mean anything. Then I ran the first DVD.

My father introduced the players in this little vignette. Here was Mr. H. from Yokohama, who had a big contract with dad's company. Then, oh no, here was my mom(!) She was wearing her little green house robe...in dad's office. It was as if she had done this before and was somewhat 'underdressed' underneath that robe. The camera had been set on auto-record, but now as usual, he used a remote control to stop it; it resumed in his hands. To re-assure himself, he would always go to the other side of his desk (which the 'guest' never saw), which showed two items every time. One was the case for mom's diaphragm, clearly showing that it was missing and thus doing its job. The other thing was her circle of birth control pills, with the appropriate date clearly empty and presumably at work. Re-assured by this double safety, his camera would now show the 'guest' removing my gorgeous mother's little frock.

Mom's figure was so spectacular (that playmate of the month magazine would be lucky to have her photo layout) that the 'guest' would always pause, gasp, and then come forward to feel her bountiful assets. Most of the 'guests' couldn't get over the fact that this petite woman, only 5'2", could fill a 36D bra to the point of bursting. Seeing her on this DVD, I couldn't believe it either. I must confess I was sorely tempted to grab something soft and yank my crank, but something told me that there was more to this. The fact that throughout this entire production, mom did not smile even once made me certain that she was there completely against her will and needed my help.

Well, whether it was voyeurism, oedipal tension, or just plain lust, I saw not one, or ten, but all 48 DVD's. I finally saw where the black eyes came from: some of the 'guests' with powerful business connections also had a lurid eye for punishment. It was incredibly hard to watch my gorgeous and sensitive mother subjected to repeated slaps to the face for an imaginary transgression that was only part of some fantasy. The most galling part was that her husband, who was supposed to protect her, watched all of it without comment. Indeed, he sometimes suggested the discipline to 'guests' with a taste for rough stuff but no imagination.

One DVD really stood out. Not all companies are run by men, of course. Of the women who run companies, most are older and not exactly MILF fodder. But, there are the occasional 'foxes'. In this one DVD, there was my mom in her habitual green robe, my horrible father, and the 'guest', a foxy brunette, say 43. This babe did not have the 'rack' like my supersexy mother, but she did have fantastic legs. So, the camera was perched over her shoulder. The raven haired 'guest' was seated, in the nude, the camera from behind, showing her folded legs. Her feet were sexy too, a gold ankle bracelet above one foot, the other sporting a hot little tattoo. Her legs folded, one of her beautiful feet bobbed up and down nervously throughout the vignette.

He had put the camera on auto-record and he got behind my wonderful mother. He presented her to the dark haired sexy 'guest', ripping off her green robe and offering her unbelievable charms to this woman. Now you saw the brunette enter the frame, as she leaned forward to cup mom's heavy breasts. The raven haired hussy stared at those jugs in awe, unable to believe that boobs of almost cartoonish size and sex appeal could be real. She pinched mom's nipples, making them softly POP POP into thumb-sized erection, their brown color related to having had me. Seeing my beautiful mother's erect nipples, my mouth literally ached to be put to breast. I secretly vowed that I would get a chance to do just that; one day, I would once again apply lips and tongue to those heavenly nozzles and somehow extract warm, sweet mother's milk. Well, I was not paying attention; I paused the DVD until I snapped out of it.

Per the 'guest's' orders, mom was brought forward like a love doll. He forced mom to climb on the 'guest's' chair so that the brunette hottie would be staring up at mom's drooling tits while having her inviting femininity within easy range. Sure enough, that raven haired slut went down on mom, eliciting an orgasm from my mom. This was the only time that she (mom) appeared to actually enjoy the festivities. This particular DVD ended harmlessly with mom going down on the 'guest'. She ended with a sloppy kiss that must have lasted for four minutes...it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.

If all the DVD's were like that, I wouldn't have been mad at all, only jealous. He would have been sitting atop the greatest collection of adult features in the world. Alas, the other DVD's were both less sexy and much more disturbing.

