The Blue Life Ch. 11: Mrs. Whitehall

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This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+. The story involves themes of Incest, BDSM, Dominance/submission and bisexuality. If any of that offends you, just move on to the next story. Comments, Favorites, and Ratings are appreciated. Thanks. I also want to thank John for his help in editing and proofreading this chapter.


My father cleaned my mother, gently sucking my spunk out of her cunt. Careful to avoid her clit, because she had just come multiple times, riding my thick cock in the shower. I got down on my back, and slid under my kneeling father like an auto mechanic working the underside of a car. I licked my father’s dick clean. I didn’t think of myself as Gay, or even bisexual. But, I was getting used to the taste and shape of my Dad’s dick in my mouth. I was liking it more and more. He had just shot his load against my mother’s cheek, neck and shoulder. I finished my work before Dad did. So, I stood to the side, sheepishly, waiting to see if Mom or Dad was going to clean my cock with their mouths.

My Mom saw me waiting. She said, “Wash up your dick in the sink, subbie. Then get your clothes on.”

“But, aren’t you or Red going to clean my cock?” “Red” is my Dad’s sexual submissive nickname.

“No. Forget what I said. Don’t wash your cock in the sink. Let it get crusty. No clothes for you either, subbie.”


“Is your Mistress getting her pussy cleaned?”

“Yes, Mistress Blue.” Until just a few hours ago, I had been my mother’s Dominant, and she was calling me, “Master.” Now, our roles have been reversed.

“Did you cum without permission?” Mom pressed her point, making me feel ashamed of cumming.

I hung my head. “Yes, Mistress Blue. That was an accident.”

“I own your cock. I own your orgasm. You are sassing your Mistress. Go get the dog collar and then the Piggie-Tail from the dishwasher. Don’t sass. Go!”

I ran. I got Dad’s dog collar, from where we left it in the living room, and the butt plug with a decorative pig-tail. It had been in my Dad’s ass earlier in the day. But Dad had washed it with antibacterial soap and run it through the dishwasher. It was sterile. I ran back upstairs and knelt just outside the bathroom door. My father was just helping my mother stand.

“Red, do you want to watch your Master get humiliated?”

My father had a sad look on his face, like my humiliation was physically hurting him more than it was embarrassing me. “No, Mistress. I’d rather not.”

“Then go get dressed. Your tan chinos. Deck shoes without socks. A polo shirt. And no underwear.”

“Yes, Mistress.” And Dad was off, running faster than I did.

Mom dug in two bathroom drawers before finding the lube. She was naked, and gorgeous as always. But she meant business. There wasn’t anything sexy about this. We keep lube all over the house now. She tossed the small bottle to me. “Ready the tail! And ready your asshole, Worm!” She normally called my father, Worm. But normally, I’m the Dominant and both my father and mother are my sexual submissives. Mom had turned the tables on me. Or, rather, I had done it to myself, offering her my submission. Mom had taken it very seriously. We switched power roles. And it didn’t look like she was interested in giving up power.

I lubed the butt-plug. And then I lubed my ass. Mom put the dog collar around my neck. It just barely fit. It was buckled in the last hole and was a little tight. My mother took it off again. “That won’t do,” she said, “You’ve got a much thicker neck than Puppy.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Hand me the tail!” I did. “Now, lick my toes, Pig!”

“WHAT!” I was a little shocked.

“Don’t make me repeat commands. You will get the paddle for that later, Worm! Lick my toes, Piggie-Boy. Not like that. Don’t tickle my feet. Worship them!” I was down on my knees, my forearms flat against the floor. I began licking Mom’s toes. I pretended the cleft between her big toe and her next toe was the cleft of her pussy. I tried to tease it just like I would her sex. “Mmm, that’s nice. You and Red are going to spend some time loving my feet.” She leaned forward and placed the tip of the butt-plug against my anus.

I flinched.

“Relax, Piggie. This isn’t going to hurt you. Tell me why you have to wear the Pig Tail.”

“I was selfish and came without permission. My Mistress owns my orgasm. And I talked back and sassed you, Mistress Blue.”

Mom eased the Pig-Tail into my ass. I blushed crimson with the shame of it. “And will you sass your Mommy again?”

“I hope not, Mommy. I will try not to,” I sincerely said. I’m twenty-one, nearly twenty-two years old. I’m six foot two and out-weigh my Mom by at least eighty pounds. And here I was, groveling at her feet, licking her toes, being humiliated by her. There was something exciting about all of this. But there was something grating and irritating too. Maybe Mom was just getting back at me for her months of sexual submission to me.

“This isn’t over, Pig Boy.”

