Smelly Discipline

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

Cole jolted awake.

He recognized the bedroom almost at once. White walls. Dimmed lights. Grey curtains too thin to keep out the bright rays of the afternoon sun.

He tried to sit up, then froze once he felt the fluffy handcuffs dig into his wrists. He looked back and found himself chained to the bedposts. He widened his eyes, surveying the room.

The bed on which he lay was large, the sheets silk and purple in color. A slim nightstand of oak stood by the edge, stuffed with a mountain of empty Pepsi cans behind a single framed photo depicting a voluptuous brunette hugging a willowy blonde in front of a canyon.

His sister, her blonde hair tied in a bun, was smiling in the picture. His mother, her brown hair cascading freely all the way down to the small of her back, was smirking. He remembered that day like it was yesterday; he had been the one who snapped the picture.

He kept sweeping the room. Several pairs of high heels stood in a neat row in the corner. A large plant towered behind them, its mint-green leaves so thick they didn't look real. Across the room was a black wardrobe. Its doors were open, revealing countless colorful dresses and a variety of shirts and jeans. By its side stood a drying rack, laden with beige jodhpurs and an elegant black jacket adorned with silver buttons on its front. Beneath the rack, placed on a wrinkled newspaper, stood a pair of riding boots spattered in dirt and mud.

He looked to the bathroom. The door was shut. He looked to the door leading into the hallway. That had been left slightly open, and bright light was pouring through the gap. For a moment, he contemplated calling out, then thought better of it. He tested his handcuffs, one at a time, and swore under his breath when he discovered that they were locked.

The sound of footsteps stemming from the hallway caught his attention. Someone was ascending the staircase. Cole flinched, only now grasping the fact that - with the exception of his underwear, a pair of black boxers that almost reached his knees - he was naked.

"I went to bed," he mumbled to himself. "I had a headache and I went to sleep it off-"

The door slid open with a high-pitched creak and a voluptuous brunette appeared in the doorway, clasping a glass of wine in her left hand and a bottle in her right. It was...

"Mom?" He narrowed his eyes. "Mom, what the hell? What is this? What are you-"

She shushed him, ambling into the room with a sway to her hips. She wore a pair of white pajama pants embellished with circles of blue and a grey pajama top on whose front was sewn the head of an adorable unicorn with a white coat and a pink horn. A lock of brown hair had fallen on her face, obscuring her eye, and she blew it out of the way before she went to close the door, missing the handle twice. The back of her pajama top was grey with the exception of four pink letters: Anna. It had been a birthday present from her daughter.

Anna turned around to face him, stared at him for a moment, hiccuped, and started in his direction. She was by the foot of the bed in five unsteady strides, and Cole noted that the wine bottle had been emptied of half its contents. Placing the bottle on the floor, she took a seat by his feet, flattening her rump across the mattress. And hiccuped again.

"Mom," began Cole, after a while. "W- What is this? W- Why am I in your room?"

"I work forty hours a week," she replied, slurring her words. She fixated her eyes on the window where the thin grey curtains were fluttering gently and swirled her wine.

"For eight hours a day, five days a week, I sit down at my computer to fix and clean sentences so horrible they appear to have been written by some fifth grader. And do you know why?"

Cole felt his heart drop into the depths of his belly. His hands started to tremble.

"Because you, my twenty-year-old son, does not have a job. Because your sister, my eighteen-year-old daughter, comes home and cries after college because she cannot afford to get her license. I slave away, day after day, so I can give both of you tremendous amounts of money. Which is fine, I suppose. After all, I am your mother."

"U- Unlock my handcuffs, mom. Y- You're drunk. Y- You don't know what you're-"

"Oh, I wasn't drunk when I slipped you the pills. What? Oh, don't look at me like that. They were only sleeping pills, sweetie; I take them all the time. It's not as if I drugged you."

The scent of her perfume was beginning to fill the room. It was a feminine fragrance, soft and sweet and full with a touch of what could only be described as chemicals.

"I forgot my tea downstairs... I ran back down to get it... And you drugged it?!"

"I was planning to put them in your dinner but apparently I had forgotten that you don't eat beans. You know, the beans I bought and cooked to put food on the table for you."

She patted her tummy. "Oh, well. I guess I should be glad I got to eat both plates."

Cole swallowed. "Is this a joke? Did you and Sarah... Saaaraaah! Come out!"

