I call my mother's door. In the portfolio work diary. Pubis, butt and legs shaved thoroughly, ass cleaned by enema. Buttocks tremble slightly - this week I was a little lazy and did not complete several planned cases. And today my ass will not be sweet.

As soon as mom opened the door, I got worried. The apartment smelled of unfamiliar perfume. My anxiety intensified when my mother took me to a room where an unknown girl of twenty-seven was sitting with a cup of tea.

- Here, Dasha! Do you remember my little Zhenka?

So this is Dasha! How is she prettier! - I thought.

- Of course! Do you forget this! - and she laughed. “He squealed like that then!” Does he still scream?

- But today you will see for yourself! Take off your clothes - this is me.

I blushed deeply and hesitated, but my mother was adamant:

- Alive! My wife has nothing to be ashamed of! Though the future!

Ah, there it is! Mom has long promised to marry me ... so Dasha! Well, nothing beautiful! I used to obey, so I sighed and slowly took off my shirt, then my pants and stayed in the thong.

- Oh! - Dasha has pushed, - and what is he in your women's underwear?

- So he controls himself better. I will tell you a lot today and show you. Have patience, baby!

“Well!” The mother shouted at me, “You can take off your pants yourself or help?”

I slowly pulled my underpants down to my ankles, stepped over them and put them on a pile of my clothes. Dasha began to look at my rising member with interest, and I didn’t dare to hide behind - I had to hold my hands at the seams.

“Now, dear,” the mother turned to Dasha, “he has a training-discharge on schedule.” Once a week he needs to drain the accumulated sperm. I used to milked him, but then I decided that it could negatively affect his instincts, and now he is imitating sexual intercourse.

After these words, the mother moved to the sofa in the middle and pulled out of the bedside table two hourglasses, rubber gloves, petroleum jelly and a condom, commanding me:

- Waiting for a special invitation?

I approached and stood before her. Still, with a stranger, I still felt constrained, despite my taming. She unhurriedly pulled on gloves, lightly jerked my pisyun to make him stone, put a condom on him, smeared her left hand with petroleum jelly, spread her legs wider and put her hand between them. I habitually lay down across her knees, waited for her to firmly squeeze my pisyun into a fist, turn the clock over and slap my ass.

After the slap command, I began to move my pelvis up and down, portraying fucking and looking at the hourglass.

- I train him for two visits - explained Dasha's mother. - the first - five minutes, the second - ten. I think that will be enough to satisfy any woman.

When the sand in the upper cavity of the clock was two times less, I accelerated and finished almost with the last caves.

- Well done !, - praised my mother and began to knead my half-drunk member, stroking my fingernails on the buttocks.

When she felt that I was ready for the second call, I turned over another clock and slapped me again. And I rode again. And again, finished almost on time.

“Now it's my turn!” Turned to Dasha's mother, “He should be given up to the drop.” At the same time, and it will be clear - he was engaged in masturbation during the week or not.

“I didn't do it,” I replied, and immediately received a slap from my mother:

- Do not interrupt senior!

With these words, she dipped two fingers of her right hand in a jar of Vaseline, tried on, and abruptly put them in my anus, from which I screamed. Although she does this to me every week, every time it happens unexpectedly and painfully. Mother moved her fingers a little, groped the prostate and began to press her rhythmically.

- Prostate massage, - again a comment for Dasha.

After a couple of minutes, I felt my discharge go through my fallen and even shrunk pisyuns.

“Now get up and tell me how you behaved this week!” My mother told me, tightly gripping my cringing cock in her fist.

I got up, and the condom stayed in her hand. She raised it to eye level, estimated the volume and nodded in satisfaction. This meant that I was not suspected of masturbation.

I briefly explained that I didn’t have time this week, where and how I didn’t behave very well, and summed up that I was supposed to have fifty studs and five stringings. After a brief discussion with the mother, another fifty were added to the fifty rods, and stringing turned into piercing.

“And what of stringing and piercing?” - My future wife asked.

The mother pulled out of the nightstand and showed her two strap-ons — pink thin long and short, thick black and explained:

- If he was a good boy all week and did everything, I very gently fuck his ass with this pink straponchik ... He sometimes even grumbles with pleasure. And if, like today, he did it, - the mother began to stretch the black strapon, - Then there are two options. Stringing is when a strap-on is introduced slowly but non-stop. And just as slowly removed. It hurts, but endures. And piercing is when sharply. And abruptly removed in one or two seconds, until the anus had time to relax. It is very painful, and he almost always cries from it. But this is then ... and now - the rod!

We moved to another room, where a narrow, long bench was pushed in the middle, with a bucket of rods at the head of it. I was the first to go and heard behind me the clatter of two pairs of heels on the parquet - wide, sure mother's and slightly mincing Dashkin.

I habitually stretched out on the bench, and my mother began to fasten me to her - her hands, waist, knees and ankles were tightly wrapped in leather straps.

“Well, Dasha,” the mother took one of the rods from the bucket, “this is a rod.” (Porn stories) He will receive the first twenty hot ones slowly, measuredly, under my notation. Then I will whistle him the remaining fifty. Let's get started!

After these words, my mother began to quit me slowly, pronouncing me after every whip for misdemeanors. And I had to count and thank:

- One, thanks mommy! ... Two, I won't be like this anymore! Three, I promise not to be lazy! ... Twenty, thanks mommy!

The ground rod was replaced by three thinner and louder.

- And now for learning a lesson! Get it! - and mother began to whip me silently and vigorously. She already counted herself. After all, I would still have lost count, because from the first seconds I began to scream. Ass instinctively clenched, and when unclenched, the mother tried to get into the gap between the buttocks, which caused my cries. Having counted, the mother threw the rod on the floor, but did not hurry to untie me. I got worried, and as it turned out, not in vain.

- When you came, you forgot to say hello to your guest! Said the mother, pulling out a new rod. - For this, I will add to you twenty more hot!

- Well, mom - I ached - I was confused, I'm sorry!

- And now confused again? - mother fished two more twigs out of the bucket. - Instead of apologizing to Dasha, you worry for your ass! For this, you still desyatochek!

- Forgive ... those Dasha! - I said, not daring to ask for the cancellation of the rod.

“I forgive, but if mother allows,” she glanced at her mother, “I would add to you!”

- Of course, baby! This is only for his benefit! Take the rods and stand on the other side! Now we will cut him into two hands!

And they began to whip me. The first few strokes gave a measured, and then began to increase the pace. And I squealed - it had never hurt so much. And they all quilted and quilted.

Finally the spanking ended and they began to unfasten me. And I continued to whine - so painfully and for a long time I have not been flogged.

To be continued