Chapter 1

I should note that this world is exceptionally libertine in their sexuality so don’t expect our traditional conservatism especially regarding public displays of sexual activity

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The tie Meg was in had me grimacing. I mean, it also had *her* grimacing but… Man, she must have really fucked up.

She was currently hogtied on the bed, Mom’s trusty muzzle-penis gag adorning her cute face. Two straps went between her eyes and around the back of her head, two around her cheeks, and two crisscrossed around her chin. Drool leaked onto the carpet in a single, steady stream.

The tie itself was one of Mom’s more nasty ones. A few lengths of rope connected the straps of the muzzle-penis gag to the ankle tie she was wearing. Also connected to her ankles was a gnarly hair tie, a single short rope mercilessly pulling her hair back. The two ties caused her to have to yank her head back quite a bit, leaving her entire chest exposed. Of course, Mom rarely did nude ties but, once again, Meg must have really fucked up. Attached to her large breasts were two nipple clamps that were connected to Mom’s two pound weights. It caused her naturally perky but heavy breasts to stretch just a little. Most of the stretching, it seemed, was done by the nipples.

Her elbows were tied together with only two or three windings of white rope. The forearms had gotten more of the action, looking like seven or eight windings. The bindings on the forearms were connected to a tight crotchrope that dug in her poor belly and, even though I couldn’t see from my spot in the hallway, was probably tearing into her poor pussy.

Tears rolled down her eyes as she weakly struggled against the bindings and sweated matted the parts of her hair that weren’t tied. At this point, a thin sheen of it covered her whole body. I didn’t fail to notice the three heaters and the humidifier that Mom had also put in there, keeping the room at a humid 95 degrees. Having spent an hour like that had taken most of the fight out of her.

She noticed me, standing in the hallway, and pleaded with her eyes to free her. We both knew what would happen if I did. She mewled pitifully as more drool and sweat dripped onto the bed. It was hard to pull away, to simply leave her like that. My grip tightened on the knob but I knew it was futile. I silently closed the door and walked downstairs.

“That’s a really cruel punishment,” I said to my mom as I stepped down onto the kitchen tile. I was doing my best to be nonchalant so that it wouldn’t appear as if I was trying to get Meg out of her punishment early.

Mom’s back was turned as she was currently chopping up some vegetables for dinner. I’d hate to say I noticed but her tight jeans on her very thick thighs and *ahem* butt were quite the sight. I averted my gaze. If there was one truism in this house it’s that all the women had big tits but Mom sported the biggest. A thick MILF, that’s what my friends at all times called her. The tight white shirt certainly made it evident when she would stop to grab something from the cabinets.

“Well, she should have thought of that before she did what she did,” was my mother’s terse reply.

I pulled myself onto a chair at the kitchen island. “I know I’m missing a lot of context and all but don’t you think that’s all a bit much?”

“You’re right. You don’t have context.” She dumped some spices onto the veggies and didn’t appear like she wanted to continue the conversation.

“I’m just saying, I think she probably learned her lesson,” I shuffled awkwardly in my chair.

“She’ll have learned her lesson in two more hours. I have a timer right here.” She tapped her phone that was lying beside her on the counter.

“Two more hours? That’s *for sure* overboard.” I couldn’t help but let a little incredulity seep into my voice.

Mom spun around and placed her hands on her hips, the annoyance palpable as she scowled at me. “Meg was drunk driving. Do you understand how dangerous that is? She drove all the way from Jessie’s!”

I withered under her fierce gaze. There were two rules that were not meant to be broken in this house: the first was no drunk driving, which applied mostly to Meg, while the second was no panty sniffing, which I’m embarrassed to admit mostly applied to me. If either of those two rules were broken, she went all out with the punishment. Usually the ties were used as a way to enforce a ‘timeout’ (which, under typical circumstances, we should have outgrown given that I was the youngest and just starting school but, at this point, a bondage punishment was as natural as family dinner). It wasn’t uncommon to see someone strapped to a table or left strappado-style in a closet. Hell, sometimes Mom even used the dildo machine or the sybian downstairs on the girls.

I heard the front door open and suddenly saw Val’s distinctive blond ponytail bobbing up and down as she entered the room. All the time the athlete, she was wearing her red volleyball shirt (which did quite a bit to accentuate her bust) and her black athletic shorts (which also did quite a bit to accentuate her ass).

