“Sierra Jean Smith!” my mom screamed at my bedroom window from the back yard. “Get your butt down here now!”
“Fuck,” I mumbled, rolling over and looking at my alarm clock: 8:08 AM. I’d been up all night drinking; my head was pounding and my mouth felt like a toilet. I wanted to hop in the shower, brush my teeth, and have breakfast (maybe with a little hair of the dog in my OJ), but I knew from the tone of my mother’s voice that if I wasn’t downstairs in fifteen seconds she’d be up here pulling me out of bed.
I rolled out of bed, relieved that I had at least managed to change into my ancient, faded Lilo & Stitch nightshirt and plain white underwear bottoms without throwing up anywhere before passing out last night. I padded downstairs with a yawn, wondering why mom was even still here; she should’ve left for work by now. I was home for summer break from college, and it was already so warm I didn’t bother with a bra or shoes as I walked out into the backyard where mom’s white Altima was parked; we were so far from the neighbors you could kill someone back here without anybody noticing, which come to think of it I hoped wasn’t about to happen to me.
Mom was waiting for me, dressed for work in a dark blue skirt suit and heels, her arms crossed angrily across her chest, her foot impatiently tapping the grass.
“Do you want to tell me what this is?” she gestured at her car.
“Uh… your Altima.”
“Don’t be a smart mouth. I’m talking about this!” She pointed inside the open rear passenger door, and my heart sank as I realized I’d missed quite a bit of empty liquor bottles during my drunken attempt to clean the car out last night. Not only were there several empties on the floor, but a couple had spilled on the seats; the disgusting smell of old, stale booze wafted over me as I stepped in for a closer look.
“Oops,” I muttered.
“‘Ooops’? ‘Oops’?” Mom seethed. “I hope you have more to say for yourself than that!”
“Mom-”
“And you smell like a cheap liquor store!” she yelled. “First, you’re going to clean this up. Then, you’re going to pay for the interior to be detailed. Then I’m going to put you over my knee-”
“Mom, can you stop yelling?” My head was pounding, and she’d walked right up to me and was hollering in my face.
“I’m not yelling!” she screamed. “Now let’s review! One -” she started counting off on her fingers - “underage drinking-”
“By a year! Barely!”
“Keep going,” she said, her voice now eerily quiet. “Go ahead, Sierra. Say one more thing. Go ahead.”
I took a deep breath, weighing my options. Cleaning the car would be easy, I could have that knocked out in a few minutes. But I couldn’t really afford to pay for the detailing; I could barely afford food and books. I guessed I could get a part time job. The spanking… I knew that would be a bad one; I’d have to get a life preserver or something to sit on.
Or I could say no. There’d be a fight, that was for sure. The last time we’d full on fought was when I was 15 and didn’t want to eat the meatloaf she’d made; I had lost that one pretty bad, but that was when I’d been five years younger and four inches shorter.
I sized us both up quickly. I had Mom’s red hair and hazel eyes, and we were both about 5’8” (I was maybe a quarter inch taller than her), but that’s where the similarities ended; Mom keeps her hair in a professional reverse bob, down to her jaw in front and short in the back, while mine is long and normally loose halfway down my back, this morning twisted into a huge snarl that was going to take a long shower and a lot of combing to fix.
Mom’s face is long, with sharp features, thin lips and a pointy little chin; I have a rounder face with softer features and fuller lips. Mom is slim, with small, high breasts, narrow shoulders and hips, and thin limbs - not that she didn’t have a ropey strength I’d experienced first hand. I’m a bit wider - broader shoulders and hips, a bigger butt, and full C-cup breasts and thicker limbs.
“Well?” Mom barked. “What’s it going to be, Sierra?”
“I’m not going to pay for -”
I didn’t get any further before mom lunged, unleashing a furious slap, turning my head as her hand smacked into my cheek. This was just the opening move, as before the gasp had finished leaving my mouth her fist slammed into my tummy.