From the name given, another 'guest' was from a country that was mostly sand. He never disrobed (thank goodness) but he had this little riding crop. My father presented my beautiful mother again. The sheik (I was guessing) leaned forward and tore that damn robe right off of mom. That was fine, so far...I mean I always wanted to rip that damn thing off myself. But, the next action was a willing tormentor, my father, lashing mom's wrists and then using the six foot high coat rack as a means of making her remain suspended by those wrist bindings. The guest's crude hands rubbed, caressed, and brushed across my mother's perfect body. He hefted her breasts, feeling their firmness, perfect shape and ideal form. He patted her flat tummy, stroked her smooth thighs, and then returned to her alluring mound. He put in one, two, and finally three crude fingers into the most important place in the whole world, mom's precious vagina. At that point, I wanted to 'rush the stage' to help my mother, cringing in disgust as she was in this DVD.

As all of this tumult was only a recording, I couldn't do much to help. I had to watch as my dad sat idly by and this perverted 'guest' delighted in lightly whipping my wonderful mother in all the places that he only moments before paid homage to. It was a strange and sick turnabout. By the end of the session, mom's perfect figure was marred by some bite marks, red welts from the whip, and a black eye. I mean, this guy must have had a hugely important contract with dad to allow him to rough up dad's 'old harlot' or 'old trollop', as he called her in the disks.

Besides humiliation like the last disk (DVD), there were disks with real sex. Two of them stood out. The first one featured this white guy, almost a kid my age (I just turned 18.) He later confessed to being 20 and of inheriting the company. Though he was not shy about taking advantage of my mother, to his credit (sic), he thought she was a hooker and not the wife of the owner, drafted into this service. Also to his credit, he didn't beat mom(at least, at first) b abut proceeded to service her big-time.

I had to wonder the psychology of my father who willingly was using my own mother, his own wife, as a cheap slut. For this DVD, he again whipped the camera around the desk briefly to double-check that the diaphragm was out of its case and in place and the pill for that day had been taken. The camera then returned to the action. Once again it was an 'over the shoulder' deal where the male 'guest' was seated, his cock about six inches (much less than my ten inches, but much more than father's three inches.) Again, my heartless dad proffered mom to the 'guest', ripping off her robe to reveal her incredible figure. The young man gestured for her to come forward. Mom's eyes sad and downcast, she stepped forward and was forced onto him, his modest cock no more adequate than her husband's little toy cock at home. The fact that mom was not sufficiently 'enthusiastic' about this young privileged punk's minor six inch asset set him off. He slapped mom; so too did my father to show whose side he was on. What a horrible thing to do. Finally, I could see their joint attention was making mom's eye turn bluish/red. I felt awful and vowed that I would never, ever, look at these recordings as anything but evidence for a future trial. I knew immediately that I had to help mom; that any resolution might appear harsh to anyone who had not seen these recordings.

As for that vignette, it ended with the young punk having dad put mom on his desk; he proceeded to fuck her with amazing ferocity and speed; the fact that he pulled out and all he could tinkle was four pathetic drops was amazing. She didn't need the pill and a diaphragm for THAT dude. When I replayed the DVD another time, with headphones this time, I actually heard mom 'coo' sarcastically to her old man that this young punk had come with twice the spend that he (dad) produced. Wow, what a wimp dad was if this guy's joke-like four droplets put him to shame.

The last DVD in the stack was the lone black guy in all the disks. (There were no black women, if you were wondering.) Once again, mom was presented as a gift, a trophy. Again, the guest sat in the chair, this time in the buff. Mom was brought forward and these big rough black hands massaged her plump breasts, tweaking those pouting nipples until they were rosy and stiff. He patted her rolling tummy, put a huge paw on her treasured mound, and swept down the length of her fantastic legs. He made the gesture to bring her forward. Sure enough, dad almost dragged mom on top of him, her eyes alarmed at the thought of this over-endowed unattractive man having 'union' with her. You could see her head look upward, eyes closed, every part of her clenched for the painful follow-up.

