Gabriel's Story

My mom is a slut. That's how those gratuitous incest videos start that all the freshmen college boys are into. Undoubtedly the result of unresolved mommy issues because they weren't breastfed enough. There is no end to the fantasy porn that is available of this kind. It's impossible not to be aware of it even if you aren't hot for your mom or a guy. So yeah, I'm a woman and my mom is a slut.

Now before you start thinking that I have a kitty fetish. When I say "slut" I mean that as; she is sexually active, without limits and promiscuous. I also mean she has a Dom. And it's not my dad.

I don't know who my dad is which hardly seems unusual considering. Her Dom, Carson Dietz, Mr. Dietz to mom and I, who she lives with, as did I until moving to college last year, sexually exploits her in the extreme. Now that kind of knowledge coming to a nineteen year old could be detrimental to a girl's self-esteem if she weren't well adjusted, which I am. Though what I'm going to tell you might make you think that is debatable.

Mom is a fit and attractive late thirties white female. Yes, those college boys would call her a milf. Mr. Dietz has her on a very strict fitness regimen and has done so for as long as I can remember. She's got hard washboard abs, toned legs and at thirty-eight tits high on her chest with no sag. I'm fit too. When I was a kid it was fun to workout with mom. We made a game of the workouts. Then it became a competition to see if I could first match mom and then later if I could out do her. Let me tell you that a woman that spends a lifetime working out is next to impossible to out exercise, but by then fitness had become a habit for me too.

I'm an ethnically diverse college age gym rat woman with caramel skin, a mass of tightly curling dark brown hair and a cute little nose. I'm also smart. Well, book smart anyway. You'll see what I mean in a moment.

As I said earlier, I used to live with my mom in Mr. Dietz' home until moving on-campus last year, it's the only home I've ever known. Growing up was great. Mr. Dietz is an enlightened, fair and generous parent. I never thought there was ever anything unusual about calling him "Mr. Dietz" instead of "Dad", nor about the very specific household rules he imposed on us, because mom follows them too. When I was a kid, discipline in the home was always straight forward consequences of actions. Mr. Dietz never spanked me. His consequences are always more fiendish than that, but I never forgot a lesson or rule afterward. He was encouraging and helped with my schoolwork. He taught me all manner of useful skills, and I treasure the time we spent together on chores or projects. I just never thought there was anything unusual about calling my father figure by his surname instead of "Dad", or that there is anything unusual about looking different than my parent.

Now, just because I was never spanked doesn't mean there weren't any spankings. I just thought it normal that when mom broke a rule or underperformed spankings are what parents do. I thought it happened the same way at my friend's homes. So, you see that in a sense I was very naïve and unobservant. Not quite that smart, huh?

So, yeah, he spanked mom. Every time she broke a rule, immediately. He'd take her over his knee and raise her skirt (very rarely did she ever wear pants, though this wouldn't deter him), lower her panties and spank her bottom until it was red. I sure didn't want that to happen to me, but I thought that that was just what a husband does with his wife when she disobeys. I'm cool with that.

That's right, I thought they were married. It just never occurred to me that it was any other way despite the lack of marital/family jargon in use in our home. You know the kind; "honey, darling, dad, we, the Dietz'" and so forth.

So how do I know that my mom is a slut or that she's Mr. Dietz' sub or that he shares her with others? Well, I love my mom. We did normal family stuff too. We have pictures together. There is this great one of her and me after I won a school tennis tournament. She was so proud. I was giddy. We couldn't stop smiling and laughing because I had just beat the district's top player. Totally improbable! Mr. Dietz praised me non-stop and took a picture of us cheek to cheek. The picture is next to my bed at the dorm. I love that picture.

Cassie, my roommate, and I are besties. We like the same things, we watch the same things, we laugh at the same things, we wear each other's clothes, we share secrets and we finish each other's sentences. So it is only natural that she noticed that I look different than my supposed parents. I say supposed because Cassie just naturally assumed that I was adopted. That wasn't what tipped her off that things weren't exactly according to Hoyl at my home though.

It was this. Cassie has a boyfriend. I don't. Lots of guys have asked me out on dates. I am a hot chick after all, five-five with pert breasts. Some I've accepted; others I've not. Some guys have tried to get handsy, but they've found out what I can do to a thumb. Cassie and Gavin on the other hand are a pair, very cute together. I like him. They seem so normal together. They talk responsibility. They talk goofy. They talk about their future. They spend quality time together not just the staring into each other's eyes canoodling time, real quality time. They also take time apart to be individuals. They'll be very happy together for a very long time. I'm very happy for them both. And I'm not jealous because, again, I'm a well-adjusted individual. That's the way Mr. Dietz raised me.

I know, I see the obvious contradiction too. More on that later. Cassie had a secret from me.

We are all young, full of verve and impetuous. So it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Cassie and Gavin are getting busy. She's hot too. My size, nice round boobs and a knockout smile. It wasn't to me either the first time she didn't come back to the dorm after their date. But, it's cool. She's a responsible adult and I know she practices safe sex. When she came home in the morning after one of their long date nights she was all happy. I knew they had been particularly rambunctious as Cassie had not even attempted to fix her lustrous blonde hair.

I remember that I was half dressed for the day with my skirt on but only my shear copper bra on top which looks so good against my skin while I fixed my hair. Her first class was an hour after mine which is why the date had lasted all night. Maybe she'd make it; maybe she wouldn't. She sat on the bed facing me and talked about how wonderful life is and about Gavin and how happy she is and how the birds sing so sweetly while working a brush through her hair. Gag. And before you ask, no, she didn't describe her evening which I didn't want to know about anyway. That would come later.

I had my blouse on and my bag in my hand before I realized that she'd stopped talking. When I looked she was staring gape-mouthed at the picture of me and mom. When I asked her if she was alright all she said was, "I've seen her!" Perhaps you see somewhat where this is going now.

"Well, yeah. You've seen her lots of times," which is true, because she always lunches with us when my mom comes over to see me.

"No, I mean that I've seen her," with emphasis on the "I've seen." As there didn't seem to be any more forthcoming and she didn't look like she was delirious. I shouldered my pack and headed to class. Of course, that turned out to be pretty useless as I thought about what she could mean all day. When I got back to our room she wasn't there and she didn't come back all night again. I was a little worried and then I noticed the picture was gone.

Now I'm not the kind of person who either panics or over reacts, but I can tell you that I was upset and I knew that she had taken it. I didn't think that she would do it any harm and I trust her to do right. But with that strange statement I was a little concerned. I called but she wouldn't answer. Mr. Dietz had taught me how to remain calm and not speculate about mighta-beens, so I dressed for bed, boy short bottoms and a half shirt top that stops just under my breasts, and got some sleep. It wasn't good sleep but I managed. The next morning the picture was back and Cassie was sleeping soundly naked in her bed. Later when I questioned her about it she just pretended not to hear me. I let it lie until she was ready to talk. We are best friends after all.

She didn't talk about it that evening or even the next day or the next week and so I forgot about the incident. What she did though was start asking pointed questions about my family life. Not in any interrogation way, just sorta in passing. Not thinking anything of it I just answered truthfully and as she didn't pry or react to my answers it just slipped from my mind. I only realize she was investigating my family relationships now after they explained things to me.

So the whole semester goes by and we've finished exams, packed our stuff for the Christmas holiday and made ready to head home. Gavin brings pizza to our room and we kick back to relax a little and chat. Cassie asks me, "What's your whole name?"

Kinda a strange question from my bestie, I thought. Laughing I say, "Gabriel Lane Patrick, how do you do, what's yours" sticking out my hand?

She shakes my hand. Gavin laughs with us and she asks, "What's your mom's name?"

"Ok, 'I'm Gabriel Patrick, daughter of Dinah Patrick, all hail!'" as I strike an imperial pose. We all laugh at that. She just waits. So like I said there is smart and then there is not-so-smart. It's really just a matter of what assumptions that a person is raised on. Because the question had never come up before I never challenged the assumption, and; of course, I still didn't see the connection.

After a moment, Cassie asked me, "Are you adopted?" She said it small and quiet which made me think there was something out of the ordinary about this conversation.

"No, I'm not. Why are you asking me about my family?"

"What do you know about your dad?"

"Mr. Dietz is a great father. He's..."

"Not him. What do you know about your father?"

Oh, there it was! I just stopped, "I don't ...know..." Cassie was already looking at the picture next to my bed. I looked now also, not at the picture of my mom and me that I love so much, but of a white woman and a mulato girl cheek to cheek. My mouth hung open. Sometimes it really does take a ton of bricks to fall in order to see the obvious.

I love my mom and have never felt anything but love from her. But now suddenly I realize that she's kept a secret from me all my life. I felt shock and betrayal. My mind scrambled to reconcile what I thought I knew with what was before my eyes. My mouth worked without sound. My mind raced. I stood. I sat down. I stood again. I gibbered. And then I stopped. Mr. Dietz taught me when the shocking happens; slow everything down. I sat. I closed my mouth and I thought.

Cassie, Gavin and I went through the evidence together. Clearly my father was non-white, so Mr. Dietz can't be him. Duh. He's a medium size white fitness junkie. I could be adopted? We checked out my birth certificate. Dinah Patrick is listed as my mom, but the father line is blank. Maybe my mom had an affair or there was another man before she met Mr. Dietz. There were several very normal explanations that could account for my mixed heritage. Nothing had changed about the loving home that I had grown up in, so I would just ask mom about dad when I got home. I relaxed.

Cassie wasn't done though. I'm sure you can see where this story leads, but I assure you that sitting in the situation none of this so far; nor, what would come next could be anticipated. "Honey, there's more. I have a secret." Now I don't like being talked down to any more than the next person, but the way she said "Honey" checked my pique.

"I like to be spanked," she said.

What does a girl say to that? I've just learned that the man who raised me is not my dad. Really not that unusual; happens to adopted kids all the time. But that just comes out of left field. There's no context for it. "Hey, your family isn't your family; I like my ass whipped!" See what I mean? It just doesn't go together, except I do have a context for at least the second half of that statement if not the first part. Mom gets spanked. Again I couldn't reconcile the information. And I certainly didn't want to know details about Gavin and Cassie's idea of sex play.

She told me anyway.

"Do you remember the morning that I said, 'I've seen her?'?"

"Yeah."

"The night before, Gavin and I were returning from the movie and I playfully bit his ear as we were walking. He yelped and I leapt away and he started chasing me through the commons. We played a kind of tag until he caught me. Then he pulled me over his lap and spanked my ass hard. I was laughing and kicking and he was calling me a 'bad girl' when we both realized that we were getting really turned on."

Ewwww! I mean, I certainly could see that this story was going to lead to sex which I already knew that they had done, and I could equally see that she was going to give me all the nasty details whether I wanted to hear them or not. It was the turning what I had always thought of as normal, healthy discipline into sex play that was nauseating. Honestly, if I thought about it, which I was doing now, I always imagined that my husband would bend me over his knee and spank my bottom if I failed to obey. That's just what husbands do to wives I thought. To get sexually aroused by that was just completely outside of the realm of possibility.

"We raced back to his room where he yanked down my pants and spanked me until I was screaming and promising never to bite again. When he finished I couldn't wait for him to get his own clothes off. He was harder than I had ever seen him before and I was ready and practically peeing I was so juicy. That was the hardest that he'd ever fucked me. And the orgasms we both had? God I'm wet just telling you about it." Gavin was also clearly getting excited to tell by the bulge in his jeans though he was blushing at Cassie's candor.

"Yeah, well, not what I want to hear," I said.

"I've got to tell you that part so you'll understand the next part."

"I don't want to understand the next part, or even hear it, thank you very much," I said totally grossed.

"But you need to hear it. After we finished the first time," I started to interrupt but Cass shushed me. "We talked about what happened. Then we thought about finding out more about spankings, so we went online. Let me tell you that that is not the kind of thing you just want to plug into your search engine. After weeding through all the creepy stuff we found a couple of sites that said they teach safe discipline.

