The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 05

The Adventures of a Slut Mommie.

Chapter 5: Back to the Clinic II.

Hi everyone. Katie Muggleton back again. You know, when I began this memoir, I thought maybe a few people might be interested enough to read my first chapter, and they might carry over to the second, but I didn't expect to go beyond that because I thought interest would wane swiftly. However, here we are, four chapters completed and beginning a fifth. Let me remind you how chapter 4 ended, and I'll tell you about my subsequent adventures.

My son, Johnny, upset because his football club had told him they would cut him at the end of the season, got drunk with his girlfriend and two of her friends. No matter his age, a boy always needs his mommie when he's hurt, so Johnny called me and asked me to come and get him.

Of course, I immediately put on a dress and drove to his girlfriend Gina's house. Getting there, I found Johnny in Gina's parents' hot tub, drunk and passed out. Gina and her two friends, Jennifer and Charmaine, were in the tub with my son. Gina invited me to join them, but I demurred, preferring to take my son home immediately.

However, as Gina pointed out, with Johnny passed out, it was unlikely that even the four of us could carry him to my car, even if I were prepared to let him get in with wet shorts. Reluctantly, I agreed to join the girls in the tub, but only if Gina could provide swimwear.

Gina took me up to her mother's bedroom and handed me a bikini so tiny as to be obscene. I refused to put it on until, using her dominance over me, Gina sexually stimulated me until I docilely did as told, donned the garment and then followed her back to the tub.

After walking out Gina's back door to the admiration and catcalls of my son and the others, my typical flirtatious nature took over, and I strutted across to the tub like a woman who knew she would win the swimsuit section of The Miss Universe Pageant.

When I got back in the tub, Gina's friend Charmaine, a tiny, gorgeous young woman with legs and breasts to die for, instantly cuddled and caressed me. Various other things of a sexual nature happened, which culminated with Gina riding my son's big cock as I tongued her clit and his balls.

Gina then offered me my son's cock to either suck or ride. Knowing that my willpower to resist was hanging by an unravelling thread, I summoned the last of it together and managed to dress and stagger out to my car before I did the unthinkable and had sex with my son before those three.

When I started my car, Johnny stumbled out naked after me and jumped into the car.

Readers, I will continue with my story.

After getting in my car, Johnny stayed awake long enough to buckle his seatbelt before he passed out. Driving home, I bit my bottom lip as I watched my son's erect, deliciously long and thick cock gently swaying and bouncing to the car's movement. Eventually, I could no longer stand it and ran my fingers lightly over its head.

"Hmm," Johnny moaned as he pushed his hips up, trying to create more contact with my hand. Unable to resist, I wrapped my dainty hand around his shaft and gently pumped it. "Yes," my son groaned. "Suck it for me, baby, please."

That wasn't something I could do whilst driving home, so I gripped tighter and pumped faster. I got home, parked in our garage and saw that Johnny was about to cum. Unwilling to waste his delicious seed, I undid my belt, got on my knees, leaned over and took my son's hard cock into my mouth. As soon as he felt my tongue lashing his glans, Johnny held my head, groaned, and filled my mouth with his tasty semen. Once my son's orgasm ended, I licked and swallowed until I was sure I'd gathered all of his spend. Delighting in its taste, I smacked my lips and sat up.

Letting go of Johnny's slowly deflating cock, I tried to rouse him, but he was dead to the world. Because there was no way I could carry him, all I could do was leave Johnny to sleep off his drunken stupor and go to bed. Entering my room, I locked the door because I was in no mood to try and convince a drunken teenage male that he wasn't having my sweet pussy that night. If Johnny was sober, I might have considered letting him make love to me again, but I didn't want to be subjected to his inebriated, fumbling advances.

Sure enough, my door rattled around four hours later, waking me up. Finding my door locked, Johnny chuckled and said, "Thanks for coming and getting me, Mom. See you in the morning."

I woke sometime later, back to craving a smoke. But fearing another phase out, I ignored my craving. However, I sat up and propped myself against the headboard. I wanted to think more about why I'd suddenly started allowing sexual relations between myself and my children and why I had begun submitting sexually to every advance I received. Never before had I been so easily tripped into bed or compromising situations.

