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From: "H. Jekyll" <h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Hidden"  by  deirdre  (FM, D/s, incest, spanking)  -- rp by H. Jekyll and Please Cain
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Date: Sat, 18 Mar 2006 06:10:04 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Hidden

By deirdre

(FM, D/s, incest, spanking)

*****

NOTE: We are not the authors of this story. "deirdre" was the enigmatic
queen of Usenet sex stories in the mid-1990s. She posted 156 stories in
just over two years, using an anonymous remailer and apparently *never*
corresponding with anyone (though she did give permission to repost her
stories to non-commercial sites). She was last heard from in late April
1996. We will repost all 156 stories, with comments by her, in
alphabetical order, between now and the 10th anniversary of her
"retirement." 

Please contribute to the 10th Anniversary "deirdre-fest" next month.
Meanwhile, enjoy! 

To contact us: h_jekyll2000@yahoo.com, or PleaseCain@aol.com. 

*****


Date: Sun, 28 Jan 1996 06:26:09 UTC 


Request to alt.sex.stories posters: if your posting does not include a
story, please don't post it to alt.sex.stories. Please post it to
alt.sex.stories.d.

Disclaimer: my stories, like the private sex fantasies of many people,
often depict "breaking some rules". Do not read this story if you
believe fantasy stories should never depict situations undesirable in
real life. Be warned that you may not be comfortable with the sexual
situations. Do not read this story if you are less than 18 years of
age.

Permission granted to repost, to make available online, and to publish
in low-cost CD-ROM archives of alt groups if attributed to deirdre.
Permission granted to publish in periodicals and anthologies of this
type of material if attributed to deirdre and an author's payment is
sent to AIDS research in the name of deirdre. -- deirdre


Hidden by deirdre, 12/9/95

The noise! I couldn't be caught--I just couldn't. I looked around in a
panic. They were in the house and I could hear them coming! The closet.
I went for it as quickly as I could, and sat back in the corner. I
didn't even shut the door: it would be too noisy.

They came in. Why!? Why had I done this? I was dead; I knew it. It was
so stupid, nosing around their room when they could show up any time.

Well, I couldn't help but be curious. The noises coming from their room
so many nights. I always stayed in my own room, but I couldn't help
hearing the noises. My own parents! Naturally I'd wonder what was going
on.

It had to be sex of some kind. Yeah, I'd read a bit and heard a bit:
sometimes people, well, "play". Do weird things. My own parents? It was
hard to imagine them, but that had to be it. It had preyed on me. I had
to see if I could find out about it.

And now I was caught in their room. I'd been looking through some of
the drawers, and had found nothing. Not a thing out of the ordinary.

"So..." It was Mom's voice. There was no answer, though I was sure she
was talking to Dad. The door shut. Now I was *really* trapped. "So you
*enjoyed* yourself tonight?" she continued.

Still silence. She continued again: "Looking at that *Ellen*?"

Another awkward silence. Then finally Dad's voice: "Honey, I..."

"Quiet!" she said suddenly. Then: "I like it better when you *don't*
talk."  I heard walking. And more: one of them was practically circling
the room.  "Looking at little Ellen. Again? Probably..."

No answer.

"Take your clothes off!" It was still Mom talking! She paused again and
I heard it: the rustle of clothes. And a slight female giggle, then
silence.

"She might get your attention, but*I* have your obedience, don't I?"

"Yes ma'am."

She laughed out loud. "And your naked body! What are you?"

"A worm."

"You got *that* right. You're *my* worm, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And it's looking like you *like* it, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Better than looking at your Ellen?"

"Yes ma'am."

"But you *did* get hard looking at her, didn't you?"

"Uh, no ma'am."

She laughed again. The sound of her laugh; I couldn't believe this was
Mom!  I'd suspected something, and I'd wanted to know, but it was still
a shock.  "Ha! Well, maybe not *hard*, but she *did* interest you,
didn't she?"

"Uh, yes ma'am."

"Mmm..." Somehow she didn't exactly sound upset--more like she was
happy about it, or at least enjoying herself. "Maybe just a little bit
hard?"