"There is an amazing amount of information about the subject. Some of these guys could teach whole courses on spanking. You can find things like different devices such as paddles, crops and whips as well as the ever popular hand; methods for inflicting the most pain/stimulation without injury; safe words; health; terminology; organizations and more. Most practitioners live every minute this way."

"This is how you want to live," I couldn't help asking confused as to what this had to do with my dad?

"No. I just like it when Gavin slaps and spanks my ass. It makes me really wet. Oh, we play act that I've been naughty, but I'm not into being controlled like that. They're called slaves or subs and they live completely at their Dom's command. Some of the things that they do are truly repulsive. But, that isn't the point."

Let me say it again, EWWWW! Now I'm imaging her and Gavin. It's easy to do. Cass likes to sleep in the all together so I know exactly what her 'ass' looks like. And it's not hard to visualize her lying over Gavin's lap with his hard dick pressed into her side as she kicks her legs and tosses her hair crying and screaming as he delivers blow after blow to her bare, round bottom. Not hard at all since I've grown up seeing that very thing happen to my mom. But now what I had always thought of as totally normal had been turned gross and perverted. Ewww! "Thanks, now I'm going to be stuck with that image. So what is your point?"

Cassie continued, "My point is this; we kept digging and found an interesting site that purported to teach disciplining without all the leather bondage kink humiliation stuff." She was practically bouncing as she said this.

"This is what we opened," Gavin said turning his laptop to me.

I swear to god that if I live to be a hundred I will never, ever get that image out of my mind. The web page was called In Slave D©. The image was Mr. Dietz in a very crisp suit and a woman that I absolutely knew to be my mom kneeling naked with her legs spread awkwardly exposing her shaved crotch, back arched, breasts thrust forward, arms bound in what I later learned was called a sleeve behind her back, her bob-cut hair held in place by a mask with red marks on each nipple pierced breast no doubt from the riding crop in Mr. Dietz' hand, and a leash trailing from the thin collar around her throat to his other hand. They both wore matching stylish masks, but you can't live with a person for most of two decades and not know every nuance about them. I knew them both. Besides, there is the choker. The same one mom is wearing in the picture of us next to my bed; the same one that I had never seen her without even showering and dressing after workouts together. And then there is the blemish on her right hip. I looked at the scar for I could now see it for what it truly was. I never thought about it and we never talked about it but in this new light it hit me that that is a brand. I ran to the bathroom and puked.

There is an inherent desire in all of us to control our surroundings and most especially those around us. That is the urge that drives (mostly men) to engage in this behavior. And I know from personal experience that that is exactly what Mr. Dietz desires. He is very good at it. There is a competing desire in all of us to be freed from the burden of personal responsibility. It is so much easier to have someone else make all the decisions. Mom is very good at following.

After I brushed and rinsed Cassie and Gavin went on to explain how participants in this lifestyle describe what happens as a voluntary power transfer. I wanted to transfer right out of that conversation. They called it a lifestyle like people put on clothes. They were talking about my life. Finally, I just grabbed my things and went to kiss Cass bye but stopped. I had my arm around her shoulder about to press my lips to hers like we have done every time either of us has gone home. Suddenly I started seeing normal, wholesome behaviors between friends and family differently. Right then I was thinking about what her lips felt like. I thought about how they are full, soft and yielding. I thought about the taste of the strawberry balm she favors during the winter and the pink color she uses when she goes out with Gavin. I could smell her floral body wash and perfume. My reaction to these thoughts wasn't chaste anymore. Instead I thought about the woman nearly in my arms as a sexually desirable being. This was freaking me out. I pulled away.

Cass looked confused. I told her that I was overwhelmed by everything they had told me and needed time alone to get a handle on it all. I told her that I loved her and left. No kiss.

I knew that she was hurt. Somewhere in her heart she realized I was really in the dark about the closest people in my life. Maybe she thought that I was being lied to or even that I was being manipulated for some nefarious purpose. I really believe that she thought she was acting in my best interest when she imploded my family history. But another part of her was excited by what she was learning and saw a place of power over me. By revealing the strange relationship of my mom and Mr. Dietz she could push me to do what she wanted. Take control over my decisions as it were. Because when I got right down to the bottom of what had happened it turns out that I really didn't need to know. What has been going on between mom and Mr. Dietz has nothing to do with me.

As I drove panic spawned imaginings climbed over each other until my head was spinning and I couldn't see the road any longer. I called home and left a message that I was doing some sightseeing and wouldn't be home for two more days. I went to a hotel and spent that time sorting through what I'd learned and my feelings about it all.

Mr. Dietz had taught me to think first. He taught me to observe and be thorough. Cass had only seen a lie told to a child. What I saw and still see is thoughtful parents training me to be the best that I can be. A man who prepared me to protect myself and how to succeed at whatever I wanted. Nothing had changed about the home I remember growing up in. It was a place of safety. And a place filled with love where honesty was valued and lying was not tolerated.

Right off the bat I jumped into the shower when I got to my room. I just felt dirty. My mind still whirled around without focus. Mr. Dietz and mom have this pervy sex thing they do. No child wants to think about their parents having sex let alone how kinky they are. Ugh! They kept a secret from me. So what? How did I come about? What are their plans for me? Has it all really just been a big lie? I was spiraling. I turned the water up hotter. 'Focus,' Mr. Dietz used to say, 'on the goal.' That could also mean the core fact or task. He meant take all the mental distractions away. The better I do that the better I perform. That has a whole new meaning now. I focused on my shower. I concentrated on lathering and washing, scrubbing each part and every inch, searching all the places where dirt and filth can hide like between my toes and behind my ears. Where did you think I meant?

Stepping out I was still not yet centered so I threw on my sports bra and running shorts and headed to the hotel workout center. Pathetic! But they had a functioning elliptical so I used that. As I sweated, things finally started ordering themselves in my mind. On the face of it, it will seem strange to say with all that has already been revealed that growing up was as normal as anyone else's. I asked myself what is the salient fact in my parent's behavior? The answer is rules.

Despite the popular idea that rules are made to be broken that is in fact not what they are for. They serve two functions; one is how to do something, the other is how to fit in.

None of us would know how to even tie our laces if there had not been a step-by-step procedure explained to us. Instructions are rules. An extension of this function is by what standard is our performance judged. Now, I was on more familiar ground. I'm in pre-law and law is all about rules. If a motion is not filled out and submitted according to the rules set forth under law then it won't get heard.

The TV would have us all believe that conformity is a sin. But the opposite of conformity is chaos. Conformity is a unity of purpose and ideas expressed through the behavior of a group. Rules teach us how to conform or fit in. If an attorney fails to follow the rules of the courtroom she will be held In Contempt. Consequences.

In my human behavior class we learned that one of the goals of parents is to prepare children to take their place as productive members of the group. As such parents are motivated to mold both the thinking and the behavior of their child to be like them.

But you know all this. I just wanted to illustrate how I got my mind reordered after the shock. So Mr. Dietz established rules that both mom and I obeyed. They helped both of us to be the most productive that we each could be. I was shown how to fit in with the society at large and how to be successful, gracious, kind and humble. I learned how to talk to others and how to carry myself in public. The result is a well-spoken young woman with superior grades, a prosperous future and self-assurance. Like I said: well-adjusted.

I headed back to my room and the shower again this time to wash the sweat and stink off. With my equilibrium back I thought of other things as I stepped in. Mom has her nipples pierced. It should be indicative to the extent that this news had unsettled me that my first rational thoughts are about my mom's naked body. My body is clean and without adornments. I've never had an urge to mark it. Now my thought about mom isn't creepy incest thoughts. Shame on you if that is where your thoughts went. What I was thinking is that it wasn't her choice.

Every time mom and I wanted to deviate from our schedule when I was growing up she'd say, "Let me check with Mr. Dietz first," or, "Let me see if that is alright with Mr. Dietz." It wasn't, "Let me 'tell' Mr. Dietz." It was always a matter of asking for permission from him. So I was certain that those two gold bar adornments transiting her thick nipples weren't her idea. And I was also certain that they weren't just for appearances sake. Yeah, they made her nipples hard all the time and they looked good against her pink areolas, but I was sure that he had less benign uses for them than just the imprint on her blouse which made me wonder about my own nipples as I showered. I touched the ends and felt them spring up as I pushed down on them. The sensation I felt was rewarding. I looked at them critically. Mine are small and hard when excited; centered on tight dark chocolate circles. I wondered how my mom's feel to her as I pinched my own. I twisted one to see how it felt and the surge through my groin drove me to a knee. Just that much and I was already feeling the heat between my legs. No wonder my mom let him do that to her. I forced myself to stop.

I was flush from more than the hot shower when I stepped out. And as much as I didn't want to think about what goes on between the two of them I was helplessly trapped into thinking about them sexually.

I lay out on the bed wrapped in the towel and pulled out my note book and started to write. It is a kind of investigative journal. Another skill Mr. Dietz taught me to help focus my train of thought. I was confident in my reasoning about my upbringing. There really wasn't anything sinister about teaching a child to be polite, obedient and competent. No, now I was thinking about the 'why' of their relationship.

First I did a little search on my laptop to find out if they ever married. They hadn't. Then I searched if mom had ever married. She hadn't. I searched Mr. Dietz also with the same result. So they are both single. Why hadn't they married? There was no obvious answer to that. So what did Mr. Dietz get from the relationship? Granted he must enjoy controlling mom, but that can't explain the length of time the two have been together. The obvious answer is that he loves her. But, again, that level of control seems anathema to love. I'd come back to that later.

Why does mom consent to be so treated? Again the answer must be love. But what kind of love accepts such harsh and degrading treatment in return. As yet I had no idea how degraded the treatment would get. Mom never struck me as the weak-willed dependent kind. My impression was always one of strength and independence. At this stage I still couldn't see the connection between discipline and confidence despite being a living example of it. Was mom somehow made better by the training? I didn't know.

I wrestled with these questions and others for two days and couldn't come up with any satisfactorily rational that would explain their deviant behavior. At that time I was unable to see the connection between love and cherish that prompts such a relationship. But mom and Mr. Dietz definitely have a successful relationship so there must be something that I was missing. I'd keep looking.

There was still the matter of my origin and the web site. On the first I would have to get the answer from mom. There didn't seem to be any records anywhere that revealed who had fathered me and in pre-law you get very good at research. I wondered if that had anything to do with their unconventional relationship. I mulled that thought over for a while. I had to stop myself when I began visualizing my mom taking a black man. Ugh. Not that my father is black, but just the image of my mom spreading herself to take a man not the one I had always seen her with. Where was all this taking my thoughts? I could tell that I was getting hot as I began fidgeting and rubbing my thighs together.

I'd have to get dressed. I jumped up from the bed, stripped off the towel and looked long at myself in the closet mirror. I couldn't help but wonder what I'd look like shaved like mom. Quickly I grabbed clothes and dressed. I didn't want these thoughts. Damn Cassie!

This time I sat at the desk like a student before continuing. Did Mr. Dietz know my dad? I searched further back in both of their timelines and found that they had gone to school together. Neither is identified as being a couple together or with anyone else in their yearbooks. I wondered if this is all some kind of punishment for something. An illicit encounter with a black man would certainly count. Nearly twenty years seems a long time to punish someone though. And why wouldn't mom leave him and be with my dad? There was still no clear answer. And I was still frightfully naïve about how far Dom/sub behavior can go.

Without finding a satisfactory answer to any of my questions I turned my thoughts to why do they have a web site? The easy answer is money. But lots of people I'm sure have robust and extreme sex lives but they don't post videos of themselves doing whatever nastiness they enjoy for the world to see. Obviously they are exhibitionists. EWWW! How would you like to find out your mom is an internet porn actress? That is what this was like.

Disgusted and nauseous I gave it up. All that really mattered was that I knew they both loved me and had given me the best that they had. The rest was really none of my business. I would decide whether to ask mom about dad or not when I got home. That should have been the end of it.