I knew my husband Sean's continual job promotions were part of the problem. As he climbed that corporate ladder into rarer and rarer air, his absences became more frequent and prolonged. What was worse was that his next promotion was likely to be to VP, and although that would be a real feather in my husband's cap, it would mean even more travel and a heavier workload.

'You need to start travelling with him,' I told myself. 'The kids are old enough to look after themselves, so your travelling with Sean won't be a problem. 'Plus', I added with a giggle. 'I'd get to shop in London, Paris and Rome!'

If Sean agreed to allow me to travel with him, it would cure a number of problems. The first, of course, being it would keep the slut Amanda, his secretary, out of his bed. I didn't mind Sean fucking her. As I've noted earlier, that is the price you pay to stay married to a rich, successful man. But she had designs on becoming Mrs Muggleton number two and supplanting me in Sean's bed permanently instead of only when my husband felt the need to empty his sack into her.

Second was that Sean often bemoaned Amanda's lack of poise and grace when she accompanied him to formal events. As we all know, most business dealings at the level my husband is at are done over a quiet drink and meal, not in the corporate office. Amanda's lack of elegance demeaned my husband and made him appear less than he was. Taking me to those events, and I say this with all due modesty, would mean he'd dazzle every man there and quite a few of the women, too.

Third, and with how I was at this moment, probably the most important, travelling with Sean would take me out of Edgar, Frank, Liz and Gina's clutches. Though, being under Gina's spell didn't bother me that much. If I brought Gina to our bed, Sean wouldn't object as long as he could partake of her delights, too. Of course, our son would, so that was off the table.

But none of the above is what had me concerned that morning. No, it was more that I suddenly seemed to be a lesbian. Every hot-looking woman that had come onto me since I attended the clinic, including my daughter Kristy, I'd joyously had sex with, and I couldn't understand why.

Yes, I had sex with my sisters and mother for my father's enjoyment. And, yes, I'd experimented with my best friend Cath Loughlin when we were teenagers. Plus, I'd brought women to our marital bed so I could titillate my husband with a lesbian fantasy show. But before my first visit to Edgar Fontaine's hypnosis clinic, where I let his receptionist Liz Donnelly have sex with me, I'd never indulged in lesbian sex for my own pleasure. I'd only ever done it for the men in my life.

An incident from my earlier life seemed important to my current situation, so I closed my eyes and relived my memories of that day.

Mobile phones were rare in Australia at the time of my remembered event, and the cost of using the few available was prohibitive. Plus, the network coverage was patchy at best. Most telephonic communication was by way of the good old house phone, or landline, if you prefer.

I thought my mother had gone grocery shopping because her car wasn't in our garage when I came home from school. So, taking advantage of my perceived rare aloneness, I took the portable phone up to my room and phoned my best friend, Cath Anderson. We chatted about the dreamy boys at our school and agreed that Sean Muggleton, the captain of our school's First Thirteen, and his best friend Mike Loughlin were amongst the dreamiest of them. As we bantered back and forth, describing what we'd let them do to us, I pulled my panties off and played with my love button.

That meant, of course, that I breached several house rules simultaneously. I hadn't stripped naked as soon as I walked through the door. I'd taken the phone to my room --probably the biggest breach of protocol. And I was playing with myself. Something I was only to do if my mother or father said I could. Masturbating to orgasm was exclusively done for my father's enjoyment or as a reward for serving him faithfully.

Mom could allow us to orgasm as a reward for exceptional behaviour if my father was absent on one of his many business trips.

It turned out that my father had taken Mom's car to be serviced, and she was home. She walked into my bedroom to collect the soiled sheets and other laundry items I should have already bundled for her to take and found me on my back with the soles of my feet pressed together and knees spread wide, thumbing my clitoris as I described to Cath what I wanted Sean Muggleton to do to me.

Of course, I had plenty of experience with all kinds of sexual activities other than penetrative sex, so I could fill my descriptions with vast amounts of salacious details. On the other side, Cath had been raised in a strict catholic family and had zero experience with the male anatomy, let alone sex.

"And exactly what do you think you're doing, young lady?" Mother said sternly from my bedroom door.