"Your sister," said Anna, sipping her wine, "is out. And she won't be back for some time. She has a college paper, you see, and decided to spend the evening at the library. At least that is what she told me. She apparently thinks I forgot how it was like to be eighteen-years-old and lie to my parents so that I could go drinking with my friends on late Thursday nights."

"You're lying," he said, rattling the fluffy handcuffs. "This is a joke. And it's not funny."

She downed the rest of the glass, hiccuped, leaned for the bottle, and again filled her glass to the brim. Despite the looseness of her pajama top, her ample bust still filled out the grey shirt, and as she turned toward him, he glimpsed the outline of her perky nipples.

"Let's play a game," she said, after a while. Standing up, she sashayed over to the nightstand, drank another mouthful of wine, balanced the glass on the mountain of Pepsi cans, and opened a drawer. Out came a handheld mirror, attached to the back of a pink hairbrush. She sat back down and held the mirror in front of his face. "What do you see?"

He squinted at her. "I'm not playing this game. Get these handcuffs off me-"

Her eyes flashed menacingly. "Tell me what you see."

He huffed and stared at the glass. And saw brown hair and blue eyes. A small chin and a prominent jawline which clenched in a way that filled him with confidence whenever he ground his teeth. Thin eyebrows, angled slightly downward, and a faint scar that ran from the tip of his ear all the way to his buttony nose. He saw himself. And didn't understand why.

"Tell me what you see. I will not ask you again."

"I see myself. What the hell is this, mom?"

"You're staring at a loser."

He gawked at her. Anna sniffed, wiped her nose, and reached for her pocket. He knew what he was going to see before she pulled it out. She held up a black smartphone. His phone.

They stared at each other for a moment in silence. Then Cole jolted forward, desperately trying to grab it, forgetting all about the handcuffs. He swore, unable to budge, and began to kick his feet at the phone instead. Anna yelped, stood, and backed away from the bed.

"Oh, you won't believe what I found when I went through your texts," she said, typing briefly on the screen. "I was beginning to wonder where all your money was going. Despite your generous allowance, you're always broke. You can't help your sister with her license, can't help me with the bills. In fact, when is the last time you spent money on either of us?"

"It's my money," he sneered, squirming in his bindings, "and that's my phone! Give it!"

She snorted. "You're in no position to demand anything, sweetie. Now let's see... Your password was surprisingly easy to guess by the way. I wonder what that sweet classmate of yours would think if she knew what you were up to? Think girls find that attractive?"

She was smirking, and suddenly she resembled his sister in so many ways. The rigid posture, so easily maintained as if the weight of her ass held back her shoulders. Plump lips painted a bright pink and split in a slight sneer. Thick eyebrows drawn in a sharp arch and the self-tanner brown cream applied a tad too generously. In that moment, his mother was the spitting image of her daughter. Well, except for considerably wider hips.

"Here we go," she continued, concentrating on the screen. "Oh, my... This is quite the Twitter profile... Goddess Brat... What a peculiar name... And what's this? She's twenty-years-old too, that's perfect for you. Is this your girlfriend, Cole?"

He said nothing, staring daggers at her. His face was warm and he had no doubt it was flushing with color. Anna giggled, sipped her wine, and kept scrolling.

"Twenty-year-old goddess bitch from England," she snorted. "But that's not where you live, Cole. Is this a long-distance relationship then? She must like you very much-

"Oh, wait. Oh, my. It seems she wants you to... Get fucked on her gas... And serve and submit... And she's only willing to talk to you if you send her a hundred dollars.

"Care to explain this to your mother, Cole? What does it mean to get fucked on gas?"

He shut his eyes and gave a long-drawn-out shaky sigh. His face was becoming almost unbearably hot, his heart was pounding frantically, and his throat felt clogged.

"There's more," she continued, utterly without shame. "She wants to spit on you... Wants you to pay for her ass... Loves manipulating weak men... Hates beta boys...

"What is a beta boy? I've never heard this term before. Oooh, it seems she's wondering if there is anyone out there willing to buy her huge farts. Well, Cole? Are you?"

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, unable to hold her gaze. "I'm sorry, mom. Please-"

"Five hundred dollars," she interjected, and the playful tone in her voice disappeared in the blink of an eye, "every month, for the past three years, and you've been giving it to her?"

Sinking against the bed frame, he kept quiet, unable to think of anything to say.