Back home we had a perfectly lovely Christmas break. It was great. Our gift exchange was modest as it should be between adults. Instead we spent the time as it should be spent with social activities, volunteerism and gatherings with friends. Of course I could see now so many of the things that belong to their kink imbedded in the everyday behaviors that I had previously taken for granted. Things other than always calling him 'Mr. Dietz' I mean. Things like mom never looking him in the eye, and always walking three paces behind, always waiting to be spoken to first. Really creepy behavior, on the whole of it, if you ask me.

I got to wondering what kind of changes they had made since I no longer lived there full time. Once I walked next to him instead of mom like I had always done before. The tension radiating from mom was palpable, but Mr. Dietz didn't react in the slightest. Neither did he respond noticeably when I took a call at the table which had always been forbidden. Mom practically squirmed each time I tested the limits. The absence of correction was quite puzzling. When I left at the end of nearly a month plans to uncover their dirty secrets had formed in my brain. Little did I know that the mystery of my family was becoming an addiction?

I bought a gift for Cassie on the way back to college as reconciliation. She was there when I arrived and we flew into each other's arms. Nip to nip; hip to hip; we kissed boldly. In one month I had greatly changed, no longer abashed by the implications of such innocent intimacy as we had before; now her taste on my lips was a sweet savor. "I brought you a gift."

She took the plain paper wrapped object from my hand. "I didn't get you anything. I'm sorry, I thought I had ruined our friendship." She nearly cried as she spoke.

"I love you. We're besties, silly." I held her close as we both blubbered forgiveness and apology crying. "I love you."

After regaining our composure Cass sat and tore the paper away. She held in her hand a stout leather paddle. Hard on one side and soft and furry on the other because I know she isn't that into pain. She stared at the shiny black object in her hands. For the briefest of moments I thought that I had made a mistake, but then she looked me in the eye and said, "I know the first person I'm going to use this on." She leapt at me. We dashed madly around our small room until we tumbled to the floor her on top as she playfully paddled me. I kicked and mock screamed just as I imagine she would do when she gave it to Gavin. Laughing, we held each other like sisters.

School began in mid-January as it always does. Students renew friendships and tell tales of gifts received and travels taken as they have always done. Gavin and Cassie put their new plaything to use immediately. And I returned to class not wiser but certainly not as naïve as I once was.

But the seed had been planted. What were mom and Mr. Dietz really like together? What kind of relationship could grow under those conditions? It kept me up at night. I had to find out.

So I took another class; a class on sadism; a class taught by my own parents. I watched every video in the In Slave D© archive over the semester. That was a leap into the deep end of deviant Dom/sub behavior. I'm sure that I'll be scarred by that for a long time. Most people work themselves up to viewing that level of perversion. But I wasn't there to gratify a sexual fantasy on my part. This was a concentrated search for information. The kind of research I could expect to do in my career looking for any trace evidence to support my case. And I can imagine that this wouldn't be the last time I'd look through someone's dark past to find their dirty secret.

The oldest video was roughly fifteen years old. In the stills section were some photos from still further back. They seemed to be personal pictures that documented mom's progress as Mr. Dietz' slave. The videos though are consistent with my experience of his love of structure. Each instalment chronicled mom's journey as a sex toy. Four to six weeks separated each one with a half dozen or more a year. In every video he is dressed in exactly the same suit, a three piece charcoal or light gray pin-stripe double-breasted three button suit depending on the season, pressed and new, shoes shined to reflection, black bow tie. He looked positively dashing. Both had on matching masks that changed each year. They were all thirty minutes to an hour in length and evinced Mr. Dietz' love of superior production quality. This included multiple camera positions, transitions, sound and editing.

The early ones were all focused on mom's training. They would focus on a rule or a behavior and go through the physical training and correction taken to make them a habit. During this phase mom often appeared simply naked and spankings with belts and paddles were the norm. Very quickly I could see that the spankings were not some kind of reward for her for good behavior. They were harsh and painful. She gamely answered each blow with a, "Thank you, Sir." It was clear to me that whatever drove mom to submit to this was not pleasure. The only gratification she received was the use of a large wand type vibrator once or twice. At no time did he ever disrobe or perform any sex act with either her or alone. Their motivation continued to be a mystery to me.

From the very first the collar was around her neck. As things progressed and became more disturbingly public he always led her by the leash. During the second year he moved beyond training to testing. The first video detailed his shaving her crotch. It was humiliating simply watching him treat her like no more than an object. Later he would put her in awkward, demeaning and humiliating situations like finding some fault with her attire and ordering her to strip in public. Honestly, a little tame as I would later learn. There were degrading acts like eating from a bowl on the floor while out to dinner. Her clothes got exchanged for restraints and harnesses and soon she simply never wore any outer garments.

I cried for a week after I watched the Christmas offering that year when she let him stretch her naked over a bench, bind her arms, legs and torso and branded her hip. To her credit she bit back her screams. The end of that video showed him treating the burn every day until she healed. I couldn't conceive of how anyone could accept that in this day and age. And there is the added complication of my being a black woman. I can't wait to hear how mom explains branding to me.

Each year became more extreme. Sometimes I'd have to take a break from the study just to get my own thinking back to normal after some particularly disgusting act like when he drove a large pink jelly butt plug home with the paddle.

During the semester Cass and Gavin were still dating and playing. I didn't have time to go on dates and to tell the truth was getting a little jaded about what dating really meant to a guy. I know that the two of them were going to the site. She didn't talk about it openly but every once in a while she'd make a little off-hand remark that could only have that as a context between us. She probably knew that I was watching the videos too. It just wasn't something that friends could talk about openly. You can understand that right? How do you say to your best friend, "Oh, I saw how Mr. Dietz masturbated your mom with a pool cue at the Fourth of July BDSM party in season three (really happened). That seems kinda fun, don't you think?" Or, "I saw how mom let all those men finger her on the street corner just like a whore (also happened). It looked really fun. Let's go try that." So we both kept pretending that we didn't both know every contour of mom's body and the things he made her do with it.

As the semester passed the motivation for them continued to elude me. Granted I learned things about sex that I wish that I hadn't. I learned what extremes a body can endure and I learned about how intense an orgasm a woman can have under the right stimulation. Sometimes I would be fingering myself as I watched mom get used. I even had dreams that I was getting used of spanked or tied down. My kitty would be juiced and flowing when I woke. At first these physical responses repulsed me. Later I began to accept them as not only normal but desirable. I couldn't help myself. If a person submerges themselves in this kind of filth for long they start to think that it is normal. I looked forward to the next video and the next one after that and so on. Sometimes I even sat naked while watching. Yes, these were all videos of my mom getting spanked and tortured. All he would ever grant to her was a 'Well done, slut,' at the end. Always the same.

By season four the sessions became so intense that she'd be drenched in sweat panting and even begging for him to continue. And still he wore the suit. He never even pulled his prick out to rub. And yes, by this time, I wanted to see his stuff. I was clearly losing myself. Sometimes after watching them at it I'd lay on my bed at night watching Cassie sleep, her round globes rising and falling, and fantasize not about her and Gavin, but about taking a dildo and mounting her myself. She is totally beautiful and sometimes I just wanted her. Sometimes I'd think about how it would feel for her to twist my nipples and take them between her teeth while I was tied to my bedframe. And I wanted that to happen too.

I think Cassie was having a similar feeling too. Before all of this we each took turns in the bathroom. Soon, though, barriers started coming down. She was the first to come in while I was showering. We have a clear curtain and even though I'm not as keen on being exposed as she is it didn't faze me at all that she could see all of me. And if you are wondering, and I know that you boys are, yes we did eventually take a shower together. We washed and lathered, running our hands over breasts and bottoms. There was laughing but no real talk of what we were both thinking. I wanted her hands to fully explore me as mine explored her. Her eyes sparkled mischievously with the same desire. We were about to kiss when I slid my hand down her tummy and between her legs then pressed a finger inside her kitty. She closed her eyes and moaned parting her lips in anticipation. I looked at those lips wanting nothing more than to smother them with my own. But I held back. Even though the heat between us was real this just was a step I wasn't prepared to take. I removed my hand from between her legs. She opened her eyes. All quiet we pulled apart and even though the touch of her rubbery nipples to mine sparked a fire in my loins I smiled ruefully and turned my back asking for her to rinse my hair.

We didn't talk about what happened, but we refrained from showering together again. We still shared the small room in the mornings and I know I became more open about my body around her. We just resisted going any further. We are friends and it is going to stay that way.

And we still shared knowledge of my mom.

Meanwhile mom was growing in her obedience. Mr. Dietz wrote that obedience is how she shows him how much she loves him. Placing her in the situations that he did was how he showed his pride and approval of her. Yes, that is exactly the claptrap he wrote to justify what he was doing. I wanted to scream when I read that. That is the worst kind of chauvinist sexism that ever existed. I couldn't believe that anyone would still think that way. I came to loath him the further I got into their perversion. What about mom though? Could she think that way also?

But how do I explain either of their motivations? I know that he is a kind and generous man. He never treated me any other way than with dignity and respect. And he taught me to expect that from others. Mom never displayed any indication of a lascivious or degraded personality around me. All indications as I grew up were that they loved each other.

As I continued to watch some of the videos were shot on location. That's how I learned what their weekend sabbaticals were about when I was a teenager. Some were shot at home. That's how I learned what their bedroom looks like. I'd never been allowed in. It's normal for the most part but they have furniture that stores their toys and hard point fixtures. That's also how I learned that mom sleeps on nothing more than a small futon at the foot of his bed. And I am very certain that is true all of the time and not just for the videos.

In the later years they branched out into more demanding, or should I say degrading experimentation. I won't try to guess when the first time was he had her falate another man; he didn't video it. I'm certain that they engage in much that was not recorded. There are lots of pictures throughout these years chronicling the debasing of my mom.

As my introduction to fetishism progressed at the hands of the two most important people in my life I came to look forward to what would be next for mom. Just like watching GoT. On one session he took her naked in the car to a tattoo parlor. Inside he discussed with the technician what he wanted for her nipples. I was rapt. I secretly longed to see when this finally happened. She lay passive in the chair. The man, tattooed from shoulder to wrist and with long ponytailed hair, absentmindedly fingered my mom. I watched as she tried not to squirm as she neared climax.

Their negotiation complete he turned to the business of piercing mom's nipples leaving her unrequited. She squeeked as each nipple was violated. When the rods were inserted the tech took a little super glue to each cap before screwing them on. My mouth fell open. Never in a million years would I have thought that those rods were permanent. It gave me a hot flash to think that she so trusted and obeyed that she'd allow something permanent like that. Of course she'd allowed the branding too. I stopped the feed.

I was thinking that mom allowed these things to happen. Maybe she didn't have a choice. That didn't seem right though. She has had plenty of opportunity to leave through the years. So why choose to submit?

And there it was. She had made a choice. She chose to submit. All these long years of torment and humiliation have simply been a test of her commitment to the choice. But why test her at all? Why make it hard to obey? Why does he punish her commitment rather than reward it? Or have I missed the whole dynamic? Maybe this is the reward she craves? I still couldn't wrap my mind around the mystery. None of that explained his agenda.

I returned to the tape expecting to see them leave. Instead she just leaned up, pulled the guy's trousers open and popped his cock into her mouth. I had to rewind that several times. She worked his cock like an experienced hand. Pardon the pun. As she sucked Mr. Dietz lifted her from the chair and with her bent over long hairs' lap he paddled the bejeezies out of her ass calling her a dirty slut. When the guy finally lost it she guided his spray over her new tit jewelry before sucking the last drops into her mouth. I wanted to wash my mouth out from just seeing that. But I watched it again and again. It's my favorite one of all. Even now I can't help but think what it would feel like to have my nipples pierced. When I watch I pinch and twist them hard.

He often calls her horrible names. She just says thank you and agrees. Sometimes he makes her call herself these degrading names. Somehow that is exciting to hear. I can't explain why.

As I moved to more recent seasons of their sexcapades about mid-term I watched the Christmas video from four years ago. This one was totally different. I'd been lounging on my bed touching myself in anticipation. I sat up straight immediately. Mr. Dietz had mom in the bathroom grooming her. This is a fairly common occurrence as he likes her to be pristine prior to violating her. He bathed her; shaved her legs, pits and kitty; exfoliated; rubbed her with lotion and dried her. By the end his sleeves were saturated to the shoulder. Any other time a woman was pampered like that you'd say it was decadent, but this was not. Somehow it felt like cleaning your pet. And it felt deliciously dirty.

