Quality Mother-Daughter Time; Avery and Amelia Part One

[Mr. Smith]

(Meanwhile, in a courtroom in Houston)

“Well, counsel, do we have a resolution to the Avery Bedford case?” asked Judge Horace Ledbetter sporting an amused grin while looking at my attorney, as I stood next to him naked, collared with my hands cuffed behind my back. In the courtroom, my parents and oldest brother Calum were standing on the other side of the bar in the front row.

My parents, Glen and Amelia Bedford, are mainstays of Dallas society. By the look on his face, my father Glen was clearly angry at how my case was proceeding. He was the president and CEO of Bedford Holdings and accustomed to having his way. My mother was a working mother of four with an MBA, former PTA president, regular charity volunteer, and devoted helicopter mom to my three older brothers and me. Yeah, I grew up privileged with a silver spoon in my mouth.

This was not the first time I had been in Judge Ledbetter’s courtroom, although it was the first time that I was slave naked wearing a collar. The first was almost a year and a half ago, after my pledge sisters for the Alpha Delta sorority and I pulled a prank after finals that resulted in over $20,000 in damages, with felony vandalism and conspiracy charges for us. The prank was both stupid and dangerous, we were lucking nobody was seriously injured. The brilliant idea for the prank was mine, earning me the ire of both the DA and Judge Ledbetter. The DA wanted a sentence of two-year criminal enslavement as pleasure sluts and the circle-star brand of a felon on our cute right buttocks to make an example of us. My father took care of the whole situation, hiring lawyers to pay off the damage and engaging the local DA to place my sorority sisters and me in a three-year diversion program with a deferred entry of judgment that required one hundred hours of community service.

There was one catch. I had to sign a five-year voluntary indenture with an option that my mother could exercise at will. She promised the DA that if I ever misbehaved again while at Rice good old mom would exercise the option with me ending up in some slave school and turned over to some master that I would marry. Yeah, right. After finals this spring, a couple of us went out celebrating. Feeling no pain we accepted a dare to streak across the quad slave naked wearing collars screaming, “Runaway slaves, runaway slaves, catch us if you can.” We got caught and the Dean of Women extended our school social probation by one year. I went home for the summer thinking I had dodged a bullet, getting one over on my mother.

Unfortunately, for me, a week later Mom found out when the DA contacted Dad letting him know about my latest escapade to include what new laws I had violated. Something along the lines of Disturbing the Peace, Indecent Exposure, and a Lewd Act. Seriously, who would consider the three of us running naked in public lewd. The DA wanted an update in a week on my indenture. Mom did not hesitate, filing the voluntary indenture papers with the court, which the judge promptly signed. I was now a slave.

That evening I went out with some friends not knowing that my status had changed from free woman to slave. After staying out partying, I crashed around 3:00 to 4:00 am but was having a hard time falling asleep as my bed kept spinning. Around 7:00 am two big slave wranglers with body odor and bad breath rudely awakened me. With my head still buzzing from the night before they dragged me out of bed, stripped me naked, cuffed, collared and gagged me. Then they held me down while my mom beat my ass with a paddle. I have never seen her so mad. She was yelling, “You stupid runaway slave, you got caught and now you are a slave!” Then she dropped to her knees, crying sadly while looking at me. “You have no idea what you have done. You never listen to me,” she sobbed. She was right, I was always my daddy’s little girl with an attitude.

The wranglers dragged me out to their van where I received my first slave lesson. If I thought their breath was bad, their cocks tasted worse. The first one was a thin five inches. After one zap with the slave prod I did not hesitate a second time to follow the “Suck and swallow, slut,” command. I know how to suck cock and had him blowing in just a few minutes as I swallowed his load. Thank god, I was still buzzed as I doubted I could do this completely sober. Then they switched places and the next one pulled out a filthy uncut seven-inch cock. I quickly got to work slurping down his load.

