Bitter Pill Ch 6
In the past year while my plan to own my mother has taken shape I have not been entirely alone. I met a woman last summer who been helping me to prepare for this night. Mom and I would be meeting her later.
Beatings, drugs and sleep deprivation were all tools I planned on using to achieve my goal, but ultimately the victim had to believe that they were helpless. I enjoyed the bondage, but I knew once she fully grasped just how hopeless her situation was I wouldn’t need cuffs to control her.
She was going to learn that subservience to me was her only option if she didn’t want to give up the good life. Maybe less good now that I owned her, but I still felt I could make her accept the new paradigm even if she didn’t love it.
“You know I don’t need to tie you down? You get that, right?” She said nothing but started to stand up from the bed. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Where are you going? You need my permission to leave.”
Now free of her bonds she tried to pull away from me like a bratty child. “I don’t need your permission for anything you fucking psycho!” she huffed.
At that moment the confusion I had been feeling towards her was shoved into a shallow grave. Instead of letting her go I pulled her back down and flipped her over onto my lap so that her heart-shaped ass was dead center. I began to paddle her backside while she swatted at me behind her back. I grabbed her arms and folded them behind her, pinning them easily under my right hand, then resumed paddling with my left while she screamed and cried my name.
“I own you now, Janice! Don’t you get that, yet?”
As I paddled her ass, vivid pink handprints began to merge with each other until both plush globes were bright with color. I felt my swelling cock demanding attention as she struggled in my lap. I stopped spanking her long enough to reach between her legs and help it the rest of the way up against her still slippery cunt lips. She clenched her thighs together around my dick but that only increased my pleasure. It took massive self-control not throw her onto the floor and fuck her again, but this was a teaching moment.
“Apologize. Ask my permission, and I’ll think about letting you piss.” I said as I began to paddle her again. Unbelievably, the violent thrashing up and down on my dick had me close to cuming again.
“OW, OW… God DAMN it, Danny!… You BASTARD!” she cried.
I stopped paddling, grabbed the cuffs from the bed, and fastened her hands behind her back while she stammered and begged me not to. “Oh no no no, don’t lock me up again, Please Danny, PLEASE!”
“Apologize, ask my permission, and I’ll let you piss.“
She let out one more scream of utter frustration.
I stroked her flaming red ass while she quietly contemplated her next words.
“Please Danny,” she mumbled resentfully into the mattress, “May I please use the restroom?”
“And?”
She was silent for another moment while the last shred of her dignity wrestled with her need to pee.
She muttered, “I’m sorry,” so quietly that I barely heard.
“Of course Janice,” I replied and lifted her to a sitting position next to me with her feet over the side of the bed. I helped her to stand. She wasn’t quite steady on her recently bound legs yet so I kept my hands on her hips for a moment while she wobbled.
“I need my hands free, Danny,” she said looking back at me over her shoulder.
Instead of replying I took her shoulders from behind and marched her into her bathroom.
“No, Danny, no! I mean it!” she said when she realized what was happening. “You can’t come in, baby, please!”
I stopped her and spun her around to face me. “What did I say about telling me no?” I demanded. “From now on you will do everything I tell you or you will be punished.”
My fully erect cock now hopped between us like a threat.
“I’m still your MOTHER you little shit!” she blustered sounding on the verge of tears again. “You may NOT come into the bathroom with me!”
I slapped her face. Tears began to flood her shocked eyes. I turned her around and walked her struggling body back to the bed.
“I have to pee, GodDAMMIT!” she yelled. I forced her back onto the bed, this time face down while she shouted and begged. “I said I was sorry!”
Calmly I straddled her bright red ass and removed the cuffs from one hand while the heat radiating from her inflamed skin warmed my dick and inner thighs. Once again I lifted her arms overhead and secured her to the steel headboard while she threw a tantrum underneath me. I reattached the soft velcro cuffs to her knees and then the cuffs to the straps still fastened to each corner of the headboard. I synched them down until her knees were drawn up and out wide again, this time with her ass in the air. She could still raise and lower her ass a little so I did a center tie with a length of rope around her waist and then tied each end to both corners of the steel baseboard. Once done she was fixed like a specimen with her open crotch forced to the bed, unable to move in any direction.
I went to her bathroom and returned with a charcoal grey towel. I folded it and shoved it between her vag and the bed.
She never stopped pleading and negotiating while I worked so I popped the ball gag back in her mouth. She continued talking around it so I picked up the flog brought it down hard on her already reddened ass a few times to remind her it wasn’t appreciated. After that, she just wept quietly.