To my amazement, not only did dad sit by idly and let this all happen, he asked the dude if he would like some assistance. The guy nodded, so dad proceeded to lift up (with difficulty) and then lower mom's perfect bum with both his hands. This got faster and faster, dad's face turning red from exhaustion. Finally, the dude put a huge hand up for "halt!" You could tell from his grunt and mom's grimace that he must have shot his load directly inside mom. It was funny; the black dude was assured and re-assured by dad that this 'whore' (mom) was NOT on the pill, did NOT use devices, and would give birth if impregnated. If only he had seen the other side of the desk and those empty containers.

Well, unlike the prior disk, where that young punk left four pathetic droplets in mom's dense and inviting bush, this black dude pumped a lot of seed, all of it inside mom. The excess goo dripped out onto that chair or the carpet. The goo that didn't fall out was, I assume, lodged/embedded deep inside mom's fertile depths; I hoped for once that those protection devices did work.

With him at work, I could easily enter his home safe; I easily made copies of all the disks and left copies in their place. It was essential for law enforcement purposes to have the original disks. Now what?

I got lucky. Mom's old man (my beloved father) was off on some junket for the company in Barbados in six weeks. He didn't take mom because it might be fun for her, I guess. The important thing was I could confront mom.

Me: "Mom, has dad been taking advantage of you over the years, offering you as a fucktoy, a love machine to be caressed, pawed at, hit, slapped, and even beaten?"

Mom: "Of course not...what in the world are you talking about?"

I showed her the DVD copies. She instantly broke down in tears. I came forward and held her. She was literally shaking like an 8.9 temblor. Something happened at some point, though. Her chin rested on my shoulder as she sobbed...then, a paradigm switch. Her head slowly descended to rest on my shoulder. I had been holding a hysterical victim, but now I was hugging someone that I loved.

She broke the hug. We looked in each other's eyes for really the first time. She straightened my mussed up hair. Laughing thru the tears, she kissed me. It was the first kiss from her I had had in ten years and the first one that was not just to say good night.

I looked at mom with a new found understanding and appreciation.

Me: "Mom, he will never exploit you again. In fact, it's going to be OUR turn at bat soon, and the game should be turning around real quickly!"

She hugged me with a desperation that was understandable. She had endured him strictly as a means of continued support for her and college money for me. She figured if she divorced him, she might end up with nothing and me with no degree. So, she had put up with all of that crap. Mom was eager to find out what our little ploy was going to be. She'd find out soon.

Dad's home safe was crude, as I said, but it did have a nice feature. It recorded in a small readout the dates of access. He apparently checked the safe every Monday at 2pm like clockwork. Well, whatever was to happen, it had to be produced while he was still in Barbados and be ready to be hidden in that safe before Monday at 2pm of the week following. This gave us weeks of preparation time. It was on, dude!

He returned, tan, coming in as usual with his rolling luggage. He was surprised that mom was muted in her reception. She usually 'faked it' better than that. Today, Monday, she was stone cold and didn't disguise it. He was surprised to see me there, too. I had turned 18 at the start of this narrative and he had told me I had to be out by 30 days. It was quite a stroke of luck that I had found that cache of DVD's before leaving home. He would have retained his secrets of success--my gorgeous mom would've remained imprisoned in a continuing life of submission and degradation.

Unlike my father who had a cushy life with his business, which he inherited by the way, I for my part had to work two jobs. One was in a warehouse lifting TV and major appliances, the other in another warehouse, handling heavy sacks of wheat and other grain. As a result, I never had to go to a healthclub but still had a great physique. If I had had an inkling of what was going on behind my back, I surely would have come to my beautiful mother's defense. That 'old man' of hers would have been pounded into the ground and then six feet deeper.

