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A Vengeful Mom
First of all, just let me say in confession that I have never been as shocked, humiliated and embarrassed as the day Rhoda Lockhart caught me sucking her young son’s erect cock in his bedroom.
Yes, caught in the act, red faced and naked, with most of his big cock stuffed down my throat.
I didn’t know what to say, even if I could have spoken, with all that hard young cock in my mouth. One moment, I was submissively looking up, keeping eye contact with him and the next his mother’s angry face appeared over his shoulder. Oh my God! What a shock, caught in the act of giving her son a blowjob. She had come home, unexpectantly and very inconveniently.
There was nothing I could say of course and even at the time, my eventual mumbled apology seemed grossly inadequate. (Not Adrian’s cock, I beg to add, that was very adequate)
As I remember it, Adrian beat a hasty retreat out of the room, leaving two mature women face to face, one stark naked and one dressed to the nines.
Rhoda slapped me hard across my face. “You dirty bitch,” she hissed. “How dare you sneak into my house to seduce my son?”
I fumbled around for my panties, but, she had already found them and waved them in my face. “Sexy, blue lace” she declared angrily. “Is this what 40 year old Cougars are wearing these days to seduce young boys?”
I’m actually 39, I nearly said to her, but, wisely, kept that piece of information to myself.
What was I doing messing around with an 18 year old boy? I hear you ask. Well it all started at the 6th form/ parents dance a few weeks ago. It was a rare chance of an evening out in our otherwise quiet village. My husband hates dancing, so I got to go on my own. And no, I do not have a son of that age attending the local secondary school, I just coveted one for my own personal use. Yes, I have a particular weakness for young boys of that age (18), especially good looking ones like Rhoda’s son, Adrian.
Near the end of that evening, I found myself dancing with him. Adrian was holding me ever so tight on the dimly lit dance floor and pushing his solid erect manhood into me at every turn. With every minute passing, I felt any resistance I had just crumbling away. Also, I was transfixed, as his urgent whispers were telling me exactly what he would like to do to me. It seemed he had a thing for older women like me. And, for me in particular.
I am ashamed to say that he swept this 39 year old married woman right off her feet. He got me all hot and bothered. And with his hands starting to stray to my bum, I knew we had better get out of there before we were noticed. At his insistence, we ended up in the dark alley behind the Community Centre with him pulling me by my wrist and me tottering along after him in my high heels.
After a few passionate kisses, I felt my tight fitting summer dress being pulled up around my waist. And, there it stayed, while he knelt to kiss and feel up my bare thighs. A minute later, I gasped, as he took the initiative and just tugged down my lace pink panties.
In no time at all, he had got them all the way off and stuffed them into his pocket. Then, continuing his bold actions, he pushed my feet apart with his shoe, while his eager hand went straight for my pussy. Oh God, the feel of his young fingers on my vagina. I nearly fainted with the sensation of it.
We were still French kissing, frantically, my heart just thudding fast as he worked me good down there. My knees just turned to jelly as this mature married woman surrendered, completely, to a young man’s eager, insistent, probing, fingers. I guess my moans and shudders just encouraged him further.
Then I heard his zip go down and it was my turn to grasp and hold his solid young cock in my hand. Not long afterwards and to my eternal shame, he fucked me right there in that alleyway, up against the community centre wall. A mature married woman having unbridled sex with a 18 year old youth. He went through me twice that night without a word of protest from me. His powers of recovery being,,,,well….just staggering.
How degrading and disgusting, I hear you say and you would be right. What the hell did I think I was doing? Me, a respectable married women, getting well and truly fucked by a randy youth like that?
The truth was I just couldn’t help myself. My sexual needs and desires, wanting satisfaction, overriding any dignity or sense of propriety I possessed. In my defence, I can only say I wasn’t the only mature women in our village having sex with sixth formers at that school. It was by no means a rare event.
However, by the time my husband came to pick me up in the car, I was a fucked out mess; standing there, on my own, in the bus shelter with sperm running down my thighs and my hair all over the place. Wordlessly, I slid into the passenger seat minus my decorum, self-respect and panties. My dress finally pulled back down. Luckily for me, in the darkness, he didn’t notice a thing as we sped back home.
Our little affair just escalated from Escort there. It wasn’t love or anything like that, just sex. Did I seduce that young boy or was I the one who got seduced? It’s debateable. Needless to say, however, we got to know each other very well indeed during our furtive little sessions.