After grooming his plaything and changing he led her by the leash to the car and drove to the mall. The same mall my friends and I cruised during summer breaks. They walked together inside. Yes, he led her by the leash naked bare foot through the parking lot while people were there shopping for presents. Amidst shocked stares they boldly walked into the salon and into a secluded room. It was riveting theater.

I don't know what I expected to happen next. It certainly wasn't the owner coming in and placing mom in a couch, or two young Asian women in sexy beautician garb with the fronts open exposing their breasts just short of the nipple and only thongs peeking from underneath. The surgical masks added a sorta eerie clinical element to the whole spectacle. Mr. Dietz simply watched the operation alongside the proprietor. She is a mid-five foot Chinese/Anglo mix woman nearing middle age with long jet hair tightly braided and coiled, shapely legs ending in bright red heels. It hardly mattered that she wore a lovely painted oriental mask because I know her. Mom has taken me many times to have our nails done together at her salon. The familiarity added to the debased titillation for me.

They talked casually as the two attendants gave mom a facial, manicure and pedicure. A third woman entered to style mom's hair. I couldn't believe this. Yes, there was humiliation in the way he just ordered up the primping, but she wasn't being tormented or abused. He was giving her a complete spa day. Wow! If you discount the nudity and fantasy girls this was all a very normal and loving gift. Except when it was necessary for the grooming no one touched mom in any sexual way. This seemed the tailored opportunity for a little girl-on-girl play and I could tell mom was desperate for something by this point. I really didn't know what to think. But it was making me hot.

Next they moved to a separate changing/viewing room. Mom stood on the dais as dress after dress was brought out. Some he selected and some he rejected. At no time did he ever consult mom; neither did she speak. He ordered her to don the selected gowns. I guess it hardly matters that she did so standing in the open like that as she has already been exposed in far too many public venues to be embarrassed now by the exposure. In each dress she turned and posed so that he could see the whole effect. This continued until he decided on a girlish pink, open back, plunging neck, sleeveless, mid-thigh dress. It narrowed tight to the waist and then spread to a flouncy skirt made for twirling. She stepped into matching pink heels that were set beside her feet.

Mom was just simply beautiful. She looked like a pink confection. The women buzzed around her for a few moments longer to ensure that hair, lips and nails all matched. I stopped the video. I'd never seen mom look lovelier than at that moment. Mom fairly vibrated with pleasure and excitement. Her jewelry clad nipples pressed visibly against the sheer fabric. She didn't smile; though I believe that she would have any other time though. I never decided if it was the pampering that excited her or the anticipation. It's certain that she knew that there were less charming things in store for her later that night. I'd like to believe she was savoring the moment while it lasted.

For the first and only time Mr. Dietz took mom out publically dressed appropriately. Everything about this video screamed that something special was going to happen. It is a tribute to his videography skills that the viewer could feel that it would be a nice ending. It wouldn't be.

I wonder at the psychological quirk that allows the viewer to leap to the conclusion that he's finally going to treat her well. Is it the pampering? Maybe it's the expensive dress and shoes? He'd never bought anything for her before that wasn't some kind of torture device. Could it have been her very visible sense of anticipation that misled us? I don't know. Because even with all that kindness he still led her by the leash out of the mall and again placed her in the rear seat.

I wanted to believe.

Only after they had entered the nightclub did he remove the leash. Then he did something he had never done, nor ever did again. He took her in his arms and they danced. The only flesh to flesh contact Mr. Dietz had ever given mom was a spanking. Now his arms encircled her waist. She held herself erect and looked directly in his eyes. It was magical! Mr. Dietz is a master of the film edit. He cuts and splices to move the action along; he knows how to direct the attention of the viewer; how to establish mood and emotion, and how to create dynamic tension. He did none of that. He simply let the dance unfold. I was mesmerized.

And then it was over.

They repaired to the bar. Several men looked hungrily at my mom. Mr. Dietz waved one over and right in front of mom paid him to take her back out on the floor. Unlike the first dance that channeled Fred and Ginger the subsequent ones quickly degenerated into sleazy groping. These men shamelessly mauled her tits and ass frequently lifting her skirt to get their hands on her bare bottom or at her kitty. One fellow simply pushed the top to either side framing her pert breasts in the open. He even bent to suck at her nipple as they gyrated across the floor. The lewd display continued. My hand at my kitty matched the work of these degenerates on my mom's. When I groaned I stopped the film again.

Some things to note: clearly Mr. Dietz has made use of one or more camera operators, so these events have been choreographed; the existence of a BDSM culture in our community and their participation in mom's degradation is well documented; this encounter seems to be one of pleasure rather than abuse; I had become completely engrossed in the voyeuristic stimulation. I washed my face and practiced breathing exercises until I calmed down. By then I was watching unclothed.

When Mr. Dietz re-leashed mom she was panting and flushed. He left her in the disheveled state as they returned to the car and then drove to a hotel. He made her stand bare chested at the registration desk as he checked in. The young man stared openly at my mom's tits. I was squirming in anticipation. It was impossible not to think that after all those years they were finally going to have sex together. More than anything else I needed to see them together in any way that approximated a normal romantic encounter. I was breathing heavily.

The hotel was superior. He had rented a suite for the occasion. Once in the room though things returned to normal. Well, normal for them. Mr. Dietz directed mom to step out of her shoes. He picked them up, walked to the dresser and struck the heels off of both in a motion so violent that it felt like he had struck her. I gasped at the brutality. He then berated her for the wanton way she had behaved on the dance floor calling her 'Tramp,' 'Whore' and the ever popular, 'Dirty Slut'. She responded obediently with, "Thank you, Sir and Yes Sir"

Next he grasped the front of the dress and tore it open down the front until it hung like a rag from mom's neck. By this he demonstrated amply that everything in her life came from his hand and could be taken away again. With the dress remains removed she now stood as I customarily expect her to be: naked. Then he turned her toward the bed with a sharp blow from the riding crop. The video now showed the room equipped with his traveling valise with many of his favorite implements. He cuffed a spreader bar between her ankles. The action proceeded inexorably toward some form of fiendish torment that he had not heretofore employed. I leaned forward with one hand feverishly rubbing at my kitty.

Her arms were restrained behind her back with the sleeve. He placed a collar around her neck that attached to the spreader bar which caused her to bend at the waist over the bed. The whole process reflected the same deliberate attention to detail that the earlier grooming had done. It felt sinfully decadent. He now began spanking her viciously for faults in her behavior. It should be noted that despite the very rigid codex of unacceptable behaviors governing mom's life Mr. Dietz frequently placed her in the position of having to break one rule in order to obey another. Case in point; he took her to the dance floor but she had to touch him to dance. He paid men to dance with her but she had let them grope her without permission. For each of the infractions he delivered stinging retribution with the leather paddle. And for each blow she said thank you.

The harshest punishment was for looking him in the eyes. The spanking was double; he stung her kitty with an electric prod, he placed a short dildo gag in her mouth and finally forced what looked to be an inhumanly thick plug into her rectum. Despite all the abuse, despite the name calling, despite the restraints everything continued to point toward the long awaited coupling between them. I was moaning and twisting my own nipples in anticipation. I wanted to see his dick. I needed to see him enter her.

Don't judge. I was presented with an unsavory, unnatural circumstance and tried to understand the unexplainable about my parents.

There were off camera sounds now as Mr. Dietz walked around to the other side of the bed next to mom's head. He sat down so normal and gentle. Drool was already oozing from around the gag. "You are such a Dirty Slut that I can't take you out anywhere without you embarrassing me. All you want to do is fornicate. You're a Dirty Slut. Look how I have to pay someone just to fuck your nasty, dirty cunt?" With those words three naked men stepped into the camera field as Mr. Dietz peeled off six hundred dollar that he spread between them. He looked down at her and said, "You are a disgusting, Dirty Slut. You're an embarrassment." It was only watching again much later that I saw her begin weeping when he said that.

Everything stopped for me. Sure there was going to be sex. We all saw that coming. Pardon the pun. But everything had led toward something personal and tender and loving between them. Instead the first cock I see enter my mom is some young dude that got paid to fuck her. Ignore the discontinuity of a daughter watching her mom get screwed at all let alone for the first time. Obviously not for the first time, but the first time in this twisted Sado/masochistic control fantasy they're living in. And it's a certainty that they weren't getting busy off camera. This site had existed for more than a decade and I am convinced that during that time that he had not allowed her any sexual satisfaction from him or any other source. Whether he was getting something on the sly I had no idea, but I doubted it. All this control takes far too much time to give only part of his attention to.

When the first guy stood behind mom with his dick aimed at her defenseless kitty and plunged in hip to hip without any preamble I raced to the bathroom heaving. I remained there hugging the bowl weeping uncontrollably until nothing but bile came out. The video continued to play. I could hear the grunts and slaps of fornication. The guys called mom ugly names. There would be breaks when I could hear Mr. Dietz berate mom for being cheap and easy as he spanked her for what she was doing with the guys he'd paid for. Then more sex sounds. I pressed my head against the cool porcelain long after the video stopped, crying softly.

That's where I was when Cass exploded into the room. She had to backpedal to stop. All the excitement drained away when she saw me huddled on the tile. Instantly she became the compassionate friend sitting and hugging me.

Naked I clung to my friend and wept bitterly. My tears soaked the shoulder of Gavin's concert T. When I could talk past the sobs I told her how Mr. Dietz had paid three men to fuck my mom. Ok, things aren't quite normal between us when I can say something like that to my friend and she can respond as if that is just a casual occurrence. "Oh, Babe, you're not going find the answers you want from watching that."

That is not the kind of comfort that I was expecting. "What answers are you talking about," I said all guarded like.

Cass was all tender confidence, "The 'why' of their relationship." She said it so matter-of-factly.

"Have you been reading my journal," Sudden changes in context can render amazing changes in emotional states. Thirty seconds into this conversation and the tears are gone and my voice is taking on a hard edge. It seemed that Cassie was taking liberties with my personal boundaries.

Unabashedly she said, "Yes." She didn't offer nor exhibited the slightest remorse at such a personal violation.

"Why?"

"Babe, I've been worried about you. It's what friends will do to protect each other from themselves."

I didn't know about that, but I couldn't fault her logic. I was indeed in need of a friend to look out for me. Only the briefest time lapsed before gratitude welled in my heart for her invasion. I needed her love so desperately at that moment indignation had no place in it. Again I held desperately to her and wept. I wanted to ask the questions of her. I wanted her to have the answers. I wanted her to tell me how to understand the unexplainable about my parents. But I knew she didn't have those answers any more than I did.

When I could, I asked her about the T-shirt. "Where are your clothes?"

Cass is no less subject to emotional swings than any other young woman when the subject is precious to her. Instantly she switched from tender comforter to giggling girl. "They're in the trash."

"I'm sure they can be cleaned. Why'd you leave them there? Gavin loves this shirt. You're going to stretch it out," which is true since she has a full bosom.

"That isn't going to be possible. We finally did it!"

Clearly I'm not as an attentive friend to her as she is toward me. I was at a loss as to what she could mean. I said so.

"We finally did public nudity." Not really the kind of thing one would think someone could be looking forward to or get excited about doing. "Over at the plaza we'd had dessert after the movie. You know the place I like so much? Well his car was just three rows deep in the parking lot and with the concourse the distance couldn't have been fifty yards. Just as we stood to leave I burped from the soda. Since we were outside at the patio I guess Gavin just thought that the time was right. He looked right at me and said, 'That was unladylike. You aren't fit to be a lady in public." He sat right down, pulled me over his lap, lifted my skirt, pulled down my underwear and spanked my ass soundly right there.

