Make Mom drink the penalty wine

"Get lost! Why can't you wait for me to climax together? Just be more patient! We've been together for years! You still don't know how to make me happy. My ex-husbands..." Hearing my mother's roar, I scurried back to my bedroom. She and my father had a weekly lovemaking day, and after each time, she would rush to the bathroom to shower. I didn't want to be caught.

Since I was thirteen, I'd heard this conversation a thousand times. Five years had passed, and I kept spying on them, sighing that they never really made love properly. Every Friday night, at ten o'clock, they would go to their room hand in hand, hoping to reach climax together this time.

My father was a worker, a good family man, but unfortunately, he completely failed at being a good lover. His record was ninety seconds; premature ejaculation was his nightmare, the reason my mother was going crazy. To make my father last longer, my mother always tried everything, but all she got in return was unsatisfied desire and exhaustion. So, as a result of her long-term disappointment, berating her father became a habit.

However, while her father was deeply embarrassed by her scolding, I, peeping outside the room, found satisfaction. Watching my mother undress, seeing her legs spread wide for my father, the visual stimulation was undeniable. In fact, since entering puberty, my mother had become the sole object of my sexual fantasies. I often masturbated before bed, imagining her moans, reliving the image of her vigorously shaking her hips trying to arouse my father.

At forty-one, she not only retained her charm, but her beauty was comparable to that of a young model. Her hair was a striking gold, her breasts were full and round, a 36C, and at approximately 170 centimeters tall, her legs were slender and long. She had put a lot of effort into skincare, applying lotion daily, resulting in skin that still looked fair and rosy like porcelain.

I, nineteen years old, a college student on summer vacation, with a handsome appearance, was the type that would be a plus for attracting girls. Of course, I couldn't waste my freshman year, so I dated girls like clothes, going on dates with a different girl every week. However, I still had sexual fantasies, and the object of those fantasies was still my mother. The reason was simple: she was the truly perfect woman in my heart.

My parents' arguments continued, the topic lingering on their unsatisfied sexual relationship. Just as I was getting annoyed, there was a sudden silence. My father had stormed off to prepare for his business trip. He was going away for a week, leaving tomorrow morning, which meant he would miss my cousin's wedding tomorrow night. My mother hated attending family gatherings alone, so my father insisted that I go with her. This suggestion was exactly what I wanted; I almost cheered.

My mother and I were very close, but she would never have guessed that I was actually sexually attracted to her. I guessed that if she knew about my fantasies, given her hysterical nature, she'd probably have a stomach hemorrhage from anger.

After masturbating, I felt sleepy, looking forward to attending the wedding banquet with my mother tomorrow night, and drifted off to sleep.

Saturday was a rare sunny summer day, with clear skies and a gentle breeze. Dad went to the airport early in the morning, while Mom went to the beauty salon to get her hair and makeup done. I, on the other hand, soaked in the bathtub, imagining dancing with Mom. Around three o'clock, she finally came home. After my shower, I went downstairs and met her getting ready.

At 4:30, everything was finally done. I was dressed in a sharp suit, while she wore a knee-length black dress with a U-neck that revealed most of her ample breasts, her cleavage deep and alluring. Her skin was as white as snow, a perfect match for the black dress.

In addition, she wore seductive black stockings and bright red high heels, making her even more striking and eye-catching. And with the help of the clothes, her hip curves were flawless.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, completely oblivious to the strange look in my eyes.

"No, it's just that you look... absolutely stunning!"

"I dressed up carefully. It's a pity your dad can't see. I bought this outfit for him, I just hope... oh well, never mind." Of course, I knew she dressed up to impress her dad, and I knew her disappointment stemmed from the lack of anyone around to admire her. The opportunity was fleeting, and tonight was the perfect time. I had to take some action to take my relationship with my mom a step further.

On the way to the wedding venue, sitting in the driver's seat, I kept stealing glances at my mom's legs. I really wanted to take advantage of her focused driving to fondle her beautiful legs. And so, for the entire thirty-minute drive, I constantly battled my wicked desires.