There was no answer to Rhoda’s accusation of course. How could I explain something like that? Sometimes, it’s just best to say nothing. In any case, she knew all about me, as we were neighbours and both in our late thirties.
I grabbed my dress and tried to get past her to the safety of the bathroom, but, she grabbed my hair and pulled me close. “You’re going nowhere, you dirty tramp,” she hissed, menacingly. “You’re not getting away with this so easy.”
As she guided me onto the landing, I heard a motorcycle fire up and head off the driveway. Young Adrian was leaving me to face the music alone. (Oh God, me and my obsession with young me. This time it had got me into real trouble.)
Rhoda was stronger than me and she demonstrated this by shoving me roughly into a storage cupboard next to the bathroom. I heard the key turn in the lock and I knew I was her prisoner until she decided what to do with me.
“You can cool off in there you horny bitch,” she screeched. Something told me I would bitterly regret my little indiscretion in her house.
A minute later, she was on her mobile, phoning friends in her tight-knit group. I could hear every word.
“Mary-Beth? yes it’s me Rhoda…….yes I’m fine. Actually, I’d like you to come over and help me deal with a little problem that’s cropped up. No, nothing to be worried about, but, I need the three of us together over here…….Yes, right now……..Will you ring Joanne and come over together. Then I’ll explain things to you both. Oh and bring your video camera. I need to borrow it.”
These three women I knew. They were a group within a group; members of clubs and societies, like me and some of other females in the upmarket village of Upper Middleton near the City of Cambridge. But these particular 3 kept themselves apart and seemed to resist attempts from other ladies to join their exclusive trio.
I heard her visitors ring the bell and the distant murmur of female voices. My guess was that Rhoda was telling her friends about what had happened and who she had imprisoned in her upstairs cupboard. These two knew me of course, it wasn’t that big a village and they both lived in the next street to me. How I wished that I had managed to get some clothes back on and regain some decorum, particularly now, that I was about to be presented to other people.
But, ten minutes later, when the cupboard door swung open, I remained red-faced and naked, as three pairs of women’s disapproving eyes bore into me.
“Well, if it isn’t Kath Riley,” said Mary- Beth Taylor shaking her head. “Goodness me.”
Just behind her, stood Joanne Clarke, with arms folded and a disgusted expression on her face. Ominously, not saying a word.
“Get her out of there,” barked Rhoda and her two willing helpers grabbed me and frog-marched me down the stairs into the lounge.
“Tie her up, like we agreed,” she added. And, quickly and efficiently, her helpers did just that, making sure my wrists were secured behind my back. Then, I was manoeuvred across a low back sofa, so that my backside was pushed up and exposed to whatever they had in mind for me.
First, they made me confess as to what I had been up to with Adrian. I had to spill out all the sexual details as to how and when it happened and my shameful part in it.
Mary-Beth operated her video camera and I groaned inwardly, as I realised that now there would be video evidence of my indiscretions, as well as suffering punishments at their hands.
I guessed what was coming, when Rhoda produced a large hair brush and smacked the back of it viciously across my bum.
Thwack!
“Ooow” I screamed. “Rhoda what are you doing?”
“Giving a dirty bitch some deserved punishment,” she retorted. “And believe me there is a lot more of this to come.”
I groaned in anguish. This was not going to be pleasant
“Umm, nice arse,” commented Joanne Clarke as she ran her hands over my flesh. “Do you mind if I………”
“Later” hissed Rhoda, as she swished another smack viciously down on her quivering target.
Thwack!
I yelled in protest as a sharp pain bit in.
“Gag her” instructed Rhonda. “We don’t want the bitch screaming the place down.”
Mary-Beth reacted quickly and jammed what looked like my own skimpy panties into my mouth. I could smell my own sex juices on them and remembered young Adrian giving me a good fingering there, earlier on.
“Now that I’ve got your attention, Cunt, I’m going to tell you what we have in mind. First we are going to give you a damn good thrashing to let you know what new social position you are going to occupy from now on. Then, we are going to give you a chance to make atonement for your disgraceful behaviour.”