"I've got to say that the moment he took that authoritative tone I was completely at his mercy. I willingly went over his knew. Everyone on the patio stopped talking and watched him spank me. He did it so hard I was crying. It was so hot. When he stood me up he simply ordered me to undress. I didn't think. I just followed his command. This wasn't a sexy strip tease. I just took them off. I handed him my unbuttoned blouse and reached around and released my bra and handed that to him. The gasps made me start thinking about what I was doing. Instant flush. Before I could reconsider my decision he demanded the rest. Thankfully that got my attention back on obeying him. I let the skirt fall as soon as I released the button and then bent completely at the waist showing off my pussy to everyone as I removed my panties and handed both to him.

"I could feel the fear rising inside. He fixed me with his eyes and ordered me to follow him three steps behind all the way to the car. The stares were a physical weight. My whole body was aflame. At the curb any thought that this would be over soon ended when he dumped all of my clothes in the trash."

I just stared at my friend. At Christmas break I was sick listening to her recount what she and Gavin had done together that led to this whole sexual maelstrom. This time I eagerly consumed every sordid detail of their romp.

"It made me so horny. All I could think was that I was actually doing it and nothing bad was happening. And I felt a deep trust in Gavin that he wouldn't let anything happen to me. That gave me confidence. He never looked back. That kind of confidence was strengthening. I was proud to walk naked behind him. I had his cock in my mouth before he had the car started."

Gross. Why did she feel the need to detail her and Gavin's sexploits? It was undeniably arousing, though. I could feel the heat rising between my own legs. Again!

"I still had to walk from his car to his room. That was actually longer and of course I had to walk the halls of his building. But I didn't care. His cum hung from my chin. My nipples ached they were so hard. I didn't care about getting under cover; I just wanted to get to his room so I could fuck his brains out. I felt like a queen walking behind him naked."

I've never understood Cassie's habit of using obscenity freely when talking about what she and Gavin do together. It punctuated the story adding emphasis and emotion to the events in a way that a more articulate manner would not. The effect on the listener is electric. Thankfully she didn't describe the events once the door closed. But it made me want her to.

She stood pulling the shirt over her head, "I've got to bathe."

Both naked now she stepped around me and drew a bath. I closed the toilet and sat next to her. We kept talking as she washed. I lathered her hair and tried not to think about what she was cleaning out of her kitty as I did so. While she toweled off I put my normal bed clothes back on. I couldn't help but notice how slick I was between my legs or the way my nipples pushed visibly at the top.

The computer was still open on my bed. The video was ready to play again. I hesitated in embarrassment. Cass did not. She logged me out and closed it and then turned to me. "Babe, you've got to stop watching that stuff. Promise me you'll give yourself a break, please."

I couldn't argue with her wisdom. I just stood mute and sad. It felt like what I imagine an addiction intervention might feel like. There was self-loathing at my weakness and a longing to take the computer back and watch that video all over again just to reject her, and to satisfy my craving too. The force of the urge was so powerful I trembled and began crying softly again. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. Cass folded me in her arms once again. "Why are they that way," I sobbed?

She didn't answer. There wasn't an answer, and there never would be one. Cass laid me on my bed. She half climbed in with me. Her knee slid between my legs and up against my kitty. The hard pressure against my joy button felt good. Her hands were on my waist and moving upward. Her towel opened provocatively in the front. A quick glance down showed me her still damp curly blond tangle. She hovered inches over me. My own arms clung to her sides. I could feel her hands brush against my breasts moments before she would begin pushing my top up. Face to face. Both of our lips were moist in anticipation. I wanted her to continue so very much. I think I could be happy if I was hers. But I just couldn't commit.

"Cass, I'm not like that," I whispered sadly.

She stopped. It was almost a metaphysical cessation. I'd not meant a rejection of her and thankfully she didn't take it that way. It was just over like a ball game abruptly ends at the final out without denouement. Love for me still radiated from her every pore. I knew that she understood. "Neither am I," she confessed breathlessly.

She stood and pulled the towel free. She is gorgeous! Sexuality and innocence exude from her like the sun rising in the morning. I wanted very much to change my mind and take her nipple between my lips. "Come on," She said.

She gathered me in her arms and pulled me to her bed. I again protested that I wasn't Sapphic, but she shushed me and told me that I didn't need to be alone that night. We fell together into her bed. She held me close and I cried myself to sleep on her shoulder with my legs wrapped around hers, an arm over her stomach and my mouth not two inches from her delectable pink nipple. It felt so very natural to be together. And we were many times after that. Sometimes with me on top like that first time, or spooning, and even face-to-face with our legs tangled and breathing each other's air.

Of course I went back to watching the videos under Cassie's watchful supervision. The remainder of the archive was a progression of disturbed debauchery. It seemed that a change had happened and Mr. Dietz was merely seeking the most disgusting means of subjecting mom to repeated gangbangs. The unusual aspect was that mom seemed to really thrive under the degradation. My confusion about their relationship continued to grow. By the end of the term and my descent into the video orgy I'd decided to confront them and demand an explanation.

It was pompous of me to think that they owed me anything more than they had already given. And it was terribly ungrateful of me to think that I had a right to demand anything from them about their personal lives. I should have simply asked about my real father, but I was too far gone by then to think rationally. My progenitor was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to know what made this sick game of theirs attractive and I intended to make them show me. I had a plan ready when I returned home after the semester.

Here are a few quick remarks to set the stage for the finale of my story. Mom visited twice during the spring term. Cass and I played it cool over lunches with mom concealing our knowledge in the mistaken belief that we were sparing mom any embarrassment. It was silly of us to think that a woman that routinely goes naked in public and performs sex acts on camera can be embarrassed. But we felt we had a good handle on this 'don't ask; don't tell' secret life she was living little thinking that anyone with two decades of covert experience couldn't be deceived so easily. I practically screamed my awareness to them both during the Christmas holiday. Nevertheless, I acted the virginal ignorant that I thought she expected of me during both visits.

Furthermore, my obsession with their unconventional relationship had blinded me to the fact I really already knew the answers to these questions that plagued me so. Instead I sought to force some cathartic confrontation from the two of them. I wasn't so naive as to think that I could simply ask either of them what drove them to such bizarre behavior, or so I thought at the time. Had I listened to the advice of my friend when she suggested that very thing I'd have spared myself much trauma and embarrassment. But I didn't. I was filled with righteous indignation and an uncommon, for me, level of narcissistic hubris.

I love my mom. She is my very best friend and I am ashamed now to say that I returned her unconditional love with deceit, manipulation and anger. The anger rose from some childish conceit that she belonged to me. Not in the creepy way she belonged to Mr. Dietz though. And that conceit blinded me to the fact I had deceived myself as they played me so thoroughly. That's right, the rest of the way I marched to their tune without realizing it.

Mr. Dietz was much more confusing for me. He'd done nothing but the best for me my whole life. And nothing in the videos or on his site did anything to change that. But I was not only angry at him for what he did to mom; I still thought that he had somehow caused her to be become a degenerate, at this time I loathed him for stealing my innocence away with his perversions. Again this was me blaming others for my choices. True, my innocence of thought was gone. I can't count the number of times I now fantasized about getting it on with my mom or even taking him in my kitty for my first time. I just didn't want to own the responsibility for my choice to become perverse. I needed it to be his fault. I wanted it to be his fault almost as much as I wanted him.

And I longed for him to take it all away and make it like it was before I knew. I love him. And I loathed him. My heart ached from the abuse I'd heaped upon myself for five months like a child that breaks a bone and just wants dad to kiss the pain all away. At the same time deep inside the thought lurked that he hadn't had sex with mom because he found her somehow unworthy of his love. He'd certainly said that enough times for years. I harbored a secret hope that he could find me worthy and I would be the woman he'd take as his own. And I hated myself for that.

Again, don't judge. Despite being responsibly raised and an outstanding student and reasonably well-adjusted I was in a very sinister place emotionally at that time. Thankfully Mr. Dietz is who he is. Unfortunately at that moment I couldn't see that.

I knew that I couldn't just talk to mom because she'd go right to Mr. Dietz for permission first which I was certain he'd not grant. Asking Mr. Dietz (even then I couldn't help still calling him that though I loathed doing so) was out of the question as he'd not consent to any discourse that wasn't of his agenda. Somehow I had to trick them into giving me what I wanted. You can laugh now. It's ok. I do too now that it is all behind me.

So my plan was to surprise mom with my knowledge of their secret behavior and then coerce him into... well, I still didn't know what. I figured I'd do the same thing he did and stage the situation so that he'd give me the answer to why he does what he does because it would seem to be what he wanted. I know, total idiocy on my part. How am I, an untried sophomore, going to manipulate a man that's been doing this for near on two decades? But that was my plan. They so saw me coming.

So, now onto the finale, once home I slid back into the normal home routine as I had the previous year. Knowing what to look for I could tell that they were gearing up for one of their special weekends soon. I planned to turn that to my advantage. So shortly after lunch on a warm late May afternoon while Mr. Dietz was away mom and I stood together washing the dishes as we've always done before. He insisted that most of the household chores be done the labor intensive fashion. No complaints though, because I'm used to doing things that way, but I used the opportunity to catch mom off guard. "Why don't we just get a washer," I asked.

Mom answered with her usual stock reply about how Mr. Dietz prefers that we rely less on conveniences instead strengthening our competence. I nearly ground my teeth at that answer even though I expected it. Before she'd even finished I popped the next question on her. "What's your safe word?"

"Gabriel." Mom was stunned. She dropped the dish she was drying shattering it on the stone tiled floor. "Damn!"

I couldn't believe it. "You use my name," I gasped.

"Oh sweetie, I don't know what to say. I...we both knew I'd never forget that." We faced each other. Finally she asked, "How long have you known?"

Even though this is exactly the result I'd been aiming for the revelation that they had perversely used me in their sick fantasy game had struck me dumb. Mom was afraid. I could see that as tears misted at the edges of her hazel eyes. Surely she'd apologize or ask for forgiveness or show remorse I thought. That wasn't to be. She'd always done exactly what he'd commanded her to do. And right then I knew that she'd never used it. During all that time she'd not once been pushed too far. Not once had she feared or suffered or been repulsed by his demands. And that is what I knew she was really afraid of admitting to me. I wanted to scream. Instead I watched her kneel down and gather all the pieces of the broken plate even down to the splinters and place them all on a towel to present to him when he returned. It'd been ages since the last time a dish had been broken in his home. That's how I started to see it; his home. We both were just guests of his generosity. I still remembered what the consequences for breakage are.

The situation played into my hands, or so I thought.

Mr. Dietz practices a form of etiquette Domination bondage kink. He writes extensively about manners and courtesy as well as station specific behavior. For him it seemed that the world revolved around how the lower castes respect their superiors and how the upper castes take responsibility for the lower members. I'd misinterpreted what he was really doing thinking that he viewed the whole world that way instead of seeing how everything he did was strictly focused on mom. So I knew mom would present the evidence of her transgression to him as soon as he got back.

While we waited I questioned mom about what goes on between them. We sat at the table with the afternoon sun streaming in like two close friends having tea together. The reality couldn't be more different. Under our casual conversation we faced each other as adversaries. For me I tried to trick and interrogate mom until she gave up the secret to her submission. Devious turns of phrase and repetitive questioning were my weapons. For mom we were rivals for something I had not realized that I longed to have. She knew me better than I knew myself at that time. She never gave me anything more during that afternoon than I'd already read from their website. I seethed inside at how faithfully she conformed to his will. The worst was how she continued to insist that Mr. Dietz had done all this for her. We smiled at each other and pretended that we weren't both on the cusp of open warfare.

For the first time in my life mom didn't have any loving comfort for my distress. She empathized with my hurt but would not apologize for what she does. I'd never known her to distance me this way before and it appeared that it pained her to do so. No matter how much I pushed, or how graphic I described what I'd watched them do she was neither ashamed nor embarrassed. When in frustration at not gaining any admission from her I taunted her that he treated her like property.

"I am," was her unabashed response almost as if she was proud of the fact.

I couldn't process that. Even then I still thought of what they did together as a sick game they played. Hyperbole is all that was I wrongly thought. We lapsed into silence.

I tried a different approach. "Does it feel good," I asked? There was more to my question than just to get her talking. I wanted to know.

"Not always," was her measured response.

