This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+ years old. This story contains themes of Incest, BDSM, Dominance and submission, and bisexuality. If those subjects are a turn off, just move on to another story. If you have read all six previous chapters, thank you. Favorites, Comments and Ratings are appreciated.
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"I have a list of demands, and these are all negotiable. But, then again, you are not any position to negotiate. And I'm warning you now, your ass is going to get fucked, Worm!" My mother was right. My father was at a disadvantage. He was naked, on his hands and knees on the dining room table. His wrists and ankles were bound by Velcro cuffs with D-rings. And those were tied with cotton rope to the four legs of the table. I had improvised the set up quickly, on orders from my Mistress, my Mom. Mom continued, "All of these things are going to happen. The order in which they happen is negotiable. Some of these things will happen this afternoon. Some of these things will happen over the next few months and even years, but they will be agreed to today. Do you understand, Worm?"
My father looked at her with an expression of confusion and anger, bordering on defiance. "No, Mommy. I don't understand."
My mother nodded at me. I was dressed in a Fantasy Warrior get-up, like off the cover of a Romance Novel. I had on modified tartan kilt. It was armored in front and back with a rough leather loincloth and a chain-mail "V" at the crotch in front. I looked like an extra from a cross between Braveheart and Conan the Barbarian. The warrior's kilt was belted high on my waist with a wide leather belt. Mistress explained that she wanted me to be able to be fully erect without having to raise my belt, and without tenting the kilt. That's also why I had on a black, spandex thong underneath the kilt.. I was also wearing leather bracers a my wrists, and a black Executioner's Hood. I could see through the hood, but it completely hid my face. It's simple, classic, and very ominous looking. Mistress instructed me to never speak when wearing the hood, and to never don or remove the hood where anyone could see me. I am supposed to remain anonymous, even though it's obvious "The Executioner" is me. My mother's idea of what Bondage and Discipline should be about is a lot more costumed, ritualized, darker and scarier than mine. I looked damned scary.
I also felt like I needed to work on my abs. I'm in good shape. I'm 6'2" tall and 21 years old. I have broad shoulders, muscular arms and legs, and a flat, toned stomach. But this outfit deserves bigger guns and six pack abs. I'm going to have to put in some serious gym time before I really fill out this outfit the way it demands, and the way my Mistress deserves. If I'm going to be my Mistress's Henchman and Executioner, then she deserves me to be the best that I can be.
I drew a flogging paddle from a scabbard on my belt, like a sword. I looked at my Mistress, and she held up two fingers, so that both my father and I could see them, indicating two swats. I swung the paddle and connected at the line between my father's upper thighs and his ass. Crack!
"Hrnf!" My father grunted. "Thank you, Mistress, may I have one more?" My mother nodded, and I paddled Red's ass again. "Red" is my father's submissive nickname. I had to be very careful to not hit a butt plug with a "Pig's Tail," sticking out of his ass crack. I think Mistress intended this as a form of humiliation. But I also think my mother has a fetish for Beast-Men. The one time I saw my mother cum the hardest, multiple times, was when she was being ravaged by "Foxxy Redd," a fantasy role-play character of my father's, who has pointed ears, long canine-like teeth, and an amazingly lifelike fox-tail! Also, I was also wearing a butt-plug with a long horse-tail! I was wearing mine, under my kilt, like a badge of honor. It went with my submissive name, "Pony-Boy." And, Mistress has called me, "Stud," several times since giving me my tail. I'm eager to prove to her just how much of a stud I can be!
"Thank you, Mistress. Is that all for now?" The Red Pig asked.
"It will be, if you can tell me why you received this correction," my mother said.
"I was sassing my Mistress?" Red was guessing, he didn't know. I readied myself to smack him again.
"And...?" Mistress prompted.
A light dawned for my father, "I called you, 'Mommy,' Mistress."
"And like I told you, your Mommy is not here. Marjorie is gone. Margie won't help you. Only your Mistress is here. Your Dark Mistress, your Mistress Blue, or your Dark Blue Mistress. Call me anything else, and you risk being disciplined."
