Mummy and Me Ch. 02

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This little series seems popular, judging by the response, so here goes with the continued saga of Tanya and her sexy mother.

My mother had suggested that she could be more inventive still, after she had excited me beyond belief, when she whipped me. I had never thought of myself as being a submissive — I think that’s the term, isn’t it? — but the agony I had experienced when she was flogging my naked back had somehow transmuted into a tremendous, intense pleasure, that was what people call, I think, a life-changing experience. As if finding out I was a Lesbian and entering into a passionate relationship with my own mother were not enough!

The day after my whipping, my mother and I breakfasted quietly — not a word of the previous night’s activities was spoken. But she phoned me at work: ‘Are you alright, darling?’

‘Yes, thanks, Jan, are you?’ There was a long pause.

‘Shall we meet for lunch?’

‘Why not?’ We agreed on the winebar around the corner from the office where I worked. When I arrived, my mother was already in a corner booth, a bottle of Shiraz open in front of her.

‘I…I thought perhaps I overdid it last night?’ she said — a query.

‘Oh no,’ I said, ‘After all, I asked you to do it.’

‘Yes, you did, didn’t you.’

‘So,’ I asked, ‘What comes next? Or is that all there is?’

She put her hand on mine on top of the table. ‘There are many more things we can do, darling,’ she said, her voice low and almost seductive, ‘You actually seem to enjoy walking around with your plug in, don’t you?’

‘Why, yes, it reminds me of….of…..I don’t know… just feels sexy.’ I finished lamely.

‘There are, of course, other things I can have you wear.’

‘Such as?’

‘Restraint clothing,’ she said, ‘It actually turns me on to wear very tight skirts, and maybe we could try you with a corset? That’s just one idea, but I have others, of course.’ She laughed.

When I got home that night, there were two packages waiting for me. One was a small box, neatly wrapped.

‘Open that one first — it’s for tomorrow,’ said my mother.

I fumbled with the wrapping and took out a nice jewellery box. Nestling inside were a pair of items I at first thought were gold clip-on ear-rings, but when I took them out and saw the tightening screws and plates, I realised what they were.

‘They’re nipple-clamps!’ I said, ‘But they must hurt terribly.’

‘Let’s see, shall we, darling, slip your blouse off.’

My mother bent then and immediately started to suck my nipples, biting gently in the way she knew I couldn’t resist, as the hardened and grew. Then she took the gold clips and screwed them down mercilessly, making me yelp with pain as they pinched my sensitive nipples unbearably. There was a fine gold chain to connect them, and when I looked at my image in the mirror, I thought they looked charming.

‘You know,’ I said, when the initial pain had subsided a little, ‘I had wondered about having my nipples pierced.’

‘Yes, darling, that would be lovely,’ agreed my mother, ‘But first get used to wearing clamps and when we get you pierced I’ll have my clit done at the same time.’

‘What,’ I asked, ‘is in the other parcel?’

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘That’s for when your back is fully healed. It’s a corset.’

‘But I’ve got a narrow waist already,’ I protested.

‘Yes, darling,’ she said, pityingly, ‘But this is going to really restrain you. A very tight-waist corset is extremely sexy, trust me.’

‘I’m going to be in agony all day, with my arse, my nipples and now my waist – all tortured.’

‘Yes, darling,’ she said sweetly, ‘And it will remind you of ……..of……well, you’ll see.’

But when we went to bed that night, slipping between my mother’s satin sheets, she in her fur-trimmed baby doll nightie, me in a short white silk slip, we fell comfortably into each other’s arms. There was intense pain for a brief moment when my mother released the nipple-clamps, and the blood ran back into the starved extremities of my firm tits, but my mother’s mouth was soon working its magic there.

‘Oh Jan!’ I said, ‘That’s wonderful!’

Her tongue coursed down across my flat belly, and my hands stroked her soft, silky hair, as her knowing mouth found the pendant dangling from my super-sensitive clitoris, then her tongue was tracing the rim of my outer labia, and she suddenly used both hands to spread my pussy wide apart, then plunge her tongue deep into the hot wet pinkness of my eager cunt.

‘Oh Jan, I love you more than life itself!’ I murmured, and the feeling intensified, if that were possible, when she pulled out my butt-plug, and replaced its coldness with her warm, questing fingers, bringing me to the very brink of orgasm, then pulling out, teasing me, until I felt her fingers being replaced by a toy she had recently bought, a glass dildo which was really a column of spheres, gradually increasing in size as she pushed it into my eager, impatient velvet tube. It was a wonderful sensation, and I writhed and bucked as my casino siteleri climax approached — then was there, in one tremendous, gushing, unbelievable moment.