If this night had shown me anything, it was that my concept of what it would mean to own my mother was incomplete at best. I was starting to see it would be richer and more complicated than I had imagined. And it might not work. Lyn had warned me that this could be the case. Whatever I felt from moment to moment it was imperative that I trust what she had taught me.
I grabbed a dab of lube and started playing with mother’s very exposed asshole. She squealed and jerked a little when I slid my finger in. She gave a frustrated groan when I slid in a second finger and began manipulating her anus a little to see what I was working with.
I intended to fuck her in the ass eventually, but not yet. Her indoctrination required that the experience be shocking enough to dislodge her expectation of normalcy, but not so traumatic that ego death was preferable to life as my slave. My tutor had shown me that anyone will choose obedience over pain in the short term, but ultimately a slave had to choose to be a slave.
Which is why humiliation was such an important piece of the puzzle. I learned that many believe that humiliation is deserved. A submissive will come to feel a great sense of relief to have their shame exposed and not die from it. They will even feel a perverse gratitude towards their master for removing any doubt from their lifelong suspicion that they had never really been in control of their lives after all. For the weak, it is a comfort to be taken.
Which brings me to the feather duster. I first saw something very like this toy in an especially kinky manga that featured a maid being abused by her boss. Prior to her inevitable gang bang, the humiliated wife is forced to dust the furniture with the feather duster in her ass in front of the husband’s admiring coworkers while her cheeks pinked with shame. I loved the absurdity of a butt plug sticking out of her asshole like a feathered tail. The thought of humiliating my own mother like that consumed me for weeks until I was able to locate an actual butt plug just like it through a vendor in Japan. God bless Japan.
When I felt her sphincter muscles let go a little I removed my fingers from her and grabbed my favorite toy. After lubing the radish shaped bulb at the base of my feather duster I began to work the narrow end into her little pink rectum. She protested around the gag as I pushed the conical plug into her. She groaned as her anus stretched to accommodate it’s widest point, then gasped as her rectum accepted it. I pushed it in a little more until the desperation of her groans told me I was putting pressure on her bladder.
I stepped back from the bed and remembered to grin into the camera on the dresser to congratulate future me for realizing at least this part of my vision. I grabbed the phone and took a few more stills of my mom tied face down and ass up with a fancy tail blooming from her asshole. I held the phone to her face so she could see what she looked like to me. She looked. She let out an angry whimper of shame and buried her face in the mattress. Exactly.
I restored the video function and returned the phone to its spot on her dresser. When I was done I said, “I’m going to get myself a drink. Can I make you anything, Janice?”
“Peeeeeez” My mother moaned around her gag. I stood there a moment longer admiring the view as the plume waved like a tree in a storm over her squirming rump. Lyn would be proud of me.
“I put a towel under you, mom. I’m going to give you some time to think about things. When I come back there better be piss on that towel or I will hurt you again.” And with that I left her bedroom. I could hear the garbled sounds of her panicked outrage follow me down the hall and down the stairs as I went to get us those drinks.
I had a piss, grabbed some cold chicken and a beer from the fridge, and turned on the telly in the den to kill some time. If mom was still yelling I couldn’t hear it from here.
After maybe half an hour of Bundesliga highlights, I went to the bar to prepare another surprise for Janice.
I am not really into the hard stuff, but Mother is so I figured phase two of tonight’s entertainment should go smoothly. I poured half a low ball of gin and tonic with a twist of lime the way she likes it, and a small glass of water. To each of these, I stirred in a crushed up tab of Molly. I returned to mother’s bedroom with the drinks on a tray. “Thirsty?” I asked her.
My poor mom turned her head away from me, but I could see she had been crying again. The towel between her legs was soaked with her urine. I stroked her back and said, “Good girl. You did what I asked.”
I set the tray down on the bed and picked up the sodden towel. A round spot had leaked through to the sheets. Fanny would wonder.
“I couldn’t help it.” she said in a little girl’s voice.
“It’s OK, mom. You did what I told you to do.”
The urine was still warm so I guessed she had held out for a while before letting fly. I dumped the sodden towel in the laundry hamper in her closet and went to the bathroom to run warm water onto a hand towel. I returned and cleaned the urine from her puss and thighs.
Then I began to gently work the fancy tail in and out of her arse. Her sphincter resisted the full width of the bulb as I began to pull it out. She made a sort of laughing groan sound as the bulb spread her pretty asshole open. I bobbed the bulb end in and out of her at its fattest point to make her sphincter muscles let go. She cried out as I pushed it back into her. I fucked her ass slowly pushing the handle in a little deeper each time until it was maybe as deep as my cock is long. Her groans sounded like pleasure and shame. I knew then that she could handle me. I would make her love it. My dick leaped at the thought.