"Maybe, ma'am."

"Think about what she'd be like naked?"

"Yes ma'am."

"*Now* we're getting somewhere. Thinking about another woman right
there in front of your *wife*! What are you?"

"A worm, ma'am."

"Thinking about fucking her?" Even after all that, it blew me away,
hearing that word from Mom!

"Uh, yes ma'am."

"Undoubtedly. Her ass, right?"

"Yes ma'am." I couldn't believe this!

"Yep, I saw you eying that little rear of hers. And *I* know how your
mind works, don't I?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well, *we* know what to do about *this*, don't we?"

Dad didn't answer, but I heard walking, then the sound of a drawer. I
thought about leaning closer to the door to peek, but my fear was
*much* stronger than my curiosity and I wasn't about to chance it.

"Are you ready?"

No answer. Then she giggled again. "Ok, buster, lean over."

Then I heard movement, then breathing. This was unreal: how could they
be doing this? I didn't know what it was, but ideas were flying through
my mind.  "You like *this*, don't you?" came Mom's voice. Still no
answer. "My *own* little Ellen!"

It was too much. I *had* to see. I quietly leaned over until I could
see more of the room out the door. I slowly and cautiously moved my
head so as to see more toward the center of the room. The first of them
I saw was Dad's head.

Dad was lying over the edge of the bed, face down. I leaned further.
And just stared. Mom was still dressed, same as she was when they'd
gone out.  She was behind Dad, holding something, pushing it in his
rear! And pulling and pushing.

I watched, unable to stop. I realized that Dad's hands were behind his
back.  Handcuffs of some kind! "Are *you* my little Ellen?" came Mom's
voice. It startled me and I withdrew.

"Uh..."

"*My* little slut... to do with as I please." She giggled again.

"Yes... ma'am..." He seemed to be struggling to talk rather than grunt.

"You're going to come now, aren't you?" No answer. "Pathetic worm..."
Then just more noises. They went on for a while.

"Stand up!" Once again, it was so sudden. I heard movement, then she
giggled again. "You must *really* want to come now."

"Yes ma'am."

"You want me to touch that cock?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, you'll have to do better than *that*."

"Uh, *please* touch my cock." Dad was *begging* Mom for sex and she was
playing it to the hilt. *My* parents!

Another giggle. "Begging your wife again, aren't you?"

"Yes... *please*!"

"And you're gonna pleasure *me*, aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"And *love* it too, I'll bet. And you think *I'll* touch you?"

"Please!"

"After ignoring your wife for whatsername?"

No answer. Then I heard clicking. "Take care of *yourself*. In the
bathroom so I don't have to watch."

I heard walking and sounds from the bathroom. And more walking and
movement in the room. Suddenly she was right at the closet door.

You can't imagine the panic I felt--I thought she'd hear my heart if
nothing else. I was back as far as I could go into the corner and the
hanging clothes certainly obscured things.

I was *sure* she'd see me. So sure of it. But then she was gone. More
sounds of movement and rustling. Then her voice: "You done? Come out
here."

More steps, then she spoke again: "Get dressed."

"Hon?" He sounded confused.

"I said get dressed." There was no more talking, but more sounds of
movement and dressing. Then I heard the door open. "Come on." Then
steps away from the room, then silence.

I quietly peered out. Should I run now? I heard the front door.
Silence.  Then the car. I was out in a flash.

I lay in my room--I couldn't believe I was so lucky. It seemed so
strange, them going back out like that. I lay in bed. And masturbated.

And lay. Even after I'd come, I still just lay there, thinking about
it. Not so excited any more: just wondering about Mom and Dad! Who'd
ever guess that *they* did stuff like *that*? I thought about going and
checking the room again. She'd had a dildo or something. And the
handcuffs! But I wasn't about to put myself in *that* position again. I
heard them return as I lay in my bed, and heard some noises, then
silence. Well, no noises that could have been like what they were doing
before. I just lay in the dark, thinking about it. And I did come
again.

