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Subject: {ASSM} The Downward Spirol Chap 3 (by MOF)
Date: Sat, 29 Mar 2003 00:10:06 -0500
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Chapter 3 in the Smith family saga. If you haven't read chapters 1 and 2
you might want to read them first.
The story is Mmff, humil, spank, oral, incest and some other thing that
I've forgotten to mention. So if that's your cup of tea, enjoy. If not,
move on.
As always, the usual caveats apply and I'd like to hear what you think.
MOF
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<1st attachment, "The Downward Spirol - 3.doc" begin>
Chapter 3
by Eric Smith
On the way home from university, Megan had dropped me off at my
friend's house so I could pick up my car. I spent some time with
my friend and then proceeded home. Our neighborhood is made up
of older homes that were built in the days when front porches
were in vogue. When I arrived home I found mom sitting on ours.
She rose to meet me and we hugged and exchanged greetings. She
was a little subdued and I asked her if anything was thematter.
"Nothing's the matter, Eric," she replied, "but there are some
things we must talk about before you go in the house. Let's sit
on the porch for a bit."
Actually, she talked and I listened. I listened with ever
growing amazement.
"Eric, first I want to tell you about David and me," she began.
" We have what you might call an unusual relationship. It's
normal ninety percent of the time, I guess, but sometimes we do
things that some people might consider... well... unusual or even
perverted."
"Why are you telling me this, mom? This isn't my affair. I
don't want to hear this," I responded.
"Be quiet and listen, Eric. This does concern you and you must
listen carefully. David and I sometimes do what I guess you
might call S & M but I'm not sure that's the right phrase.
Sometimes David whips me or spanks me and I allow him to do it
for a lot of reasons I don't fully understand but I suppose that
they're mostly erotic and have to do with sex. You must
understand, David, that everything is one hundred percent
consensual.'
"OK," I replied, "but why do I have to know about this."
"Because Megan has learned about it. She has decided to
participate. She hasn't fully realized the degree of her
participation, yet, but she is going to be an active part of our
so called games."
Now my mother had my attention. I must admit that when she said
what she did I got a feeling inside me that wasn't necessarily
bad. I don't know if I could have admitted it just then but I
was excited about the idea of my mother, sister and David
participating in a strange kind of menage de trois.
"David, do you think you can accept this," she asked me.
'Well, yea, I guess I can. This is strange, mom. Where's this
going?"
"David and Megan are in the kitchen," she said. "I want you to
go in and see them but please do it quietly. Don't disturb them.
Then maybe you can begin to figure out where this is all going
and your part in it."
Wow! I thought. With increasing excitement I entered the house.
It was a warm day and the air conditioner was on so I didn't hear
the noise from inside until I opened the front door. What I
heard put my heart in my throat. The sounds were something
striking naked flesh and piteous sobbing. I moved quickly to the
kitchen. David was standing by the kitchen table with what
appeared to be a cane in his hand. Stretched over the table was
my sister, stark naked and with a terribly marked bottom. She
was facing away from me and wasn't aware of my presence. David
saw me, though, put his finger to his lips. Then he told my
sobbing sister that she was to receive three more strokes and
that there was another person present. He delivered another blow
with the cane. I could see the pain wrack through her. Her
entire body shook as she sobbed. Each application of the cane
had left a welt on Megan's poor bottom. Many of them had turned
blue and purple and had developed additional colorful splotches.
As she sobbed she instinctively turned her hips away from David
and his cane.
David stepped next to me and whispered in my ear, "You're next."
Then he handed me the cane.
What did he mean I was next? Next to beat my sister with the
cane? Next to be caned? Both? I looked at him for direction
and he looked at the cane I was holding and then nodded toward
Megan's bottom. That much was clear. I was to deliver the last
two blows. With my heart in my throat and, I'm ashamed to admit,
with my prick rock hard, I positioned myself to administer the
cane. I drew it back as I had seen David do just a minute before
and ripped the cane into Megan's bottom. She arched her back and
raised her head up with a wrenching sob. Then laid flat on the
table shaking and sobbing uncontrollably. One of her legs bent
at the knee and she raised her foot up toward her bottom as if to
ward off the next blow but then, after a moment, her foot
returned to the floor. The whole scene raised my sexual
excitement to a fevered pitch. I don't believe that anything is
as erotically stimulating as inflicting that kind of pain on a
person. Particularly when you know that the person is in the
kind of agony that Megan was enduring and when you know that she
is enduring it voluntarily.