"Then why let him do those things to you?"

"Everything he does is good for me."

To simplistic I thought. More and more I began believing that he'd suppressed her intellect. Maybe he'd used drugs. More likely, having watched the process, it was a natural self-defense to cope with the unremitting cruelty she'd been subjected to. I knew that I had to get mom free from him.

We sat close to one another at the table corner. My hands were restless wanting to reach out to her both to convey support and to hold on to someone I thought that I could trust. I knew what would happen when he came home. I could see it in my mind. Part of me wanted to see this happen now that I knew it for what it was. He'd not punished me when I had transgressed at Christmas. That was a puzzle still. And I wasn't sure if I was grateful or disappointed. "Why does he do those things to you?"

"Because he loves me," all of her responses were direct. No prevarication. No hesitation. She truly believed that. We lapsed into silence again.

The sun eased toward the horizon. Inside its rays became golden and warm like a comfortable blanket. My thoughts turned outward. Mom sat straight in the chair looking calmly at me. There was much she could have been doing. Instead she waited patiently for me. If I had more to say she'd be ready. I did. I just couldn't decide what. The anger at them both roiled through my thoughts like a bubbling stew. I wanted to scream and rage at her and then him. But looking at mom I could imagine her as I'd seen her in so many of their films. I was seeing her uncovered breasts with weights attached to the bars pulling at her nipples. Would she be suspended from the ceiling by her wrists as he flicked the riding crop at her defenseless flesh or strapped to a chair impaled by an anal spreader? I licked my lips. Could mom read my thoughts? Did she know that I was turned on by what I'd seen her do? That I was turned on by her? I just knew that I had to bring their...whatever it was to an end. I had to do it for her sake and my own. But this was just the opening overture to the first act of our little play. We both marked the time until Mr. Dietz returned.

On his return events began unfolding like a well-staged play. Mom indicated by her stance that she had something to confess. I watched from my chair as he questioned her. She displayed the destroyed dish and identified the number of shards down to the slivers. We all knew what would come next, eighteen pieces; eighteen swings of the paddle, but it turns out that I was mistaken.

With downcast eyes, "...and I swore," she confessed.

Profanity is so absent from his home that her lapse should have been glaring to me. Instead I'd become so fixated on what I thought was my master plan that I'd missed the fault when it happened. Of course I couldn't anticipate the next part.

"She knows."

Come on! You wouldn't imagine that your mom would tell your dad that you were having a conversation about what they do in the bedroom. Neither did I expect that she would tell him. The lapse of control lasted only a moment before I reasserted what I thought was my control, "That's right." It was a challenge. I was putting him on notice, or so I thought.

He didn't acknowledge my statement. Instead he pointed to the trash where mom took the dish remains. Mr. Dietz went to his room to retrieve the paddle. I expected the light wooden one he'd customarily used on her for this offense. Surprise again, he returned with a cruel studded leather one. Mom promptly bent over at the waist and raised her skirt in preparation. Surprise number two was the grip for a plug nestled in her crease. So there had been some changes since I moved out.

Mom's ass is flat and lean with taut muscles rippling beneath her pink skin. Nine strokes to each cheek. Bruises began even before he'd finished. I bore witness to his cruelty not averting my eyes for even one stroke. It was even more arousing in person than when watched on screen. My kitty juiced in a flash. I even fantasized about receiving a spanking wondering if I could withstand the pain as well as mom. She thanked him after each blow. Tears streamed freely down both of our cheeks, but neither of us would yield.

Finishing he checked the fit of the plug pulling it partially free then reseating the invasive devise. Next he walked to the window seat. Inside he removed a full head mask. Motioning mom over he made her strip, handcuffed her arms behind her back and placed the hood over her head making sure that every strand of hair was confined and that the eye and mouth zippers were securely closed. On his command she stepped sideways into the box and folded her petit frame into the narrow space. He closed the lid and placed a pin in the latch.

Dumbfounded I watched numbly as he placed mom in an isolation box. I'd never seen him do something like that before. She seemed to expect it and even know exactly how to maneuver blind to get in. How many times had he done that to her I thought? "You're a bastard," I breathed. "Are you going to do the same to me now?"

"No."

We faced each other like gunfighters. "I swore." It was a challenge and a question.

"You are a guest."

"Is that why you didn't say anything at Christmas?"

He knew what I was talking about. A nod was his answer. I said earlier that Mr. Dietz is fixated on manners. In his philosophy a host would cater to every whim of his guest even if the guest was boorish. "Am I just a guest now? This isn't my home any longer?"

"This is still your home, Gabriel. You're an adult and deserve to be treated like one. Guest is the standard that applies to you now." That was strangely informative. He turned to the kitchen to complete the interrupted meal preparations.

Uncertain how to proceed I followed him to the kitchen. We stood shoulder to shoulder as we fixed dinner. Thousands of times I've stood exactly like that with him on one side and mom on the other. That night it felt both normal and unnatural with mom in the other room locked in a box. My mind raced through the implications. I found myself fantasizing that now he and I could...well, you know, I shook it off as we sat down to dinner, baked seasoned white fish with sautéed asparagus and a green salad. Nearly an hour had passed since mom went into the box. "You can't just keep a human being in a box," I said between bites. That whole scene we played out was as surreal to me then as it is to me still.

"The Dirty Slut must learn to behave herself." Using his pet name for her shocked me to silence. He'd not lost track as I had done that she'd told him that I knew about their twisted sex life.

It took me a moment to put it all together. Tentatively to start and then stronger I said, "I'm not going to let you treat mom that way anymore." Pride and courage filled my heart as I stood against his bullying as I thought of it then. I promised myself that I'd find a way. "I'm going to let her out."

If I thought he would argue or rage I was wrong. All he said was "Do as you think best."

I wanted it to be as calm and dignified cross to the window as he'd been putting her in there, but I raced to it and threw myself at the latch. I pulled mom free. Still masked, gagged and cuffed I held her arm as I demanded of him the keys. At that moment I didn't' know whether he'd relent or not. He nodded in the direction I needed. Shockingly, once freed mom walked straight to him, knelt and thanked him for correcting her misbehavior. I was horrified. Next she got a plate and took her customary seat naked at the table. They both looked to me as she invited me to return to my dinner.

Shocked I did so and we finished in silence.

I thought that I had won a victory over him, but mom turned it to defeat so easily. Many of you will recognize that I was not in control of the situation. The victory had been his all along when I did exactly what he wanted me to. They both knew he owned my actions by then. It would be much longer before I knew it.

Several days passed without incident as I struggled to make sense of my conflicting desires. I kept thinking of how mom said she was his property. I could use that. But what did she mean? I'd seen her tortured for manufactured offenses. It was almost as unpleasant to watch that happen to her as I could imagine it was to endure it. And each time she thanked him for it. Could she really think that the floggings were good for her? Certainly she enjoyed the fornication. Anyone could see she climaxed repeatedly as they used her. Did she like being used as a receptacle for men's lust? How could any woman embrace being used that way? Had he trained it into her?

What about my feelings? When he lifted her skirt I flushed excitedly to see the plug in mom's rectum. I thrilled to the power of releasing her against his will, or so I thought at the time. I lay awake each night wondering if he was spanking her or masturbating her in his room. Why wouldn't he just fuck her? I would've in his place. Why didn't she leap on him to force his member into her over stimulated kitty? I would've. Two rooms down mom lay naked on her futon. I lay naked on my bed. I wondered if she would just watch as I entered his room and mounted his prick as he slept. Sleep was fitful.

The next playdate rapidly approached. I needed to act decisively. Dinner conversation each night was relegated to just Mr. Dietz and I. Mom sat at her place quietly until he or I spoke to her. I secretly reveled in this power over mom. Twice she was naked as we ate. Even though I'd seen her naked before now I looked at her as a woman. The gleam off the bars drew my eyes to her tits. I caught myself wondering what they would feel like between my lips. I knew if he told her to she'd let me suck them. I kidded myself thinking that I was still only slipping to their level.

"Slavery is over," I stated flatly.

"This isn't the same."

"She thinks she's your property."

"That is because I bought her."

Stunned, "You vile bastard! Am I your property too because I'm her child?"

"Not at all, you were born before I bought your mom."

"How can you do that stuff to mom," I wailed in frustration?

"I do what is necessary for her good as I've always done. Gabriel, please try to forgive us for being who we are and put away this obsession that is eating you up inside."

He sounded so sincere. Mom looked equally so despite not speaking. I wanted so much to believe him at that moment. I should have listened, but I just couldn't stop. I knew that it was wrong for him to own another person. I knew it was wrong to want him inside me; that it was wrong to want my mom just as much. And I knew that I was the one to free mom and bring this to an end. Again I lay awake on my bed wondering how he could look at her beautiful body and let any other man touch her. I envied her well-proportioned body. My hips are too wide I think. I took off my sleep wear. I cupped my breasts thinking about how Cassie felt pressed against me. I thought about calling her. I wondered how mom would feel. We're the same height so we are nip-to-nip to each other. My waist is straighter than hers, but I could see kissing my way from one side to the other. How would her lips feel against my skin? Would mom be grateful enough for being freed that she'd go down on me? I'd become completely depraved.

The closer the day got the more excited I became. My kitty was in a constant state of lubrication. Mom works out every day. Normally we go to the gym together when I'm home but I stayed away out of fear for how much I wanted to see her body. Unable to stand it any longer though I went with her that last day before the end. I picked machines facing her so I could shamelessly stare at her chest. Each cap end and the nipple between stood out in sharp relief under her form fitting workout top. The cameltoe caught my attention when she dismounted the stationary bike. I was wallowing in lustful thoughts of my mom. In the shower afterwards was nearly too much. Again I was drawn to a woman's body. If I could just muster up the courage to reach over and take the soap from her hand and finish the job for her. Or just pull her nipple. Shame stayed my hand. It wouldn't be any different than the way Mr. Dietz violates mom.

We sat together at our lockers. Mom talked. I wasn't listening. My mind was trying to come to grips with how an innocent young woman can go brazenly topless with her towel around her hips only while, let's be honest here, a 'Dirty Slut' wraps hers under her arms modestly. I didn't know any longer if I wanted mom as a lover or to become Mr. Dietz'.

Desperate to end the mire of degenerate pondering that my thoughts had descended to I asked the only question I could hope to get a clear answer to, "Mom, who is my dad?" It was the only thing that I could think to say that wasn't a confession of desire.

For the first time since I got home she looked genuinely distressed, embarrassed even. "I don't know," she replied.

Deep inside me I feared that answer more than any other. I broke down right there. I didn't care any longer about the lust or the sex or the punishment. I just needed my mommy. I reached for her so very afraid she'd reject me. She didn't. Enfolded in her arms and held tight to her bosom I wept openly crushing my face against her neck.

So I wasn't to know who my father was. I'd had enough of the emotional spiral and I determined that I would bring everything to an end that night. When Mr. Dietz returned home I confronted him. "I'm not going to let you keep using mom."

"Why do you think you can tell me what I can do with my property?"

Ok, we're in a showdown. Mom is watching from the dining room. I'm facing Mr. Dietz. He and I go back and forth. I'm frantically constructing arguments to blast his assertions. He's standing calmly as if he has nothing at stake. Anger seethes inside. I fight it down and force myself to stand my ground and keep my voice level. The cause is lost because I've nothing to overturn his claim to ownership and I know it. And as long as mom accepts that as true I've no hope at all. Despair rose up and threatened to drive me crying from the room. I knew if I did though he'd never meet me like this again. But I'd lost.

We all knew it was over. They'd go on their kinky fetish trip and I'd weep alone for the weekend. I wanted to ask mom's forgiveness for failing. I wanted him to break like I was inside. This isn't how normal families behave. Why couldn't she just tell him no even once? There at the last gasp of resistance when I was weak and willing to grasp at straws he threw me the rope.

"You lack the strength to act on your convictions."

Tired and defeated I asked, "What do you mean?"

"You want me to do something but haven't considered what you're willing to do to achieve your goal."

