‘You’re home early, Darling,’ said Margaret, extending her arms to give me a hug.

‘Well, I wondered I’d surprise you.’ I kissed her. Margaret opened her mouth to let my tongue wrestle with hers, but wriggled out of my grip when I reached up under her blouse to unhook her bra.

‘Sorry, Mum’s here,’ she giggled. ‘You’ll just have to control yourself.’

Ever since Margaret had submitted to our good friend Lachlan the previous weekend, we’d been having terrific sex. The memory of that night was still fresh, so fresh that I found it hard to focus at work. The slightest lapse in concentration, and erotic images flooded my mind: Margaret stripping at Lachlan’s command, bent over while his fingers explored her vagina and anus, on her back on his and Pam’s bed with her ankles crossed behind his ears while he pounded into her, screaming in ecstasy as wave after wave of orgasm racked her body. And that had just been the begin. I glanced down at my trouser fly to check my erection was not too obvious and followed Margaret through to the kitchen.

Jean, Margaret’s mother, was perched on a stool at the breakfast bar sipping a glass of white wine. Her eyes strayed to my crotch as I took the stool beside her, and she smiled knowingly.

‘Good afternoon, James.’ She tilted her head for me to kiss her, opening her mouth and slipping her tongue into mine as our lips met.

As those gentle readers who have been following our stories will know, there were few secrets between mother and daughter. Not only was our sex life and that of her parents increasingly open books, but we had also participated in theirs and they in our ours. Cosanguinamory sex between closely related consenting adults is illegal in Australia. We hadn’t completely crossed that line but had come close. Clarence, Margaret’s father had spanked and caned her while I watched; I had stripped and bound Margaret in Japanese bondage for their entertainment, and we had watched them make love before visiting a sex club. They had also read all of our stories on Literotica, after Margaret had sent them the link. As an adult, Margaret had become increasingly aware of her parents taste for kinky sex. A taste she now enthusiastically shared.

‘That was nice, dear,’ said Jean, as our mouths parted. By the flushed look on her face and the grin on Margaret’s, her exploits in Lachlan’s bed had obviously been the subject of their afternoon’s conversation.

‘Margaret’s been telling me all the wonderful details that you left out of the version you posted on Literotica. I can not wait to tell Clarence. It’s gonna be a long, hot, hard night. Thank you!’

Indeed! I had not written about many of the things that had happened that evening. Not of the sharing of her body, nor of the climaxing in her mouth or the anal sex. After we had each taken her individually, she had pleasured us simultaneously, using whichever of her hands, mouth or other openings were unoccupied. The only thing we had not attempted was double penetration, and not because Margaret was unwilling, but because Lachlan and I were too satiated to be able to attempt it. No, I had not written of those things, not because I was afraid that readers might discover them unbelievable, but because I had difficulty believing them myself. Even Lachlan and Pam had sat unusually quiet over coffee afterwards. Lachlan had called me the following day to admit they were both awed by Margaret’s reaction. No woman of his experience, indulging in swinging and multi-partner sex for the first time, had ever behaved so enthusiastically as Margaret.

She had been equally surprised by her own behaviour, which was primarily why we had not yet discussed the full implications of what we had done. Were we both afraid that we had uncaged something within Margaret that threatened to overwhelm us? Was I the luckiest man in the world, or riding a tiger that would turn and devour me? Irrespective, the sex since that night had been incredible. With the memories still fresh in our heads we had fallen on each other daily, making love with an intensity that we had not felt since our first heady attempts at sex, but with the staying power and prolongation of experience and maturity. It was a second honeymoon that neither of us ever wanted to end.

‘Do you plan to go on wearing the slave collar?’ asked Jean, interrupting my erotic reverie.

Margaret fingered the stainless band that Lachlan had locked around her neck. ‘He returned my rings,’ she held up her left hand to display them, ‘but we haven’t discussed the collar yet.’

‘Perhaps he intends for you to keep wearing it,’ Jean chuckled. ‘You might have to get used to having two husbands. What would you think about that, James?’

‘We’ll just have to burn that bridge when we get there,’ I replied. Lachlan had no intention of making Margaret wear the slave collar, or of exercising any of the rights that it might imply. He had already given me the code for the combination lock. I could have removed it at any time, but I was enjoying fueling Margaret’s anxiety. Whatever misgivings she had, the wondered that Lachlan might intend to repeat her submission of the previous Saturday was a powerful aphrodisiac — for both of us.

