My MIL Sex Slave

We had barely made it to Susie's room and broken open a beer when we heard Betty scream followed by a large crash. We ran to the dining room where we saw a chair turned over and Betty on her hands and knees in front of Sean, trying to get away from him, her skirt over her head, panties around her thighs, Sean trying to shove his cock into her, anywhere. Beth and I were immobilized, but Susie didn't hesitate a second and ran to the couple screaming. Along the way she picked up a ceramic vase and was getting ready to use it on Sean when he saw her swing.

He got his arm up in time to avert the blow from his head, but he was off balance enough that it knocked him to the floor. "You bastard," Susie screamed at him. "It's not enough you beat me until I can't screw! You need to rape your fucking wife, too? Can't you get it up without hurting someone?" Her foot swung back and then forward, aiming at his crotch. He saw it coming, but wasn't quite fast enough to totally evade the kick, but did save his balls, taking her toe between his sac and his asshole.

"Get out," he moaned. "All of you, get out before I fucking kill you; especially you, you little whore cunt," he said to Sue. "Get your motherfucking ass out of my house!"

Betty had pulled herself together enough to straighten her skirt and turn around. "No, Sean," she yelled, "you fucking son of a bitch! You get out! You want to partner with your trollop sister? Well, maybe she'll let you in her bed, too, if you don't mind sharing her with the whole fucking neighborhood. Just get your sorry frigging ass out of here. When you can be reasonable, we'll talk; until then, you can screw your own goddam ass!"

Sean's face grew dark with anger. His hands clenched and unclenched, several times. His eyes darted back and forth, taking us in. "Fuck all of you!" he said, standing up, and walked out.

Betty held it together until we heard the door slam down at the street, then she started wailing, "Ohmigod, what have I done? Sean, you bastard, come back! I didn't mean it! Oh, god! What am I going to do?" Then she began sobbing, just like her daughter an hour or so earlier--huge wailing, gasping sobs. The kind that shake your body from head to toe, and you're just listening to them.

"Oh, can it, mother!" exclaimed Susie.

"Mom, stop crying! He's gone and can't hear you," ordered my wife.

Susie was on the phone to her landlord in a flash, making arrangements to move in a day early. When Beth asked why she was leaving early, she replied, "If that fucker comes back tonight, I don't want to be any where near him. The way I feel right now, I'm apt to cut off his cock and feed it to him.

"Thank you, Beth, for everything," she continued, giving her sister a hug. She then turned to me with a wide grin. "You, too, big brother. I'll always remember this day with a smile," she said, putting her arms around my neck and kissing me, full on open lips, attempting to remove my tonsils.

"Down, girl. That's my husband you're trying to screw. You had your sample earlier," Beth laughed.

"Only one sample? I thought I was your favorite sister!" She pushed out her lower lip, pretending, unsuccessfully, to pout.

"Come visit, and we'll see," Beth replied, smiling.

Susie moved close to Beth, and in a soft voice, so Betty couldn't hear, said, "Have Bear fuck Mom. Part of her problem is she and Dad haven't done it since I can't remember when. When I started high school, just before we moved in here, I asked her why she was always screaming at night after she and Dad went to bed. She got all embarrassed and said it was just her and Dad fooling around. Then I understood what was happening, and it hasn't happened in a long time."

She called a couple of friends, threw her clothes in a couple of suitcases and plastic bags and was gone with barely a trace remaining, in an hour. While she was packing, Beth and I sat down with Betty to talk about her future. She had no job, and no saleable job skills. We had just convinced her to come back with us until she had decided what she was going to do, when the phone rang. It was Sean, calling to see if she had changed her mind.

"Beth and Mick have invited me to live with them until everything is straightened out," she told him. She was quiet as he spewed his answer into the phone. You could see the shock and pain take over her face, quickly followed by anger. "How the fuck would you know, you cocksucker? You haven't touched me in two years! I'm not even sure you can get it up anymore!" Then she slammed the phone down. "That bastard," she screamed, then started the wracking sobs again. "He said he didn't want me, that I wasn't any fun in bed anymore!" she wailed.

