Yes, Mrs. Kort

Dana shivered.

She was standing in her bedroom.

Wearing panties only.

Erika.

Fully dressed.

Was pressed up against Dana’s back.

Her fingers moving.

Over Dana’s body.

Inducing.

Shivers.

Dana gasped.

As Erika’s teeth.

Bit and tugged an earlobe.

Erika’s fingertips brushed Dana nipples.

And Erika said …

“I’ve wanted to turn you out for so long.”

Dana shivered.

The fingertips stopped brushing Dana’s nipples.

And began to pinch.

Dana let out a long shuddering breath.

“I would look at you during faculty meeting,” Erika said.

“Look at you and know you would be mine one day.”

Erika’s hands travelled down.

Down Dana’s body.

Over her belly.

Into her panties.

One finger entered …

One very wet pussy.

Dana shivered.

Erika’s tongue …

Licked the back of Dana’s neck.

Dana shivered.

Dana flooded.

“I’ll have to shave this,” Erika said.

“Shave it, spank it and lick it. Until you lose your mind.”

Dana shivered.

Erika’s fingernails.

Cut into Dana’s panties.

The lacy silk was ripped apart.

“Straight women,” Erika said.

“Make the best lesbian slaves.”

Dana shivered.

She had that look.

That I always enjoyed.

Naked.

On her knees.

Wrists cuffed behind her back.

And …

Of course …

A ball gag.

Tightly secured.

Women.

All women.

Look radiant.

Like that.

She’s about …

To be used.

Used hard.

Used cruelly.

And she knows it.

Her eyes …

Shimmer.

She is teared up.

But not crying.

Not crying yet.

Later?

A lot.

But right now.

Her eyes shimmer.

Her whole body.

Shimmers.

In a beautiful glow.

She …

Is the most.

Exquisite.

Thing.

A woman.

In surrender.

Waiting.

Willing.

Wanting.

To be used.

“Hello.”

“Remove the panties.”

“Mistress Hjertstedt. Yes, Mistress Hjertstedt.”

Astrid stood.

Even though the mistress had not told her to …

She walked over and locked her office door.

She took off her panties.

Sat back at her desk.

Spoke into her cell.

“Mistress Hjertstedt. The panties are off, Mistress Hjertstedt.”

“Look at the cunt.”

“Mistress Hjertstedt. Yes, Mistress Hjertstedt.”

Astrid spread her legs and looked down at her pussy.

“The whip tonight? Or the cane?”

Astrid trembled.

The whip was merely awful.

The cane …

Was brutal.

But the cane.

Always.

Made her cum.

Hard.

Astrid ran a finger over her pussy.

She needed.

To cum.

Hard.

Tonight.

“Mistress Hjertstedt. I think the cane. The cane tonight, Mistress Hjertstedt. Please.”

“Are you touching the cunt?”

“Mistress Hjertstedt. Yes, Mistress Hjertstedt.”

Mistress Hjertstedt had a vise.

A small vise.

With a screw.

Specially made.

For clits.

“I’m touching it. I’m making it wet, Mistress Hjertstedt. I’m fingering my fucking cunt and making it wet.”

“You are a wanton young lady. You will pay for that.”

Astrid sighed.

The cane.

Made her cum.

Hard.

The cane.

Along with the vise.

Made her …

Insane.

She wanted.

Needed.

To be.

Insane.

Tonight.

“Mistress Hjertstedt. Yes, Mistress Hjertstedt.”

I love.

The purity.

Of …

Anal sex.

Between women.

It’s about.

Power.

It’s about.

Nothing.

But power.

You put your tongue up her ass.

You put it deep up her ass.

Right now.

Not because you want to.

After all …

It’s not a pussy.

But you get that tongue.

In that asshole.

And you lick.

Until she says stop.

Until hours later …

When she says stop.

Because.

You fear her.

You don’t want.

To be.

An ass-licking whore.

But better that.

Than saying no.

Because you understand …

The consequences.

Of that.

She’s strong.

You’re weak.

She’s mean.

You’re meek.

So you force.

Your tongue.

Into her asshole.

And you lick it.

Lick it.

Lick it.

You lick her asshole.

You ass-licking whore.

Or you get hurt.

You pathetic whimpering bitch.

You useless piece of shit.

Lick that asshole.

That’s all.

You’re good for.

“Punish?”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

“Whose pussy is that?”