I looked at David and he nodded. The last blow was mine to
inflict. I was seriously afraid that I was going to cum in my
pants. I did not hold back. I knew that the harder I struck my
sister the greater her reaction would be. The louder she'd cry.
The more her naked body would twist on the table. There was no
mercy in me. I stepped into the stroke and delivered it hard to
the bottom of her cheeks. I was not disappointed.
David and I stood for a couple minutes watching Megan as she
sobbed and tried to regain control of herself. He stepped back
toward me and took the cane and once again whispered in my ear,
"Don't forget. You're next."
There was no doubt, now. In the very near future it was going to
be my naked body that would be stretched over that table trying
to gain control of my crying. And I knew I'd be crying. There
is no way that I could stand that kind of torture. I was
anticipating it. I was anticipating it in fear and horror and
excitement. Excitement? I don't know why. I'll never
understand why. But for some unexplainable reason I wanted my
ass to look every bit as bad as my sister's. How's that for
sibling rivalry?
Megan was beginning to regain some control and David touched my
shoulder and nodded toward her head as if to say, "Why don't you
go console her."
I walked around the table and squatted down and looked in her
teary eyes. Her face was ravaged and beautiful. I told her she
was beautiful and meant it. I told her I was next thinking that
might make her feel better. Then I kissed her wet cheeks and
returned to David's side. The wait for my own torture was
beginning to wear on me.
Some more time passed as the two of us gazed on my suffering
sister. I gazed in admiration for her and trepidation for
myself. I believe that David gazed in admiration for Megan and
anticipation of my fate. During this time I wondered about our
mother who was, I believed, still sitting on our front porch.
She evidently had some idea of what was happening in her kitchen.
I supposed that she didn't want to be part of our initiation
into her way of life. Or maybe this was the way David wanted it.
Just the three of us. Or four of us if you counted the cane.
Finally David instructed Megan to rise. She was wobbly at first
and I went to help her. Then David took over. God, did he take
over! As I stood and watched, he kissed her lightly on the lips.
He began caressing her cunt. Megan ground her hips against his
hand, moaning softly. She was actually rising toward an orgasm
as I watched. The movement of her body hungered for it. She was
unbelievably sexy. If given the chance she would have climaxed
while standing naked in the middle of our kitchen floor. But she
wasn't given the chance.
"Kneel." Ordered David in his quiet voice. As he said it he
pressed down gently on Megan's shoulder. Megan lowered herself
to her knees directly in front of him so that her face was even
with his stomach, just above the hard bulge in his pants.
"Sit back on your heels, Megan." As she settled her abused ass
on her heels I could see her wince.
"Back straight, shoulders back, tummy in," he ordered. "Fold
your hands behind your head and push your elbows back."
Megan did as she was instructed. She looked beautiful. Her
breasts were thrust forward and up and her nipples were hard and
erect. Her face was still flushed and wet with tears but I
deducted a certain pride there. Pride in her appearance and
pride that she had survived her beating. I'm sure that she was
aware of the fact that anytime she wanted to end her torment all
she had to do was say the word, a fact had crossed my mind as I
was contemplating my own torment to come.
"Spread your knees farther apart," instructed David. Megan
complied. Her sex glistened with moisture. She looked toward me
and her eyes locked on mine. There was a very slight smile on
her lips. Then her eyes drifted down to my crotch. My cock was
ready to explode. I must have turned ten shades of red. David
laughed.
"This is a position that you'll learn to know well, Megan," said
David. "You, too, Eric. But we'll talk about that later. I
just wanted you to get familiar with it for now. I have a
question, Megan. Of the thirteen licks of the cane that you just
received do you think you could select two that were worse than
the others?"
Without hesitating she replied, "The last two. You struck me
harder for the final two."
"Ah. You see, Megan, I wasn't responsible for the last two," he
said.
"Then who..." Once again her eyes locked on mine and her smile
was a little bit broader. She knew, as I did, that she would
have her revenge.