For next few days, I wore the nipple clamps, and they certainly reminded me of my status. But what was, in fact, my status? Was I my mother’s lover? Or her slave? I wondered, but whichever, I was happier than I had ever been in my life — of that I was quite certain.

Then when we went to bed one night, my mother wanted to look at my back. I lifted the hem of my short silk slip, which was all I wore in bed.

‘Hmmm,’ she mused, ‘I think I’ll put you in the corset tomorrow.’

When I woke up, I reached over for my mother — she wasn’t there, and I was half asleep. I looked at the clock. Seven o’clock.

‘Jan!’ I called out, ‘What’s up? Is the house on fire?’ She didn’t usually stir until half past seven.

‘No darling,’ she laughed, from the bathroom, ‘Come and have a shower, and after breakfast I’ll put you into your corset. I thought we’d need a little more time.’

I crept out of bed and obediently got under the shower, then slipped on a robe and went down to take a grateful coffee.

My mother then took me by the hand and led me back upstairs, where she produced the package containing the corset, still unopened, with a flourish. She unwrapped it.

‘It’s white!’ I said, somehow thinking all corsets ought to be black.

‘Yes, darling, I thought you may just want to wear something white over it.’

She handed it to me. It felt very rigid, like a bundle of sticks surrounded by satin.

My mother offered it up to my midriff, and even before she buttoned it up the front it felt very, very tight. When she did this, my waist was pinched in sharply. I asked her how she had calculated my size.

‘My dear, I know your body, I think, don’t you?’

I looked at myself in the mirror, and saw a new me, with an hourglass figure, the whaleboned white satin garmnt leaving my breasts free, as well as my belly, framed by the long satin garter straps.

‘You want me to wear stockings?’

‘That would be nice, I think.’

As she spoke she was behind me, and what she did caused me to gasp loudly.

‘Christ, Jan, what are you doing?’

‘Darling, I’m tightening you in. You didn’t think that was it, did you?’

‘Oh Jesus, I don’t think I can bear it, please!’

The pain was dreadful as the cruel corset constrained me terribly, and I didn’t know how I should ever get through a day of this.

‘But just look at youself in the mirror now, my love,’ my mother, ‘I just don’t know how to keep my hands off you.’

I kissed her then, fondling her lovely breasts, and letting my tongue stud graze across her even white teeth, but she pulled away

‘Come on, or we’ll never get to work,’ she said.

I put on a pleated blue cotton skirt and silk blouse, then busied myself with the unfamiliar task of rolling on a pair of dark stockings, clasping them to the garter-straps. When I stepped into my black patent stilettos, and looked in the mirror, I saw a very narrow-waisted image looking back at me. The effect of the corset was obvious, and I couldn’t help wondering if my colleagues in the office would notice. When I experimented, walking up and down, sitting and bending, I was in considerable pain, though, my body feeling as if it were being strangled by the awful garment.

When my mother had dressed for work, I had another surprise. She wore a skirt I had never seen before — it was black, knee-length satin, so tight around the hem she could scarcely walk, and a band of less shiny material about four inches wide was fastened there with a big silver buckle, so the hem couldn’t be torn.

I smiled. ‘So you are restrained too?’ I said.

‘I find it exciting, darling — you get a lot of looks too.’

‘From men, I suppose?’

‘You’d be surprised, my love.’

We went to our respective offices like that for three days, and each evening our lovemaking was more amazing than ever, my mother taking delight in licking me to a squirming, writhing orgasm whilst I was still in my corset and stockings, then, when I was unlaced, the relief was tangible, and I brought Jan off in the way I knew she most loved, fingering first her warm, pink pussy, then the inviting cavern of her sweet anus.

Just when I had started to get used to the idea of restraint, and find myself being constantly aroused by it, my mother said one evening, ‘Shall we give corsets and tight skirts a rest for a while? I do so like to ring the changes.’

So I went to work next day in a silky pleated, beltless dress, mid-thigh length, naked, of course, underneath. A sudden gust of wind would have revealed at least my dangling clit decoration. I felt sexier than ever, and a surprise awaited me when I got home. Although my mother wasn’t really promiscuous, I knew that our relationship wasn’t completely exclusive, but it was still unexpected when I walked into the house and saw two large suitcases in the hall, then, in the slot oyna lounge, found a stranger sitting there.

She rose from her chair as I entered.