The Big D rapidly moved me through their in processing system while giving me my first tattoo, my new slave identification number inside my lower lip. Next thing I know I was backed into a dog cage gagged, my hands cuffed behind my back and two more loads of baby batter in my stomach. Did none of these wranglers know how to bathe with soap? Worse yet, another handler shot a glob of cum on the end of my nose and rubbed his leaking cock all over, spreading it right under my nostrils above my upper lip. This left a jizz mustache and me unable to wipe it off smelling his spooge for the trip. One female wrangler thought it was funny when she put a nametag with “princess” on my cage. I arrived at the Broadstone Obedience School hungover and tired, still suffering the semen smell ignominy, only to suffer further indignity when promptly given the nickname “princess” by the staff. My father met me there shortly after I arrived and told me I needed to be on my best behavior. Well, let us just say that this bitch princess with an attitude ignored his solid advice. This was the first school where I ever failed to excel. In fact, I excelled at failure there.

After a week or two in my new disobedience school, my father came by for a visit first thing in the morning and told me the DA had filed a motion to void the diversion agreement based on the streaking incident. The DA also argued that my poor performance in obedience school indicated that I was better suited for criminal enslavement and lacked the aptitude for diversion into Broadstone. No duh, for a variety of reasons I would never be a good sub for a man. I learned I was getting shipped via poodle cage to the courthouse in Houston where I would be held in the jail facility attached to the courthouse while my case was pending.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself on my knees in another cramped dog cage gagged with my hands cuffed behind my back. A Broadstone mistress had put on a chastity belt with prongs for my anus and pussy and sealed it in place, advising me that it would protect my holes from unauthorized use. Finally, they placed and sealed a hood over my head, as this was a criminal transport. Now I was really freaking out feeling sorry for myself wondering why I never bothered to listen to my mom during the long trip from Dallas to Houston. Looking on the bright side, at least I did not have to suffer the whole trip hungover with the smell of wrangler spooge under my nostrils.

The next morning there was the meeting with my lawyer and my father after they met in the judge’s chambers with the DA to discuss my case. The judge was giving me a choice. Due to my illegal public exhibitionism, he was more than willing to sentence me to criminal enslavement for three years. This included a thirty-day local sentence consisting of public and officer atonement sessions, corporal punishment, and the circle star brand on my right buttock followed by sale at auction as a pleasure slut where my family and friends were prohibited from purchasing me. I learned that during a public atonement session the inmate was placed in stocks for three hours with all three holes subject to public use, sometimes two simultaneously in a spit roast.

The alternative was a new felony diversion consisting of a five-year indenture, sale at auction, and if my parents purchased me, I was required to graduate from Broadstone. If! As if they would let anyone else buy me. There was also a thirty-day local sentence with officer atonement, corporal punishment and the mini-circle star brand between the cheeks as required by a new law this year. I was proud of my body and had never considered a tattoo or weird piercings. Now either way I was getting a permanent scar from a brand burned into my ass.

Just like the last time I was in court, there was a catch. There always seems to be a catch and this one was a doozy. For me to avoid criminal enslavement my mother had to agree to serve my local sentence with me, meaning she got thirty days quality time wearing a collar, the mini-circle star brand between the cheeks, served atonement sessions with me and received the identical corporal punishment as I. Hell would freeze over before my prim and proper mother, a pillar of Dallas society, stripped naked in this courtroom and kneeled asking to wear a slave collar. She had been right; I had no idea what I had done to myself when I ignored her advice.

I looked at my mother; she looked like she had aged a decade. We made eye contact and she sadly shook her head in despair. She took a deep breath, turned to my father pulling off her wedding and engagement rings. Handing them to him, she kissed him on the cheek and entered the well standing at counsel table where she proceeded to strip to the murmurs and snickers in the audience while the judge leered at her while sipping his coffee from the bench. First, she removed her earrings, bracelet and necklace placing them on the table. Then came her blouse and skirt. She had a sexy matching black bra and panty set with complementary garter belt and nylons. I was impressed. She looked hot as she paused before removing her bra, blushing in embarrassment standing in her four-inch heels and sexy lingerie.

I received my first surprise when she removed her bra as the audience gasped. She had matching nipple and navel piercings: who would have guessed? The judge choked on his coffee as he looked down upon her from the bench. Unscrewing the ends of the piercings was slow work as the entire courtroom watched in amazed silence as my mom blushed bright red with embarrassment. Good ole mom had taken care of herself over the years and looked a good decade younger than her true age. Then she kicked off her heels, unfastened her nylons from her garter belt and removed them. There were more surprises to follow.