‘Well, if you’re gonna wear slave jewelry, Margaret, I’ve got a present for you in the car.’ Jean handed me her keys. ‘There’s a box on the passenger seat. Thank you.’

The box was covered in red tooled leather and opened to reveal a series of compartments. Margaret gasped when she saw the contents.

‘Mum! Have you actually worn all of these?’

‘Of course, Darling. At numerous times I had both nipples pierced, as well as my clitoral hood and multiple piercings of my inner and outer labia. There are barbells and rings for them, all in gold and silver, and chains that your father used to link all the piercings together. There are locks for the labia rings… your father used to carry the key on a chain around his neck and unlock me for sex… and a longer length of chain for use as a lead. You’ll also discover several engraved disks with his name on them, which he attached to the labia rings to denote my status as an owned submissive. I don’t wear them anymore. But we’d like you to have them.’

‘Dad wants me to wear those?’ There was a note of disbelief in Margaret’s voice.

‘Only if you and James decide that you’d like to. After reading about your slave fantasy, we wondered you’d like to have them.’

As part of submitting to him, Lachlan had asked Margaret to relate several of her masturbation fantasies. In one of them she had described being the submissive wife of a man who had her pierced and ringed, and then chained her naked to the terrace of his house for his guests to enjoy.

Jean saw the shocked look on Margaret’s face and chuckled. ‘You’re not the only one who has such fantasies, Darling.’

‘But you…?’

‘Don’t look so shocked dear. Yes, we did. Just like Sir Stephen and the Commander do with O, although I usually wore just a plain face mask. And your father all the time waited until everyone else was finished before taking me himself. Not like your fantasy lover, though, who could only climax by masturbating.’

‘How many…?’ Margaret’s face had flushed pink, and her eyes were round.

‘Men? And women too. Lots. But sometimes I wasn’t the only one chained to the terrace. Anyway, I don’t think I should be giving away too many of my secrets. James will think I’m a sex maniac.’

‘I think it’s a bit late for that, Jean,’ I said winking at her. ‘I take it you’re not still pierced anywhere?’

‘What you mean is you didn’t see any when you all had a good gawk at me naked.’ Jean laughed. ‘No. They all grew over some years’ ago.’

‘Weren’t they painful? I mean when there done.’ I asked.

‘Surely they apply some kind of anesthetic,’ said Margaret.

‘No dear, we have to suffer for our art.’

‘You mean you had to suffer for Dad’s art.’

‘It’s not that bad, really. To be honest, having your nipples pierced is the most painful.’

‘What! Even more than… you know where,’ said Margaret.

‘Yes. The nipple’s thicker. The skin on the labia might be sensitive, but it’s very thin. The needles go through more easily. It all depends on your pain tolerance. For a woman, after experiencing childbirth, it’s not much worse than having a canula inserted.’

‘And afterwards?’ asked Margaret.

‘They take a while to heal. You won’t want to be suspending weights from them for a few months. But once they are healed, the fun you can have is amazing. A vertical barbell through the hood rubs against your clitoris. Makes life very interesting, and not just during sex. Honestly Margaret, I’d recommend giving it a go. Your father would love it if you wore some of the same jewelry I did, and maybe even one of his tags. James will want you to wear something personal of his, of course.’

‘Mmmm. I’m not sure. How is it done anyway? With a gun, like having your ears pierced?’

‘No, dear. It’s a special hollow needle. Once it’s pierced the skin, the end of the ring or the barbell is slotted into the blunt end and follows through as the needle is drawn through the hole. It’s done by hand.’

‘By a woman, of course.’

Jean laughed. ‘Don’t be so coy, Margaret. Having it done by a man is all part of the experience. Naked is better, too. He’s gonna see and touch you anyway. I found the whole thing quite arousing. Helped with the pain as well.’ She checked her wristwatch. ‘Heavens, look at the time, Clarence will be waiting at the door. He’s promised me a spanking this evening.’

Jean slipped off her stool and gave Margaret a hug and a kiss. I escorted her out to her car.

‘Try and persuade her to get pierced, James. She’ll thank you for it once it’s done.’ She reached for my arm and drew me close. ‘Her father really would love to see her wear those rings of mine,’ she whispered. ‘Now, give a sexy senior citizen a kiss.’ Our mouths fused for the second time that afternoon and my penis responded with the beginnings of an erection. ‘You dodged me last time,’ she chuckled. ‘But I’m determined to have you eventually. You know that Margaret won’t mind, and Clarence… well you know him, he’s champing at the bit to see you take me.’

