(Susie, with her mother Sally’s support, has started playing back the video evidence she had recorded remotely, showing her husband Johnny and his mother Jeanine in the act.)

No one said a word as the four of them watched Johnny’s cum spatter all over his mother. They sat mesmerized through the obscene comedy of the clean up. But when Jeanine saw herself offering her naked breasts to her son, panic overcame her. Coming to her senses, she knew what came next: the ultimate taboo.

“Stop it!” she cried out suddenly, rising to her feet frantically. “Turn it off! Turn it off!” She lurched toward the TV, but Sally grabbed her arm, spinning her around so that she fell on her ass. “Nooo… Please stop it,” she cried again, beginning to sob not just from shame but also from frustration, helpless to prevent her further degradation.

Johnny just stared at the TV, stony-faced, hardly blinking. His mind was spinning, calculating, desperately seeking a way out; surely there was some way to explain this… “It’s not what it looks like,” or “That wasn’t me,” or, something;…drugs? alcohol?… He was shriveling up inside, closing down all emotion, all feeling; how will I survive this? he thought numbly.

Neither of the lovers was watching any longer when their consummate act of congress unfolded on screen. They tried to close their ears to the sounds of passion, the grunts, the moans. Sally watched with grim satisfaction as she plotted her maneuvers, while Susie absorbed the scene with a growing rage that she managed to channel into a thirst for revenge. Not just revenge, but a determination to destroy the arrogant son of a bitch she had married. Whether their marriage would survive remained to be seen, but, if so, it would be complete transformed.

The video ended. Sally stood up and said, “Well, wasn’t that interesting? Who’s ready for dinner?” quite as if they’d been watching a documentary. “I’m hungry.” She walked toward the kitchen. When nobody moved, she lowered her voice menacingly and said, “Get in the kitchen. Now!”

The two miscreants got up and followed her silently. Susie was already there, microwaving the tepid servings. They sat at the table and Susie brought the food to each of them and sat down.

“I don’t like Chine…” Johnny began.

“Shut up!” Sally snapped. “You’ll eat this or you won’t eat anything at all.”

“Hey!” Johnny sputtered angrily, “This is my house and…”

Sally interrupted him again. “Not for long if you don’t toe the line, sonny. What do you think will happen in divorce court when your video is shown as evidence?”

That shut him up. But he didn’t touch his food. Jeanine was just sort of moving her food around the plate idly with her fork. Sally dug in energetically as if to show them how to do it; it tasted pretty good for takeout. And Susie began eating quite happily, having seen how her mother handled Johnny. ‘I wish I could do that,’ she wondered, in wonder.

Finally, Jeanine spoke up. “What are you going to do to us?” she asked timidly.

Susie decided it was time to assert herself. “We’re going to punish you, of course,” she said simply. It felt good to talk like this; she felt empowered, although she was relying on her mother’s lead.

Johnny stared at her in surprise; was there a hint of fear, or was it just newfound admiration? Meanwhile, Jeanine glanced anxiously at Sally, who made a show of chowing down nonchalantly.

“Johnny!” Susie said harshly. “You’d better eat your supper or you’ll be going to bed hungry. You’re not going to get anything else.”

Johnny looked at his wife sullenly, stifling his seething anger in light of the deep disgrace he had finally admitted he could not escape. It was so humiliating!

He picked up his fork and skewered a slim slice of beef. He was surprised that he actually liked the taste. He chewed it warily and then took another forkful. He ate the rest without opinion. Susie watched him. So stubborn, she wondered, like a bratty teenager.

Sally had finished eating and was watching Jeanine like a cat watches a canary. Her predatory look was not lost on Susie, whose newfound appreciation of her mother’s dominance had become a source of inspiration. Jeanine was still playing with her food, occasionally spearing a vegetable and chewing it half-heartedly.

Sally broke the silence. “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, Jeanine. Really you don’t. I don’t have time to for you to fool around. We have business, you and I.” She stood up. “Now come along.”

Jeanine put down her fork and got up. “Where are you taking me?” she asked docilely. She was fully resigned to the fact that Sally and Susie held all the cards and she was prepared to do anything she had to do to keep her shame a secret, with no doubt that Sally wouldn’t hesitate to ruin her life if she felt like it.

“Nowhere yet. Come here,” said Sally, standing in the kitchen doorway. Jeanine took the few steps and stood in front of Sally with her back to the table where their kids were watching, Susie willing and Johnny still sullen.

