Family Ties

Miriam stood and pushed her chair away from the table. She looked down at Simon, kneeling in a frilly apron, and at Chloe standing over him like the master she was destined to become. They were at a crucial juncture; push too hard, and he might rebel; back off too much, and they might lose their momentum. She had to take charge.

"That's enough now, Chloe. You've made your point." She crouched down to Simon, slipped her finger through the ring in his collar, and pulled him toward her. She kissed him hard on the lips, then pushed him away but held on to the collar. "Is that what you want, Simon? Is this the kind of loving you need?"

"No, Mum, no, I mean, no, no, no," he shook his head, his voice a panicked stammer.

"If I could get that cage off now, would you be hard?"

"Mum, please no," he pleaded. "I don't know what's got into me, honestly, I'm not like that."

"How can I trust you with Chloe, Simon? Tell me that. I can't watch you 24/7, can I?"

"Please, Mum, it won't happen again."

"I guess it's really my fault," she said, her voice softening with false regret. "I just wanted us to be one happy family again. I didn't take into account how living with that monster might have corrupted you."

"Please, Mum, what can I do?"

She stood slowly, letting go of the collar, and smiled as he leaned against her leg, his face buried in the loose silk of her kimono. "I don't know, Simon. Maybe it's too late for us as a family." She felt his cuffed hands grip her leg lightly. She would have loved to grab him by the hair and drag him down to the basement, but now wasn't the time.

"Clean up in here. Do the dishes and tidy up. I'm taking Chloe into the lounge to discuss matters. When you've finished, come find us, but knock on the door and wait until I tell you to enter." She pulled her leg away and walked past him, picking up the bottle of wine and her glass. Chloe followed, grabbing her glass on the way.

Simon was left kneeling on the kitchen floor, his soul broken and his cock trying to harden in its cruel metal prison.

While Simon labored in the kitchen, trying to earn his mother's grace, his work hindered by his cuffed hands, Chloe was laboring at another task in the lounge. She knelt between her mother's legs, her arms tied behind her back with the silk belt of her own robe. Her tongue worked relentlessly, her ears enjoying her mother's moans of pleasure. She alternated between long, deep strokes and hard, French pussy kisses, driving her mother closer to the edge.

Miriam's hands tugged at her daughter's hair as her own head fell back and her eyes rolled. Chloe brought her to a second, shuddering orgasm. Miriam pulled on Chloe's hair, guiding her up. They kissed, Miriam, enjoying her own juices on Chloe's lips. She untied her daughter's arms, and they made themselves ready for Simon's knock on the door. They sat chatting, composed and ready for the next scene in their play.

Simon dried the last of the plates and awkwardly put them back in the cupboard. He straightened the chairs and table and drank the dregs of his wine. His cuffed arms cupped his caged cock, trying to ease the strain as the flesh pushed against the metal. He needed to remind his mum about the guy who was going to take the cuffs off, and maybe the collar and cage; she hadn't mentioned them for a while. First, though, he had to get this pending conversation out of the way; he had to keep them around until he was released, and then he would make up his mind. He shook his head; it felt light, and he felt a little tired. Best get this over with. He gently knocked on the lounge door; it didn't even occur to him that they were making him ask permission to enter a room in his own house.

"Come," his mum said.

He pushed the door open. His mum was sitting in his father's favorite high-backed winged leather chair, leaning back comfortably, her legs crossed, a glass of wine in her hand. Chloe was stretched out on the leather Chesterfield sofa. He tried to ignore how the silk she wore clung to every part of her body, but he gulped as he noticed her hard nipples pressing through the thin fabric.

He stood with his head bowed, feeling like a schoolboy before the headmistress. "Is the kitchen clean, Simon?" she asked. He nodded.

"Simon, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer. Now, is the kitchen finished?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Chloe, help him off with that silly apron, will you?"

Simon looked at his mum in a panic; he was naked underneath, which is why she had told him to put it on in the first place.

Miriam noticed the look on his face. "We've all seen everything you have, Simon. There is no need for your false bashfulness now."

Chloe stood and stepped behind him. She touched his shoulder, stroked his neck, and ran her hand down his back to the apron ties. Miriam watched him struggle against his sister's touch. Her look dared him to react, to show the arousal she knew was brewing, but he held fast, his body rigid. Chloe stepped in front of him and lifted the apron over his neck, licking her lips as she looked him in the eye. She threw the apron aside, then put her hands on his shoulders and pushed down. He slowly went to his knees, his resistance crumbling.

Miriam looked at her kneeling son. "Now, Simon, I want you to repeat what you told us in the kitchen, word for word, please. Address Chloe first."

Simon licked his dry lips and took a deep breath. "Please, Chloe, please, I didn't mean it. Please forgive me." He looked to his mother. "Please, Mum, please stay. I'll do anything. I promise. Please don't go. I need you."

"Do you mean that? Will you do anything? Does that mean you will do anything for both of us?" Miriam pressed, her voice sharp.

"Yes, Mum, and Chloe, anything. Just please don't leave me like this," he held up his cuffed hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"About that," she said, her tone deliberately casual, "my friend says he can't get here for another day, I'm afraid."