“No, Mistress.” bahis firmaları

“Grab the collar, get the leash, and grab a light blanket,” Mom commanded. “I need to get dressed.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I had no idea what my mother had planned, it was both frightening and exhilarating. I got a blanket from the linen closet and picked up the dog collar. I went downstairs to get the leash. I saw my Dad was already dressed. He looked good, in an Eighties Preppy sort of way.

“No clothes?” Dad said it like a question.

I tried to make a joke of it. “Well, Mistress Blue let me have the Pig Tail!” I turned and showed my Dad, then I was immediately embarrassed that I did. I was still Red’s Dominant. And I really couldn’t act that way while naked and wearing a butt plug with a Pig Tail!

“You look cute, Master.” My Dad was trying to cheer me up. “I like your legs. They’re rugged and hairy. Very masculine.”

I looked at Dad. “Red, I’ve been meaning to ask you. You have less body hair than Mom. You don’t shave your legs or pits. But you’ve got no hair there.”

Dad blushed. “That was Nick’s doing.” Nick is my Dad’s older brother. They had been in a sexually abusive relationship for decades. And it’s left scars on my Dad. “I never had much body hair. Not like you. But Nick didn’t like any of it. He said it made him…” Dad shook his head. “Nick doesn’t matter anymore. Nick took me and Jillian to a dermatologist, a laser hair removal place. He took off most of my hair. And it cost a small fortune at the time.”

“What did Mom say?”

“I told her I had a skin condition, an allergic reaction to something. That I had alopecia or something. I lied to your Mother a lot, for years.” Dad hung his head.

“It’s OK, Dad.” I wanted to hug him, comfort him. But I felt like I couldn’t, because I was naked and had a Pig Tail. Sometimes Dominance and submission games get in the way of life.

“Your Mom should have divorced me a long time ago.”

“Red. Look at me.” Dad was looking down. He was either hanging his head or checking out my cock. I lowered the folded blanket in my arms. “Look me in the eyes, Red. Listen close. You are forgiven. Mom loves you and she doesn’t hold grudges. I love you too.”

“I will give her a lifetime of submission to make up for all I’ve done,” my Dad whispered to himself.

I picked up the leash and said, “You do that, Dad. Where is Mom anyway?”

“Nick left a message on my cell phone. Your mother recorded it. Then she called the Phone Company and blocked Nick’s phone numbers from my cell phone. She was getting dressed and talking to someone on the phone when I came out here.”

I looked for the TV remote. Maybe there was a game on. Then Mom came into the room. She was wearing a mod-print, multi-colored mini skirt and sheer white blouse. There were two breast pockets, covering her nipples, but you could see her belly button through the blouse. And you could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. She had on her white, Nancy Sinatra, patent leather boots that hug her calves. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like a sexy model from a catalog from 1972. She was carrying a white patent leather purse that matched her shoes.

“Wonderful,” she said, “We’re going out shopping.”

“Fine,” I said, “I guess I’ll stay here and wait for you. Can I put on clothes or a robe, Mistress?”

“Oh, no. Piggie-Boy, you’re coming with us.”

I shrugged. “I’ll just throw on jeans and a t-shirt then. I’ll be two minutes.” I dropped the stuff in my arms and started for the stairs. “”

“Piggie, stop!” My mother shouted. “You’re not getting dressed. Run and get your swim trunks. Not the board shorts, the smaller ones. Top right drawer of your dresser, near your socks.”

I ran upstairs and came down fast. “I’ll need you to take out the tail if I’m going to put these on,” I said.

Mom held out her hand. “Give me the trunks.” I handed them to her. She rolled them up and stuffed them into her purse. “I’ll just keep these in case we get in an accident or something Andrew, get your keys. We’re taking the Cadillac. Piggie, you will ride in the back.”

I clenched my jaw and tried not to make a sound. I knew it would be worse later for me if I complained now. We went out to the garage and got into Dad’s giant boat of a Cadillac. I climbed into the back seat and knelt on all fours. Dad got behind the wheel and Mom sat up front on the passenger side. My Dad said, “Buckle up, Bobby.”

“Uhm, I can’t, Dad. I’ve got a pig-tail butt-plug in my ass. I can’t sit down.”

My mother touched my father’s arm. “Just drive, Andrew.”

My Dad looked at me, and then my Mother. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to Redcard this one, Mistress Blue. Nobody rides in the Cadillac without a seatbelt. That’s Rule Number One.”

“Oh, poopy,” my mother sighed, “scoot forward, Bobby.”

“I can run inside and get another butt-plug, Mistress,” I offered.

“No. Stay!” Mom unbuckled herself and leaned over the seat. She grabbed the kaçak iddaa butt plug with one hand and my balls with the other. She said, “You have some beautiful balls, Pony-Boy.” And she gave them a firm squeeze.