“I’m going to punish you,” Sally announced, “starting with a beating.” Jeanine blanched but held her tongue. “Do you know why, slut?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeanine whispered.

“Tell me, then.” Sally had been looking forward to degrading the sexy MILF in front of her son.

Jeanine began to sweat. She tried to think quickly. “For my failure as a mother,” she finally said in a tiny voice.

“You’ll have to speak up, bitch. Say it again.”

“For my failure a a mother,” Jeanine repeated in a louder but quavering voice.

Susie grinned; Johnny remained expressionless.

“Yes, you are a failure,” Sally allowed, speaking slowly and patiently, “but surely that doesn’t warrant a beating. You do deserve to be punished, don’t you?”

Jeanine felt cornered. Knowing there was no escaping Sally’s clutches, she answered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I deserve to be punished,” she said, looking Sally in the eye for the first time, almost defiant.

“I liked it when you called me ma’am. Say it again, this time with respect!” Sally commanded sharply.

“Yes, ma’am, I deserve to be punished, ma’am,” Jeanine said, her eyes downcast again and brimming with tears.

“What for? What have you done?” Sally said, taunting her.

“I…” she stalled, trying to discover words she dared to speak that would satisfy her tormentor. “I’ve been…” She was gonna say “naughty”, but she remembered how Sally had derided that word. “I’ve behaved in a lewd and lascivious manner,” she managed to come up with, a phrase from the police procedurals she sometimes watched.

Sally laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. She shook her head as if she were tired of this game. “Give me your panties,” she said sternly, holding out her hand.

“What?” Jeanine said, looking stunned.

“You heard me, slut. Take your panties off and hand them to me. I want to see them.”

Susie and Johnny watched silently as this drama unfolded, but with markedly different reactions.

Jeanine shamefully complied, reaching under her skirt, pulling them down and stepping out of them. She put the skimpy bundle in Sally’s hand.

Sally made a brief show of examining the slimy gusset. “Whose cum is this?” she asked, holding the panties up to Jeanine’s face.

“It’s Johnny’s, ma’am,” she said quietly, slightly repulsed by the smell. Then, with an edge of anger, she added, “You know it is.”

Sally slapped her face. Johnny flinched almost as much as his mother did.

“Don’t you sass me, you fucking whore!” Sally said with palpable vehemence. “Now, say it plainly, for all of us to hear,” she instructed, “Why do you deserve to be punished?”

Jeanine sobbed. “Because I fucked my son. Because I fucked him… Johnny. I committed incest with my little boy!” She started weeping. Johnny was aghast, but he made no move; Susie was grinning with vicarious glee and with growing admiration of her mother’s masterful performance.

“There, see? Was that so hard?” Sally said pedantically. “Now we can move on. I’m going to help you.” She brandished the soggy panties again. “Now who does Johnny’s cum rightfully belong to?” she asked Jeanine with exaggerated patience.

A moment of confusion clouded Jeanine’s tear-stained face. “Susie?”

“So, you admit that you’re a cum thief. Take them,” she said, handing the soiled panties to Jeanine, “Give them to Susie and beg her for forgiveness.”

Jeanine, with her panties in hand, turned and carried them to where Susie sat smirking imperiously. She held out her hand, offering her panties to her daughter-in-law. She had no idea what Sally wanted her to say, but she was determined to satisfy her by any means necessary. “I’m sorry, Susie. This belong to you.”

Susie saw her mother roll her eyes at that feeble effort. Taking it as a cue, she sat up taller and said with the utmost disdain, “You’re sorry?!” She ignored the proffered panties. “What the fuck, Jeanine!” She shook her head, her contempt clear as day. “You ought to be on your knees, you fucking whore! Don’t tell me you’re ‘sorry’; you disgust me!”

“Susie…” Johnny interjected cautiously, wanting to somehow intercede for his mom. But Susie turned with such a viscous glare that he faltered.

“Shut the fuck up, motherfucker!” She said the word slowly with emphasis to make the meaning literal. “You know what? Go away. Upstairs. Go to your room and wait for me.” He got up, looking frightened. She glared at him until he was out of the room. They could hear him mounting the stairs.

Jeanine was on her knees now beside Susie’s chair. She looked small and vulnerable despite her ample, womanly figure. Her face looked older somehow, ravaged with guilt and blotched makeup. She was still clutching the panties. Now she lifted them up to Susie like a sort of atonement.

“I’m not going to touch your disgusting panties!” Susie growled at her cowering mother-in-law. “Drop them! On the floor.” She kicked them across the floor towards the trash can. “They’re going in the trash where they belong.”