Having just finished my freshman year of college, I was still treated like a child by my relatives. And when we arrived, I noticed that almost everyone, including my dad's brothers, was desperately trying to peek at my mother.

We dined with some familiar relatives; the food tonight was just average. However, whether the food was delicious or not wasn't the point; all I was thinking about was finding a way to get my mother to comply. I thought, perhaps I could invite her to dance, or maybe we could go for a walk. I refused to believe these methods would be ineffective. I needed absolute confidence in myself; only confidence could generate power, influence others, and give me the opportunity to build a relationship with my mother that was completely different from before.

At nine o'clock, the band started playing, and I invited my mother to dance a few songs. After dancing four songs in a row, we were both drenched in sweat. On the way back to our seats, I gently placed my hand on her waist, and as we passed the bar

, I asked her if she wanted a drink. She said she wanted a whiskey, and I had prepared two. The heat and the thirst from dancing meant that my mother finished her drink in just a few sips. Seeing her drink so heartily, I immediately handed her the drink again and asked her to dance a few more times. At ten o'clock, the lights dimmed, and finally, the first slow movement of the evening began. I held her hand tightly, lest someone suddenly appear and invite her away. The men in the room were all staring at my mother's beautiful legs, their eyes filled with lust. I thought that given the chance, they would definitely pounce on her and knock her to the ground. Palm to palm, gently holding her waist, face to face, the distance between us was only a few centimeters.

While dancing, we laughed and talked about the changes in some relatives we hadn't seen in a long time. Perhaps it was the alcohol starting to take effect, but she seemed very happy, laughing loudly from time to time. Inadvertently, I smelled the alluring perfume on her body, and felt her body temperature as our bodies lightly touched.

The first song ended, and the second was about to begin.

"Let's go back and rest for a bit," she said.

I couldn't miss this only opportunity; I thought now was the best time. "Mom, no! I rarely have the chance to dance with such a beautiful woman!" I blurted out, suddenly realizing that my heart was beating terribly fast.

She gave me a suspicious look, then smiled and said, "Save those words for your girlfriend." Seeing that she was about to leave, I immediately grabbed her. "Mom, please, just finish this one." She reluctantly agreed. We returned to our previous dance position, the only difference being that this time I placed both hands on her waist.

She awkwardly put her hands on my shoulders, constantly trying to widen the distance between us. Of course, I wouldn't let her succeed. As the music continued, I slowly moved closer to her. Without a word, she turned her head away, refusing to meet my gaze. When the distance between us was only a few centimeters, I said gently, "Mom, it's so nice to dance with you." She didn't respond to my words, just joking about Uncle's cheap clothes, not paying any attention to me at all. That was fine, it saved her from noticing the bulge in my crotch, and besides, I could take advantage of her distraction to hug her. Taking a deep breath, I strode forward, bumping into her head, letting the bulge in my pants touch her body.

Miscalculation! I shouldn't have let my penis touch Mom's lower abdomen directly.

My mom suddenly shoved me away, yelling, "What the hell are you doing? You pervert! I'm your mother, not a prostitute. Don't try to take advantage of me with such low-class methods. David, now go back to your seat and sit properly, and don't let anyone find out what you've done!" I felt the earth shake, wishing I could dig a hole and hide immediately. The worst had finally happened; my dream was shattered!

For the rest of the time, I stayed far away from my mom. After the wedding banquet, I made an excuse and asked my uncle to drive me home.

Lying in bed, my thoughts were in complete disarray. I thought about her feeling, her scent, her legs. But then the scene changed; her appearance suddenly became terrifying, transforming from a kind mother into a lowly prostitute who had humiliated me. Damn it, the thought filled me with rage. I'm eighteen, but she treated me like an eight! No matter what, I had to get my revenge.

The call for revenge sounded; I was going to fuck her hard and show her who was in charge!