I smiled. I was back to being “Pony-Boy.” I sat down in the middle seat and buckled myself with the lap belt. “Mistress, may I cover myself with the blanket?”

“You may, Bobby. Thank you for asking.” Mom stashed the pig-tail butt-plug in the glove compartment.

The garage door went up. And Dad backed the Cadillac out of the driveway. He asked, “Where are we going?”

“To the Liberty Strip Mall,” Mom said, “There’s that big Discount Pet Store there. I’m hoping they’ll have what we need,” Mom said.

We drove to the Mall mostly in silence. At one point, Mom offered to give Dad a blowjob. Dad said he didn’t want to be a distracted driver. Dad takes his driving seriously. Mom said that the offer was open for when they got to the store. I felt awkward, riding in the backseat. Every car that passed or that we passed, I wondered if they could tell I was naked. It was humiliating and exciting.

When we got to the Mall, Dad asked if he should park near the back, so people wouldn’t notice me. Mom said she wanted people to notice her hunkie subbie and that he should park as close to the front as possible. Dad has a thing about parking his vintage Cadillac near other cars in a parking lot. It’s a superstition or phobia or something. He’s scared of the paint getting scratched. Anyway, he didn’t park at the back of the lot away from all the cars. He parked close to the other cars, but leaving space all around the Cadi. He even pulled on over the line to take up two car spaces with the Cadi. He does that a lot. But since he generally parks near the back of the lot, he doesn’t get ugly stares often.

Mom and Dad got out of the car. Mom looked at me. “Honey, we’re going to be in the store for a half hour, maybe forty-five minutes. It depends on whether we find a spot for me to suck off your father.” My Dad blushed crimson, but smiled proudly. “Hand me the smaller collar. I’m going to try to find a bigger one that will fit you without being too tight on you, Pony-Boy.”

“Thank you, Mistress. What should I do while you’re away?”

“Well, if the car get’s stuffy, crack a window.” Dad’s Cadillac is vintage, 1968. It doesn’t have power locks or power windows. But the old hand cranks. “It’s not hot today,” she said, “you’re not going to bake. Is your cock hard, Bobby?”

“No, Mom. I’ve been pretty embarrassed riding naked in Dad’s car.”

“Well, get over that. You can jerk off. And if you’re nice and hard when we get back, I will suck you off. If you get carried away, you have my permission to come on your belly, but don’t wipe it up. I will lick that up when we get back.”

My Dad looked me in the eye. “Do not get spunk on the upholstery! I should have made you sit on a towel. Wait!” Dad went into the trunk. He found a striped beach towel back there. It was clean and folded neatly. He opened the back door. “Spread this across the back seat before you start to masturbate.”

“I’m not going to masturbate in a parking lot, Dad,” I told him.

My mother thought for a second. “Pony-Boy, you are due to have your ass paddled later for cumming without permission and sassing your Mistress. If your cock is nice and hard when we get back, or if your belly is covered with spooge, I will commute your sentence to just two swats with the paddle, instead of ten with the crop. Think about it, subbie.”

Ten with the crop! Shit that would sting. What the hell! But, I couldn’t complain about it. Mistress would just tack on more swats if I did. Besides, Mom and Dad were already walking toward the store. I locked all the doors, and cracked two back windows about a half inch, to get some cross-ventilation. I sat there, feeling bored and humiliated for about five minutes. The car radio wouldn’t work, because Dad had the keys. I doubt I would have played the radio, because that would have drawn attention to the car. But, not many people were coming and going near the car anyway. I thought about lying down on the seat and covering myself totally with the blanket, but that didn’t seem necessary. I had the blanket across my lap. Nobody could see anything except my chest. I spread the towel across the backseat, and then got back under the blanket. I reached under the blanket to see if I could get myself hard. It had been a long day. I had already cum once in my Mom’s ass very early this morning. And once in my Dad’s mouth later in the morning. Both of those had been wonderful and absolute firsts for me: my first time having anal sex (at least fucking someone in the ass), and my first time cumming in my Dad’s (or any guy’s) mouth. Then, later, I had fucked my Mom in the shower. All three orgasms were amazing, highly erotic. I could picture them all clearly in my head. But my cock was not reacting.

I tried closing my eyes and imagining all the sexy attributes about my Mom: the way her kaçak bahis hard nipples roll on my tongue, the curve of her ass, the flavor of her pussy. I imagined my Dad and his alternate personality, Jillian. I had my eyes closed. I was working my cock furiously, but it was not cooperating. And I felt crazy and stupid, trying to jack-off in my Dad’s car in the middle of the Liberty Mall Parking Lot.