"Well, now," said David. "I guess it's your turn, Eric. Remove
your shirt, please."
The waiting was over. Now it was my turn to suffer. I stripped
off my shirt. And stood with my hands at my sides.
"Megan, crawl over and remove Eric's shoes and socks, please."
Oh, shit, I thought. It was going to be very difficult to
refrain from losing control and cuming in my pants. Somehow,
just the thought of Megan kneeling at my feet, naked and sore,
and serving me... Well, maybe if I thought about something else.
Like having my ass beaten. Megan untied my tennis shoe and
slipped it off my foot and then stripped off the sweaty sock.
She repeated the maneuver with my other foot and sat back on her
heals, returning her hands to the back of her head.
"You're a fast learner, Megan. You're made for this." Said
David. "Do you love your brother, Megan?"
"Yes," she replied looking up into my eyes.
"Then show him you love him by kissing his feet."
Ohshitohshitohshit! My cock was raging. I'd never make it. Megan
bent over my feet and gently placed her moist lips on the top of
one of them. She pressed harder and I could feel her tongue.
The little vixen was trying to make me cum! She did the same to
my other foot and returned to her former position. I stared off
into space trying to think of anything except the current
reality.
"Remove his shorts, Megan," said David.
Again she had that damn smile. She looked in my eyes as she
unbuttoned my shorts, unzipped them and pulled them down to the
floor where I stepped out of them. My erection was obvious.
Nothing was more obvious. Megan looked at David and he nodded.
She pulled down my boxers and my boner sprang loose bobbing up
and down as I stepped out of my underwear. Megan sat back in her
required position and gazed, still smiling, at my hard prick.
She thought I was uncomfortable and she was right. But there are
many kinds of discomfort, as she would soon learn.
"Kiss the tip of Eric's penis, Megan." She looked at David and
back at my hard prick. With her hands on her thighs she leaned
forward and placed her moist lips on the head of my prick, pursed
and kissed. She knelt back with a wary look on her face like one
might have holding a lit firecracker with a very short fuse.
But David wasn't through. "Megan, point his penis directly
between your eyes and stroke it."
There was no question where this was going. There was no
question of what David wanted. Megan resignedly leaned in toward
my prick a held it at the base between the thumb and forefinger
of her left hand. This was her aiming hand. With her right she
began to stroke my cock. I don't believe I lasted more than ten
seconds. With a grunt I shot my wad into her face hitting her on
the nose, the eye, the cheek, the forehead, the other eye, the
eyebrow. Cum got into her hair and dripped onto her chest. I'll
give my sister credit. She kept that squirting prick pointed
right where she knew David wanted it. Directly into her face.
And she continued to stroke it until that last drop was squeezed
out and dripped between her spread knees. She then placed her
palms, one sticky with my cum, flat against my thighs and looked
up at me with. Her tears had been replaced with my creamy white
cum. Lot's of it. I had been storing it up for a long time.
Her hands went back behind her head and she again settled back on
her heels, shoulders back, tummy in, chest out, face drenched.
I was drained. It seemed like all of the tension that had been
building up in me shot out the end of my prick with my semen and
on to Megan's face. I was drained but, apparently, I wasn't
finished.
"Over the table, Eric," commanded David. Time to pay the piper.
No matter what, I intended to survive my beating, if for no other
reason than because Megan had. I bent over the table and gripped
the far side with my hands. Our kitchen table is a large one.
For Megan to reach the far edge she had to lie flat. Being
several inches taller, my stomach was several inches above the
surface. David used the cane to tap the inside of thighs,
spreading out my legs until my stomach was also flat on the
table. Almost immediately the first stroke cut into the very top
of my thighs. I don't know what I expected but it was nothing
like the pain that seared into my legs. Two more strokes quickly
burned into my ass. I don't think I cried out aloud but I knew
beyond all doubt that I could not survive ten more like that
without breaking down. I focused on only one thing and that was
keeping my grip on the table edge until the beating was through.
Megan was not going to outshine me.
Evidently David had decided that the physical pain wasn't going
to be adequate. He felt that there should be more anticipation.