I waved her goodbye and waited until the car turned the corner out of sight. She had offered to have sex with me after she and Clarence had watched me bind Margaret into Japanese bondage. I wasn’t shocked by the idea, Jean was, even in her sixties, a very attractive woman. But it had seemed, and still did seem, to be a step too far. Instead, I had suggested to Clarence that they return the favour and put on a show for us. As a result, they had allowed us to watch them make love. That would not be the end of it. Clarence was obviously determined to draw us further into the games of dominance and control he played with Jean. No doubt he would enjoy seeing his adult daughter pierced with the rings and chains of an odalisque. I would enjoy it too. Now I just had to persuade Margaret.

I rejoined her in the kitchen, to discover her examining the jewelry.

‘Changing your mind?’

‘I’ll think about. The idea’s exciting though.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s making me wet. God, just the idea of my mother wearing it all makes me wet. Everything makes me wet at the moment. By the way, Lachlan called earlier. He and Pam would like to come over for dinner on Saturday.’

‘And?’

‘I don’t know, he didn’t say.’

‘You didn’t ask?’

‘Ask what? Am I gonna wear your collar for the rest of my life? Are you gonna fuck me again like you did last week?’

‘I wondered you enjoyed it.’

Margaret placed the jewelry back into its box, crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. ‘I think we need a drink.’ She poured two large glasses and took a hefty swig.

‘Did I enjoy it? Being stripped of all modesty, opened and probed for inspection and then subjected to the most intense fucking of my life?’ She shook her head again and smiled. ‘Yes. I did enjoy it. Maybe too much. And that bothers me.’

I opened my mouth to respond, but she held a finger to my lips.

‘No let me finish. I need to get this out into the open. I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I can see now how cunning evolution really is. We’re programmed we humans, to satisfy our basic needs for the primary purpose of passing on our genes. Evolution has programmed us for sex so that we can make babies and populate the planet.’ She took another large swig. ‘But you know what occurred to me while you were double teaming me? That evolution doesn’t give a damn about whose sperm actually does the fertilizing. There came a point where the fact that I was married to you, that I love you, that I have two gorgeous children with you, just didn’t mean a damned thing. I was so aroused, so just… programmed for sex, that nothing else mattered. All I wanted was a cock inside me, any cock. I took you both, and if there’d been more cocks, if half-a-dozen more men had walked through the door, I’d have taken them too. And loved every fucking moment of it. How do you feel about that, eh? It frightens me, I can tell you. Or at least it frightens one part of me. There’s another woman inside who’s telling me that she enjoyed it so much that she wants to do it over and over again. If I give into her, I might spend the rest of my life surrounded by erect cocks. That’s not so bad, she tells me, you’ll have a ball. But what about falling pregnant, catching the clap and not caring for my loving husband, I say to her. So far, we haven’t reached consensus.’

She took another swig of wine and watched me over the rim of the glass.

‘From the sound of it, your parents have enjoyed that lifestyle for years, and it doesn’t seem to have had any ill effects on them,’ I said.

‘If you want me to be like my mother! She’s had sex with hundreds of men. Why don’t you just sleep with her. She wants you to and Dad won’t object.’

‘That’s what she just said, but that’s not what I meant. I’m not asking you to have sex with hundreds of men. I’m only making the point that perhaps it is efficient to reconcile those conflicting voices. We’ve already pushed our boundaries and it hasn’t done us any harm. I’m happy to push them further, but only if you are.’

She fingered the slave collar. ‘So… you’re saying I should agree to whatever Lachlan wants tomorrow?’

‘Why don’t you wait and see what he wants.’ I grinned. I didn’t know what he wanted either, but I was looking forward to seeing his face when he saw that Margaret was still wearing the collar. ‘Look, wearing a slave collar doesn’t mean you’re his slave. I’m sure it’s all meant in fun. To be honest though, I’ve enjoyed your wearing it this week. The sex has been wonderful. I’d almost be disappointed if you took it off.’