She was in the kitchen when I came in in the morning. No sign of Dad,
but he'd be gone by this time. She still looked like the same old Mom,
though my mind raced as I went about getting some cereal and stuff.
She'd said "Good Morning," and I'd probably mumbled my reply--I knew I
had to start paying attention if I wanted to get through the morning.

She sat with me while I ate, reading the paper. Then I was done and
putting my stuff at the sink. When I turned around, she was looking at
me. "Well, Bobby?" she said.

"What?" I answered.

"You think I didn't see you?" I stood there, and a strange calm came
over me.  In two seconds I realized I should be panicking, but by that
time I was all right. Strangely calm. Scared, but not feeling any urges
to run out the door.

"Uh, Mom, I'm sorry."

"What were you doing?"

"I'm sorry Mom! I was just curious."

She sat there, silently for a while. "It's kind of a shock discovering
that someone is spying on your most private moments," she said. I felt
so awful.  "I'm *really* ashamed of you."

"Mom, I'm sorry!" I almost felt like I was going to cry.

"What am I going to do with you? I *should* tell your dad."

No! I didn't want that! You have to believe me when I say that the
"Dad" that I saw the night before was *nothing* like Dad when he was
mad! I stared at Mom. In my mind I was pleading with her to do anything
else. "You know, you aren't too big to spank," she finally said.

It was ridiculous. I hadn't been spanked in years. I was in high
school, for God's sake. She was just threatening--I could tell. It was
*definitely* ridiculous: I was bigger than *she* was.

"Come here," she went on. I stared at her. I walked over, not knowing
what to make of this.

"Lie down over here," she said, patting her thighs. I stared. "Do it!"

I did it. I lay face down over her lap. She didn't do anything for a
second.  "Get up and get those jeans down," she finally said.

So I stood up, and looked at her. "Won't do much good through *that*,"
she said, obviously meaning my jeans. After a pause, my fingers went to
the button. And I found myself sliding my jeans down right there in
front of Mom.

She patted her thighs again, looking at me. There I was, jeans around
my ankles, once again lying over my mother's lap. I felt her hand on
the waistband of my underpants. And they were pulled down, around my
thighs.

Her hand. It went right on my cock. She giggled. My cock was hard.
"Just like the father," she said, then: "You'd better get out of here."
Then a second later: "Now!"

I felt her sort of pushing me off with my legs and I got up and quickly
got pants up again. She wasn't looking at me. I could tell she was
looking away on purpose. "Kate should know what you are like," she
said, and giggled. I was back in my room in seconds.

I heard her leave. I masturbated.

But I have to explain Kate. She's my age and the daughter of one of
Mom's best friends. Mom had this fantasy that Kate and I should be
going together.  Kate's OK, but she wasn't interested in me and I
certainly wasn't interested in her. But Mom liked to talk about it.

Believe me, that night and morning never left my thoughts the whole
day.  Whatever I did, I found my mind drifting back. Mom certainly had
sides that I'd never imagined, even if I *did* imagine *something*
going on in their bedroom.

The spanking business. And the way she felt me. She could have spanked
me!  I'd have taken it, at that moment. I was sure of it. Why did she
do that?  Why did she start that, and then just stop? Had she really
thought that it would be like spanking a little boy or something? With
my rear bare?

I was a little tongue-tied the next time I saw her, but she didn't seem
put- off or anything. She gave me this sly little look, almost like we
were having a private joke or something. But that was it. All was back
to normal. Other than the state of my mind, and the masturbating I did,
thinking about Mom.

I sat in the corner of the closet, looking up at Mom. I don't know what
had got into me. I was in their closet again, and they'd come in. No,
it wasn't the same as before, but Mom had told Dad to get undressed and
then sent him to the shower. Then she'd appeared at the closet door.

But she hadn't left--not this time. She'd pushed the clothes to the
side and looked down at me. She just stared, giving me an expression as
if I were a mischievous child or something. "Out!" she said. I was up
and out of there.

The next morning, I was slow coming into the kitchen. There she was,
reading the paper. I was still in my pajamas and robe.

She put the paper down and just looked at me. She didn't look angry.
Just a strange, determined look. "Ok, junior, come here," she said, her
voice sounding sarcastic. I came.