“What do you mean by punish?”

“Whose pussy is that?”

“It’s your pussy.”

“It’s wet.”

“I know. Whenever you kiss me …”

“Did I say it could be wet?”

“God, Leah. How do you expect me to control that?”

“Did I say it could be wet?”

“Well, no. But …”

“Whose pussy is that?”

“It’s your pussy.”

“And it gets wet when I say it gets wet. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Only when I say it gets wet.”

“OK.”

“Or it gets punished.”

“Oh god. Are you really serious about that?”

“Yes.”

“But how do you … punish … punish a pussy?”

“You’re about to find out.”

“Oh, Leah. Please don’t.”

“I have to.”

“Why.”

“To help you learn.”

“What … what will you do.”

“It involves clothes pins. And a belt.”

“No. Oh no.”

“Yes. For a couple of hours.”

“Oh god. Leah. Please. Please don’t.”

“You need to learn. That’s my pussy. You need to learn.”

Debi was fucking.

Her mother Ellen.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

With the strap-on.

Sliding fully in.

And nearly out.

With each stroke.

Ellen …

On her hands and knees …

Kept pleading.

“Fuck me harder, baby. Fuck mother hard.”

But Debi.

Stayed slow and steady.

Because I controlled the girl.

With my riding crop.

I whipped Debi’s ass.

Each time.

She strayed from the pace.

That I wanted …

Her mother to endure.

Ellen whimpered.

“Harder, baby. Fuck me harder!”

But Debi …

Obeyed me.

And my crop.

Slow and steady.

Keeping her mother …

In the realm of pleasure.

But outside the city gates.

About an hour and a half in …

Ursula’s sobs …

Shook her body.

Shook my bed.

Where she knelt on hands and knees.

She gathered enough breath …

To beg for mercy.

Again.

But I continued.

To slap.

Slap.

Slap.

Her pussy.

I always do this to a mother.

A few days after the first time …

She licks and fucks.

Her daughter.

(Go here to read my technique for properly spanking a pussy.)

Ursula struggled with it.

Like all the mothers did.

But eventually …

Her sobs.

Ebbed.

And in a quiet voice, she said …

“Thank you, Mrs. Kort.”

And then …

“My pussy’s bad, isn’t it Mrs. Kort?”

“Yes,” I said.

“It deserves this. I deserve this.”

“Yes.”

“What I’m doing with my daughter. It’s wrong. So wrong.”

“Yes.”

“But I can’t … I don’t want … to stop.”

“You’re a whore and a slut, Ursula.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

Slap.

Slap.

Slap.

“My pussy is so bad, Mrs. Kort.”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kort.”

She raised her head.

A deep moan of pain and self-loathing.

Rang through my bedroom.

Then quietly …

“Thank you, Mrs. Kort.”

“Finger her asshole.”

Molly removed her tongue.

From her mother Jodi’s pussy.

And said …

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

She wet a finger in her mother’s very wet pussy.

And rode it into Jodi’s ass.

Jodi hissed.

And rolled her head on the back of my sofa.

With her other hand …

Molly parted her mother’s pussy lips.

Bent toward the clit.

“Bite it.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

Jodi gasped.

And pounded her head on the back of my sofa.

“Fuck that ass.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Two fingers.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Did I tell you to stop biting that clit?”

“No, Mrs. Kort.”

“Do you want to be punished? Or do you want to obey?”

“Obey, Mrs. Kort.”

“Show me.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

Jodi pulled her hair.

Moaned.

Ever louder.

As her young daughter …

Stabbed her ass.

Nibbled her clit.

Suddenly …

Her eyes popped open.

She jerked her head …

To look toward me.

Her voice.

Was desperate.

“May I please cum, Mrs. Kort?”

I smiled.

This.

Was when.

It really got fun.

READ THE OTHER PARTS HERE

As I recovered from the whipping she gave my tits …

Tiffany the whore sat on the hotel room sofa.

And opened the champagne she had told me to ordered from room service.

After she popped the cork.

She poured it all into the ice bucket.

She looked over at me.

Into my puzzled eyes.

And said …

“It’s the bottle I wanted, bitch. Not the bubbly.”

A cold fear …

Ran through body.

A warm trickle …

Ran down my thigh.

She stood.

Grabbed me by my hair.

Dragged me crawling into the bedroom.

***

I lay on the bed.