Not yet, though. I wanted her to want it, or short of that for her to offer it to me as a demonstration of her subservience. But that would happen later.
I pulled the plug from her rectum and this time it came out with only gentle pressure. For a moment her sphincter gaped invitingly until it remembered what normal was and crinkled shut. I used the damp towel to clean my mother’s asshole like she might have done to me when I was a baby. Who am I kidding? She had a maid do it. She cried quietly while I cleaned her but otherwise endured this humiliation in silence.
I removed the restraints again and waited for her to regain some composure.
“I have water or G&T,” I said when she was sitting up next to me against the headboard rubbing her wrists. She seemed unconcerned about being nude in front of me now, or maybe she was just too exhausted to feel self-conscious anymore. In shock, probably. And probably fucking confused if she was experiencing anything like the roller coaster I was on. How could she not I wondered?
Looking down she spoke in a sullen voice, “Are you done with me? Can I go back to bed now?” I looked at the clock on her bed stand. Ten till eleven. So much time.
I sighed. “Nope. We’re going out.”
She let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her chin to her chest.
I set the tray of drinks on the bed and went to retrieve the phone from where it lay forgotten on the dresser. I brought it back to the bed, sat next to her with my back against the headboard, and began scrolling through the video. It was glorious. Every moment of it. She glanced at it a few times, maybe a little fascinated in spite of her anger and shame at how badly I had used her. I knew I would cherish it.
I sped through it until she was alone in the room with the towel under her and the feather duster was in her ass. In fast motion you could see her nearly constant wriggling like someone obviously trying not to pee which made the feathered tail dance in the air above her ass like a tree in a storm, then she seemed to jerk and suddenly the charcoal gray towel was soaked with an even darker, quickly spreading circle. I rewound that moment and played it back at normal speed. She looked, then looked away from it, but she couldn’t shut out the sound of her own squeals as she tried to hold on. On the phone she let out an angry cry as her pelvis jerked, then a long, low, moan of release as a darkening circle of piss flooded the towel under her.
“Why did you cheat on Dad?” I asked her.
She shot me a wounded look and said, “Really? That’s why you are doing this to me? Raping me? Humiliating me? Making me pregnant? Because I cheated? People cheat, Danny! That’s how the world is!” She was quiet for a few seconds then said, “I’m not on the pill because I stopped seeing Octavio over a year ago. Your father never touches me anymore, so…” she trailed off.
I was relieved that her overseas affair was over. Also happy that Dad wasn’t foisting his tired old carcass upon her anymore, either. I wanted her to myself.
I said, “I don’t care so much that you cheated. I’m not even surprised.”
After a brief silence I asked, “You and dad clearly hate each other so why do you stay with him?”
“Because he won’t let me go,” she replied in a monotone. “First of all, he thinks if he lets me divorce him it makes him look weak. To him, I’m an asset. Property. If I try to leave he has vowed to ruin me. Obviously where you got your control issues from.”
“So it’s about the money,” I replied.
“Oh, and I know he has a mistress. Probably several,” she said defensively.
I happened to know a fair bit about what Dad was getting up to. She didn’t know the half of it.
“And you better believe they aren’t covered in stretch marks,” she added with petulance.
“So we’re clear, mom. I don’t give a shit about what Dad did to you. I care about what you did to me. Yah, he’s a cunt, but you married him. You signed a prenup that basically ends your life if you get caught cheating. I caught you. I have the evidence. You do what I want from now on or you are out on your ass.”
She sat there, deflated, exhausted, and ashamed, trying to think of a way out, knowing it didn’t exist.
After a few minutes of weighted silence, she mumbled, “Goddammit,” under her breath.
I just smiled and placed my hand on her thigh, but inside I was doing backflips! She grabbed the G&T from the tray and took a slug. She made a sour face and looked at me. “Aach. That tastes terrible. What did you put in it?”
“MDMA” I admitted. “It will make you feel better… We’re going to be up for a while.” I paused for a moment more then said, “Drink it.”
“I know what that is. That’s a party drug, right?” She swirled the gin gazing morosely into it for about fifteen or twenty seconds then said, “Fuck it.” and tossed the rest of it back.
“Go get in the shower, mom,” I commanded her. I grabbed the water glass from the tray and tossed it back. She was right. It was a bitter pill.
End of chapter 6
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f70x0z/bitter_pill_chapter_6_momson_non_con_bdsm_mf_mdom