Margaret’s deep, throaty chuckle was music to my ears. ‘It has been wonderful. Every time I see it or touch it, it reminds me of what we did. I can see the attraction. I know it’s totally ridiculous and bordering on misogyny, but the wondered of submitting like that, to be available for sex or whatever and whenever Lachlan wants, is such an exciting fantasy.’ She reached for my hand. ‘Come on let’s go to bed. I don’t need any fantasy lovers when I’ve got the real thing.’ She tugged at the collar and chuckled again. ‘If you buy me a gold version of this, I’ll be your fantasy slave. I’ll let you have me pierced and wear all the nipple and labia jewelry too. I think I’ll look good decorated in gold rings and chains.’ She laughed. ‘You could hang bells on them at Christmas and I’d jingle as I walked about in the nude.’ She tugged at my hand. ‘Come on, you can send out for pizza later.’

The remainder of the week seemed to crawl by. When Saturday evening finally arrived, Margaret was pacing the lounge like a hungry lioness while we waited for Lachlan and Pam to show up.

‘Relax,’ I said, handing her a stiff gin and tonic. ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘That’s what the other woman in my head is telling me. She keeps whispering all manner of filth about the nasty things you and Lachlan and gonna do to me this evening. I’m having trouble keeping her caged.’ She smoothed a hand over her hair. ‘Do I look all right?’

‘You look lovely. Elegant, but very sexy. Now stop pacing and sit down. There’ll be here soon enough.’

Not wanting to give Lachlan the impression she was automatically gonna play the submissive, Margaret had decided against wearing her corset and Roissy costume. Instead, she wore a blue satin cocktail dress with a plunging backline, a low-back black bra, matching panties and stockings. She was halfway through the gin and tonic when the doorbell rang and leapt to her feet like a scalded cat.

‘They’re here,’ she said, unnecessarily.

‘I’ll get the door.’

Lachlan greeted me with a strong handshake and Pam with a less than chaste kiss on the mouth. Lachlan was casually dressed in a blue striped oxford shirt, cream chinos and loafers. Pam looked mouthwatering in a pale green bodycon dress that accentuated every delectable curve, with no visible panty or bra lines.

They followed me into the lounge room, and I watched Lachlan’s eyes light up when he saw the stainless-steel slave collar still around Margaret’s neck. After she had kissed Pam, Lachlan pulled her close and wrapped his arms about her. ‘You look beautiful, Margaret. May I kiss you?’

‘Of course, you may,’ said Margaret, tilting her head and puckering her lips.

Lachlan stroked her naked back as he kissed her. ‘I see you’re prepared for anything,’ he said, running the fingers of his other hand around the collar. ‘Why don’t we run a preparatory test. Are you wearing panties, Margaret?’

‘Er… yes.’

‘Well take them off and hand them to me. Here in front of us.’

Margaret’s laugh had a nervous edge. Bending, she reached up under the dress, slid her panties down over her knees and dropped them to the floor. Stepping out of them, she bobbed down to pick them up and handed them to a grinning Lachlan.

‘There now, that was easy.’ He raised the panties to his nose and took a deliberate sniff. ‘Mmmm. You do smell nice.’ He rubbed the delicate material against his cheek. ‘Damp too. You were naked last time for us Margaret. Might as well begin as we mean to go on.’ He extended a hand. ‘Come on, let’s have the rest of your kit off.’

Margaret’s head dropped and she emitted a deep sigh. I wondered she was about to refuse, but when she raised her head, her jaw was set with determination.

‘After what you both did to me last Saturday, I’ve nothing left to hide. I’ll be naked for you, but that doesn’t mean I’m up for a repeat of the entire performance. There’s also a dinner in the oven. You’ll at least have to let me wear an apron, so I don’t burn any sensitive bits.’ She reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and started to raise it.

‘Stop! Stop!’ said Lachlan, breaking into laughter. ‘Sorry, Margaret. I’m just messing with you. Here.’ He reached for the collar and twirled the combination lock. It sprang open. Lachlan removed it and handed it to Pam to stow in her handbag.

‘You’re a helluva sport, Margaret, but we didn’t come expecting a repeat of last Saturday,’ he said, taking her hands in his. ‘There is something we want to ask you, but it can wait until after dinner.’ He raised Margaret’s hands to his lips and kissed them. ‘And don’t worry. I’m not gonna ask you to submit or wear the collar again.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’

‘But you did enjoy it, right?’ He winked at her.

‘Yes.’ She let go of his hands to fan her face. ‘Goodness Lachlan, you’ve made me blush. Whatever you think of me after what happened, I’m still not entirely comfortable being naked around other people, and I’m definitely not used to having sex with them. I’m not saying I’m uncomfortable with nudity per se, I’m not a prude, and the sex was wonderful, but…’