When she pulled down her panties, more gasps from the crowd quickly followed when she revealed the two brands on her buttocks. One man forgot where he was, exclaiming, “Holy shit, she was a Venus pleasure slut!” Different female voices were heard whispering, “Slut, whore, tramp, tart, nympho.” The judge called the courtroom to order, quieting the crowd.
The brand on the left was a design highlighting a “V” that was the symbol for the Venus Academy which was the preeminent pleasure slut training school for slaves. Everyone in the courtroom knew what she had spent four months learning there. On her right buttock, she had a “B” that I recognized from the Broadstone, which was the school I was to attend. When she stood up, I observed a B in a diamond brand on her back over her right shoulder blade. It was a much smaller version of the brand used on our cattle at the family’s “Diamond B” ranch. Why was THAT branded on her back?

When she turned towards the table, I saw that she had vaginal piercings. I do not know whose jaw had dropped further, the judge or me. Holy shit, my prim and proper mom had some cool jewelry in her pussy the likes of which I had only seen on some of my sorority sisters who by the way all swore by what they called their hood ornaments.

It took a while for her to remove all three of them. The hoop in her right outer labia was rather straightforward. She had some trouble getting the dangle unscrewed on her Vertical Clitoral Hood piece. I thought she was going to die of embarrassment standing naked in the courtroom when she asked if anyone had some needle nose pliers she could borrow to remove her triangle piercing. The courtroom erupted in laughter as my mortified mother looked around the room. The poor bailiff finally found a pair and had her sit on counsel table with her legs spread wide and her feet on the table while he went to work with the pliers. I was suffering from sympathy embarrassment blushing myself as the bailiff broke the ball of the end of the horseshoe shaped piece and pulled it out all while Judge Ledbetter fumed at the delay.

The judge regained his composure first. “This pitiful excuse for a mother is a Venus Academy pleasure slut. Now I understand the failed parenting with this defendant. The defendant never had a chance,” commented the judge as mom blushed in disgrace.

Then it became weird. It turns out that Judge Ledbetter had the nickname “Swift Justice” known for inflicting corporal punishment in his courtroom at sentencing. After the bailiff fitted my mother with her collar, he bent us over the railing to the jury box, shoving our feet apart lewdly exposing our pussies to the crowd. It turns out the judge liked the new slaves to remember who sentenced them to slavery and had a unique way of accomplishing this. He had custom six-inch by four-inch butt plugs with his initials on the end. The bailiff promptly donned plastic gloves, jammed a lubed finger up my ass telling me to take a deep breath and exhale when he had the lubed plug ready for insertion. As I exhaled, he jammed that thing up into my colon in one hard shove eliciting a high-pitched shriek resembling a Banshee from me to the continued amusement of the audience as my mom watched on in mortification, knowing she was next. Mom had better control, only grunting when the bailiff shoved the plug home.

The judge then ordered five swats for each of us with a cane because my mom took so long stripping and delayed the court’s business, causing more laughter in the crowd. The bailiff promptly applied the first five to my tender ass leaving five long painful stripes. I could feel the long welts rising on my buttocks after each swat leaving me bawling like a baby. Then it got even weirder.

“Defendant Avery Bedford will administer the five swats to her failure of a mother, Amelia Bedford. If the defendant does not use sufficient force, she will receive another five and until she gets it right. After every swat her mother is to recite, ‘Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,’” directed the judge as my mother blanched in horror. The judge just grinned at us like the Cheshire Cat as the courtroom exploded into laughter.

I still had tears running down my cheeks when the bailiff released my hands and gave me the cane. The judge nodded to proceed.

“Thwack.” Not holding back, I landed the first blow leaving a good stripe.

“Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,” said my mother.

“Thwack.” I administered the second swat leaving another good welt.

“Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,” she moaned.

“Thwack.” I applied the next swipe leaving another line.

“Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,” she sobbed.

“Thwack.” I landed the fourth swat leaving another weal.

“Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,” she cried.

“Thwack.” I administered the fifth and final swat leaving another growing welt.

“Pleasure sluts should not be mothers,” groaned mom.