Sally laughed. “Is that where you belong too, Jeanine?” She stepped over to where Jeanine knelt. In a deadly serious tone, she said, “Are you trash?”

Jeanine sobbed again. She did feel worthless and disgusting. How could anyone see her any other way if they knew what she had done? And yet, in some perverse corner of her mind, there was still a defiant streak, almost proud of what she had done. There remained a physical memory, an imprint in her pussy of Johnny’s girth and the pulsing cum he had gifted her. Surely it wasn’t as depraved as everyone seemed to think. All she needed was an excuse. “It wasn’t my fault,” she said shakily.

“What?!” Sally shouted, deliberately overreacting; she was prepared for Jeanine’s prevarication. “Someone else made you spread your legs and fuck your own son?”

“It was the wine… I was drunk,” Jeanine said, trying to hold on to her defiance in the face of Sally’s unyielding assault.

Sally snorted. “You were perfectly coherent. Want to watch it again?”

“No, ma’am.” Jeanine’s defiance was spent.

“Well, maybe you’re not actually trash, Jeanine, but you’re certainly not a mother, are you?” she asked rhetorically. “I mean, who has sex with their own offspring? Not human mothers.” She paused to let that sink in. “That’s what animals do, isn’t it, Jeanine? Are you an animal?”

“No, ma’am.”

“You behave like an animal. Maybe you need to be treated like one!” Sally gripped the opening of Jeanine’s blouse with both hands and ripped it open; the buttons went flying. “Animals don’t wear clothes, Jeanine. Stand up!”

Jeanine lumbered to her feet, her large bra-encased breasts swaying lewdly between the open flaps of her ruined blouse. Sally reached around her and yanked the blouse off and tossed it toward where the panties lay. “Take off your bra,” she commanded while tugging her victim’s skirt down over her soft, white thighs. Jeanine reached behind her back with both hands to unclasp her bra, effectively thrusting her breasts in Sally’s face.

Sally was already in an aroused state from the sadistic pleasure of controlling and abusing the woman. As she stooped to pull Jeanine’s skirt down over her knees to her ankles, her nose was only inches from the cleft between those massive, swaying udders that had suddenly tumbled free. She could smell them; Jeanine’s recent exertion of fucking had left its sweaty smell, arousing her and exciting her with the prospect of torturing them.

Jeanine had acquiesced completely and was now meekly complying with the taller woman’s every demand. But as she was being stripped, as her naked body was being revealed to the eyes of her oppressor, her numb obedience began to evolve. She found each act of submission easier than the last, easier because there was a perverse and palpable pleasure in it. Added of that was her suspicion that Sally was sexually attracted to her. She deliberately thrust her big boobies at her to test that hypothesis. If she could arouse Sally sexually, she reasoned, that might level the playing field and return some control.

Sally straighten up, tossed the skirt on the discard pile, and slapped Jeanine’s left breast hard making a resounding “smack!” Jeanine flinched in pain and looked up into Sally’s face questioningly.

“Don’t tease me, you fucking cow!” Sally growled, and slapped her other boob even harder, leaving a red handprint on the snowy flesh and raising the nipples long and hard.

Jeanine gasped, more from arousal than pain, recognizing her miscalculation. Sally had a sadistic streak; arousing her was only gonna make her more cruel. But it didn’t matter to her now; she wanted the abuse; she needed more.

“Go get my bag out of the back of my car,” she commanded the naked woman.

“But I…” Jeanine started to protest, but Sally cut her short.

“But nothing. Do as I say or you’ll regret it. No one’s out there to see you, and if there was, what would they see? Some old naked whore. Nobody cares. It’s getting dark anyway.” She opened the hatchback remotely.

Jeanine straightened her back and went, obediently, returning in a moment with a long duffle bag. Sally led her into the living room. Susie followed.

“Did you close the hatch?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl,” Sally said. Jeanine colored slightly at the unexpected praise. Sally knew that praise was just as effective as punishment to achieve her goals.

“Now, open the bag,” Sally instructed, is if speaking to a simpleton or a very young child. “Now, take out a towel and put it over the ottoman.” Jeanine pulled out a white full-sized bath towel, one of a pair, under which lay an assortment of items. She carefully laid the towel over the rectangular padded footstool, bending over it to straighten the towel smooth. Sally ogled the fat folds of her labia as they peeked out between her thick thighs.

Jeanine stood up and turned toward Sally. “Perfect,” Sally said. “Now, lie down over it, on your stomach.”