"Oh, shivers," I squeaked to Cath as I swiftly disconnected the call. Then, kneeling, I bowed my head and offered the phone to my mother. "Talking to my friend, Cath, on the phone, Ma'am," I admitted.

"Clothed and with your door shut? What are your father's rules regarding that, Miss Katie Ashley Shephard?" Mom asked.

Feeling about two centimetres tall, I stated, "We are to remove all clothing as soon as we have shut the front door and then carry them to our room and place them in our clothes hamper. Our doors are to remain open at all times so that Dad and you can monitor our behaviour, Ma'am."

"Regarding the house phone, Miss Katie?" Mom questioned.

"I am only to use it in your or Dad's presence to ensure I don't try to hook up with boys, Ma'am," I replied meekly.

"Masturbating?"

"I'm allowed to only when permitted to by Dad or you. Typically I'm given permission to to reward my good behaviour, Ma'am."

"And your behaviour today, Katie Ashley Shephard, has it been good?" Mom asked, knowing it hadn't been.

"No, Ma'am," I swiftly acknowledged. "I have committed several breaches of protocol and must be corrected to ensure my bad behaviour does not become ingrained."

"Go to your father's study and select an appropriate cane for your correction, Miss Katie. Bring it to my room once you've made your choice."

Standing, I swiftly disrobed, ran downstairs to Dad's office, and selected a cane. I didn't pay any attention to which one and took the closest to hand. Racing back to my mother's bedroom, I stopped outside until I got my breathing under control, then stepped through the door.

Walking through the door with my eyes downcast, I closed it and immediately knelt. Then I held the cane above my head, bowed and said, "This worthless piece of female flesh had chosen her correction's instrument, Ma'am. She apologises for her atrocious behaviour and promises she will do better in the future."

"Katie, you are always apologetic for your bad behaviour," my mother said severely. "Yet, you continue to exhibit it. How do you expect to find a strong man to serve if you continue to act like a brat? No, Katie, this sluttish behaviour ends today, or I will cane you until your ass and breasts are black and blue."

I knew my mother's question was rhetorical, so I remained kneeling and quiet, looking down.

Sighing, Mom said, "Assume correction position one, Katie. I will administer five corrections on your breasts, followed by five more on your behind. You will thank me for each correction."

If you remember, position one is standing looking down, with my feet spread shoulder width apart, my hands behind my head, and my elbows back.

Predictably, Mom's first strike hit both of my nipples simultaneously. "One, thank you, Ma'am." I intoned. Her second was on the underside of my generous mounds. "Two, thank you, Ma'am." The third was slightly below the second. "Three, thank you, Ma'am," I said softly, trying not to allow my arousal to show in my voice. Number four struck across my nipples again. It was swiftly followed by a fifth in the same spot. "Four and five, thank you, Ma'am," I said, my voice barely short of a moan of desire.

"Turn," Mom demanded.

Turning until my backside faced my mother, I bent at the hips, placed my hands on my thighs for support, and arched my back so that my ass was presented sexily to my mother.

I heard a whistle as Mom swung the cane at my ass. The cane was a long, slender length of bamboo that flexed and acted like a whip when swung. Wincing, I quietly said, "One, thank you, Ma'am." Mom's second strike was across the backs of both upper thighs and stung like crazy. I wanted to twitch away and complain, but I gasped, "Two, thank you, Ma'am."

"Would you like to be excused from your last three corrections, Miss Katie?" Mom asked.

I'd have preferred to receive my last three strikes and be done, but that wasn't the required response. So I submissively replied, "Yes, Ma'am. What would you have this piece of cock receiving meat do instead?"

"Lick me to orgasm, Katie," Mom demanded. "You may masturbate and climax when I do."

I knee-walked across to my mother and then looked submissively up at her as I tongued her tangy pussy. Grabbing a handful of my hair, Mom moaned and ground her clit and entrance against my lips and mouth.

"That's it, baby," Mom groaned. "Suck on my clit and lap where you came out of."

My mother was totally into the fantasy of her daughters sexually stimulating the area we'd exited from, so her words weren't shocking, and I did as asked, swiftly bringing her to a crashing orgasm.

My correction over, I said, "I apologise for forcing you to correct me, Mother. Your baby girl will endeavour to be better behaved from now on."

