Unspoken Pleasure (erotica)
Owning My Friend's Mom: EP9

When Greg felt the worst of her coughing was over, he began to praise her for a job well done. "Anne, that had to be the best blowjob I have ever had. You suck cock like a real pro. From this point on, that is what I expect of you whenever you are giving a blowjob." Stroking her hair, he continued. "As well, you will also learn to love the taste of cum. If the load is not deposited in your mouth, but rather somewhere on your body, then you will scoop that cum up and place it into your mouth. Protein shakes will become your favorite little whore snack. Is that clear?" Greg asked.

Mrs. C. still knelt at his feet, face red with exertion and shame. She simply nodded her head, too shocked to respond.

"Now Mrs. C., we are half-way through your punishment and you're doing great. Hopefully, after all of this is over, you'll realize the importance of doing whatever I say, when I say it."

Greg found the look of shock on her face was utterly priceless. It was quite obvious that she had thought her ordeal to this point was over. Reaching down, he grabbed a nipple and pinching hard, pulled her to her feet. Still holding her nipple, Greg pulled her toward the kitchen table. When she was standing before it, he positioned her so that she was facing the back door and then pushed her down over the table.

"Now, Mrs. C., I want you to grab the edge of the table in front of you with both hands. You will hold on to this table and not let go, no matter what happens. Should you let go, then your punishment will be doubled. I'm hoping by now, that you realize I am quite serious about your punishments." With those words Greg could see the knuckles on her hands whitening, as she instinctively tightened her grip on the table's edge.

"Spread your feet apart. Wider. Now keep your feet like that." Greg stepped back to admire the view for a few seconds. With her bent over the table and her feet spread apart, her nicely shaven pussy was clearly on display, as was her puckered little asshole. It was also quite obvious, to anyone who cared to look, that she was immensely turned on. Her pussy lips positively glistened with moisture and small rivulets of it trickled down her thighs. Grabbing the camera from his pocket, Greg snapped a few more pictures for his growing album.

Walking over to the back door, Greg bent and picked up one of Stacey's discarded flip flops. As he stood back up, Greg checked the lock on the back door and confirmed that it was not locked. Walking back over to stand in front of Mrs. C., he informed her that, "I am going to spank you now with Stacey's flip flop. This will be our little secret. Every time she puts this shoe on, she'll be oblivious to the fact that it was used to spank your pretty little ass." Walking behind her, Greg continued. "You will keep your head up through it all, and keep watching the back door. Just so you know, it is not locked, and anyone could come walking through it, at any moment to replace you in this compromising position. Perhaps even Stacey will walk through that door, having forgotten something or other, and replace you willingly humiliating yourself for me." Greg could tell the words were having an effect on her, since she began to visibly shake on the table. "Remember - don't let go of that table, under any circumstances," he cautioned.

With those final words, Greg reared his hand back and brought it down hard upon Mrs. C.'s left ass cheek. The responding CRACK echoed throughout the kitchen, as Mrs. C. shrieked in shock. Taking aim at the other cheek, Greg, again, smacked it as hard as he could. Another satisfying CRACK followed by an equally satisfying shriek followed. Greg then began a steady barrage on her ass, ensuring that he reddened every part of both of her cheeks and upper thighs. Her howls and sobs of pain, mixed with the CRACKS of each blow, were an intoxicating aphrodisiac, and, soon, had Greg hard as a rock and ready for round 2.

When she was a blubbering mess and her ass was a nice shade of dark red, Greg stopped his ministrations, and, again, stepped back to take a few photos. To her credit, Mrs. C. maintained her position and never let go of the table. Greg was actually beginning to feel strange feelings of pride for her. He was amazed at how easily she had been manipulated, and how well she was taking all of this.

"Now, Anne," Greg informed her, "we are almost done with your spanking. I want to make sure that this moment is forever etched in your mind, so that the mistakes made will never be repeated again."

At this, she began to panic and plead with him in an irrational voice. "Please, Greg, no more. I'll be a good little whore. I'll do anything you want, but please no more spanking. I beg of you." A note of hysteria was creeping into her voice, and, while her vehemence was moving, Greg knew there was one final thing he needed to do, to cement this moment in her brain forever.

"I'm sorry, Anne, but lessons need to be learned here. I promise it will be quick, though," Greg says patting her affectionately on her back. Picking up the wooden spoon used earlier on her breasts, he then informed her, "I am going to apply one hit each with this wooden spoon to your pussy and asshole."

No sooner had the words escaped his mouth when Mrs., C. began to plead, "Oh please no, not that! Anything but that. It'll hurt too much."

Ignoring her, Greg continued, "If you maintain your position, then it will only be one each. However, if you move or let go of that table, I will be forced to tie you down to the table, and I will then administer 10 strokes to each," Greg finished menacingly.

With that Greg took up position, again, and, taking aim at her puckered asshole, brought the spoon down hard, right on her anal bud. An awful wail bubbled out of Mrs. C. as her back arched, shooting her crotch into the table, as if it could escape from the pain. Again, she never let go, and, after several moments, resumed her position on the table, quietly sobbing to herself.

"You're doing very well Mrs. C. Just one more and we're done with your spanking." This time Greg took aim at her soaking wet pussy, and, with an underhanded stroke, brought the head of the spoon up to hit her squarely on her shaven lips. If it was possible, her scream of pain was even worse than the one for her ass, moments before.

Walking around to stand in front of her, Greg held the spoon out to her and instructed her to kiss it, and to thank him for her punishment. Between sobs, she managed to mutter, "Thank..... you...... for... my... punishment."

"I think it appropriate, at this point, to formalize our relationship," Greg explained to Mrs. C. "From now on, you will refer to me as Sir, at all times. The only exception will be if your daughter is in the room. Then you may refer to me by my first name. Is this clear so far, Anne?" Greg asked.

"Yes...... Sir," she hesitatingly responded.