The momentary pleasure Jeanine had felt at completing her task to Sally’s approval evaporated, leaving the underlying submissive arousal with an overlay now of anxious suspense. She knew she had to comply. She wanted to. She knew her ass would be exposed and vulnerable. She knelt and draped her naked body over the towel-covered upholstery with her head down over the far end.

Meanwhile, Susie had joined Sally to unpack some of the bag’s contents. Sally put a few things on the end table: a collar and leash, a pair of handcuffs, a cock cage. She took out a cane, long, thin, and flexible, and handed it to Susie “This one’s for you. I’m going to use this,” she said, picking up a leather riding crop.

“Thanks, Mom,” Susie said warmly, enjoying a conspiratorial closeness with her usually emotionally detached parent. She swung the cane through the air to hear its whistling whoosh.

Her mom smiled. “You wanna stay and watch? Johnny can wait a few more minutes.”

“Sure!” Susie replied eagerly.

“Okay,” said Sally as she went around to Jeanine’s head, squatted down, and lifted her head by its curls, so that they were eye-to-eye. “I’m going to spank you now, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good girl. Your behavior is improving, but you were disrespectful to me and that can’t be overlooked. After that, you will still have to be punished for committing incest, for fucking your son. Is that understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Susie was fascinated and willing to learn from mother’s masterful domination of her mother-in-law.

“Now, I’m going to demonstrate the proper way to administer a spanking, the way you should have spanked your naughty boy.” Sally stood up and placed herself to the side of the ottoman so that her right hand could bring the crop down with force on the plump, dimpled ass. “I’m only going to give you ten this time, Jeanine, but you have to count them.”

Sally spanked Jeanine’s broad ass with a steady, deliberate rhythm, alternating between the two soft, white globes with crisp, stinging blows, turning them to a fiery red. After each hard smack, Jeanine gave the count bravely, holding back her tears until she cried, “Ten,” and began the sob quietly.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Sally spoke soothingly. She helped Jeanine down off the ottoman into a kneeling position. “Now what do you say?”

Jeanine felt a hand softly wiping a tear from her cheek, stroking it and gently lifting her chin. She looked up at Sally, so tall and imposing, smiling down on her so kindly.

“Thank you, ma’am,” she said. It was not only what etiquette demands, wondered Jeanine, but it also expressed what she really felt.

“You’re welcome, Jeanine,” Sally responded, pleased. “Do you see how simple it would have been to train Johnny up properly?”

Jeanine was moved, filled with remorse. Not only had she failed to train him, but she had compounded her error with incest. She hung her head. “Yes, ma’am,” she said humbly. “Thank you.” She looked up again, admiringly. What an amazing woman she is, Jeanine thought, so clever, so confident!

“You want to be a good girl, don’t you, Jeanine?” Sally said, softly petting the pretty blond curls. “I know you do. And I’m going to help you. You want me to help you be good, don ‘t you?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeanine said with gratitude despite her wariness, the heightened edge of fear she felt. Or was it actually because of the titillation that fear caused, arousing her to a more submissive state?

“Good. We’re going to have to address your nasty urges now. I want you on the ottoman again. This time on your back.”

Jeanine complied willingly. She sat at the edge and laid herself down on her back with her feet on the floor. Her head reached just beyond the other side of the ottoman and hung down, giving her an upside-down view of the other side of the room. She felt the complete loss of control. She was completely vulnerable. Her massive boobs sagged off her chest to either side, their erect nipples pointing outward. Sally repositioned her feet so that they were tucked behind the legs of the ottoman on each side, forcing her legs aside and exposing her leaking pussy.

“I’m going to whip your titties now, Jeanine. Do you know why?” Sally asked patiently, although she was seething with sadistic zeal.

“Because I let Johnny suck them?” The prospect of the sting of the whip didn’t scare Jeanine. On the contrary, it only increased the lust that her lewd display and helpless had expanded, the lust that had been growing inside her from the moment she had capitulated to Sally.

“And what else?” Sally said with exaggerated calm.

Jeanine wondered for a moment and then said, “Letting Johnny cum on them?”

“Good girl!” Sally’s words of praise had a menacing ring, because she was raising her arm to strike.

Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, smack! The blows rained down relentlessly, alternating, ten times on each breast, turning them red all over. Each time a nipple was struck, Jeanine almost came, even though the pain was worse. She writhed in agony and lust, feeling an intense erotic connection to her tormentor. Tears flowed, but she did not cry, only moaned in wonton abandon.