‘Tanya,meet Xu-li,’ said my mother, as the girl took a step towards me. She was, of course, Asian, tall and very slim, with jet-black hair even longer than mine, lovely almond eyes set in a pretty face, with eyelashes to die for. They didn’t look false, either.

She was wearing a tight little white minidress, revealing long, slender legs, perched on high silver heels.

I looked a question at my mother, who explained. ‘Xu-li has come to work with me, and has nowhere to live, so I suggested she may like to live with us for a time.’

‘I am so very grateful to you, Miss Jan,’ she said, in slightly accented English.

‘I know, my dear, and after dinner, perhaps you’ll get a chance to show your gratitude.’ So saying, my mother stroked Xu-li’s long, silken mane of hair, and let her hand linger on the girl’s barely-covered rump for just long enough that her desire was clear. Xu-li, for her part, showed no sign of embarrassment, smiling at both of us before saying, ‘Well, I’ll go and unpack then. What time would you like to eat, Miss Jan?’

‘Can you have something ready for us by eight, do you think?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said, and her heels clicked off as she went to collect her two suitcases.

‘What do you think?’ asked my mother, when we were alone.

‘She’s lovely,’ I said.

‘I’m glad you think so, darling. I think we’re going to enjoy her.’

‘But, is she our maid, or what?’

‘More “what,” I suppose,’ laughed my mother.

‘Oh, Jan, you’re incorrigible.’ I joined in with her laughter.

We laughed as we changed for dinner. ‘Anybody would think we were in a high class country house,’ my mother said, but neither of us liked wearing the same clothes all evening that we’d had on all day, so I put on a long, semi-transparent pale blue silky gown, all loose folds down to the waist, trailing on the floor as I walked, whilst my mother wore a white backless halter-neck creation I’d never seen before.

We sat at the table, and Xu-li appeared with steaming plates, right on cue. She had changed into a black silk flared minidress so short that I could see the lacy tops of her black stockings, and an inch of creamy flesh above them — and that was before she bent over the table, when her shaven pussy was revealed quite clearly. She looked knowingly over her shoulder at me after she had placed the dishes, practically inviting me to touch her. I didn’t. As she turned to go back to the kitchen, she glanced back at me over her shoulder and pouted.

My mother looked at me. ‘I think we shall have to punish her, don’t you?’

‘Let’s not frighten her off,’ I said, ‘she’s rather pretty.’

‘Tomorrow, then.’

‘What do you suggest?’ I really didn’t know..

‘Oh, I think we should tie her up and cane her, don’t you?’

‘I think we ought to tell her first, Jan — she may not like the idea at all.’

‘Oh, I think she will.’

When S

Xu-li came back to clear the table, my mother said to her, ‘I’ve decided you should be punished, my dear, you won’t mind, will you?’

‘Punished, Miss Jan?’

‘Yes, my dear, punished. I think I shall cane you tomorrow.’

‘Yes, Miss Jan,’ she said, and actually gave a delicate little curtsey, holding the hem of her tiny skirt in each slender hand. And she looked at each of us in turn as she cleared the table.

When she had left the room, I said, ‘Shall we let her sleep with us tonight, Jan?’

‘You dirty bitch,’ she said, ‘But then, you are my daughter. Why not?’

And when Xu-li was invited to sleep in our bed that night, she showed no more emotion than when told she was to be punished.

Mum and me were already between her satin sheets, she in her white, fur-trimmed baby-doll, me in my blue silk slip, when a hesitant knock sounded at the door and in stepped Xu-li, in a long maroon silky nightie, her hair in a loose cascade down past her waist.

‘Let’s have a look at you then,’ said my mother, as we both turned towards her. She understood, but seemed shy as she slid off her spaghetti shoulder-straps. I saw why — she was almost completely without breasts, practically pre-pubescent, so that I said, ‘Just how old are you, Xu-li?’

‘I am twenty-three,’ she said, her eyes downcast, ‘I never have had titties. Perhaps you don’t want me now?’

I looked at her slim form, with her small, rounded buttocks, and the flat stomach, with a deeply-cut, clean-shaven crack. I held my arms out to her. ‘I think you are perfectly lovely, Xu-li.’

‘I have no titties, but my nipples grow hard, like…like….nuts, when you touch.’ To demonstrate, she kneaded them herself, and they visibly grew, hard, dark knobs on dark aureola, but practically flat. I took her slender wrist and pulled her towards us on the huge bed, a slim, bony contrast to my mother’s silky smooth curves. But there was a contrast to Xu-li, as I soon found. Her boyish body may have canlı casino siteleri been slim and almost hard, her ribs defined as she climbed over between us, but when she spread her long, slender legs, and deliberately opened her labia with two fingers of one hand, her moist, pink cunt was revealed, warm and inviting when I explored it with my fingers, just asking for the tonguing she was about to receive, as my mother’s head plunged between the Chinese girl’s thighs.