I leaned forward against my mother with a moan; she pushed me back, her left hand on my shoulder, her face twisting into an angry snarl as she busted me in the jaw with her right hand. I went down on the grass, staring up at the bright morning sky.
Mom came around to my right side, lifting her leg up; I realized she was about to stomp on my stomach with the heel of her shoe. I rolled out of the way with a yelp, getting up to my feet as quickly as I could; I guess I was still a little winded from my mother’s assault as she was on me before I finished standing.
Mom grabbed my shirt and pulled; with a scream she managed to rip it straight down the middle and I tumbled backwards into a sloppy somersault, coming up to my feet, staring at my mother holding the two halves of my shirt.
More than getting my face slapped, more than the gut punch, for some reason her ripping my shirt really set me off; I didn’t even notice I was topless as I charged my mother with a scream. She tried to step out of the way, too slow; I grabbed her suit jacket, pulling it off her roughly.
“I’m going to get your shirt!” I bellowed, grabbing her white sleeveless undershirt and pulling. It came apart with a low, loud, and intensely satisfying riiiiiiipppppp, leaving my mother in just her plain black bra from the waist up. Mom stepped back, reached behind herself, unhooked her bra, then threw it in my face. It landed on top of my head, and I stood there stunned as my opponent came in charging behind it, lifting her kneecap into my belly.
I went down to my knees, gasping and holding my stomach, then collapsed over on my side, wheezing. Mom, full of compassion, went around behind me and started kicking me in the back with the pointed toe of her shoe as I writhed in the grass, trying to catch my breath.
After taking a half dozen extremely painful kicks, I was able to catch enough breath to roll over onto my chest and get up on all fours, but before I could do anything else my mother grabbed the bra off my head, wrapped it around my neck, and pulled.
I gagged as my mother’s bra constricted my windpipe; I tried to get a few fingers between my neck and the material, but she already had it cinched in good, grunting with effort as she choked me.
“C’mon, Sierra, go to sleep,” my mother hissed. “That’s all you want to do, isn’t it? Drink and sleep all day?”
Desperate, I got my feet planted underneath me and stood up. Mom rode this out, but now I was able to slam my elbow back into her stomach, and she backed off, the bra falling loose, slipping down to the grass as I backed up and turned to face my opponent.
I shook my head as we squared off; so far my mother was kicking my ass, and I didn’t know if I could survive her getting the upper hand on me again, my head light from the lack of oxygen, my neck burning where she’d dug her bra into my neck.
But maybe I could trick her. I played up my heavy breathing, wheezing so hard my head nodded up and down with each breath, keeping my right hand up in front of me, my left hand rubbing my neck. Mom smirked just before she attacked, faking a low right kick at my legs, then unleashing a left kick at my stomach.
I moved to the side, her foot hitting nothing but air. In return I aimed my best right hand at my mother’s jaw. Her hands were hopelessly out of position to try and block this, but she tried to duck it; I moved faster than she anticipated, and all she ended up doing was moving her head so that my fist smashed into her nose.
I laid my mother out flat as she landed on her back in the grass with a moan, covering her face with her hands; I could see blood welling between her fingers. I quickly grabbed her shoes, pulling them off before she knew what was happening; I didn’t want to take another kick from them.
The left one I tossed away, but I held on to the right; this could be a good weapon. I turned to mom as she sat up, bringing the shoe down and smashing the pointed heel down on top of her head.
My mother fell backward, her eyes rolling back in her head, her mouth flopping open as she came to rest in the grass. I’d hitten her so hard I’d broken the heel, and I tossed this shoe away as well, taking the opportunity to finish stripping my opponent, getting her skirt and underwear off with one pull, leaving her in just a now dirt-stained set of white ankle socks.
I rolled her over, pulling her up on my knee, relishing turning the tables as I started spanking her small, pale butt. This brought mom around, and she started squirming; I got a hammerlock on with my free hand, holding her in place as I turned her ass a bright, angry red.
“Sierra Jean Smith!” Mom squealed. “You let me go right now!”