Beth went to her, and with an arm around her shoulders, led her to the kitchen. "Let's have a cup of tea while we talk about what has to be done to move you out of here." Betty nodded, then stopped. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic garbage bag and went to her bedroom. A few minutes later she called me to help her. "That son of a bitch has been reading these to me as things he wanted to try," she said. "There's ten years worth of them; he never threw any of them out. Fuck him! Take these to the dumpster out back, will you?" I glanced in the bag--ten years of Penthouse Magazine, including the first years from the UK! Shit, I was so tempted, but I also knew the kind of hell it would cause if I kept them. So, out they went. (OUCH!!!)

It took us a week to get her packed, the furniture stored, her to an attorney to start separation proceedings, and to learn from her landlord that Sean had told him three months earlier they wouldn't be renewing their lease, up at the end of June, two weeks away.

Beth drove our minivan, loaded with our luggage and some boxes of stuff Betty didn't want to be without. I drove Betty's two-year old Caprice. She rode with whichever one of us she wanted to talk to, usually Beth. We split the trip into two days, sharing a room overnight.

Betty used the shower first, and, afterward, came out in a sheer light blue shortie nightie which barely covered her snatch, not that it would have mattered. I could fucking count her freckles from across the room, the goddam gown was so transparent. When she saw our reaction, she looked down, got all embarrassed and said, "Oops," scurrying under the covers of the closest bed.

When we got back home, Summer school was just starting. I checked with the Departmental Office and learned I was scheduled for a twice weekly evening class, from 7pm to 10 pm, Tuesday and Thursday evenings.

The first night we were home, Beth shared Susie's suggestion with me, saying she thought it might be a good idea, not just because it had been so long, but also because of the psychic hurt Sean's last statement caused.

Think about this. Here I am, a healthy adult male, late thirties, with a hot wife ten years younger, who has an eighteen year old sister who has let me know she'll be available whenever we can get together. Now my wife has instructed me, not just given permission (like she did with Sis), but instructed me, to pound my mother-in-law's poor neglected pussy. The shit of it was, MIL had about as much attraction for me as a root canal. She was pretty enough, artificially platinum blonde, petite, about five two, with tits about the size of a small orange at the time. She was just so goddamned pathetic.

Our routine that summer was for Beth to be up and out by eight. She'd stop in to give me a kiss and suggestion for dinner. I'd lay abed, thinking about what I had to get done that day, scratching my balls and playing with my prick (don't snigger like that; you do it, too), for a half hour or so. When I got to the kitchen, Betty was there, just sitting. She had been shown how to make coffee three or four times, but claimed she couldn't because she wasn't sure how to make it the way I like it. Didn't want to fry herself an egg or two, because she wasn't sure she could use our food. Same with toast. Once she asked how much water she should use to make the Jell-o for the fruit salad we were making for supper.

To top it off, because her mother was right next door, Beth, agreeing it was silly, was embarrassed to make love. We had been back three weeks with only a quickie one afternoon when Betty went out to get her hair done. I don't know, maybe she was priming me for what happened.

One late August Monday morning, Beth was gone. I got up to go take a piss, and ran into, literally ran into Betty as she came out of her room, with a pair of sweat pants and bra on. I reached out to grab her around the waist to keep her from falling. To keep her upright, I pulled her against me and my morning wood. She turned bright red and retreated to her room without a sound.

After draining my bladder, I went back to her room to let her know the b.r. was free. She was just sitting there on her bed, still shirtless. I walked in, nothing between me and the Adam state except for a pair of jockeys. She looked up at my face, then glanced at my crotch, and back up. I told her why I had stopped in, and then I said, "You're small enough up top, you could go braless. Want me to get a pencil, and do the pencil test."

She just looked puzzled, but then nodded. I pattered my way to the kitchen, found a half used wood pencil and pattered my way back to her bedroom. She was still sitting on the bed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. I walked up to her, half way back to full wood, my crotch at her face level. She could hardly take her eyes off it. I shoved the pencil between my teeth and grabbed her under her shoulders to lift her up.

Once she was on her feet, I reached for the front clasp of her bra and flicked it open. Her eyes widened as I pushed the bra down her arms. Once it was clear, I grasped her right nipple between my thumb and finger and lifted her breast, then placed the pencil right against her chest wall, where it met her breast. As soon as I pinched her nipple, Betty had let out a small moan. When I lifted her tit by the nipple, the moan got louder, but was still just barely audible. Instead of simply releasing the nipple, I pulled my fingers off it, not releasing the pinch. By now both nipples were erect. And the pencil dropped into my hand.

