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Mum my slave

Date: 8/16/2015, Categories: BDSM, Author: scale3, Rating: 67, Source: xHamster

frantic muffled antics. Though he could not understand a single word his mother was franticly trying to convey he knew she was trying to talk him out of letting his brainy, snot nose little s****r join in on the fun time. Roger walked back over to where the wench was. “Mommy while I get a bit of rest what do you say to you hanging around till little s*s gets home.” Roger giggled as he grabbed the winch handle. Mrs. Joan Peterson stopped her protesting of the inclusion of her daughter onto her son's sadistic world and started screaming in agonizing pain as she was lifted up off the floor by her lassoed breasts. She tried with every ounce of strength that she possessed to free her hammer locked arms from behind her back. But it was to no avail. The only thing she achieve was increasing the ripping pain in her lassoed breasts and choke herself into submission. Higher and higher Roger lifted his mother by her ballooned breasts. He loved the way she flayed about and struggled to free her bound hands. When her flaying knees cleared the top edge of the bed's footboard his mommy did a mid air about face as the crossed line that were snaring her ballooned breasts unwound. She rocked back and for a bit then settled down. Her knees flayed wildly about as they sought some sort of perch to relive the agonizing strain on the breasts that held her suspended. Roger climbed into his s****r's bed. Laying down he begin to ... fist his limp cock as he watched his mommy struggle to free herself. Though his cock stirred a bit it did not become fully erect. But that was alright. After all he had pop four large loads of his male seed. One up his mommy's virgin poop-chute, two into her tummy, and one across her face. All in all it had been a very active day for his fuck rod. It deserved a little rest before little s*s showed up. So with that in mind Roger drifted off to sl**p with his mother's wild midair bucking. The thirty-eight-year-old mother could hear her s*******n-year-old son snoring in deep restful slumber behind her. She wished that she could join him. God knows how she wished she could just lay down to ease her suffering. But that was not to be. Mrs. Joan Peterson remained hanging in agony by her ballooned breasts. She was sure that any moment now her breasts would be ripped of her chest. That didn't happen either. She remained dangling from her daughter's footboard bedposts. Joan had no idea how long she hung by her breasts like a slab of beef waiting for inspection. But through the haze of unrelenting pain Joan heard her fifteen-year-old daughter's chirpy, cheerful voice. “ Oh god please no! Please God no. Let my daughter escape from her insane b*****r's clutches .” Joan prayed behind her duct-taped mouth that was stuffed with two pairs of her panties that were filled by the pet cat's bodily waste products. “MOMMY I Did IT!”