Sasha and Marcy didn't know what to make of their new friend's anxiety when they slid into Sasha's coupe and saw the clock.
"Shit!" Anne hissed through her teeth, eyes wide. "We're late... Hurry, drive! I have to be home before ten!"
The other girls exchanged a glance. "Relax, Cinderella," Marcy laughed. "We'll only be twenty minutes late, if that... It's not that big a deal."
"Your mom seems nice. What, is she gonna blow up if you're not right on time?"
Anne did not laugh. She only squeezed the handles of her shopping bag, white-faced and sweating, as they drove through the night to the ranch house she shared with her mother. She knew she was taking a big risk, hanging out with her new friends so close to curfew... But she'd never had a chance to spend time with such popular girls before. She'd thought it was worth the risk, since she wanted so badly to keep their friendship...
But now she knew, after tonight was over, they wouldn't want anything to do with her ever again.
Anne anxiously chewed her thumbnail for the entire drive, silent save for a single whimper when Sasha missed their exit and added an extra five minutes to their journey. She was white as a sheet, practically frozen, when they pulled up to her neighborhood. Sasha and Marcy kept glancing in the rearview mirror at her, then at each other, plucked eyebrows raised high. What's her problem?!
The sound she made as they reached her house, seeing her mother's outline in the front window, was so pathetic that Sasha snapped. "Would you cut it out?! Je-sus, you sound like she's gonna execute you. So you'll be grounded for a day or whatever; so what?"
Of course she didn't understand. She and Marcy had 'cool' parents. Parents who let them get away with murder. Not Anne. Anne's mother was much, much different.
As if to prove this, her mother strode outside to meet them pulling into her carport; bathrobe over her pajamas and curlers in her hair. Anne had to blush. Did she have to look so embarrassing in front of Anne's cool friends?!
Not that it mattered. In a minute, the way the woman dressed would be the last thing on anyone's mind. Both girls could barely contain their giggles as they rolled down the window to greet her. "Hi, Ms. Boonchuy. Sorry we're a little late... Traffic was bad."
"It wasn't," the older woman snapped, refuting the fib. "I listened to police scanners for your route. Traffic was completely clear."
Marcy's mouth fell open, exposing a tongue ring and a blue wad of bubble gum. "You were listening to—"
"I was worried sick! How could you be so irresponsible? Young lady, this is the last time you're taking my little girl out anywhere. I knew this was a mistake! Come inside, all three of you."
Dread took root in Anne's belly. She'd hoped the others would be sent away. This was much worse. On trembling legs, she climbed out of the coupe and felt her mother's hand grab hold of her arm, steering her to the door.
Compared to the glitz and glam of Sasha's house, with all it's tech and gadgets, the Boonchuy house was small and shabby, falling apart in so many areas. Anne hung her head, letting her hair cover her eyes. She didn't want to see the judgment certain to be in her friends' eyes as they were made to sit together in a ratty armchair, springs poking out of the worn cotton.
Anne was not allowed to sit. Instead, as her mother threw herself on the sofa, she was flung facedown over her mother's strong lap.
"No way," Marcy had time to gasp, immediately before the first spank landed on the seat of Anne's pants.
Anne sobbed. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of; what she'd been expecting. Her mother spanked her through the pink jeans she'd been so glad to wear out, while her friends made noises of shock; amusement. "Is this really—"
"This is a joke, right?"
"Anne…"
It took a while for the spanks to actually hurt. The jeans dulled the impact, and Anne was used to far worse. But the shame burning in her heart was unlike any she'd experienced. She didn't thrash or scream; there would be no point. But internally she was saying goodbye to any opportunity to ever hang out with these girls again. Hell, once they started telling people at school, she'd likely be unable to show her face ever again!
Her mother reached around to unclasp her belt, pulling it through the loops. She unbuttoned Anne's pants; unzipped them. She forced Anne to stand while she stripped her of pants and underwear, then got started with the buttons on her shirt.
"Oh, my God," Marcy gasped, covering her mouth. Her eyes glittered, fascinated and eager to see more. Neither girl made any attempt to leave. They were enjoying the show too much, Anne thought bitterly.
Ms. Boonchuy stood and turned her daughter around, exposing Anne's pale round butt to the room. Anne whined, hiding her face, as her mother walked her back to the sofa and made her kneel backwards on the cushions, legs wide apart. She knew by their sudden silence that her friends could now see everything: her pussy, her anus...
