Heather Brown - Mom_s boy hunger

"Very, very bad," Parker chillingly interjected.

"Wha-what do-do you mean?" I stammered.

"Seems as though the roles have been reversed in your families," Franklin resumed the initiative. "Your girls tell us that they're more like the mothers, and you two are more like a couple of wayward daughters. The prescription seems to be a little discipline to bring you back into line."

It didn't take Diane and, me long to ascertain what she had in mind. Particularly when Franklin gestured to a device behind her that was originally intended to exercise one's arms, but for which she and her confederate had apparently developed a much more sinister use.

There were springs coming out of the wall, with straps attached to the ends of them. Down at the bottom were a couple of more harnesses for the ankles. Originally the apparatus had been intended to build up the arms, the idea being to lock the rest of the body into a stationary position while the subject made striking motions against the tension of the springs. However, with a few minor adjustments, the device could easily be employed as an instrument of torture.

"Which one of you would like to be disciplined first?" Parker asked, a smile flickering across her tough face for the first time.

Diane and I were speechless. Although we'd walked into this bizarre situation with our eyes wide open, the reality of it was far more numbing than the preceding speculation.

"You'll do," Franklin snapped and grabbed Diane. "This room reeks of your cheapness."

Franklin's grab caused Diane to involuntarily leap across the floor. Despite the gym teacher's short stature, she was obviously a powerhouse of strength.

She literally slammed Diane against the vertical plane of the arm exerciser. Grabbing her wrists, while Parker took ahold of Diane's ankles in an astonishingly cat-like movement for a body so huge, Franklin had her spread-eagled.

All four straps were quickly secured in place and Diane was hanging helplessly from the wall, as though she had been crucified. The expression on her face was utter terror.

I started to protest, but then bit my tongue. I'd suddenly remembered Sally's and Trudy's warning: "Do everything they say."

"Look at those clothes," Franklin said snidely to Parker. "Aren't they just precisely what your basic tramp is wearing these days?"

"I couldn't agree with you more," Parker cluckingly responded, "She looks so cheap."

"I wonder if she'd look any better without those slut clothes," Franklin smiled sardonically.

"Only one way to find out," was Parker's obviously stock reply.

"My conclusion, exactly," Franklin said, as she grabbed a fistful of Diane's blouse. Then, without batting an eyelash, she ripped it to shreds.

"No bra, I see," Parker remarked, as she stared witheringly at Diane's bobbing bare breasts.

"No shame," Franklin added. "I wonder if the little hustler is wearing any panties."

Without waiting for her compatriot's answer, she seized a hunk of Diane's skirt even more vigorously than she had snagged the blouse, and tore it away.

I knew that Diane usually wore panties, but they were added sexual paraphernalia, not to cover anything up. In fact, sometimes she wore the crotchless variety, her pussy surrounded by a swirl of gaudy lace. I wondered how the two gym teachers would react if they saw those.

They quickly did. That horny bitch, Diane, had worn her sexiest panties for the occasion. The lips of her pussy dangled through the nonexistent crotch.

"Will you look at this," Franklin said to Parker.

"Just who does the little slut think she is?" Parker answered, as though their routine were well-rehearsed.

"Let's find out," Franklin grinned with sinister conviction.

She knelt in front of Diane, thrusting her hand between my friend's splayed legs. All of a sudden Franklin's fingers were all over my friend's exposed cunt, squeezing and kneading the helpless organ.

Franklin broke out laughing.

"What's so funny?" her partner wanted to know.

"The little bitch has shaved her twat. I guess she just can't keep her hands off herself. Look!"

Franklin's hand clenched around one side of the panties and ripped them down the middle. Diane was abruptly stark naked, the puffy triangle of her pussy throbbing at the crux of her thighs.

"It's basically not a bad looking cunt," Parker said, "even without the hair. The pussy lips could be a little fuller, though."

"I think I can arrange that," Franklin smirked, grabbing a handful of labia. Then she twisted, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from my horribly abused friend.

When she let go, the lips of Diane's snatch were turgid from the cruel torture. The poor girl looked as though she had just sat on a hive of bees she was so swollen down there.

"She's looking better," Parker pronounced judgment. "What about her clit? Did you get that?"

"I was saving it," she was told by Franklin. "I wanted its pain to be special. Extra-special."

Now she parted the top folds of my friend's labia with her fingertips. A glimmering pink button popped out, no bigger than a pearl. I shudderingly realized that this was a delicate condition which would not last for long.

Franklin plucked the rosy nubbin as though it were the inner bud of some tropical flower. At first she was reasonably gentle, but only until she had a good grip. Then she wrenched the poor morsel of erogenous flesh in a severe 180 degree turn.

If Diane's previous cry had been blood-curdling, its successor practically raised the roof Her eyes were rolling. Sweat was popping out of every pore.

But Franklin did not let up on the pressure. Now the clitoral turn became a 360 degree one. Any more twisting and Diane's clit might be severed from her body.

Franklin stopped just short of disaster. When she let go of it, Diane's clit snapped back into place. However, by now it was at least three times its normal size and a dark hue of Purple.

"Must be awfully sensitive by now," Parker dryly observed.

Franklin laughed and ran her fingernail over the bloated lump at the top of Diane's cunt. There was another scream.

However, this time my friend's agony had a new and unexpected feature. Despite the fact that she was whipsawed by pain, her pussy suddenly glistened from something flowing from within. When Franklin scratched, her nail again there was yet another scream to be sure, but there was also such an outpouring-, of juice that it ran down Diane's thighs.

"It hurts good, doesn't it, sweetheart." Franklin picked up on this. "Hurts soooo gooood."

"Y-y-yes," Diane almost floored me with her acquiescence. "Hun me mare!"

Parker responded to this invitation like a fullback plunging through the line. Suddenly she was there, seizing my friend's tits and twisting the nipples. "Your tis are kind of small," she cackled. "I'll have to punish them extra hard to make them swell to something near the right size."

She abandoned her fingers and went to her teeth. Pushing Diane's breasts together, yes, Parker bit into both nipples at once. Diane howled-but I noticed that down below her pussy was absolutely gushing.

Franklin immediately took advantage of this. She was through with digital manipulation now, too, turning to her mouth. She began eating Diane's cunt-sinking her gnashing fangs into her vulva.

With dykes chewing her upstairs and downstairs, Diane stopped screaming. A series of low throaty moans ensued.

All of a sudden I no longer felt sorry for my friend. I was jealous.

Infinitely more so when the two gym teachers began removing their clothing. Within seconds they were naked, and I was gasping at their individualistic beauty.

Models neither of them were. But who needed such a narrow definition of beauty? Franklin and Parker, in their strikingly different ways, were all that a horny person could ask of a nude woman.