***

***

***

The day after the humiliation, I woke up exceptionally early.

As soon as I got out of bed, I went straight to my desk, turned on my computer, entered my favorite chat room, opened my contact list, and checked if my online best friend, "C-man," was online. C-man is twenty-six years old and works in Hollywood, specializing in photography and editing. We often have competitions in the chat room: each of us chooses a woman, then starts showering her with sweet talk, seeing who ends up becoming her virtual sex partner. We occasionally meet at rave bars for a couple of drinks.

"C-man" is my dating mentor, having taught me many tricks for picking up girls. He knows about my obsession with my mother and often jokes about it. However, he doesn't think my mother complex is abnormal; he always says that as long as you know what you're doing, there's no right or wrong.

I don't know many people in society, and he's the only one who can offer useful advice. So, I told him about last night's tragedy and asked him to help me think of a way to win back my mother. Finally, I gave him my home address and invited him to come over at 3 PM.

All morning, I tried my best to avoid seeing my mother. If we unfortunately bumped into each other, I would apologize profusely, while she would nag incessantly.

"I know you've grown up, David. But wake up, I'm your mother! Let's forget about last night and get back to life." With that, she changed into a pink bikini and strolled to the garden pool to sunbathe.

Around 2:30 PM, I, remaining in the house, prepared to be a dutiful son and bring her a refreshing drink. I took two sleeping pills from her medicine bottle and, "thump," tossed them into her drink.

"David, thank you, I was just thinking of something cold." She took the spiked drink from my hand. "Thank goodness for your thoughtfulness, the sun almost made me faint today." Back in the room, through the window, I saw my mother gulp down the drink, and then, the effects of the pills slowly took hold.

At three o'clock, the doorbell rang precisely on time, and it was C. After welcoming him in, I asked him to wait in my room. Everything was ready except for the final step; to ensure my plan succeeded, this last step was essential.

At 3:15, I told my mother that a repairman was fixing the V8 in my room. My words displeased her. Not wanting a stranger to see her in a bikini, she tried to get up and put on a large scarf. However, under the influence of the sleeping pills, she was weak and listless.

"David, I might have heatstroke; help me back inside." I helped her to the living room and sat her on the sofa. I turned to tell C to come downstairs so he could meet my mother. As time ticked by, my mother's strength and spirit gradually faded.

C came downstairs with the V8 in his hand and introduced himself to my mother. My mother tried to speak, but her consciousness was fading, and she couldn't utter a single word.

Looking back at C, I gave the signal to act.

Good things often come with difficulties, and so do bad things. "David, damn it, your lens is broken," he cursed. "Go buy a new one right away. I can fix it right away and get everything done in an hour. I'll erase this tape first, then you go buy it." Before leaving, I looked down at my mom and yelled that I was going out to buy something. "Mom, did you hear me? I won't be gone for long. You lie down and relax." When I returned, my mom was half asleep. I told C to hurry up and get the equipment ready. A little while later, C placed the V8 on the table, pointed the lens at my mom, and pressed the red record button.

I stood by the door as a lookout, quietly watching my accomplice sit down next to my mom. He put one arm around my mom's shoulder and the other hand touched her thigh. Without wasting any time, he quickly slipped his hand inside her bikini. My mom mumbled something, sounding like she was begging him to stop. But who would let go of a piece of meat that's already in their mouth? My mother's feeble resistance seemed more like a reluctant acceptance. C, no longer polite, ripped off her bikini, revealing her two large, round breasts.

My God! What beautiful breasts! I wanted to rush over and fondle them, to suckle her nipples. As C bent down to suckle her nipples, my mother tried to push him away. However, the weak resistance created an amusing scene; they looked like they were playfully teasing each other. C, true to his profession, kept my mother's face directly in front of the camera while he groped her, ensuring every movement captured her expression. I urged him to hurry, and he immediately pulled off her swim trunks. He lifted her legs, spread them apart, and laid her flat on her back.