"Your little sister," she snarled, "can't afford her license, and you spend your money on a woman you will never meet so that she will ignore you and humiliate you?

"How much are you paying her, Cole? What's that? Speak up. And don't you dare lie."

"Five hundred," he replied, a touch louder. "Look, I am sorry; I will never do it again-"

"In total? No? How often? Look at me, sweetie. How often do you pay her?"

"Five hundred," he said with effort, after a while. "Five hundred a month."

The silence that fell lasted for an excruciatingly long time. Then, without a word, Anna downed her wine and went to fill her glass back up. She was visibly swaying now.

"This is my fault," she whispered, emptying another glass. "I meant to raise a man. Instead, I have raised a pathetic excuse for a boy whose only hobby is to pay mean girls.

"Did your sister not bully you enough? Is that why you won't help take care of your family? Should I have been harder on you? Perhaps you wish I had laughed at you that time Peter pulled your shorts down on the beach and flashed everyone that little shrimp of yours?"

The moment her eyes sought him, he immediately averted his gaze, blushing furiously.

"God knows I wanted to. Oh, trust me: you didn't get that little thing from your father."

"M- Mom! You're drunk! This is nuts! Let me go! I'm not doing this anymore!"

Anna sighed, popping a finger between her lips the way she always did when she was deep in thought. Then lit up suddenly and left her glass on the nightstand. She hurried over toward the window, her fat ass jiggling with her every step, and slammed it shut.

"I think I have a solution," she said, spinning on her heel, smiling brightly. "I understand that you have needs, sweetie, but you don't need to pay all that money to have them fulfilled. Oh, no, no, no, no, that's not at all necessary. I'd be glad to help you out for free."

He stared at her with wide eyes, shrinking his neck into his shoulders. He knew she was joking, knew she wouldn't go through with whatever her mind had conjured up, but he also knew there was no point in saying another word. His mother was, like his sister, prone to excite herself without the help of others, and once she had gotten started, there was nothing else to do but wait it out and hope that her mood would pass quickly.

"Right." Anna flattened the wrinkles on her pajama top, darted over to the nightstand, sipped on her wine, and turned to face him. "Oh, my. Is that a blush I see? Oh, do you no longer want to get fucked on gas? Nonsense! I'll make certain you never feel the need to pay for something like this ever again. Stop scowling, sweetie, and move over."

She scrambled onto the foot of the bed, sinking into the mattress. Collecting her hair over a shoulder, she produced a band from her pocket and deftly made a ponytail. Then, turning on all fours, she began to advance, smirking all the while. Cole was stunned.

She came to a stop halfway up his frame, one knee on either side of him, staring him right in the eye with a look he had never seen on her face before. It was almost sultry.

"Twenty-years-old," she mumbled, slurring her words. "No job, no plans for the future, and no girlfriend in sight. A skinny little boy with a shrimp dick who sits in his room all day."

She clicked her tongue, rolled her eyes, and began to turn. Cole, utterly dumbstruck and rooted to the mattress could only stare at her, his lips taking the shape of a circle.

"A loser," she kept mumbling, seemingly to herself, throwing a leg over his chest and flaunting her backside. "My son is a loser... Or... What did she call you? A beta boy?"

"M- Mom? W- What are you doing? M- Maybe you should stop and think for a sec-"

The look she sent him shut him up immediately. He fell silent, pressing the back of his head against the bed frame in an attempt to escape the approaching ass that kept sliding closer and closer toward his face. Anna was smiling devilishly, an evil gleam in her eye.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to get fucked on my gas? Oh, but I had so many beans, sweetie, and I am not sure if I can hold it in any longer. Are you ready?"

"Mom! You can't do this! Look, I am sorry for what I did, but this is nuts-"

A sudden hot blast of air cut him off, accompanied by a bassy rumble. It took Cole a moment to understand what had happened. Anna threw back her head and let a moan slip from her lips. Then, as she glanced at him over a shoulder and flashed a wicked grin, he smelled it.

She had farted in his face, and the proof was all around for him to sniff. The stench was faint, at least at first, and seemed to slowly grow in potency. Two buttocks draped in a grey pajama embellished with blue circles wobbled in front of his face, and then his mother burst out laughing, laughing so hard she shook, while a horrified Cole tugged on his handcuffs.

"No! Stop laughing! This isn't funny anymore! Let me loose! Mom, stop laugh-"

She ripped another fart, a squeaky one which lasted for several seconds, and he flinched even though he couldn't feel it. Blushing horribly, he fell silent and held his breath.

