Chapter 13
My pussy throbbed from more than the lingering pain of the riding horse as I
looked at my mother. She was suspended upside down in front of me between two
posts, her ankles cuffed and pulled by chains which anchored high on each post,
holding her legs up and spread so far apart that the pink inner flesh of her sex
was fully exposed. Her arms hung loose, her fingers brushing the floor, and her
pendulous breasts rested near her chin. It was a depraved sight, yet at the
same time it lit a flame in my loins.
Mother had given me a furtive look of assurance and understanding as they
went about the clumsy task of hanging her upside down. I still agonized over
the secret excitement coursing through me. I realized with a stab of shame that
I wanted to do it. I wanted to whip the cunt that gave me birth. I wanted to
make her scream. But could I live with it afterward?
I stood before her with the birch rod in my hand. "Get on with it girl,"
Jess ordered. Still I resisted.
Mother said, "Go ahead, child. . . Whip momma's cunt, baby. It's all right."
Tears were streaming down my cheeks when I threw the rod down and said, "No,
I won't whip my own mother. Whip me instead."
I heard Seth laugh and say, "These be two stubborn bitches boss."
"Well," said Jess finally, "the time has come for us to fish or cut bait.
We're going to whip two cunts together, and not with no take it easy birch."
With much struggle and adjusting I was lashed to the same posts with momma.
It took them a long time to make it so that our cunts were at the same level.
We were belly to belly, and because most of our height difference was from her
legs being long and mine short, we were close enough to face to face that we
could look each other in the eye. Because hers sagged more, the tops of my
breasts rested against the underside of hers. Our faces were just inches apart.
I was shivering with fear, my body vibrating against hers. She whispered,
"We'll get through this baby. It'll be alright." And then she did something
that made me forget the fear; she put her arms around me and brought her mouth
to mine. Our breasts pressed together deliciously as she kissed me. I felt my
genitals spasm with arousal just as the first blow of Jeff's bullwhip snaked out
to kiss the inside of my right thigh and the inside of mother's left thigh,
leaving a streak of fire where it landed. Our kiss ended as we jerked apart,
both of us competing in the volume of our screams.
Seth was on the opposite side of us wielding another bullwhip and he
delivered the next blow, this one to the opposite thigh. They alternated
striking us, both working their blows toward the center of our womanhood as we
kept up a steady stream of protest. We hugged each other like injured children
clinging to their mothers, seeking comfort against the unendurable.
A blow finally landed with a new sound, one more like an oar splashing
against the water. "Splat," was the sound of the whip's tail cutting into moist
labial tissue. I felt mother's body vibrate against me, rigid as iron. I'm
sure mine felt the same. The pain was so intense we couldn't make our throats
utter a sound for long moments, but then our chorus began. Our screams echoed
like two lonely wolves communing in the night, rising to an ear splitting pitch
before trailing off as our breath was spent.
We were both in another dimension. The pain was so acute that our minds
refused to acknowledge the experience of our bodies, taking time away until the
pain could be turned into something acceptable. For me the third lash striking
my cunt brought the first wave of a new dimension of arousal. Something deep
within broke loose, bathing my pelvis and sex organs in pain dampening,
transforming elixir. I began to focus on this new and pleasureful feeling, and
I suddenly realized that the next blow wasn't something terrifying. It would
bring fiery pain, yes, but this same pain was the spark that was igniting the
new and ecstatic pleasure within. Like scratching an ever more consuming
internal itch with a garden rake, the pain from the tool intensified the
wonderful relief.
I was floating in a detached haze of arousal. Words like fuck, cock and cunt
were again drifting about in the back of my head. I didn't care about the whip.
What I wanted was for the ball of pleasure vibrating within me to explode in
blissful fulfillment.
Mother's yell barely registered. I struggled to awareness to hear, "and suck
cock. Please let me fuck assholes and suck cock."
"Sounds good to me," I dreamily thought to myself as I rose toward climax.
And then it hit me with a surge of indescribable force, flashing from my sex
organs to set off convulsive tremors through my body. I wanted to scream my
passionate release, but what came out was, "Please, let me tongue fuck ass and
suck cock."