Thick pubic hair appeared. Seeing those beautiful private parts, I wanted to pull out my penis and masturbate, but with my friend beside me, I had to suppress the urge. My heart was filled with mixed emotions. I watched as C buried his face between my mother's legs, licking her vulva with his tongue. She let out muffled moans, almost falling asleep. I gestured for C to wrap my mother's arms around his neck. C did so, tucking her hands under her shirt to prevent them from slipping. If anyone saw this, they would think my mother was pressing C's head between her legs, wanting him to lick deeper. After finishing, C kissed my mother while pulling down his pants.

"Hey!" I shouted, "Remember, no ejaculation inside."

He gave me a mocking smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm not a premature ejaculator. Watch closely, I'm going to fill your mother's vagina with my penis." My heart raced, and my mind raced. How could I not worry? My mother hadn't taken birth control pills; I didn't want her to get pregnant. And I remembered why I chose C as the protagonist: he was clean and had a steady girlfriend of four years. While I was lost in thought, C had already lifted my mother's legs high, his penis sliding into her vagina.

He began thrusting vigorously. My mother's hands were spread at her sides, and she moaned continuously. I just stood by, watching my friend play with my goddess. Ten minutes later, it was all over.

He stood up, put on his pants, and turned off V8. "David, come on, let's go to my house. We'll edit it properly, make a masterpiece that can win an Oscar for adult films. By the way, you won't mind me ejaculating inside your mother, will you? I really couldn't hold back." "It's alright, consider it retribution for her humiliation of me last night." I walked to my mother's side, looking at her sleeping face. My hand landed on her breasts, gently rubbing them. My mother's genitals smelled of C's semen. I inserted my fingers into my mother's vagina, slowly stirring, smearing the semen on the vaginal walls.

Suddenly, C spoke up, reminding me to help my mother put on her bikini and tidy her up. After that, we drove to C's house, where he skillfully and professionally edited a super realistic pornographic film. The mother in the film looked like a slut, completely forgetting her married status and enjoying being fucked by other men. I asked him to make a few copies for me and confirmed that the master tape was back in my hands. I didn't want this film to leak. Only I could have it; it was my ultimate weapon against my mother in the future.

When I got home, I found that Mom had just finished showering. I knocked on her door and asked if she was feeling better. Did she remember what had just happened? Was she really asleep? To confirm, I kept asking, "Mom, are you really okay?" "Honey, I'm fine. I just slept for more than three hours, and I felt a little dizzy when I woke up, but it's nothing serious. Besides, I took two aspirin tablets and took a bath, so my energy is slowly returning." "That's good, Mom," I replied calmly. "I saw you looked unwell before I went out, and I was worried. You should rest, I'll take care of dinner." "Thanks, honey, get ready, I'll come downstairs then." We enjoyed a peaceful dinner. It seemed that Mom had no memory of what happened that afternoon. She seemed full of energy and had a smile on her face all evening. That night, I went back to my room and repeatedly watched the "action movie" that Mom herself had performed.

The next morning, Mom went out shopping. This gave me a chance to put on a show; I wanted to show my mom my amazing performance. Actually, it would be a lie to say I wasn't panicked, but I tried to stay calm, because only strength can lead to success. She'd always treated me like a pawn; now it was time for me to regain my confidence and take back control.

Around noon, my mom came home, and I considerately helped her carry her bags of purchases. After putting everything away, I invited her to the living room for a talk.

"What's wrong? You're so serious. Don't mention that night, okay? We agreed to forget about it." "Mom, no, it's nothing. Please sit down." I sat down. "When you left this morning, the doorbell rang, but when I answered, there was no one there, only a package and a note." I handed her the videotape and the note.

The note was unsigned; it read, "Thank you for the wonderful time. You can keep this videotape; I don't need to keep it." I added that I found the videotape when I opened the box. There were fifteen copies inside, each about twenty minutes long.

"What's in there?" she asked.