“Sure, Mom,” I stopped for a second. “You just apologize and kiss my butt.”
“Never - aah!” Mom yelled as I gave her butt another slap. “You are in so much trouble!”
“Now that sounds like a woman who wants to keep getting spanked!” I yelled. I gave her a little bit more; by this point my hand was getting sore from slapping her ass.
By the time I was finished and rolled my mother off my knee, she was steaming mad, hopping to her feet, raising her fists with a snarl. We circled for a moment, each of us watching the other carefully.
“Sierra,” Mom snarled. “Why are your nipples hard?”
“What?” I realized with a start she was right; I could have cut glass with them. “Well, I guess I enjoyed kicking your ass-”
I’d put a little too much effort into my smart reply when I should have been watching Mom’s hands, and she darted in, smashing her right fist into my jaw. She hit me so hard I turned with the blow, landing on my left side with a grunt in the grass.
Mom went around to my front and started laying kicks into my belly and tits; at least she didn’t have her shoes on any more, but this still hurt plenty bad, and I curled up into a ball, trying not to sob as my sneering mother slammed her foot into me over and over.
“What now, miss smart mouth?” she yelled down at me. “Nothing clever to say now? Maybe it’s time for your spanking!” She straddled me, rolling me onto my chest. “But first let’s get these off!” She yanked my underwear down, leaving me without a stitch on; this at least gave me enough time to scoot out from under her legs, getting to my feet and getting my fists up, panting, dirt stuck to my skin by sweat.
“Hey, Mom,” I gasped as we faced off naked. “Looks like your nips are pretty hard, too.”
“Ugh,” Mom sighed, apparently hoping I wasn’t going to notice. Out of everything, this seemed like the only thing that had her embarrassed, and I decided to press, approaching her slowly, my arms wide.
“C’mon, give me a hug. We can rub them together.”
“Sierra, don’t be disgusting!” she barked, backing up a step. I followed, feeling my mouth twist into a leer. I watched her for a punch, but she seemed almost paralyzed by the awkwardness, unable to do anything but back up. I shifted position, backing her up into the car, giving her nowhere to run.
“Ooh, Mom,” I purred as I had her right where I wanted her. “Come on, give your little girl a hug!” I lunged, grabbing for her; she surprised me by coming forward, grabbing my nipples and twisting like she was trying to rip them off.
I howled in agony, my hands gripping her wrists weakly, the pain shooting out of my chest sapping my strength. A sob slipped out of my mouth as I failed to move my mother’s punishing hands off her targets, and I sank down to my knees, my merciless opponent coming with me until we were both kneeling in the grass.
Pain was fogging my thoughts, but even through the haze of agony it occurred to me that my hands were useless just pulling on mom’s wrists; I changed to my own nipple grip, but my hands were already shaking with weakness, and I didn’t manage much more than caressing her tits as she continued squeezing the life out of me. I soon gave up even this pathetic attack, leaning forward, resting my head on my mother’s shoulder, bawling helplessly.
Mom had no mercy; I think my loud crying in her ear just got on her nerves. For a blessed second I felt relief as her hands came over my tits, but it was only for her left hand to push on my shoulders, moving me back enough for the following uppercut, her right fist coming up and smashing into my jaw.
I flew backwards and landed on the grass, kind of wishing I’d taken that spanking and summer job now. My mother’s shadow fell over me as she stood up, staring down at me, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open as she panted.
“You had your chance,” she told me, sitting down on my tummy. “You had your chance!” She grabbed a handful of my hair with her left hand, then slapped my face with her right; the pain focused my mind, although not quick enough for me to do anything about the following slap she landed.
Mom shifted her weight down my body a little, sitting on my lower belly; she drew her hand back for another slap, this one aimed at my chest, and this one I knew I had to stop - I could only imagine the pain she’d be able to deliver if she was able to smash her hand into my sore boobs.