"Do you need to cum, Katie?" Mom asked.

"Yes, please," I replied.

"Lie on your side and lift your top leg as high as possible," Mom demanded.

When I complied, Mom knelt between my thighs and pressed her soakingly wet pussy against mine and then ground against me until we exploded into an orgasm.

Thinking about having sex with my father and later with my mother after being corrected gave me some insight to begin unravelling the reasons for my current behaviour. It seemed that after my first session at the clinic, I felt the need to be corrected for my bad behaviour. However, I wasn't able to communicate that need to anyone, so I sought out situations where I put myself in someone's power, hoping that they would correct me and then forgive me for my actions.

Of course, they didn't know I was seeking correction. They only knew that I was willing to let them dominate me. That led them to take liberties with me that they wouldn't have if I weren't so willingly submissive. Which, of course, led to more bad behaviour and the need for further correction.

'What you need, Mrs Katie,' I told myself. 'Is a Master or Mistress!'

I had plenty of people wanting the role, that was for sure! Liz Donnelly, Frank Pritchard, Siobhan, Gina Matthews, and even my son, all showed dominance over me when we played sex games together. My husband, Sean, was the clear candidate to take over my father's role as the monitor and corrector of my behaviour. However, I doubted he had the time even when he was at home. And what would happen if he was away for an extended period again? Over the time of my described misdeeds, Sean had been home for less than six days in five weeks and wouldn't be home for at least two more.

Gina was less future trouble than Liz or Frank, but I, despite all my recent liaisons with women, didn't think I was a lesbian. I'm clearly bisexual, but my preferences lean strongly toward men. Thinking the possibilities through, I discounted accepting my son's girlfriend as my Mistress.

That meant that none of the people currently holding dominion over me were suitable to be my Master or Mistress. Which led to another problem --how do I get out from under their thrall? Of course, once I found a suitable cane holder, I could confess my actions to them and leave them to rescue me from the clutches of the others.

As I mused, I heard my door rattle. Finding it locked, Kristy called, "You okay in there, Mom?"

Swinging my feet out of bed, I crossed to the door, put my long silk nightie on and opened the door. "I'm fine, baby girl," I told her as I reclined against the headboard again. "I got up really early morning to bring your drunk brother home from Gina's place."

"Why didn't he just stay the night?" Kristy rightfully asked.

However, I thought Johnny's reasons weren't mine to explain, so I shrugged, smiled and teased, "Even you need your mommie from time to time."

Climbing onto the bed and snuggling into my side, Kristy laid her head on my shoulder, then sighed and said, "I sure do, Mom. I thought that playing with you as we have would ease my desires. But, instead, I get hornier every time we play."

"Then I think we need to take some time and explore more, honey," I said, using my curled finger under Kristy's chin to tilt her face up so I could kiss her soft, pouting lips. "But we need to be careful not to reveal what we're doing to your brother or father."

"Speaking of, Dad," my daughter replied. "Have you thought any more of allowing him to be my first and helping me seduce him?"

I had, but I wasn't prepared to tell her what yet. I needed more time to encourage my husband to fully explore his fantasies about his daughter and admit them to me before I could progress my plans. With him being away, that, of course, was impossible.

Sean had phoned home twice since leaving to check in and ensure the house hadn't burnt down with us in it. I realise that most wives would expect more, but I knew I had to allow my husband the freedom to be whom and what he needed to be during these trips, or he'd likely decide his wife and family were an impediment to his career and divorce me. Sean isn't cold or unemotional but is intensely focused on advancing his career and would swiftly cast aside anything that impeded that. So the fact he doesn't call home much during his trips is a non-issue as far as I'm concerned.

Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything to deter or distract my daughter from her intentions, so I shook my head and admitted that I hadn't yet.

As we'd chatted, Kristy's hand had found my big, firm breast, and she was idly kneading it as she rolled my nipple softly between her thumb and forefinger. Knowing my door was unlocked and fearing Johnny's propensity to come barging at the most inopportune time, I flicked my daughter's nipple and said, "Come on, let me up, and I'll go and make breakfast. What do you want?"

Twisting mine in revenge, Kristy giggled and said, "I feel like a big plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns, Mom. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," I answered, swatting her bottom when she stood.