Well, the magic hour of 2pm Monday arrived. Talk about just desserts, retribution, and a 'feature presentation.' He was up in his study, where there was really only a bookshelf, swivel chair, that damn safe, and a DVD player. For our part, we were in the basement. I had put a micro camera in his study and we could watch from our big screen TV down there. No kidding, I gave mom a big tub of popcorn, like mine, and a 44 ounce Royal Crown cola (not easy to find, either.) We sat back and let the good times roll, as they say down in the bayou...

SHOWTIME: he checked the DVD's and saw the one from the last week before his trip. Time to review it. The repulsive wimp got into 'position', a roll of paper towels at the ready. Mom put down the popcorn, amazed that she could have even LESS respect for someone than she did for him, but the luridness of this scene...

Well, sure enough, there was mom in her little green robe. For some reason, the camera work seemed odd to him. Anyway, mom's robe came off and she came forward to that white guy of the week seated in the old swivel chair in his office. Funny, this guy seemed a bit more buff than the guy that dad remembered. That 'guest' didn't have huge arms like that, did he? And wait, the guy in this DVD has a cock that sticks far above his lap. It's about the same size, maybe a little bigger, than that black dude from last month. Frantic to understand, he removed the DVD to check the label; sure enough, it had the right date and volume number.

Playing it, he saw his gorgeous wife come forward and be lifted by those amazing biceps and lowered onto the big crown of that cock. Unusual, he thought, that mom didn't cringe or moan in pain. Was that, could it be, she was moaning in pleasure? No, impossible. He noticed that the big white hands were behind mom, lifting and lowering her with ease. The speed increased and mom's head pointed even more skyward, her moans of evident pleasure almost a shriek of ecstasy. As the muscular lover kept her up and down motion going with one powerful hand, his other hand sought out her perfect breasts, tweaking those nipples until they were throbbing. Mom's moans increased further. Dad wasn't sure, but it even sounded like she had had one, two, maybe three all-out orgasms during this recording. He wasn't sure, because he had never given her even one--ever.

The climax came and another change was noted. Mom had been forced into this duty and never felt compelled to kiss her tormentor or his 'guest'. Not surprisingly, these tormentor 'guests' didn't care about affection either. However, clearly in this recording, mom came down with closed eyes and was passionately kissing the 'guest'. Mom pulled back from the kiss, addressing the 'guest' on that chair.

Mom: "God, I love you so much. I just hope that he enjoys watching this disk as much as we enjoyed making it."

Muffled voice: "I think he will. Now go ahead and show the camera what naughty business you've been up to...while HE was away in Barbados."

Mom got on his desk, fell back, spreading her shapely, showgirl quality legs, revealing an incredible creampie dripping, oozing out. The camera bore in, focusing into the depths of her wondrous chamber. There, a huge pool of white thick liquid remained. Of the other goo leaking out, mom deftly used one of his business cards off the desk to squeegee the sperm back into the yawing chasm of her vagina. She used something else off his desk, a pen holder, to gently shove all of that potent seed into the deepest recesses of mom's reproductive depths. This still didn't bother him, at least that much. She WAS on double birth control, with her diaphragm and pills in place. Funny that the camera did not show that. Had he forgotten to re-affirm that with the back desk shot?

To his relief, the camera finally panned around the desk. Now a close-up of the storage trays behind the desk and...OOPS!! The diaphragm container clearly had one perfectly good diaphragm safely stored within it. The circle of birth control pills had all the pills from four weeks back thru to today still in the blister pack. (mom had relied on the diaphragm only to keep her safe during most of those weeks.) It finally percolated to his addled mind...diaphragm in the box, pills unused and in the box...Sue's vagina therefore fertile; from tests in the past (the ones that showed he had a neglible sperm count), she might well be extremely fertile. No protection...none at all! He popped the DVD out. In the basement, mom and I kissed...passionately. It was almost over; fortunately, I had an extra box of Junior Mints I could share with her.