He slumped on his knees, his hope deflating.

"Okay, Simon, we will stay," Miriam conceded. "But for Chloe's safety, you will be locked in your room except for bathroom breaks. At bedtime, you will be restrained to the bed. I will also give you a sleep mask. Please wear it over your eyes whenever Chloe comes into your room to assist or feed you. Is that understood?"

"Really, Mum? Is all that necessary? I promise it won't happen again."

"Yes, I'm afraid it is, Simon. Chloe's safety is my number one priority. If you don't agree, then we will be gone tomorrow."

He was defeated. He didn't have a choice. "Yes, Mum."

"Perfect. Now, kneel in front of Chloe and tell her how grateful you are."

He twisted around on his knees and shuffled to where Chloe was lying on the sofa. "Thank you, Chloe, for being so understanding."

She stroked his face, then a look of sudden anger rose in her eyes just before she slapped him hard across the face. The crack echoed in the quiet room.

"Chloe, stop that right now!" Miriam shouted out.

"I'm sorry, Mum," Chloe said, her voice a perfect imitation of regret. "I just had to get it off my chest. I'm sorry, Simon."

"Okay, Simon, off to bed. One of us will be up in a little while to put you to bed."

Simon stood and left the room, rubbing his stinging cheek.

Miriam and Chloe held their giggles until they heard Simon's door close. He had bent so easily.

"I'm not sure you should have slapped him," Miriam told Chloe, though her tone lacked any real criticism.

"I know, I just couldn't help myself."

"What did you put in his wine?"

"Just half a roofie," Chloe said with a wicked grin. "So his mind should be very pliable in a little while, then we can have some more fun."

Miriam smiled at her daughter, her voice dropping to a low, commanding purr. "Crawl to me, slut."

Chloe smiled, slid off the sofa like a cat, and slinked her way over to her mother's feet. She took one foot in her hand and kissed the toes one by one.

"Good slut," purred Miriam. "Very good."

Miriam opened Simon's door without knocking. He was lying on the bed, face up, his cuffed hands resting just above his groin. "Stand up. Let me look at your back."

Simon stood, then wobbled a bit; his head spun slightly from the drug. He turned so his mother could see the marks the cane had left. She ran her fingers over them, smiling. They were a thing of beauty; her daughter was an artist with the cane.

"Good, they look better already. On the bed, please, face up, arms above your head." There was no "please" or "thank you," just cold instructions. He did as he was told. She looked down at him; there was no compassion in her eyes. "You did this to yourself. Poor Chloe may have to get therapy because of you."

A look of genuine regret appeared on Simon's face, but she ignored it. She took the tie she had used earlier, looped it through the cuffs, then tied it tightly to the bars in the headboard. She then picked up the rope they had used earlier, tied his legs together, and tied them to the end of the bed.

She sat next to him on the bed. "You must understand, Simon," she said in a soft, silky voice, her fingers gently stroking his chest. "Chloe is a very vulnerable girl, very sexual, and you are such a handsome, strong young man." She really laid it on thick; she thought neither of those things. He was a very weak version of his father. She put her head on his chest and gently kissed a nipple. "You remind me so much of your father when he was your age," she said, flicking her tongue over it, watching it harden. "So strong and virile." Her hand reached down to his balls and gently squeezed. He groaned at the pain in his cock as it swelled against its prison.

She kissed her way to his face, still holding his hard balls. She kissed him on the lips, then he yelled out as she gripped hard and twisted his balls. "So if you ever do anything like that again, I will cut these things off. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, yes," he cried, tears of pain welling in his eyes.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mum, I understand."

"I think in the future, I would prefer it if you called me Ma'am. I'm not feeling very much like your mother these days." She gave another little squeeze for emphasis.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She slid a heavy leather blindfold over his head. "That stays on until I take it off. I don't want you ogling your sister, understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he whimpered. He heard her walk away and the door closing, leaving him in darkness and silence.

As Simon lay in the dark, he pulled at his bindings, but they had no give. The drug was pushing his mind all over the place. Thoughts of Chloe, his mother, and even the bitches who captured him swirled in a confusing, arousing vortex. His cock was in constant pain, a throbbing, trapped ache. He jerked as the door opened.

"Simon, Simon, it's me, Chloe." It was a whisper, and he couldn't be sure whether it was in his drug-addled mind or real. He shook his head, trying to make out where she was.

"Chloe," he called out, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"Shhh," a finger pressed against his lips. "She'll hear, and you'll get in trouble again. We don't want that, do we?"

"No."

"No, Miss. You should call me Miss. Mum will like that; she'll think you're showing me respect because you're sorry. You are sorry, aren't you, Simon?"

"Yes, Miss."

“Good boy." Chloe looked around and gave Miriam and a naked, collared David, who were watching from the doorway, a thumbs-up. Chloe turned and climbed onto Simon, her crotch resting against the cage. "God, you look sexy, all tied up and ready to use. It's a shame that" dick of yours is locked away; I could really use it now."

He groaned as she pushed herself against the cage, the pressure sending a fresh wave of pain and desire through him. She bent forward and kissed him on the lips, a soft, teasing promise.