Her humiliation was complete when her mother tugged her shirt off, unclasping her bra. All stitches of clothing were removed in seconds, until she was as naked as the day she was born.
Burying her face in the back of the couch, she tried to catch her breath; tried not to cry. She heard the whistle of her own belt through the air before feeling the sudden impact with her cheeks, the sound ringing out, the jarring sting that followed just a second later. Anne gasped, then wailed her pain into the sofa.
Her mother sharply cracked the belt across her backside twelve times before pausing. "Hold your cheeks open, please," she said quietly.
Anne knew better than to disobey. Though it made Anne's friends gasp and giggle anew, she gripped her bottom cheeks and pried them open, holding them, exposing what little privacy she had left.
And her mother's belt found her there, too, lashing against her anus, slapping hard and loud through the shabby living room.
Anne wailed into the now-damp couch, shivering all over, though she didn't dare let go of her cheeks; didn't dare try and protect her hole from her mother's wrath. A lifetime of experience had taught her that disobedience led to worse things than pain and humiliation. She only screamed and let it continue, as there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Twelve brutal spanks rained upon her anus, one following the other, and all the while her new friends watched and laughed, practically rolling in their seats at the sight.
"What a freak," she heard Marcy say, and that brought new tears to her eyes. What would Marcy tell everyone at school; that Anne was a pathetic little baby who still got her cute little butthole spanked by her mother just for being home a few minutes late? She could hardly stand it!
She was openly sobbing by the time her mother set the belt down; crying too loud to hear what would happen next until the girls' conjoined, shocked gasps once more drew her attention. Only then did she hear the soft, familiar clink of metal on metal: her mother's black leather harness.
As though she'd been stung by a bee, Anne bolted upright and spun around in time to see her mother, still wearing her bathrobe, slide and buckle a harness over her thick thighs. A proud purple dildo, eight inches long, bobbled happily at her mother's crotch.
Anne's eyes went huge with horror, and she began to babble. "Oh, no, no, Mommy, please no, not in front of them, Mommy please; anything but that, I'll do anything..."
Her mother fixed a sad, disappointed look on her face and shook her head no. "I didn't tell you to leave your position," she said. "That's ten pussy-spanks, Anne; you know better."
"You spank her pussy?!" Sasha shrieked, too stunned to stay quiet, and Anne's mother turned to address the girls, nodding seriously.
"Of course I do! If your parents had any sense, they'd paddle your little clits every night! Then you wouldn't be such bad girls as to lead my Anne-cat astray..."
Sasha, at a loss, had nothing to say to that. She and Marcy only watched with huge eyes as Anne was made to sit on her red backside, legs open wide, as her mother gripped her thigh for stability and slapped her pussy as hard as she could.
Anne hollered, head falling back, yet more tears pooling out of her eyes, as her mother rained ten sharp spanks on her cunt: slap, slap, slap! All the while, the dildo remained menacingly erect and ready, eager to penetrate her bottom.
From the side-table drawer, Ms. Boonchuy pulled a small jar filled with a pinkish goo. She gave it a shake and explained, "Vaseline, jalapeno juice, shaved ginger root, and a little Tabasco sauce. I call it 'punishment lube'."
As if Marcy and Sasha's eyes couldn't get any wider! They gaped at the stuff. "Lube?!"
"That's right. Back in position, bad girl; don't make me tell you twice."
Still bawling, Anne once more knelt on the sofa cushions, her bottom to the room. Her mother gave her thigh a swat, and she stuck her red butt out, listening to the snap of her mother's latex gloves before a finger, carrying a thick gob of the punishment lube, found her anus and wriggled its way inside.
The burning wasn't immediate, but it was coming, she knew; she already felt the heat rising off the tainted Vaseline.
A second finger joined the first as her mother quickly lubricated Anne's already spanked, swollen, and tender anus. "Why are you getting a punishment fuck, Anne?" Mom asked calmly, twisting and scissoring her fingers inside her daughter's hole.
"Because... Because I was home late…"
"That's right. And what happens to bad girls who don't follow their mother's rules?"
Anne sniffled. "They get fucked up the ass..."