The lack of any audible reaction seemed to prompt Anna to stop laughing.

Struggling to choke her giggling, she bit her lip, glanced at him, and shook her rear. "Did you like that? Am I better than Goddess Brat and her huge farts? No? Well, let me try again!"

"No! Mom! Stop! Please! I won't do it anymore! I won't! I promise!"

Taking a deep breath, Anna visibly squeezed with all her might. Nothing happened. Sucking in another, she tried again. Nothing happened. He stared at her bottom, beyond baffled.

"Oh, they won't come out," she groaned, pushing a third time. "Well, this won't do! How are we supposed to get you fucked on my gas if I can't fart? Or perhaps it is smelly back there already? Oh, I see. You're holding your breath. Oh, no, no, no. Take a sniff."

Cole, bright red from his neck to the roots of his hair, shook his head. Anna popped a finger between her lips and pondered for a moment. And slapped him between the legs.

He gasped and jerked. "Ooof! You crazy bitc-"

The third fart struck him in the face like a brick, perfectly timed, a quick blast that bathed his face in hot gas. Before he had a chance to react, his mother backed up, pinning his face sideways between her ample bottom and the bed frame.

"Sniff it," she demanded, applying pressure. "Sniff that fart, sweetie! Isn't that what you want? For a girl to fart in your face as if you're no better than her toilet? Go on! Sniff!"

Her butt was soft and warm and supple. And very heavy, squishing his head against the makeshift wall so hard it felt like his jawline was about to crack. Cole whimpered, feeling his cock stir beneath his underwear. And, after a moment of hesitation, sniffed the air.

The stench was repulsive. Hot and sticky and as thick as honey. The smell resembled nothing short of poop, and he whimpered, starting to squirm behind the plump butt.

Anna threw one look at him and howled with laughter. He didn't take another breath, didn't dare, and the fat ass released him, suddenly and without warning. He groaned.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Can't handle my farts? But you were so excited when Goddess Brat posted a fart video; you always clicked on that little heart in the corner. Why aren't you so excited for my farts? Hm? Where's my five hundred dollars? Don't you think I deserve any? Oh, but I do, sweetie. In fact, I think I will withhold your allowance this month."

"Y- You're disgusting," he sneered, twitching in fear when she feigned another pounce with her ass, "a- and this is ridiculous. I've already apologized; I won't pay her anymore!"

"Oh, I can feel another coming," she groaned, oblivious to his words. "Oh, I think this one is much bigger. All those beans probably weren't good for me. And all that wine."

Cole shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and whined loudly. "Mom, listen to me!"

"But you like it when women ignore you," she retorted, her voice as soft as the mewling of a kitten. "Have you changed your mind already? Oh, I thought you'd last longer than that."

The bed creaked and he let one eye slide open. Anna was no longer on the bed, having stood up, heading for the wine. She drank a glass, looked his way, and smiled sheepishly.

"When I was in college," she began, after a while, staggering toward the bed, "I once let loose an absolutely thunderous fart in the locker room after soccer practice. I was very embarrassed, of course; there were four other girls in the locker room and they all heard it. But do you know what happened? Do you think they laughed at me, sweetie? Oh, no.

"I was popular, had excellent grades, and all the pretty boys threw themselves at my feet just to get a chance to hold the door for me. I was the queen in my sorority - a very exclusive sorority, of course - and on the soccer field, there was no one better. I even beat the boys.

"No one dared to laugh that day. They all pretended they hadn't heard it, terrified that I'd drop them from my life. A life they all wanted. A life I wanted for you and your sister.

"I was wrong. Your sister seems to be doing well for herself. But you? You have no father in your life, that's probably the problem. You don't respect me, do you? Oh, you've become so accustomed to girls denying you that you cannot respect a woman who slaves for you.

"No, keep your mouth shut; mommy is talking. I've often wondered what to do about your behavior. I guess the answer was right in front of me all along."

She huffed, strutted over to the bed, knelt on his phone, and again climbed onto the mattress. He groaned in protest when she crawled over him, her breasts bobbing inches from his face. Then she reached for a pillow, wedged it beneath his back, grabbed him by the shoulders, and forced him to lie down. He parted his lips to object but was silenced by a sassy finger. Without a word, whistling casually, Anna turned around and mounted his chest.