They Escort Bayan laid into me good and proper after that, first Rhoda, then Mary-Beth and afterwards a lighter go from Joanne, when she got her turn. I have to tell you that the pain was indescribable. I have never suffered such agony in my life as the pain of that large hairbrush smacking down hard on my poor bare bottom. These women, my neighbours, who I once thought of as possible friends, showed no mercy as my stifled wails and pleadings got muffled by the makeshift gag.
“Had enough, bitch?” enquired Rhoda, as she pulled the panties out of my mouth.
“Oh yes…..yes,” I said quickly. “Please, I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am…….only not more of that, please.”
“Damn right, you’ll do anything…..because, from now on we own you, bitch. You’ll do everything we say. Have you got that?” She grabbed a handful of hair to reinforce the point and twisted it savagely. “Oww…..yes… anything, please….”
“Because, Mrs Riley, if we don’t get your complete obedience, you will get another extensive session with the hairbrush…..and worse.”
“And also, because of the recording we have made, the full details of your little indiscretion this afternoon will be circulated to everyone in the village, plus your husband, friends and relatives. Even the Police, she yelled, because my son, in case you have forgotten, is still at school.”
Those last 4 words were yelled in my ear and I winced at the pain and discomfort. My left ear took ages to return to normal.
I gulped as I took in the full implications of what she was saying. Jesus! I had really messed up big time? And Rhoda was the type of woman who meant what she said.
“You wouldn’t want that Kath……now would you?”
“No No……you’re right,” I spluttered, knowing that these women had me completely under their control.”
Joanne Clarke gave me my first instruction. “Spread your knees, bitch,” she ordered.
Without hesitation I did that, the pain of the stinging slaps still throbbing in my bottom.
Surprisingly, she smoothed some cream over my burning bum cheeks, rubbing it in and marginally easing the burning agony there. But her hand didn’t stop there; it traversed down between my thighs and lightly made contact with my vagina.
“Oh,” I jumped in surprise, but wisely, did not emit a protest.
She continued to explore; her fingers teasing apart the lips of my pussy and delving inside.
“She’s wet,” she announced; ” sopping in fact.”
I must have gone beetroot with shame. A fact not unnoticed by the others.
“A smacking sometimes does that for some,” nodded Mary-Beth wisely. “She must be one of those.”
“Here let me have a feel” she added.
So pushing Joanne out of the way she stuck two stubby fingers inside. “Oh yes, she’s all worked up, I gotta go get my strap-on.”
Red faced and clearly excited, Mary-Beth was on her way out of the front door in seconds.
“Get the big black one,” shouted Rhoda after her.
“You betcha,” came the reply.
“She won’t be long, slut,” whispered Rhoda, in my ear and I remembered she lived only 3 houses away.
She was right, I didn’t have long to wait and soon Mary-Beth came bustling back with a carrier bag full of goodies. She tipped it out onto a nearby coffee table and I could see that there was an impressive array of sexual toys and devices, including a large black dildo.
Mary-Beth lost no time in tying it tightly around herself, so it was ready for business. I could tell she was very excited at the prospect of what she was about to do.
“Get her in position” she croaked.
My bum was already pushed up and facing her, so all the others had to do was spread my legs and get my pussy at the right angle for penetration.
Once again the camera was turned on.
“Give it to her good, Mary-Beth” the others shouted, but, a quick glance over my shoulder at her determined flushed face told me she needed no additional encouragement.
She manoeuvred the black beast to the wet mouth of my pussy and pushed it all the way in. Meanwhile, I gasped at what I had to take. It was big, very big. “Oh Lordy” I cried.
Then, Mary-Beth thrust it hard all the way in. She was obviously adept in using the device. I shuddered, as she slowly withdrew the black monster, and then gasped as it was rammed back into me. On and on she hammered that thing into my squelching pussy, while the others watched and made crude remarks. Luckily, the smacking had got me lubricated enough to take it.
And by God, did she give it to me. I lost count of time as I got well and truly fucked by that massive thing.
I was covered in perspiration as, finally, Mary-Beth brought me to orgasm with yet another violent penetration.
“Oh, Oh, Oh,” I moaned as a delicious tidal wave washed through my loins.
“Mary-Beth, you’ve done the bitch,” squeaked Joanne in a congratulatory tone.
“It’s more than the cunt deserves,” grumbled Rhoda. “That Bayan Escort was some damn orgasm.”
“Let me do her now,” asked Joanne eagerly.
“Sure, why not” agreed Rhoda,” we’ll go get some coffee while you go at her.”