"That's right, dear. It's for your own good. Be glad it's your mother teaching you this lesson, and not some man you don't even know. They'll take any opportunity to stuff their cocks into any hole, and that's how bad girls get pregnant." She turned to waggle a finger at Sasha and Marcy. Cast a scathing glance on Marcy's pink short-shorts; Sasha's layers upon layers of eyeliner and sticky lip-gloss. "Don't you forget it."
Not a moment later, and her mother's soft body was pressed against her back, while the hard cock jabbed her ass. Her mother guided it inside her, thrusting.
Anne hissed between clenched teeth, doing her best to steady her breathing; to relax her muscles. This would hurt less, later, if her body was compliant. Slowly she was penetrated, and then her mother pressed a hand to the small of her back and began to fuck her in earnest, hips slapping, the wet squelch of lube loud in the room.
She heard what could only be a camera shutter and sobbed aloud, just knowing Sasha had snapped a picture of them. She couldn't hear what the girls were whispering over the sound of her mother's grunts, but she knew it was nothing good.
That was when the heat really set in, her irritated colon catching fire from the familiar mixture of toxins, causing her to burn and itch and squirm. She whimpered, crying out. "Mom… Mommy, it hurts…"
"It's supposed to hurt, bad girl," her mother said soothingly. "It's alright. Once your punishment is over, you'll remember how to be my good girl again."
"I remember now, I remember! You don't have to keep—"
Begging was useless, but she couldn't stop herself from trying. She never could. Once the pain of the punishment lube took over, there was nothing she wouldn't say, wouldn't do to make it stop. It wasn't that she forgot that her friends were watching; she simply didn't care anymore as she squirmed and thrashed, raising and lowering her hips in a humiliating dance just to make the burn stop.
It never stopped. It was deep inside her, driving her insane, and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Mommy, no, ow, Mommy please, ow, owie, owie!" She sobbed, beating her head into the couch while her mother fucked away. Minutes passed; ten, maybe fifteen of pure anal torture. It was hard to tell; each second felt like an hour.
Finally her mother pulled out, but it brought no relief. The burn continued on and on and on, even as Anne fell to the side and gripped her bottom, pulling her cheeks open wide to get cool air circulating on her hole. Her face was a mess of snot and tears.
Behind her, the camera shutter clicked again.
Her mother stood at the arm of the couch, watching her for a moment. Then she tugged Anne's arm. "Sit up. There's one more part of your punishment, and you know exactly what it is.
Sobbing and stark naked, Anne sat up, facing her new friends, who stared at her breasts with phones in hand and bright, fascinated eyes, twin grins on their faces.
"Legs apart, Anne. Your 'friends' want to see your pretty pink princess parts."
Her spirit utterly broken, Anne obeyed. She held her legs open, then took hold of her labia and opened that, too, exposing her clit and vagina to the girls.
Marcy and Sasha watched, silent, as Anne began to masturbate for them and her mother, rubbing her clit with one hand, squeezing her breasts with the other. This wouldn't end until she'd orgasmed, her most private moment on display for her friends' viewing pleasure, their amusement. Their entertainment.
She fingered herself, two fingers thrusting into her pussy, her thumb rubbing her clit in quick, efficient circles. Sasha held her phone up at an angle that could only mean her camera was filming. Aside from the continued fire in her bottom, Anne felt nothing but numb. What did anything matter anymore?
"Go on," Ms. Boonchuy encouraged, eyes fixed on her daughter's fingers working in and out of her pussy, starting to shine with arousal in the lamplight. "Go ahead and show your friends how you cum. It's all that useless sluts are good for, isn't it?"
Anne gave a low moan, her body reacting to the pleasure; her hips starting to move into her hand. Her head fell back, and she tugged on her nipples, feeling her body contract and pulse with heat. "Oh, fuck," she gasped, and came, shuddering hard from head to toe, soaking her hand. "Fuck, fuck, Mommy, I'm cumming..."
"Does that feel good?" her mother asked with a sly smile, and Anne could only nod. Marcy and Sasha could not possibly think any less of her. They'd seen her spanked and sodomized, yes, but now she'd orgasmed right after that very rape, and they'd watched the whole thing. They knew she was a whore, on top of being a pathetic baby who took it up the ass from her own mother. What was the harm in letting them know she liked it, too?
"Well?" Ms. Boonchuy asked, straightening to look at the two shellshocked girls. "What are you two still doing in my house? Get out, and don't come back."