We still faced each other. The fight wasn't over. I lunged for the rope scrambling mentally to choose a new path. You can see how he played me, right? Even if I'd been at my best I'd not have known how completely he owned me already. It was an intuitive jump. Afterward I couldn't tell you how I came to that conclusion. I just blurted out, "I'll take her place!"

There was silence. The room became attenuated. It felt like I was separate from my body. Behind me it was like I could actually see mom. The light became a physical thing. All the furniture pulled at me. My head swam. "I'll take her place. I'll become your slave."

He shook his head, "This isn't the life for you."

"You have to take me," I screamed.

"No I don't."

I wasn't lost yet. He'd given me the opening and now I knew what he valued and I intended to exploit that. Swallowing hard I said, "I can do it. I can prove it." And right then I knew that nothing less than total commitment would sway him. The same commitment that mom had given for all those years. Could I do that? I'd seen the things he'd done to her; seen the things he'd made her do. I was frightened by the possibilities. "It'd be better for you with someone that is willing."

"You think your mom isn't willing?"

"Of course not," I argued. "Why else do you have to control her?"

"I do not control your mother any more than I control you. Is control and power the only thing you think is going on here?"

"Isn't it?" I was gaining new steam. "That's what your whole pervy sex thing is; forcing mom to do nasty things so you can have your power rush." Self-control was slipping away. My voice started to become shrill.

"You understand nothing about either of us. We both need what the other can provide."

"That's a lie," I nearly screamed at him. "Do we have a deal?"

"No."

"Why not? Are you afraid because you can't love me?" I don't know why I said that. I'd lost all perspective. Here I was arguing why I should replace my mom as my father figure's sex slave. I'd convinced myself that I was the only one that could free mom. It was fear and innocence and lust coming out. Could I be the one to finally get close to Mr. Dietz? At that moment I was literally fantasizing about him taking me for the first time after torturing my titties while bound to a St. Andrews Cross. Yes, I'd learned the tools and lingo of BDSM. I was lost.

"I love you very much, Gabriel. Your mother needs me though; you do not. I'll not part with my property."

He paused as if considering. Then he went to the table and invited me so very politely to dinner. Mom immediately rushed to the kitchen to retrieve dinner.

With tears streaming freely down my cheeks I whimpered, "You've got to. I don't have anything else."

I couldn't conceive of the monstrousness of their relationship. He owned her. She'd been bought with a price like a piece of candy. She willingly obeyed. He gained something from her by her consent. She needed his control. Only becoming more than what mom was could sway him I wrongly thought. I choked the words out, "I've only me to offer. I'll be yours right now." I pulled my blouse over my head. "I'll submit." I wanted to say 'like mom,' but I knew that'd be a lie because I couldn't endure what she could. I let my skirt fall to the floor.

Mr. Dietz stood by his chair watching me. Mom set the table but wouldn't watch. Could I take the next step I wondered?

Barefoot and trembling I reached behind my back and released the catch on my bra. It joined the growing pile. My nipples ached they were so hard. I wanted to pinch them. Lastly I peeled my cotton panties down. I stood naked in his presence. The tears rolled again.

I'd done it. It's what I'd been working so hard toward without acknowledging that this is what I wanted. I stood shameless before the man who'd raised me with my pert breasts and the tangle between my legs hiding my pulsing kitty on full display to him. I don't know what I thought would happen next.

"Please dress and come to dinner," was all he said before taking his seat and not looking my way again. Nothing could disturb his calm.

I wanted to rage. I wanted to demand that he take me seriously. If he would just do something; spank me, fuck me. I didn't care. He just quietly ate dinner with mom.

"No'" I said flatly.

And that is the way the rest of the evening went. They ate and I stood naked. After Mr. Dietz retired mom came to me picking up my clothes. She didn't seem either to blame me or resent me. Neither did she cheer me. She seemed to accept what I was doing like it was no more than rain falling.

"Please get dressed Baby?"

I'd thrown myself at her owner. I finally accepted that is what he was to her. She didn't seem offended. Not jealous. Not excited, just accepting and kind. "He has to let you go, mom," I said.

"You don't know what you're offering. This is very dangerous for you. Please put your cloths back on and let me help you understand." In a way she was offering to give me some of the answers that I so desperately wanted, but I'd gone too far. I'd shown myself to him and nothing less than his passion, or lust, or pride, or whatever it was that made him who he is would stop me. And I knew then looking at her that she understood.

"I can't. I've got to know for myself."

She left me there. I'm certain mom could remain standing all night without sleep or a toilet break, but I couldn't. After they were well asleep I snuck to the bathroom and then back to the sofa for a quick nap. My phone alarm had me up and back in my place before he came out of his room. They ignored me as they went about their business like it was any other kink weekend for them. This was the day though and I intended to change the story this time.

Mom left first. That was unusual enough to catch my attention. Of course I had no way of knowing if he'd already filmed his grooming her that morning. I had to assume that he had. However; he produced no camera to my knowledge. I watched him like a wary marmoset. Finally he approached. I wondered what he would do now that mom was no longer here. My heart fluttered in anticipation.

"Would you like to put some clothes on," he politely asked.

I just shook my head. He turned to go heading directly for the front door. Instinctively I knew I had to follow if I hoped to succeed. Three steps out the door I remembered I was naked. I'd become so used to it and they'd not acted as if anything was out of the ordinary that I'd completely forgotten. I hesitated for only a second before walking calmly to the door he held for me. It was the front seat. He never let mom ride here. Plus she'd always held the door for him before climbing in the back seat. I was confused as we drove off.

The seat belt across my bare lap and between my naked breasts felt positively decadent. Fortunately I'm a petit so my tits weren't readily visible to other passing motorists taking some of the anxiety away. I resisted the urge to ask him where we were going and even managed to keep my eyes straight ahead. I was trying to remember all the things that I know mom learned and did and do the same, but I knew that was going to be impossible. While my thoughts wondered to all the humiliating things that he'd compelled mom to do over the years and that I'd now volunteered for he'd parked the car at our destination. It was the mall!

He knew that I'd watched the videos. He could assume rightly that I'd seen this one. How could he not know what kind of meaning this would have for me? Was I going to start right off by losing my innocence in a gangbang? He'd never repeated a scenario with mom in any of the videos. When he opened the door for me I was trembling. This wasn't like mom though. I wasn't property. He opened doors for me. I rode in the front seat. Did he have something different in mind too I wondered?

The moment of decision had come. Could I bear the public scrutiny? Cassie came to mind. I remembered how submitting to Gavin's will had empowered her to do this. But Mr. Dietz hadn't commanded anything yet. I was trying to prove that I could be just as submissive as mom. OK, the astute out there will notice that I'd repeatedly not obeyed Mr. Dietz. His eyes seemed to say he wanted this to stop. I mustered my courage and stepped out on the hot pavement barefooted. Mom's torment had to end and this was the only way to do that.

With eyes locked head on, I tender-footed it along next to him. I placed one foot in front of the next. We were at the side walk Mr. Dietz pacing me unhurriedly. Then we passed the doors. Fear and shame flamed my skin even darker than normal. Would mall security arrest me? Were my friends here? That last thought almost did me in. I stopped. I wanted to look around for familiar faces. And just like that I was frozen in place wanting to flee but not being able to force my limbs to obey. Mr. Dietz cleared his throat next to me. Out of instinct I looked at him. Unabashed affection for me radiated from his person. His eyes seemed to say, 'follow me and I'll get you through this.' He took a step. I copied him. We started moving again. Thank God!

We walked through the salon past startled women. It was at this moment that I came to realize how choreographed those videos are. These people had no expectation that a white man would walk through their midst with a naked black woman in tow. I could hear the shocked exclamations as we entered the sequestered spa station. Sue exploded into the room raging like a wet hen. "Dietz, have you lost your mind coming in during regular hours? And who is this tramp you've brought into my place. Where's Dinah" she scolded in accent tinged English? She hadn't looked at me yet.

She'd not looked at me once. I stood facing Mr. Dietz waiting. When she turned to me her mouth fell open in shocked recognition. "My God! You can't mean to include her?" She looked searchingly at him. So she'd been aware of what they'd been up to. Not surprising. A small thrill ran up and down my spine at the thought she knew what would happen to me soon.

"Carson," she called him by his given name unexpectedly, "You can't do this. Take her home this instant. I'll not be a part of soiling her."

"She insists on taking her mother's place. She is choosing this path. I can only respect her right to make her own decisions, but please persuade her otherwise if you can."

Sue looked at me for a long time before saying, "When was the last time she bathed?"

A more embarrassing thing she could have said I can't think of. I blushed.

"Come with me Gabriel." I looked at Mr. Dietz and he nodded. Sue took me to a spacious room with a large bath. "Gabriel, please let me take you home. I'll get some clothes for you and..."

I was shaking my head, "I've got to take my mom's place. She has to be free of this."

Sue stopped washing me at that. Her hands are soft and she knows how to caress soothingly. The water came to just under my breasts which she cupped with the soft wash cloth. When she started again she said, "It's not like what you imagine between them. She's the very best of all of us. No one can," she paused, "well, no one is as perfect as her."

I listened. I couldn't believe how much Sue knew about mom and Mr. Dietz. So many things that were hidden from me she had been privy to for years. "Why does he do it?"

"He does it because he loves her." She could see the answer wasn't satisfying to me. "Carson loves your mom so much that he has the courage to give her exactly what she needs even though it costs him everything he desires."

I stood as she dried me, "I can't understand what that means. Why does she let him treat her so...awfully?"

"Your mom is who she is. Out of respect and gratitude for his sacrifice she gives him her best because it's all she has to offer."

Here I was getting exactly the answers that I wanted and I couldn't understand what she meant. I shook my head. "I'm not going to let mom be his property anymore."

"That isn't for you to decide. Please stop this before it goes too far."

But I wouldn't be stopped. And eventually Sue realized that. We returned to the private salon where Sue did my nails and hair herself. Except for the tarts it was exactly like mom's day. The dress was edgier than mom's was. It was bronze with a single front to the collar, backless A-line to just mid-thigh, in other words a nightclub dress. It was eerie going through the same ritual that mom had. I knew how that day was supposed to end, but there were differences and I wondered if they were enough to save me? I didn't know what salvation would look like though? Would he take me home and then take me for his own? Or not? Would we go through the whole pattern including the gangbang? Was this to be my first time with a man? Could Mr. Dietz test my resolve to see if I'd go all the way and let three randy studs fill my virgin kitty to over flowing? God, my thoughts were sick at that moment. I knew that I wanted that very thing to happen. I was steeling myself to accept being used vilely. And, oh did I want it. The only scenario that I feared was for nothing to happen.

We drove together to the club. I recognized the route. I wanted to ask him questions. I could have. I just stopped myself erroneously thinking that I had to wait to be spoken to. In my mind I made myself his; well I don't know what, sub, slave, property. The pampering had already started the excitement. Anticipation thrummed inside me. Inside at the club he took me to the dance floor just like he'd taken mom. He is a superb dancer. Song after song we spun around the floor. We looked unflinchingly in each other's eyes. Instead of finding cruel or dead eyes as I expected his were soft and sad and radiated love. What kind of man was he I wondered? And what must it be like to belong to him the way he required? I was simultaneously drawn and repelled by the implications.

And like mom's adventure everything unraveled. We excited the floor taking places at the bar. It was impossible to not be aware of the eyes taking note of me. It thrilled and excited me to be an object of lust just like mom. A man started for us. He was dark and tall with wavy black hair and leered more than smiled.

"After the dance try telling him that he can take you home and be your first for a thousand dollars," Mr. Dietz whispered in my ear.

I stared at him in shocked horror as the young man led me back to the floor. Unlike Mr. Dietz this fellow allowed his hands more freedom. One held my hand as the other curled around my waist with his fingers resting over the top of my crease. He set a fevered pace which in my distracted state I was hard pressed to keep up with. The music ended. I pulled away gently and the decidedly disappointed man turned to return me to Mr. Dietz, who was watching me. I shuddered under his penetrating scrutiny. I trembled. I knew that if I said it I'd have to follow through if the man accepted. He wasn't the one I wanted though. We were nearing the bar. Mom could do it. And then I remembered why I'd started down this road. I stopped. He looked at me hopefully. Slowly at first then gaining confidence I said, "I'm a virgin. If you'd like to take me home you can have me for a thousand dollars."