"Mom, you have the right to choose your own life, and I really don't want to interfere." Seeing my serious expression and heavy tone, she became even more confused. "I really love this family, but because I love you and Dad, I don't want Dad to be treated like an idiot." "What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked.

My trembling hand turned on the TV and pressed play on the VCR. At that moment, I could hardly breathe. Whether my relationship with my mother would become closer or break down, this moment would be a turning point.

The screen showed my mother lying on the sofa in a white bikini. Her eyes slowly widened, her gaze fixed on the television. Then, a man appeared from behind the camera and sat down beside her. Watching the video, her mouth gaped open, her face filled with disbelief, her whole body stiff, like a doll.

"What...what...what the hell is going on?" Her tone was a mixture of pessimism, shock, sorrow, and anger. "Who was that man? When did this happen? How could this happen?" I felt terrible! It seemed she was losing control. However, the die was cast. Remembering her disdainful tone and the humiliation of that night, I told myself I would never give up!

My mother walked towards me, snatched the remote control, and ejected the video. Cold sweat began to bead on her forehead, and her body trembled uncontrollably. I stood quietly to the side, giving her some time to think. She couldn't remember letting the man in the video into the room. She had absolutely no recollection of that man, couldn't recall when it happened, and what troubled her even more was that she questioned why she couldn't remember anything.

"Where did you go yesterday?" she roared.

"Have you forgotten? Didn't you kick me out yesterday afternoon?" I said again, "Weren't you busy flirting with strangers?" "Flirting? Flirting my ass! I was raped, and I have absolutely no recollection of it." Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Mom, don't lie to me. You seemed to be enjoying it. Did you see those expressions, hear those moans? Would someone who has been raped behave like that? It was clearly consensual. As for what I wanted to say, how could you bring your lover home?" "Lover?" She yelled at me forcefully, "Get out of here!" Holding the videotape, she ran back to her bedroom, crying.

I sat in the kitchen, waiting for her to calm down. Thirty minutes later, she reappeared, her face still wet with tears.

"I'm going to call the police," she whispered.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath. I needed to get the plan moving faster.

"Mom, sit down and think it over. You don't want the neighbors to know about this, do you? Whether it was rape or infidelity, you shouldn't make a fuss. What if he gets upset and comes looking for you again? Besides, since he even returned the copy to you, doesn't that mean he'll never show up again?" "Right, the copy! Give it to me right now!" Her tone was forceful.

"Don't rush, listen to my opinion first. Maybe you can get out of this unscathed." I stood up, held out my hand, and asked her to come with me to the living room. She followed me, sobbing. I told her that currently only the two of us knew about this, and with the copy in hand, there was nothing to fear. There was no issue of intimidation.

However, she didn't listen to my explanation and kept demanding that I give her the copy. So, I made a condition.

"I should let Dad know about this, but I don't want to hurt you. You know I love you very much." At this moment, I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her tightly into my arms. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest. "Mom, I won't tell anyone. I don't want you to be looked down upon by your friends or neighbors. I also promise I'll never let the video leak out, as long as you promise me one thing, 'help me'!" She stopped sobbing and looked at me with curiosity. Her eyebrows were raised, her usual expression when she was questioning someone.

"What do you mean? What do you mean by 'help'?"

I placed my hands on her knees and then moved them upwards, gently stroking her thighs.

"You know exactly what I mean," I said. "I'm an adult now, I have physical needs, and I have endless questions about sex. Maybe you can be my sex mentor." The woman in front of me had great power. When I was young, her words were law. When I made mistakes, whether she hit me or said something, she could always beat me up. Therefore, I was very surprised that she could say such a thing.

Frowning, she suddenly stood up, looked down at me, and screamed, "How could you become so perverted? You...you bastard!" After speaking, she quickly ran back to the bedroom.

I went out, leaving her home alone. I thought I should give her some time to seriously consider her situation. I went to a bar, downed several large beers, and kept thinking about what I had done to my mother.

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