There was a knock on the window. “Hello,” a familiar voice called. I jumped in my seat. I didn’t have a watch. But I thought it couldn’t be more than eight or ten minutes since Mom and Dad were gone. I looked left, nobody. I looked right and saw the waist of a woman. A navy blue skirt and a white blouse. “Hi, Bobby,” the voice said. Oh, Jesus! They knew me! What the Hell! I looked down. My cock was covered by the blanket. A face bent down to the window. It was Mrs. Whitehall, my mother’s best friend of about twelve years. She was divorced and lived with her daughter Terri, a few miles from our house. I can’t remember where Mom and Mrs. Whitehall met, maybe at the old church we used to attend. But they were close. I liked Terri. But she was four years younger than me, just a Senior in High School. So we never were in the same school or hung out together or anything. What kind of stupid luck was this? How was I going to explain being naked to Mrs. Whitehall. I started thinking of excuses.

“Hi, Bobby. Did I startle you? You look chilly.” Mrs. Whitehall said.

“Uhm. No. I’m just waiting for Mom and Dad. They had to stop off at a store for a quick errand.”

“I see. Would you like me to keep you company, while you wait for them?”

“Uh, no, that’s OK. You probably have shopping to do or something. Tell Terri I said, Hi. OK?”

Mrs. Whitehall tried the backdoor. It was locked. Thank goodness! “The door is locked, Bobby. I’d rather sit inside and talk to you.”

“Mrs. Whitehall, that’s not a good idea. I don’t have any clothes on. It’s sort of a prank my Dad pulled.”

“I think it was more your mother’s idea, Pony-Boy. And I think you should unlock the door, right now.”

Something clicked. It made sense. She called me “Pony-Boy,” my submissive nickname, one that Mom had only given me this morning! Mrs. Whitehall knew! She may know everything about me and Mom and Dad, maybe she even knew about Jillian. What was going on? Why would Mom tell anyone about me fucking her?

“Mrs. Whitehall, if I unlock this door, what do you think you will find?”

Mrs. Whitehall blushed. “I don’t want to say out here, Bobby.”

“You know everything. Don’t you.”

“I know a lot, Bobby. Your mother has confided in me for a long time.”

“What do you want to happen, when you get in the car, Mrs. Whitehall?”

“Well, I could help you out with that problem you have, under that blanket, Pony-Boy.” Mrs. Whitehall smiled. It was a pleasant and open smile, set in a soft, pretty, round face. She was a few years younger than my Mom, maybe in her late thirties. Mom looked younger though. But Mom is particularly beautiful. Mrs. Whitehall is shorter than Mom, maybe only 5’3″, and she is thicker around the waist and hips. She has dirty-blonde hair, in a cut that is too short for her, sort of a Dorothy Hamill bob. She’s pleasantly plump, some might say chubby. And she has a much larger chest with much bigger breasts than my mother. Mrs. Whitehall is pretty, but not classically beautiful, a little heavy set, but the weight is packed into curves more than rolls. She’s still quite attractive, just in a completely different way than my mother.

“Do you want to have sex with me, Mrs. Whitehall?” I was direct.

“Could we talk about this in the car? I could just sit in front seat if you want.”

“Mrs. Whitehall, this is serious. Do you fantasize about fucking me?”

Mrs Whitehall looked around. She leaned close and whispered through the crack in the window, “Yes.”

“Then I need you to think. Do you just want to fuck a willing submissive? Or be taken by a Masterful Dominant?”

“Are you offering me a choice, Bobby?”

“I am.”

Mrs. Whitehall paused, considering, but only for a second. She said, “Then I would rather be taken by a Master.”

“Good. Then we will begin this way. You will now call me, Sir. Not ‘Master,’ just, Sir. As a sign of respect.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you a Dirty Girl, Mrs. Whitehall?”

“Yes, Sir. You can call me ‘Sally,’ if you want.”

“Do you want to be a Nasty Slut, Mrs. Whitehall?”

“Yes, Sir. I want to be that and more. It’s been a long time since a man was interested in me.”

“Answer this next question carefully, because you won’t get a second chance to answer it. Do you want to be MY Nasty Slut, Mrs. Whitehall?”

“More than anything, Sir. I want to have a little taste of what Marjorie has. Just a taste.”

“I’m willing to offer you that taste, Mrs. Whitehall. But you need to understand, that will involve your complete submission, not just for today, but an indefinite commitment. You will be my Slut, my pretty Fuck Toy. And this will require training and dedication on your part. But, you will never achieve the same status as my mother. She is my First. And, until I get married, she will be my Primary.”

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