I lay across that able for what seemed like hours but which I
later learned was only about fifteen minutes. And during every
one of those minutes I was thinking about the pain in my ass and
how much more horrible it was going to be. Eventually I heard a
swishing sound that was David whipping the cane through the air.
I heard it maybe four or five times and I was totally unprepared
when the cane bit into my ass. The next seven strokes were
slowly and methodically administered and each one was worse than
the previous. By the end of tenth stroke I was crying every bit
as energetically as Megan was. There were three left and the
thought of just one more laid onto my burning ass terrified me.
It's impossible to explain how painful a well administered
canning can be. It's impossible to explain the fear of having
another stroke laid on your ass which had already been thoroughly
caned. Some time had passed since the last stroke, enough for
the pain to catch up with my brain. I felt the cane between my
spread legs and tapping my balls.
"Getting kind of excited down there, aren't you, baby brother,"
my sister said.
Oh god no! I had forgotten all about Megan. My pain hadn't even
begun. Oh god no, no, no. Megan was an athlete. Tennis,
baseball, field hockey, all those sports that required good
hand-eye coordination. A good swing. I tightened my grip on the
table edge. I hunkered down and tried to become part of the
table. The cane bit into the center if my ass with terrible
ferocity. The pain shot up my spine and came out my mouth with a
blood-curdling whelp. My feet left the floor as my knees shot up
under the table. I sobbed into my arm that was drenched with my
tears.
"Eric," I heard her say. "I think I'm enjoying giving it to you
even more than getting it from you. How about another? Huh?"
I didn't think anything could be more painful than the stroke I
had just received. The next one was. And the last one was worse
yet. When Megan was through with me I was a quivering,
blubbering mass laid across our kitchen table. As I laid there
it seemed like the pain got worse. My ass grew hotter. I felt a
cool hand caressing my upper back and turned my head expecting to
see Megan's naked thigh but I didn't. Mom was crouched down by
the table, her face level with mine, one hand on my back and the
other covering one of mine. She was smiling gently. She didn't
say anything for the next several munutes as I tried to regain
control of myself. Her cool soft hand caressing my back helped.
As my sobbing subsided she asked, "How are you doing, Eric?
Think you can stand?"
I was still sniffling and wiped my arm across my nose like a
little boy. I smiled back at her. "We'll see, " I said.
My ass was thoroughly whipped but it wasn't like I was wounded or
anything. I pushed myself upright from the table, still
sniffling. Mom came around beside me and hugged me. She wrapped
her arms around me and placed her head on my shoulder. I rubbed
my wet cheek against her hair and hugged her back. After the
trauma of the past hour her contact and reassurance helped. It
occurred to me that I was eighteen and stark naked and that my
mother was fully clothed. It was disconcerting to realize that
although the hug might have been motherly in nature I was
beginning to find it erotic. My independent prick was becoming
hard and pressing against her stomach. Since I had arrived home
over an hour ago all of my sexual inhibitions were becoming
unhinged and now I had reached that one last prohibition. David
decided to help things along.
"Kiss your mother, Eric," he said.
She turned her face toward mine and I kissed her cheek.
"No, Eric," said David. "The two of you both know what I mean.
Now try it again."
My eyes looked in mom's and I saw that the strange feelings that
were churning somewhere down inside me weren't unique. I placed
my lips on hers and hers were moist and sweet tasting. Her
tongue poked into my mouth and I became lost in the forbidden
passion of the moment. Her hands caressed my naked back, my
sides and my hips. She even slid her hands over my throbbing
ass. She caressed it softly and gently and it soothed the
burning. It raised my hormone level. I began to grind my hard
penis into her and she responded by pressing back. Our tongues
had become intertwined and my hands caressed and traveled from
the back of her head to her rear. I cupped her bottom cheeks and
caressed them as she gyrated her hips against my erection.
A couple of hours ago I was a clean-cut college boy. Since then
I beat my sister's ass mercilessly and made her cry in pain. I
came in my sister's face as she jacked me off. I've had my own
ass beaten to the very limits of my tolerance for pain. And then
I was standing naked and dry humping my mother as her boyfriend
and my sister watch. And she's humping me back. And I was
loving it. Loving the pain and the humiliation. Loving the
depravity. Where was it going? Where could it possibly end?
<1st attachment end>
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