We stood looking at each other. Finally he shook his head sadly, "You are undoubtedly worth every penny, but...not tonight." He finished escorting me back to Mr. Dietz.

"Try smiling this time when you offer yourself for five hundred dollars at the hotel across the street."

This wasn't anything like I imagined it would be. He was discounting me! Another gentleman took my hand and led me back to the floor. This one was tall with short blonde hair and a well-muscled chest. He was so handsome I just fell into his arms. He pulled me close with my breasts crushed against him. His hands slid down my sides sensuously. Slow and languorously around the floor we turned. When the song ended I said quietly hoping that he'd say yes, "I'm yours for five hundred dollars across the street." He too shook his head and returned me to my escort, owner, pimp?

"One hundred dollars in the car," he whispered in my ear even as I was drawn back to the dance floor.

Again I said it. It became easier with repetition, but no less frightening, and exciting. My heart raced. I don't know which I feared more; that I'd eventually reach a price that was too irresistible, or that no one would say yes. Again I was rejected.

"Ten dollars here on the floor."

What we reached was my limit. I thanked my last partner for the dance but that was all. Back at the bar I couldn't look Mr. Dietz in the eye for shame. I was ashamed that I hadn't offered to fornicate! I was ashamed that I'd failed to obey. And ashamed that I wanted to go back and say it after all. And I was getting so very wet too.

Quietly and with tenderness he leaned close to me and softly said, "Trust is a hard thing to give. Forgive your mother for being able to give it."

I didn't know what to make of that then.

We left the club. Our next stop was the hotel. I knew and feared what must come next. I wanted Mr. Dietz to take me to his room. I wanted him to take me. I hoped that there had been enough changes in the program to mean that the ending would be different also. There were so many things that I wondered if I would be able to do. So very many things that I feared I'd be compelled to do, and the things that I knew in my dark places that I longed for him to make me do. But not for I a minute did I doubt that I would open myself to him if he wanted to take me.

At the desk the night manager looked at me as if he'd seen a ghost. "Is that her," he asked in a hoarse gasp?

Mr. Dietz simply nodded.

"Sir, please don't do this. She doesn't belong here. Please let me take her home immediately?"

"You'll have to ask her."

The night manager turned to me so earnestly and asked, "Miss this is no place for you. What he does, well, it's not safe for you. I'll have the hotel driver return you homme or to any destination you wish."

Here was another person that knew more than I did about the two closest people in my life. I started to resent being kept in the dark. He was genuinely afraid for me. His fear added to my own which in turn fueled my lust to discover what extremes I'd be capable of, so I shook my head no.

Just like that Christmas four years earlier we stood facing each other in the suite. He told me that services have prices and as I hadn't any means on me at the time to pay for Sue's ministrations some other way had to be found; hence, the offers at the club. As that failed to produce I wouldn't be able to keep the goods Sue had provided. He asked me to step out of the shoes. I expected that he'd destroy them similarly, but he didn't. He stepped behind me and unfastened the dress lifting it over my head. His fingers lightly stroked my ribs as he did. He placed both in the closet. Once again I stood naked in his presence. By now the thrill and desire had reached such a fevered pitch in me that it was a struggle not to leap into his arms. Only his personal aura of dignity kept me rooted in place. For the first time I truly felt the power of the man. He could own me completely and I'd willingly go at his command.

My body trembled with excitement. Whatever happened next I was certain that I was about to have my first sexual experience. Fear and anticipation warred in my stomach. To this day I still do not know which I truly wanted more; Mr. Dietz alone or three randy studs plowing me savagely. He left me there retreating to the bathroom. I could hear him showering and grooming. Time stretched agonizingly. When he came out in his suit with the mask I knew it would be the three. From behind he fitted a simple mask over my eyes disguising my identity and then gestured toward the adjoining door.

I was going to be made part of his sado-lifestyle. There wouldn't be any build up to the worst like with mom. He was going to the extreme immediately. I stood at the door. I knew that if I walked through there would be no going back. There would be no redemption for me. There'd be no future or identity for me any longer. I knew that the only way I could survive what was going to happen to me was to lose myself in his ego. How could any sane person do that? And how could I not go through to the other side? This was the way to free mom I kept lying to myself.

Blood was coursing through my kitty so forcefully the throbbing was a physical pain. I was slick and drooling. My nipples jutted painfully. Standing on the verge like that I had to confront my uncertainty. Was I to be my mom's savior, or Mr. Dietz' lover, or mom's lover, or an object; how was I to decide? Or would he? Fear and lust raged deep in my inner most being. He watched me. I looked in his eyes. And then I knew. If I cried enough right then he'd take me home without judgment regardless what was happening on the other side of that door. He waited for me. And right then I knew that if he wanted me to be a whore for him then I would be that whore. I stepped forward and without word he opened the door.

A gush of stifling warm air washed over me. It smelled stale and sweaty and of something else I'd not encountered before; sex. An impossibly bright light for a hotel room spilled across the floor at my feet. I had to blink to adjust to the intensity. Even before I crossed the threshold the sounds of low conversation spiked with the groans of human struggle flowed on top of the hint of music. Once inside I saw that the room was filled with naked men pulling slowly at their cocks. I stopped mesmerized, and a little fearful. Hardly any took notice of our entrance. Instead all the focus was on the bed. Stripped down to the fitted sheet and illuminated with harsh Klieg lights a knot of human flesh struggled together on the bed.

The spectacle was riveting. Terror and lust turned my stomach upside down and I could no longer tell the difference. I knew what all those men were there to do, and essentially so was I. This would not be gentle lovemaking. It would be savage fornicating. There would be no consideration for either my feelings or my inexperience that night. How could I take more than one in my untested kitty? More frightening still was the very real possibility that they'd sodomize me. I shuddered. I should have run then, but lust rooted me to the spot. Forget my fear and trepidation. In my inner most being I knew that I wanted to be just as violently used as mom was being.

Movement to my left drew my attention. A slim young man narrow in the waist and shoulders started to approach me. I turned to face him. He smiled almost warmly as he neared stroking his stiff cock. I forced myself to wait while looking him in the eye. So this was to be my first? I nearly retched knowing it wouldn't be the man I wanted. And then he stopped. His eyes focused past me as the smile faded from his lips. With a shrug he turned back to the action on the bed where he made his way ready to join in. Behind me Mr. Dietz must have refused to allow him to have me. All at once my heart soared as I realized that he'd fenced me off. Was this so he could keep me for himself? Did it meant that he treasured me more than...mom? Would he be my first after all? And would we do it right here with an audience or with mom? I wondered if I could with my mom. I too turned back to the center of attention this time with more anticipation than dread.

Far more was being imagined than had actually happened to me and what had happened was mostly of my own manufacture. I couldn't see that then. My thoughts had become completely unbalanced. The longer I remained in that room watching mom be violated the closer I came to accepting it for myself. I'd reduced myself to animal impulses. I watched man after man climb on mom and all I wanted was to be in her place.

It took some minutes after we entered the room for me to decipher the objects on the bed. As I did my shock grew. Needless to say mom was surrounded by eager men; four of them, one between her legs, one on both sides of her head, and one underneath. She was only partially visible through the press. One had his hands over both ears pulling her mouth onto his cock. Wet gagging sounds accompanied his forceful mouth fuck. On the other side waited a long penised stud smiling malignly. She was on her back so the man underneath was obviously buggering her. And the final one was rapidly pounding at her. They called her bitch, slut, whore and other awful names. When her mouth was free of cock she urged them to fuck, 'this whore slut harder.' Strings of semen crossed her stomach, chest and cheek.

Then men would take turns at her. If they started to reach climax too soon they'd approach and either unload down her throat or spray pearly ropes across her body. No one was out of service for too long as she'd take them in her mouth to restore their vigor. I watched as the stud between her legs stiffened and roared as he shot his load deep inside. I cannot explain the intensity of my shock as I watched him pull away only to see his member slip from her rectum. They both were in simultaneously. The hideousness of such an act overwhelmed my senses. A string of cum dribbled from her stretched out anus. Underneath the other fellow drove his own cock deeper into her savaged opening.

I was in disbelief that any human being could take that kind of abuse and yet here was mom not only doing that very thing but reveling in it. As soon as he pulled free another took his place thankfully taking aim only at her kitty. The spent man walked to the other side and drove his softening soiled cock right down her throat. Likewise she cleaned every one of them regardless of what orifice they'd used.

But the most disturbing aspect of the scene was not how varied was the use but mom's actual condition. Her legs were tied bent with her heels firmly against her ass. Furthermore, the ropes were arranged to keep her legs bent at the hips and spread. She had no way of closing or defending her secret places. Her arms were likewise tied to her torso preventing any voluntary movement on her part. Later I saw that her arms were also crossed behind her back and tied there also. In every way she was totally helpless and at the mercy of this room full of rampant men.

Helpless she was indeed to affect anything that transpired. They turned her and posed her as they saw fit. Sometimes they lay on top of her. Others would prop her on her knees and viciously sodomize her already gaping hole. Her face would be in a guy's lap with his cock forced passed her tonsils. Still later she'd be picked up and sandwiched between two standing men. All of them pounded away at her undefended orifices emptying their nut sacs over and over again inside her body.

Throughout mom shouted encouragement. She begged for them to do the worst to her. She called herself those horrible names. Over and over she beseeched them to fill her with their cum.

Inside I was shattered. The totality of mom's depravity overwhelmed all that I thought that I knew about her. This was the raw and unedited version of the things that I'd seen on their website. She was out of her mind in a frenzy of wantonness. This is her reward! I'd never understood that it could be this way.

The debauchery continued. I had no sense of time passing in any normal way. Only the shifts from position to position marked any kind of transition. Imperceptibly at first studs started drifting away spent and exhausted. Even mom started showing signs of running down. Eventually on what I later was to learn was Mr. Dietz' signal the last of them erupted over mom painting her with a last sticky hot streamer of jizz. She lay panting and semi-conscious.

Mr. Dietz drew close behind me. I'd lost track of my place in the events as they unfolded. In a way I was as emotionally exhausted as mom was physically. My defenses were completely eroded. Suddenly I was on high alert. My body surged with adrenaline. What was to be my part now that the show was over so to speak. Oh! how wrong I was. The camera men shut down their lights. Everyone was exiting. But the real drama was about to commence.

"Kneel down here between your mother's legs please." he whispered close to my ear his breath soft and warm against my suddenly cooling flesh.

I moved to obey. I can't say that there was any conscious thought on my part. I'd entered a sort of fugue simply following whatever impulse acted on me from without. Mom lay sideways on the bed near the edge. Her tortured limbs still bound securely. She watched me as I slowly knelt where he had instructed only a foot now between my mom's kitty and I. I'd dreamed not so very many nights ago about being in this very position. The dream had been more sensual, but here I was. Mom said nothing.

"Gabriel, lick the semen out of your mother's vagina."

That should have been an insane utterance, but at that moment though it seemed the most natural of things for him to say. Her kitty was heavily glazed with cum dripping from her labia, thighs smeared thoroughly, and sperm flowing continuously from her abused and open sex. I marveled at the sight. But I did not move to comply.

I don't know what stopped me then nor can I tell you even now. I was exactly where I'd both dreamed of being and worked so hard to be. And still I could not bring myself to do it.

"Just lean a little further forward with your tongue out Gabriel and you can catch the cum draining from her rectum."

That was when I broke. I covered my face with my hands and wept bitterly. Neither of them said anything. For a long time the room was filled only with my tears. I was utterly crushed and defeated. Eventually I heard them moving. I kept my face covered still weeping in shame. I had no real thoughts any more. There were only the tears and the shame and the aborted lust. And the failure.

And then I felt him behind me gently lifting my hair. I couldn't bring myself to look. Instead I felt him thread a thin leather band around my neck. "Now you know why you cannot take her place. For you though I accept you as pledge." And just like that I belonged to him.