‘Oh, Miss Jan!’ she cried, ‘Yes, YES!’ and writhed as I tried out her statement about her nipples, and found that they did, indeed, grow hard and sharp as I bit them, causing Xu-li to squirm still more. It also reminded me that I was soon to have my own nipples pierced, and couldn’t help wondering just how terrible the pain would be. But just now there was a more than pleasant distraction, as I felt Xu-li’s long fingers find first my clit-ring, give a little, playful tug, then she was masturbating me as if I were doing it myself, with perfect rhythm. I was close to cumming, and just found time to share the moment with my darling mother, thrusting three fingers deep into the velvet tunnel of her peristaltic anus. I seemed impossible, but I swear that we all came at once, and lay together in a sweating, satisfied tangle, then slept, dragging satin sheets over us, until morning light.

Next evening, Xu-li showed no sign of nervousness, even though she knew, as she served dinner, what was to come.

‘Clear the table, my dear,’ said my mother, and we waited patiently while she did so, then my mother fetched four lengths of rope she had prepared from the bedroom.

‘Undress, and lay across the table!” she told the Asian girl, then, ‘No, you can leave your stockings and shoes on.’

The girl lay face down over the table and I tied her ankles to the bottoms of the legs at one end’ while my mother tied her wrists to the tops of the legs at the other. So spreead, she offered, I thought, a lovely vision, her pink pussy open and moist, her long black hair trailing across the table-top.

My mother produced a thin bamboo cane.

‘I’m going to hurt you,’ she said, and I remembered her using the same words to me when she had whipped me. ‘How many strokes can you take?’

‘As many as you wish to give me, Miss Jan,’ replied Xu-li.

‘We’ll see,’ said my mother, and drew back her arm, delivering a vicious stroke which raised an instant red welt, but drew only a faint gasp from the Chinese girl’s lips. I was amazed by Xu-li’s resistance to pain, as she squirmed in her bonds, and moaned gently as each cruel stroke striped her buttocks and upper thighs.

After perhaps twenty strokes, my mother put the cane down on the table, and said to me, ‘Bring the girl off, Tanya, darling, she’s ready!’

I took from my mother the glass dildo she was holding out to me, and thrust it straight into the Chinese girl’s soaking vagina, causing her to scream loudly, and shudder violently, as a massive orgasm flooded her, and her fluids squirted copiously over me.

‘Jesus,’ I said, ‘ She is something, isn’t she?’

‘I had a feeling we were going to enjoy Xu-li,’ said my mother, as she untied her.

Next day my mother and I had arranged a day off for our piercing. I was terrified as we went to the same place where I had had my tongue and clit done. The girl who met us there, though, was new, a younger woman, chubby but attractive, wearing a pristine lab coat. She waved us into the inner room.

Mum first. We’d already decided that her clit was too small to take a ring, like mine — she was going to have a ‘hood job.’ So she wasn’t half as nervous as I was, and, in no time at all, with, she assured me, very little pain, she was the proud possessor of quite a large silver ring, which would hang nicely from her clitoris-hood.

But then — oh shit! — it was my turn, and I took my place in the dreaded chair, and slid down the elasticated neckline of the peasant blouse I had worn for the occasion, revealing the rather perky breasts of which I was quite proud.

‘Are you sure you can’t give me any anaesthetic?’ I asked the girl.

‘Quite sure,’ she said, ‘I need to tease your nipples to erection so that I can pierce them.’

We chose — or rather my mother chose — gold bars with a hanging semi-circular loop, then the girl told me to relax. Fat chance of that, I thought!

At least I wasn’t kept waiting. The girl — I never asked her name — took hold of a nipple, quite gently. My nipples have always responded instantly, growing long and taut. Then, without warning, I felt a bolt of excruciating, sharp pain, worse, I thought, than anything I had ever felt, as she pierced the sensitive nub, leaving the long needle in place, then deftly replacing it with the gold bar I was to wear. The second nipple, if anything, was even worse, and I almost blacked out for the brief instant it took, but then she was smilingly showing me my newly-decorated breasts, the little gold chains hanging from the bars that now penetratated my nipples.

‘You must take care of them,’ said the girl, handing me some antiseptic solution, ‘And I’d recommend that you keep them in place all the time — unless, of course, you replace them with rings or something. But stick to gold, I would.’

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