So I was left alone with Joanne, as she quickly fastened on a different, less monstrous, dildo.
With the others out of the room, Joanne clearly had her own ideas. Her soft hands were all over my bare bum and thighs. I’ve fancied you for ages”, she whispered in confession. “Today has been so lucky for me”.
She knelt down and started to kiss my bare flesh. “Oh Yummy” she drooled, “you’ve got such a delightful body, Kath Riley, just you wait until I get you alone; I want to kiss every inch of you, we’ll have such a good time. And, I promise I won’t be as rough as those two.”
Then she started with the dildo. True to her word it wasn’t as rough or vindictive. But, her chosen implement soon had the measure of me and in no time at all she had me shaking and shuddering into a second climax.
Rhoda came back into the room just in time to witness it. “My, oh my, Kath dear, you sure climax easy” she said in wonder. “We heard you in the kitchen.”
But, I knew different. It was being held prisoner, it was having my hands tied, it was the smacking with the hair brush, it was the pain, shame and humiliation of it all……that’s what was doing it. I knew that because 12 years with my husband and orgasms were a very rare thing; very rare indeed. But, at the hands of these women, I had had two in no time at all.
Finally, after Rhoda had given me dire warnings as to my future conduct, they let me go, and, after dressing upstairs, I sat with my head in my hands on the toilet seat absolutely shattered and hardly able to move. Half an hour later, still weak at the knees, I pulled myself together and was able to stagger back to the sanctuary of my own house, so glad to be there.
I wasn’t free, of course, I knew that. Rhoda had made that very clear. She had enough on me to keep me firmly under her control. And it wasn’t long before she was exercising that authority. I had barely made it out of the shower when the phone rang. It was her, Rhoda.
“We have decided that we want you to clean all three of our houses tomorrow,” she said in that icy cold voice that I was getting to dread. “In fact, every Thursday from now on you will clean our houses from top to bottom. And, you will do it thoroughly and to our complete satisfaction, because, if not, the large hairbrush will be brought out and used on you. Do I make myself clear; do you understand?”
“Yes, Rhoda,” I said, in miserable defeat.
So, I got up early the next day and set about following Rhonda’s directive. I started at Mary-Beth’s house to the amazement of her husband who at 7.00 a.m. was just leaving for work. I thought he might wonder what I was doing there, but, Mary-Beth had apparently explained to him that I was hard-up and needing some part-time work. I spent hours there, hovering, dusting, washing up, cleaning bathrooms and toilets and making sure that every nook and cranny was attended to. Then, I was out cutting the lawn and sweeping up. By the time Mary-Beth had signed me off, it was nearly lunchtime.
But, nothing to eat for me, as I headed across to Rhoda’s big house: Another four hours later, I had been through her house from top to bottom and out before her son arrived home from school. (She made me promise to have nothing more to do with him.)
Then, it was over to Joanne’s house for a similar work out. Her house, fortunately, was spiffing clean and I only had to go through the motions as I dashed around. Ten hours after I started, I had finished and I went back exhausted to my own house, knowing that I hadn’t even touched it yet.
The next day, I got a phone call from the Vicar, thanking me for volunteering to work for half a day a week in the local Church. “Mrs Lockhart said you were keen to help,” he said.
“Oh,” I said, getting over the shock of it,…….”that’s right. When would you want me?”
“How about this afternoon,” he said, cheerfully.
That afternoon, I was on my knees scrubbing the stone floor around the alter, when the Vicar, an elderly gent with silver hair, motioned me to go across to the stone stairway in the south-east corner of the Church. “We’ll go up here,” he said, “there’s something I want to show you.”
He stood back and let me go first up the stone steps. I was wearing my oldest summer dress for working purposes, but, it was a short one. As we went up the steep spiral steps, I could sense he was having a real good look up my skirt. I glanced back over my shoulder to confirm my suspicions and yes, he was staring straight up there. The dirty old sod.
I remember thinking that he must be about 60. I was getting embarrassed, I clutched my dress in tighter for modesty purposes.
“Don’t do that Mrs Riley,” he growled in irritation, “I am enjoying looking up your dress.”
I opened my mouth and gasped at his effrontery. I was so shocked that I let my dress fall free.
“You have a lovely pair of legs, my dear,” he said. “I admire them every time you come to Church with your husband. But I’ve never had a really close look at them until today.”
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