“Hey,” she said as she passed us both and bounced up the stairs.

“You’re home early,” Mom called to a quickly receding figure.

“No,” Val yelled back, likely already in her room. “Just needed to grab some workout stuff.”

Mom sighed. “If she doesn’t even have time for a family dinner, how is she gonna have time for a boyfriend?” She turned around and resumed cooking.

“I don’t think Valerie is on the market right now so it doesn’t seem to be much of an issue,” I said, trying to defend Val.

“Yea, well, the only way she’s gonna stop using my dildos is if she gets a boyfriend. It’s so yucky to find them already used and entirely unwashed. Bleh.”

I quickly changed the subject because, as usual, Mom was divulging *way* too much information. “Is Alex gonna be around later tonight?”

“Good question. Why don’t you text her and ask? I thought she was gonna be staying in the city tonight but that could actually be tomorrow.”

“Ok.” I pulled out my phone and quickly found Alex in the contacts menu. Her familiar punk rocker look graced my screen as I shot her a text.

I heard Val stomping down the stairs.

“Ya know, I’ve told you this a million times but I don’t like boys, so just leave me alone, Mom.”

Mom, without looking, raised her hands to signal no offence meant. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I just figured that if the frequency of your using my dildos meant anything, it meant, well, you know.”

“Don’t be annoying, Mom,” she said as she stomped past us both. And with that, she was gone, back to her little bubble of athletics.

Val was definitely a lesbian. Mom was bi but probably leaned more towards women these days, Meg was undecided and Alex had given up hope on men. A strange household to be in, when it was out this way but this is the home I grew up in. Dad left before I was born and we never saw him. Maybe that’s why Mom implemented the bondage punishments, to make up for a missing tough father figure.

Regardless, being the only boy in a house full of energetic females was not easy. I sighed.

••

I pumped my dick hard and fast. I had to be in and out. No playing games, no extending this.

I gripped the panty harder and inhaled deeper. Mom’s panty faintly smelled of her vaginal fluids, a tangy, musky scent. It covered my nose and mouth, a brief moment of incestuous bliss filling me as I continued to work my cock, lubed hand sliding up and down it, not there was a lot to slid up and down on. It was maybe four inches hard.

Sensations of pleasure ran up my spine and I shuddered at imagining my mom having worn these, wedged between her cleanly shaven pink lips. They probably had rubbed against her clit and soaked up some of her sweat and maybe even a little piss. I inhaled more.

The lotion on my dick made lewd squelching sounds as I continued to jack myself off. I wondered about my mom at the grocery store, the way she strolled casually through the aisles as these panties rode up between her ass cheeks. Had they touched her asshole? The very question thrilled me.

I briefly thought if her scent would still be on my face after I put the panties back. It was dangerous to jack off in her room, with her closet open and dirty clothes basket in disarray from someone who was clearly rummaging through. Totally risky but that’s what made it exciting.

I pumped faster now, my dick throbbing, aching under my own touch. I could feel my balls swelling. I imagined her leaning over to inspect some cans and the panties wedging into her ass. I sniffed again and could almost see the smells washing over.

Pink panties. For some reason, that was extra hot.

I stood over her dirty laundry basket in nothing but a t-shirt. My knees locked tightly as I felt myself edging closer. My own mother. Those big, heavy tits of hers. I wanted to hold them so badly. The scent of her musk filled my nostrils as I took in my final inhalation and exploded.

That, unfortunately, was the last thing I remembered before blacking out.

••

I awoke, groggily, with dancing black spots moving across my sight. My head throbbed and not in a good way this time. My thoughts, a scattering of feelings, sounds, and unfinished sentences, tried to take hold of the situation and assess what was going on.

It wasn’t until I noticed the rather sharp pain in my head that I began to more fully come to. I saw that I was still in front of my mom’s closet, sprawled out on the ground. Mom and Megan were both kneeling beside me with expressions of real concern etched onto their faces.

Both spoke essentially simultaneously. “Sweetie, are you okay?” and “Oh my god, Kyle.”

Mom followed up. “What happened?”