I bucked up, surprising my mother, who must’ve thought I was beyond fighting back; she was unseated with a yelp, falling off me on the right side. I rolled up to my feet, my opponent overcoming her surprise quickly, rising to meet me with her hands up.
Her target seemed obvious, but she did at least try to mask it, faking some belly hits as we closed; I waited, betting she was going after my chest, and sure enough she did, committing to a knife-edge chop at my breasts. I grabbed her right wrist, spinning behind her and yanking her arm up behind her back in my best hammerlock. Mom screamed, her left hand resting on her right shoulder as I worked the hold.
“How’s this feel, Mom?” I sneered. She tried to shoot her elbow back into my midsection, but I could see her and she couldn’t see me; it was easy to shift out of the way as she viciously elbowed the empty air.
“Oh, nice shot!” I giggled. I thought about punctuating this by swatting her rump - no doubt she’d make quite an entertaining sound when my hand hit her red, sore ass - but as fun as it would be to humiliate her some more, I wanted to finish her off now; it was true I had her right where I wanted her, but given half the chance I didn’t doubt she could turn the momentum back in her favor, and that might be all she’d need to finish me. No, it was time to end her.
I pressed myself against her, reaching around her body, quickly cupping her right breast, teasing her nipple; Mom gasped, her hand wrapping around my wrist, but not even attempting to pull it away from her chest, not even trying to slow my hand down as it slid slowly down her body between her legs.
“Sierra,” my mother gasped as I used my middle and index fingers to spread her pussy wide. “Please, don’t do this. Please…”
“Ahh, little late to beg now, isn’t it, Mom?” I hissed in her ear. Despite her pleading, she hadn’t closed her legs, and I moved to finish her, feeling her jolt as I slipped my middle finger into her pussy.
Mom bent over a little bit, rubbing her ass against my crotch; I think this was just a reflex, and it didn’t really make it any harder to work as I fingered my mother. I made sure to keep my hammerlock on her tight, but she’d given up and accepted that this was happening, moaning like a whore as I worked her over. As she got closer and closer, I switched from pumping my finger in and out to a curled, come-here motion; this really drove her wild, my mother howling with pleasure as I pushed her over the edge.
“C’mon, Mom, cum for your little girl,” I taunted her, having to yell over her cries of passion. I almost added “I want to hear it!”, but anybody within two miles was probably hearing it. In fact, I suspected she might be overdoing it a little, faking an orgasm to get me to let go, so I kept fingering her past the point where her body convulsed, past the point her vocalization faded down to a gentle mewling, past the point where her legs buckled.
I let her fall out of my grip, my defeated mother flopping on the grass in front of me. I rolled her over, seeing tired fear on her face for the first time. I reached back for a slap, laughing as she flinched pathetically.
“Sierra,” she gasped. “No more, please.”
“Oh, there’s a little more,” I leered down at her, sliding up until my crotch was directly over her face. “Just a little more, Mom.” I swung around to face her feet, then lowered my pussy onto her mouth. I doubted she was going to try and lean up and start licking me, but I didn’t give her the chance; I wanted to both get off and drive home who’d won, and I made sure my mother got the message as I started aggressively riding her face.
I latched on to her tits as I rode, squeezing them roughly as I worked my pussy over her mouth. I could feel her yelling, which just added a pleasant vibrating sensation. For a little bit I thought about taking my time, really drawing out my mother’s humiliation as her victorious daughter fucked her face, but this felt so nice that thought went out the window as the need to finish spread through my body.
As I climaxed I held on to mom’s boobs, squeezing them probably harder than I intended, my hips pushing down hard into her head; I didn’t care, in the grip of a powerful climax that left me so drained I flopped off her when I was finished, ready to go to sleep.
We lay there in the grass gasping for a little bit; Mom got up first, standing unsteadily, her breathing ragged, her hair now almost as messy as mine, her skin caked in dirt, sweat, and grass.
I don’t think I looked much better, but I had the glow of victory. I watched Mom totter into the house, taking another minute to catch my breath before following her and finally heading for that long hot shower.