She patted her lap. I slipped the robe off and lay over it, just in my
pajamas. For a second, nothing happened, then she spoke again: "You're
a *very* naughty boy!"

Then I felt her hands at the waistband of my pajama pants. Then they
were down. "Let's see... how long as it been since you've had a
spanking?"

I couldn't say exactly how many years. Ten? I didn't speak. Suddenly,
pain shot through me, my rear. She'd spanked me. It was happening.
"Kate *definitely* has to get to know the *real you*," she said. More
pain. And again.

She stopped. "Let's see, how many do you deserve? How about ten?"

I lay there. She smacked me again and again. Then she stopped.

"Stand," she said. I stood: "No, leave them down!" I'd almost pulled up
my pajama pants.

I stood there, my cock sticking straight out. She stared right at it.
"OK, give me a show," she said. She glanced up at my eyes for a second,
then when I didn't move, looked me steadily in the eye. "Come on, make
it spurt."

She held my gaze. "Now." She spoke it so calmly. I started stroking
myself, standing right there in front of Mom. She didn't move her eyes
at all: just stared into mine. I stared right back.

It didn't take long. Right on the kitchen floor. She'd never broken her
gaze and neither had I. Then suddenly she smiled this wicked smile, and
stood and walked out.

I looked down at the floor. I cleaned it up and went and showered. The
next time I saw her, she looked at me with a knowing smile, then
suddenly spoke in an angry voice: "Be ready for that tomorrow
morning... but don't you *ever*... go in that closet again!"

And let me tell you: she hadn't been truly angry with Dad in the
bedroom even once when I heard her. Or when she was spanking me. But at
that moment, I *knew* I'd better not cross her again. And I didn't.

But the next morning, she spanked me again. Ten times. But this time,
when I masturbated, she watched my cock instead of staring me down.
When I'd finished, she gave a little giggle and I saw her smirk. I
left. She must have cleaned the floor.

And the next morning, another spanking. And the next. I wondered: how
long would this last? But I loved it so much.

But the next morning when I came out, Mom was sitting in the kitchen
with Mrs. Phillips, talking. There I was in my pajamas and robe. I just
went and got my cereal and bowl.

I'd just gotten everything ready, and realized they'd stopped talking,
and were looking at me. I paused. Finally Mrs. Phillips spoke: "Barb
tells me you take after your father."

I stood there, I'm sure an involuntary smile forming on my face, trying
to think of the right answer. What was Mom playing at, saying that?
"Uh...," I started, stymied.

"You like to be *handled*," she continued, still just looking at me. I
stared. What had Mom said? What did Mrs. Phillips know about Dad? "Take
off your clothes," she finally said.

I looked at Mom. She just looked back at me. As did Mrs. Phillips. "Do
it," she continued.

I did it. I slipped the robe off, then my pajama shirt, then my pajama
pants.  I stood there, in front of them, naked. Hard. They just looked.

Mrs. Phillips stood up. She started walking around me, looking me up
and down. When she got behind me, she was suddenly close. Her hand was
on my rear. Then her finger was pushing in. Her face was over my
shoulder.

The finger in my rear. I'd *never* imagined something like this would
happen.  I was so hard. "Like that, huh?" she said, practically in my
ear. "Huh?"

"Answer her," said Mom.

"Yes," I said.

"Yes, *Ma'am*," said Mom.

"Yes Ma'am," I repeated.

"Your Mother is right," said Mrs. Phillips. "You're just right for
Kate."  Mrs. Phillips is Kate's mother. The finger moved. Another
worked its way in.

And do you know, Kate and I *did* start going out, and have stayed
together for years? In fact, the wedding is next month.

But since we both finished college, I've already been at Kate's
apartment almost all our free time. She keeps me naked, and has a
little whip that she likes to use to play with my cock. She'll lift it
and push it around with that little whip. When we're alone, she does it
a lot. And she demonstrates for her Mom when she comes over, and for
her future mother-in-law too. They all say I've gotten very good with
my tongue. Especially when they "encourage" me with that little whip.


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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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