I groggily looked at her and then down at myself, slowly realizing that I was still without bottoms, small dick flopped lazily to the side. Instinctively, my hand went to cover it. That was when I realized I had much bigger problems than being without bottoms.

My cum had splattered all over her laundry basket. White ropes of cum had landed on her dirty clothes, the basket itself and even the wall. Hell, I had some on myself. I must have been knocked out right away and kept cumming. I groaned. And, of course, in my right hand was my mother’s panties.

My face flushed with embarrassment.

“Can you talk,” my mother asked worriedly.

I nodded, feeling the heat on my cheeks. “Yea, I can,” I responded weakly.

“Are you hurt? How hard did you hit your head? Are you concussed?” The questions were rapid fire but it was a good sign that I was able to keep up with them.

“Only a little, and not too hard, and no, I don’t think so.”

“You’re gonna have a nasty bump,” Meg chimed in, suddenly relishing the embarrassing situation I had found myself in. She was usually the one who was punished and I don’t think she had gotten over how I closed the door on her. In my defense, it wasn’t like I could do anything else. Helping her would have only gotten me a nice little bondage punishment.

“How can you tell you’re not concussed?” Mom shifted her position a little, placing her hand on my head. As she did that, I released her panties.

“Uh, I just know from experience.” This whole state of affairs was my worst nightmare, the worst way for my mom to rediscover that I had not, in fact, given up on my sexual fantasy of her and her panties. I wanted to crawl under the floorboards, to hide in the basement and never come out. Maybe I could have Amazon drones deliver me the essentials. It was feasible. The only issue would be that I’d have to climb through the basement window. Luckily, I was skinny enough to do that but it was dirty enough that even thinking about it was gross.

“Are you sure?” She asked one more time, the distress and uneasiness still there on her face.

“Yes,” I said, a little more confidently.

“Ok.” And after another moment, “good.” She pulled back slightly, taking her hand off my head and surveyed the closet area. It was like a switch had flipped. Now that she was sure I was okay, it was time to deal with the mess I had created. “I cannot believe this.” Her expression had changed into something more like her angry self. She turned back to look at me. “You had promised me you were done.”

“Yea, I thought I was…” I mumbled.

Meg giggled. “Somebody’s in big trouble.” I shot her a deathly glare but Mom took charge.

“Young lady, do *not* forget the hogtie you were in the other day. I’m mad enough that I will put you back in it, nipple clamps and all.” That shut her up quickly. Mom’s irritated gaze fell back on me. “As for you, young man, you are in a boat load of trouble like you have never experienced before. I had tried to be patient with you, to tell you what my boundaries are in the hopes that you would listen. I had tried that route. Then I started to punish you when you wouldn’t listen because you continually crossed them despite my wishes. And now we have this. If this is not the most flagrant, disgusting crossing of boundaries ever, then I don’t know what is.” She waved at the mess before her. “If you care so little for my boundaries, why should I care for yours?”

The question was pointed and belied her furious inside. I couldn’t tell if it was rhetorical or not so I tried to play it safe and respond.

“I’m-“

“Do *not* speak. Don’t you even dare. I’m done with your pathetic, lame excuses. Absolutely done. This has gone too far. I-I,” She looked up at the ceiling, brain attempting to process something. “I am beyond words.”

We sat like that for a moment, her staring at me angrily and me averting my gaze. Meg seemed thrilled. Well, she was thrilled until my mom spoke again.

“Megan, clean up after your brother. His punishment starts now.”

“Wait, what? Mom?” she whined. “That’s so unfair. It’s all gross-“

Mom interrupted her with a finger to her lips and it spoke louder than words. Meg immediately shut up.

“Stand up, Kyle.”

I inwardly groaned but did as I was told. As soon as I was on my feet, she grabbed my arm and tugged me to my room.

Once we entered she had me sit in my computer chair and whipped out two sets of cuffs. She at all times carried some bondage items on her. My arms were pulled over the short backrest and my wrists were then cuffed. The cold metal sent a small shiver up my spine as she locked them tightly. The second pair were used on my elbows. That dug into my skin even more but I didn’t even so much as make a peep.

She pulled some rope out of her jeans and set to tying my wrist cuffs to the back of the chair. It was a quick tie, one that didn’t seek to hide the knot from my fingers but it was effective, pulling my hands directly against the metal bar that made up the back. She moved to my ankles right after, tying them both together.