"I should do the other one as well," I said, lifting her left tit in the same way. Her eyes closed as she grabbed my upper arms, not to interfere with the 'test,' but to steady herself. The moan was louder, and this time when I pulled my fingers off her nipple, there was an audible gasp. "Liked that, huh?" Her eyes flew open as I pushed her hands into the waistband of her sweat pants. "Take them off," I instructed her.

I reached up and took hold of her nipples again, pinching and pulling on them. She didn't move. Didn't push her sweats down, but also didn't take her hands out. I pulled some more on her nips, then, like a puppy shaking a sock, I started shaking one breast side to side, and the other up and down. I could smell her pussy. I released her left tit and slid my hand between her legs, feeling the heat and dampness.

"Betty," I said in a hoarse voice, "if I have to take your pants off, I'll fuck every hole I can force my cock into. If you want to have any voice in what happens to you this morning, push them down, sweats and panties, if you're wearing any. Now." Eyes closed, head tilted back, waiting, mouth open for a kiss, she pulled her hands out and grabbed my dick.

"You wouldn't..."

I spun her around, pushing her onto the bed, and pulled her pants and underwear off. I lifted her hips so her chest and shoulders were on the bed and, in a single stroke, buried my eight inches in her hungry hoohoo.

"Nooooooooooooooooh!" It had started as a scream, and wound up a long low moan. "Oh god oh god oh god ohohohohohoohohohoooh," was all she could say. Three weeks without any, I was set to explode pretty quick, but I guess her two years trumped me. By the time I sprayed her pussy walls, she had come three times.

Right after I came, I pulled out and flipped her over onto her back and pulled her head around to my crotch. She knew what I wanted. "No, Mick. I don't do that. I never did for Sean, and I'm not going to start now."

"I don't give a flyin' fuck what you did or didn't do for Asshole," I told her, plugging her nose. When she opened her mouth to breathe, I shoved my lovebone in it, released her nose, and grabbed a fistful of hair. "Just like a popsicle, sucking and licking," I told her, pulling her face to my curlies. She got the idea pretty soon and cleaned our juices off me without any further instruction.

Her ministrations kept me hard. While she was cleaning me up, I saw a bottle of lotion on her bedside table, and grabbed it. I let go of her hair and pulled out of her mouth. She was going to need some practice to get good at fellatio, and I was going to make sure she got it.

Meanwhile, I flipped and turned her, pulling her ass up again, then I poured some lotion in her crack and some on my dick. I rubbed it into and in to her pucker, to her loud objections and resistance. She was begging me not to bugger her, right up to the instant I popped through the outer sphincter. Then she screamed until I got through the next one. Then she was just sobbing while I fucked her ass. She didn't seem to realize she was partly to blame for me being there; I had told her what would happen.

Pretty soon, sobs gave way to moans of pain, then moans of pleasure, and finally screams of pleasure. When we were both done coming, I turned her around and put a pillow under her neck, so her head fell backward. She shook her head no, but when I bopped her on the tip of her nose with my dirty dick, she opened up and accepted me all the way in, just like in her pussy and ass.

When I thought I was clean enough, I grabbed her hand and pulled her to my bedroom. Missionary position, and a kneeling clean up. She didn't offer any resistance. In the bathroom, I took her ass again while she bent over the sink. She sat on the throne, her hands pulling on my ass to get me closer, to suck our juices off me. In the kitchen, I sat her on the table and pounded pussy. Clean up was a variation of the neck pillow, with her head falling off the table. In the living room, doggie position in front of the fireplace and during clean up.

In the den, I was getting tired, so I had her cowgirl style, up the back chute. I stayed lying down while she licked my cock and balls clean. On the side of the house, we had a screened in porch. It was pretty well shaded in the morning, and it was impossible to see what was going on from outside the black screen. It was a repeat of everything that happened in her bedroom, minus the screams of pain.