The bailiff took the cane from my hand, directed us to stand with our hands behind our backs. He cuffed our hands as Judge Ledbetter officially ruled placing me into the new felony diversion program with thirty days local custody directing the branding done forthwith today. Then the court was in recess for the morning break and we were led, walking gingerly, out of the courtroom into a hallway and right into the judge’s chambers.
Judge Ledbetter was leaning against his desk unbuckling his belt laughing at us as we kneeled at his feet with my mom to my left. He dropped his pants and underwear to his ankles revealing an uncircumcised cock growing into an impressive eight-inch erection. Stepping out of his pants, he leered at the two of us.

“You have no idea how hard it is making me, learning that the high and mighty Mrs. Amelia Bedford is a Venus pleasure slut who is going to show her daughter how to suck cock. Lick the head,” he directed grabbing mom by the hair pulling her mouth to his cock.

Mom’s tongue flicked out and she started bathing the head of his cock with her saliva, as she blushed refusing to make eye contact with me. In college, I helped a sorority sister give her boyfriend a two-girl blowjob that was hot. The same kind of blowjob with my mom was NOT hot; this was beginning to freak me out.

Next thing I knew he grabbed me by my hair pulling me toward his balls.

“Give my balls a tongue bath while your mom polishes my knob,” he directed.

What is it with men who do not know how to use soap when showering as I found the disgusting cottage cheese where his scrotum met his groin. I went to work on his nutsack while mom worked on his head as he groaned in delight.

“Time for you to swallow it,” he directed as my mom effortlessly took the whole thing down her throat as she hummed with her nose in his pubic hair. Add deepthroating an eight-inch cock to the list of skill sets I never expected to see my mother perform in my presence during my lifetime. After plunging his cock down her throat five to six times, he switched it up, grabbing us by the hair directing us to the sides of his cock.

“Lick the shaft,” the judge commanded as he directed our tongues along the sides of his shaft.

Mom and I were now nose-to-nose moving up and down his large shaft looking each other in the eye. Our tongues frequently touched on the underside of his cock as we licked up and down his rod as we died inside while blushing red on the outside. After a minute or two of this, he wanted something new.

“Show me how a Venus pleasure slut polishes a rosebud,” ordered the judge as my mom moved behind him as he jammed his cock into my mouth.

“I hear the daughter is quite the promiscuous slut at Rice. Guess the rotten apple does not fall far from the tree,” he chuckled as he started face fucking me, driving all eight inches down my throat and causing me to gag. “Or not,” he laughed as I was unable to swallow his sword like my mom.

As he fucked my face, I could tell he was getting close when suddenly he pulled his cock out of my mouth, grabbing me by the hair and bending my head back.

“Hold your mouth open and do NOT swallow,” he grunted as he masturbated, aiming his cock at my face.

He then gave me my first porn star facial, something I had NEVER let a college boy try, getting some in my mouth but most of it all over my face. One strand ran from my hair into my eye and onto my cheek. When he was done, he rubbed the last drop of cum from his cock on the last clean spot on my right cheek. A large glob of his cum ran off my face, landing onto my left breast against my nipple.

“Clean the cum off your daughter’s face with your tongue like you are a cat. You can either swallow it or spit it into your daughter’s mouth,” he directed my mom.

She dutifully lapped up the cum on my face, leaving the surface glistening with her saliva while swallowing it all. “Thanks, mom,” I thought. She should have spit it into my mouth. I sure deserved it. The judge pointed to my cum-covered nipple as he pulled up his pants. Mom bent over taking my nipple into her mouth and I released a guttural moan as I shuddered and my pussy tingled. That felt good, even if it was my mother. God, I hoped nobody noticed the smell of my arousal.

“I think our first MILF daughter pair of sluts will be popular for their atonement sessions. Get them out of my chambers and cleaned up for their first session this afternoon,” the judge directed the bailiff as he led us out of the judge’s chambers.

[Mr. Smith]

The Amelia and Avery characters were introduced in "Allison's Descent into Slavery Part Four". In the sequence events in this story the portion describing Amelia stripping in the courtroom takes place two days after Allison's enslavement at the Big D and her arrival at Broadstone. My apolgies for not clarifying the timing. I was suffering from writers block on the Allison story and in some email exchanges with Carl Bradford I decided to take a detour with his encouragement and start Avery's story while creating some new characters along the way. Thanks again to Carl for proof reading my work.