I counted six windings of rope, which definitely meant she was mad. But even through her anger, she still maintained a careful balance of aesthetics. Whereas the rope wound horizontally over my ankles, she tied it off by winding some vertically, creating a very clean looking knot. My ankles were then pulled to the metal bar that made up the base of the chair’s legs. She tied it off quickly and efficiently.

“If I hear you struggling at all, I will make this worse than any tie you’ve ever experienced.” She wagged a finger in front of my face to emphasize it. It wouldn’t have crossed my mind anyway but now there was no chance.

She departed from the room and I was suddenly left all alone. Normally, bondage excites me. It’s fun to be tied up and helpless and that, unfortunately, makes me excited *down there* but even though I was wearing no pants or underwear, it was very clear to anyone who came into the room that I was the opposite of excited.

I was filled with fear. This was, arguably, the maddest she had ever been. Her very presence was a threat. I didn’t know what she had in store for me but I had to assume the worst. A strict closet strappado was what Alex had been put in a month ago and that looked even worse than Meg’s tie. Alex wasn’t able to walk without help for two days. Granted, Alex really liked that which is probably why Mom did it. Alex was a little bit of a masochist in that respect.

My heart thudded in my chest as my thoughts came back to my impending doom. One time, Mom had filled the bathtub after tying Val up and added weights so she had to struggle against it to keep her head above water. Mom never left her side but that was certainly a crazy tie.

The steel against my wrists and the lack of mobility continually reminded me of what was to come. I was totally helpless in this position and it wasn’t even that intricate. The cuffs on my elbows were also uncomfortable and I worried that she would keep them on. An hour like this would be brutal enough.

I heard the sound of Mom’s footsteps going up the stairs. I involuntarily stiffened in my chair.

She entered the room carrying a bottle of pills and a glass of water. She stopped in front of me. “Since you don’t care for boundaries, your punishment is that you will lose all of them and experience what it feels like on my end.” With an expertise rarely seen, she uncapped the bottle with one hand and rolled out a single pill between her thumb and pointer finger. “Take this,” she ordered before roughly shoving it into my mouth. Her fingers mixed with that disgusting chalky taste of the pills was not a pleasant experience but I accepted it. Water soon found its way into my mouth and I hungrily drank it down, not having realized how thirsty I was.

Normally, one should have an understanding of the pills that he or she is taking but this was not a typical time.

“You’re going to stay like this until dinner. Then we will talk.”

And with that she was gone, leaving me and my worries about what I just took all alone.

••

We were all seated around the dinner table together, including a usually absent Val. I was in the baby chair. It was, in its essence, a feeding chair meant for adults that was modeled after one for infants. It was outfitted with straps of all sorts. A bondage feeding chair. It was made of wood and had a tray that was currently lowered in front of me, replete with a dish of steaming food. The back of the chair was high enough that it reached right underneath my head. There was an expandable section coupled with its own strap that could be used to tie someone’s head down, which was currently not being used, thank God.

I was strapped down to it. My arms were essentially welded to the armrests, my chest and stomach strapped to the back of it and my legs were tied to the legs of the chair. All in all, I was stuck as could be.

This wasn’t unusual for our family dinners. If someone had fucked up, they had to be feed by someone else. Mom at all times relegated that task to someone else, claiming she had already fed us the entirety of our lives and it was time for a break. Depending on how badly one fucked up, they would be wearing more or less clothes. I was naked as the day I was born and red as a tomato.

Meg had offered to feed me and was now letting me chew my food in peace.

We ate in silence until Mom had decided it was time to explain the punishment.

“Kyle has crossed the line for the final time. As you can see, he was caught masturbating in my room again.”

I couldn’t look at anyone at the table, the embarrassment so thick I could taste it.

She continued. “This punishment will require all your help. Kyle will be undergoing some changes so that he can understand what it feels like to have *his* boundaries crossed against his will. As a result, there is nothing he is allowed to refuse. He will be free to use.”

A slave? What the fuck? What was she saying? My heart rate increased tenfold. Everyone looked shocked, exchanging glances and whatnot. The most sexual things got between us was when we either stumbled upon each other masturbating or when the girls were given a dildo or vibrator punishment.