Reaching down between my legs, she took my penis and raised it to lay upwards. Mom held me until she settled herself in around me, wiggling a little bit. She relaxed her lower weight. She felt warm and comfortable, and…a little slippery.Mom’s breasts and slip were bumping and laying around my face as she supported her top half with her hands. “Mom, what are we doing?” I asked through the slip.“What do you mean?” (In retrospect, I think I caught her by surprise and she needed time to come up with something.)“What do they call this what we’re doing?”“They don’t call this anything, Honey. It’s like when we’re playing…sometimes what we do doesn’t have a name.”“Okay.”Mom lowered her top to her elbows and reached around with her hands to pull her slip up to her neck. The sensation of the slip sliding across my face as her breasts pushed on it was different enough for me to remember distinctly. Mom’s breasts were now bare on my face, and Mom moved her shoulders so only her left nipple came. This had straps that ran across my nose and over my head, as well as around the sides of my head, and a D-ring on top of my head. I tied a climber's hitch in one of the ropes from the ceiling and attached it to the ring on top of my head. I did the same with the other rope from the ceiling, but attached it to the steel ring with my handcuffs. I then tied a short rope to the D-ring at the front of my collar. Last, I tied my knees together with a loose figure eight of rope, cinching it many times to create a thick cord between my knees. I wrapped the rope from my collar around this cord, tied a square knot, then continued the rope to a screw eye in the plywood.This rope caused me to lean forward slightly, bending at the knees and waist. This projected my ass towards the spanking machine. I reached behind me to where the enema hose dangled, and grabbed it. I raised the hem of my dress, slid the nozzle past my panties and home in my ass, and then lowered the dress again. The hose held it.
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