And she was right. My mother had been my sexual submissive for less than a year. Today, I had switched, and at least for now, offered Blue (that's her sexual submissive name) my own service and submission. We switched roles in an instant! I thought Mom was going to be making a power play with my father. And I wanted to support whatever direction she took that fully. I didn't think that was possible, if she was constantly second-guessing herself, asking me, "If that's alright with you, Master?" Mom needed to know that I trust her judgement implicitly. So I made her my Mistress too! It was a spur of the moment choice for me, but my mother was holding me to that promise.
What I didn't know was just how prepared Blue was to take on the role of Dominatrix! She had been secretly shopping online BDSM stores, and had a large, purple Suitcase of Wonders hidden in her closet. In it are toys and tools I had never seen before, and that included the Warrior/Executioner get up I was given to wear.
But my costume wasn't half as intimidating as the Dark Blue Mistress! She was wearing thigh-high, black, Pirate Boots that cuff at the top in a bold, cherry-red accent color. They have a five inch, spiked heel, with a two inch platform at the sole! The sole, heel, and platform of the boots are also cherry red. She was wearing a black, leather corset, that cinches her 24 inch waist down to 22 or maybe even 20 inches! That accentuates her 34C breasts and her full, round 34 inch hips and ass. The corset cups her breasts, but doesn't cover them, and has a halter that comes up and buckles behind her neck. Her breasts and pussy were covered with a cherry-red polyvinyl, leatherette bikini, a triangle top, and a tiny thong bottom that barely covers her bare shaven pussy. The final piece of her ensemble was a red leather domino mask. It made her look fierce, and über-sexy, like a superhero or supervillain.
"Worm! I have a list of disciplines, corrections, and lifestyle changes that we are going to settle today."
"Yes, Mistress."
"First, there's Jillian. How long has she been protecting you from Nick?" My mother and I had just met Jillian the night before. I thought she was a role-play character of my father's, just my father in drag. Although, he was stunningly graceful, feminine and sexy. My mother convinced me that Jillian is actually a separate personality, that my father has multiple personalities, or Dissociative Identity Disorder.
"I--I don't know what you mean, Mistress." My father may have been genuinely confused, but my mother wasn't having any of that.
My mother signaled me with one finger. Crack! The paddle snapped across Red's ass.
"Ah! Thank you, Mistress. But I--"
The Dark Mistress cut him off, "How long have you been losing days to Jillian? How long since you started waking up groggy and confused, feeling hurt and not knowing how you got the bruises, Piggie-Boy?"
"I don't know. About 20 years, maybe more. I didn't know it was Jillian until 15 or 16 years ago. I didn't know where the time was going. I thought I was just blanking out the pain."
The Dark Mistress strode over to my father. It was amazing how confidently she walked in those towering heels, when she had been tottering in heels shorter than those the day before. I chalked it up to attitude, and a sense of purpose. She held up the palm of her hand to me and made a small circular motion. This indicated I should caress the Piggie-Boy with the paddle, soothe him, but also remind him what was to come.
My father gasped.
The Dark Mistress picked up a pair of white panties that she had made sure had been permeated with her juices and her scent. She held them in front of my father's face. "You may smell them." My father's nose was instantly buried in the fabric.
"You love my dirty panties."
"Yes, Mistress. I love the smell of you."
"You used to steal Marjorie's panties, and take them to work with you. Why? Would you wear them?"
"No. I would smell them. It reminded me of my wife, and how much I love her."
The Dark Mistress began to caress her subbie with the panties, across his face, shoulders, and back. "And what else would you do with the panties, Worm?"
"Just that. I liked to smell them."
Mistress held up one finger, followed by a pinching sign. I gave our subbie a small swat.
"Don't lie to me, Worm, or you'll get paddled. I know what you did. Tell me!"
My father looked over his shoulder at my mother in a mask and then me in my dark hood. He swallowed. "I would jack-off, masturbate in Marjorie's panties. I would sniff them, and rub the silky material on my boner until I would cum."
My mother took the panties and stroked my father's cock with them. He was very excited, and wearing a silicone cock-ring. "Good! Doesn't telling your Mistress the truth feel good, subbie?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"And what would you think about when you would masturbate?"
"All the perverted things I wanted to do with Marjorie."
"Like..."
"Fuck her from behind. Or have her on top. Or fuck your titties, Mommy." I prepared to swat my father, but Mistress shook her head, "No." She was stroking my father faster.