Pussy and ass, I had fucked her to at least nine orgasms plus she had sucked me clean of my cum and her juice and shit. I was goddam sore when we were done, but nowhere neat as sore as she was. I don't know if she was telling the truth about not sucking Sean, but I was pretty damn well sure I was the first up her keester. I had told her what would happen if she didn't do what she was told. It was time to drive the lesson home.

I sat down on the couch in the living room, flopped down is more accurate. "Go get my shorts out of your room and bring them to me. Come right back. If you stop anywhere, you'll earn yourself a spanking." She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me. Sure enough, I heard the toilet flush and the water running while she washed her hands and who knows what.

Several seconds later she appeared in the door between the kitchen and living room and tossed me my shorts, then turned to go back to her room. "Betty," I called to her. "Come here!" It was loud enough to be heard in the back of the apartment, but not menacing at all. In a couple of seconds, she reappeared. I waved her to me, and when she was within reach, I grabbed her and tore off the panties she had put on, and put her across my knee. "Now, let's see, you went to the bathroom, washed your hands, put on panties, and what else?" I asked her.

"J-j-j-just cleaned off your cum from my legs."

"And threw my shorts at me, instead of bringing them as you were instructed, right?"

"Y-y-yes," she stammered, "I thought..."

"When I tell you to do something, you don't need to think, just do what you're told. Otherwise, you get spanked, understand?"

"N-n-no, no, you're not going..." SMACK, right where the ass cheek meets the thigh, fingers hitting the vulva. "Oooooowwwwww!" she screamed.

"That's just to show you I can and will. You have seven of them coming, one for each act of disobedience, and a general one for emphasis. You will count them, and thank me for each one as you get them. If you do not count it, and thank me before the next spank, it doesn't count. Any questions?" I hesitated for a short second, then started.

"N-no, not..." SMACK, the next one was on the fleshy part of her ass, if it could be called that. She was so fucking skinny, I could feel her ass bones when I hit her. "Two, thank you," she cried out, in a hurry.

"Sorry, that was supposed to be number one; you didn't thank me for the first one, so now we have to start over."

"Migod! No, Mick!" SMACK! "One," she sobbed, "thank you!" And so it continued to number seven. She was crying and sobbing as hard as she had the day Sean left her. I picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. I found the lotion on the floor where I had dropped it, and squirted some on her inflamed butt and massaged it in.

"Betty," I said softly. "A lot of what happened here today, is going to happen frequently, if not daily. Beth has given me permission to fuck you as I want to. If you want to have any say in how that happens, then when I tell you to do something, you do it the way I tell you to.

"You obviously need to get used to doing that, so I'll give you a little slack, room for hesitation, and permission to ask questions. To get used to the idea, I have an exercise for you. Until you go to bed tonight, you will do whatever I tell you to do, and only what I tell you to do. With the exception of breathing, if you want or have to do anything, you must ask permission from me or Beth. Pissing, shitting, farting, eating, drinking, belching, sitting, standing, whatever. Unless one of us tells you to do it, you must ask permission. You will be allowed one slip. After that, each time you slip up, you will receive five spanks, starting the first time with my hand, then each subsequent time with something which will hurt more than the last time, up to and including a belt.

"You can say yes, you accept and things will go on as described; or you can say no, pack up and leave. Those are your choices." She flipped over to look at me and started to speak. I interrupted her, "One more thing, when I fuck Beth, you will be expected, no, required to clean my cum from her cunt and ass."

She first looked horrified, then a lustful look crept into her eyes and on to her face. She nodded slowly. "Okay, I accept. May I get up now?"

I slid my hand up the inside of her thigh, to her cunt. I could feel the heat and moisture four inches away from her swamp. I shook my head. "Not yet, it feels like this pussy needs some more attention. I'll have to invite some friends over some afternoon for a little gangbang fun. How does that sound?"

She smiled, but shook her head no. "If today was a sample of what you can do, you'll be more than enough. Where do you want me, in what position?"

By Labor Day we had settled into our respective roles. I was Betty's Master, Beth was my surrogate when I wasn't around, and Betty was our slave, in a fashion. She always had the option to say no, or to refuse to obey an order, or deny a request. She knew we would not force her to comply, but she also knew she would have to return to family in Chicago. She wasn't penniless. Sean had been sending her money she hadn't needed to spend, every week. A thousand dollars isn't much, but it would get her home with some to spare.