Pleased with herself she watched the door in anticipation of what was about to come. Across the hall in her son’s room Brian laid on his back in...his bed, sheets pushed back, cock sticking straight up and aching, aching for his mother’s pussy or another wonderful blow job. However, his mother’s words came back to haunt him…“Go Brian, go back to your room…we can never do this again. It is wrong…it is incest. Please go.” His mother had been so insistent that despite his longing for her and the. ..my restraints prevent me from turning to see…I look up at you fear in my eyes...you smile at me reach your hand down to touch my face…your fingers trace my lips..you take a step back...I hear the sounds of belt buckles being undone I know there is more than one person behind me…my breath quickens my body trembles...I feel a set of hands squeeze around each thigh and pull in opposite directions...I am fully exposed...slap...slap...SLAP… the cheeks of my ass are slapped over and over...my hips. My lady led me up the stairs with a worrying expression; this was not the smile I was used to, but something meaner and more serious. She took me to our bedroom and closed the door. It was symbolic as there was no-one else in the house, but it meant something to her. I guessed there would be no playtime. We weren't financially desperate, but we did need another income.The woven wrist restraints waited menacingly on the fresh bedsheets where I had left them minutes after reading my rejection. I didn't have much to do with him these day's, but fuck I still loved him deep down, and no one was gonna fuck with him—not even dad. Mom finally emerges from the bedroom, and starts getting ready for work. Dad announces he had to get back to the road, to which I just thinks to myself—ya, that's why your sons are turning into wild lil fucks—no man in their lives to teach and discipline. Dad is the first to leave, and I tell them both I would take care of Dustin. I walked dad out, and put my.