My heart racing.

I had begged her.

To oil me up first.

Just a little even.

I’m not so wet down there these days.

She laughed at that.

I spread as wide as I could.

Tried to relax.

I felt the still-chilled neck enter.

I shivered.

More …

Of the bottle.

Entered me.

Spread me.

She slapped me when I started to cry.

She told me …

To bend my knees.

To grasp the bottle.

She told me …

To masturbate.

She told me …

I was required.

To cum.

You gasp.

As the first clamp.

Bites into the tender lip.

Of your pussy.

Another clamp.

On the other lip.

She cradles your face.

In a soft hand.

Kisses you.

And whispers …

“Whose pussy is this?”

You breathe deeply and say …

“That’s your pussy.”

She nods.

And holds up another clamp.

Right in front of your eyes.

This one is different.

It has a screw.

She says …

“My pussy. My clit.”

She smiles.

You whimper.

Ashamed …

You beg.

She likes that.

Listens …

As you beg.

And beg.

Finally …

She puts a finger to your lips.

“Hush hush …”

She says.

And …

“Whose pussy is this?”

As her fingers spread your clit open.

You sob.

She asks again.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You choke back your tears.

“That’s your pussy.”

It goes on.

It tightens.

And tightens.

Her tongue is deep in your mouth now.

All your screams …

Silenced.

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

It’s awkward to strip from your knees.

But I managed.

Tiffany was sitting on the sofa.

She ordered me to crawl over.

In my black garter belt, stockings and heels, I did.

“Stop,” she said when I was a few feet away from her.

And then …

“Back straight. Knees spread. Reach behind and grasp your ankles. Chin up.”

I obeyed it all.

She leaned forward.

The menace in her emerald eyes burned away any fight or courage I had left.

She said …

“Now let’s talk about those saggy, pathetic tits of yours.”

And we did.

For a long time.

***

She told me they were ugly.

Disgusting.

She made me apologize.

For her having to look at them.

She made me describe how they once were.

So many years ago.

Firm. Upturned. Sexy and desirable.

And she made me admit.

That was no longer the case.

She asked me …

If I agreed …

That they were so hideous.

So repulsive.

That they deserved harsh punishment.

And …

Sobbing now …

I did.

She walked over to where my panties lay.

Picked them up. Put them in my mouth.

Out of her large handbag, she took out a short-handled whip.

That split into three braided ends.

She whipped …

My grotesque breasts.

And made me thank her for it.

My longest relationship with a mother and daughter was with Kathy and Tiffany. Tiffi and I remained close as she turned from girl to sexually fierce woman — a tall, athletic, super-confident redhead. She chose to become a whore. A very empowered, specialized whore. One who dominated older woman for a high price. She’s done very well.

You can read other stories about Tiffi here.

Kathy’s fate was very different. You can read about her here.

Tiffany.

The whore.

Was stunning.

Everything I dreamed of.

And paid for.

Young. Red hair. Hard green eyes.

With the sleeveless dress she wore …

I could see her strength.

See her cut biceps.

And it didn’t take long to feel that strength.

Because as soon as I shut the hotel room door behind her …

She shoved me against it.

Wrapped steel-like fingers around my throat.

And growled.

“I’m going to fuck you and fuck you up. And you will obey me, bitch.”

I couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t breathe.

I nodded.

Her other hand reached under my skirt.

I felt her fingers tug one of the straps of the garter belt I had bought for this special night.

She snorted.

“You old cunts are all the same.”

Her hand moved from my throat.

To the back of my neck.

She forced me to my knees.

So strong.

So very strong.

I was wet already.

She told me to strip.

While on my knees.

“You can leave your stupid fuck lingerie on,” she said.

I was grateful for that.

Like I said …

I had bought them just for tonight.

And they made me feel sexy.

After all.

I’m 58 years old.

I need what I can get.

It disturbs me.

How warm.

How red.

My daughter’s ass.

Gets.

As I spank it.

Ordered.

To spank it.

By Mrs. Kort.

The way …

My daughter squirms.

Disturbs me.

The way she now …

Gasps.

For each breath.

Occasionally sobbing.

Disturbs me.

But.

I will not stop.

No.

Mrs. Kort punishes.

When you don’t obey.

And she.

Is quite disturbing.

Ever warmer.

Ever redder.

I can feel the heat.

Rising.

From my daughter’s ass.

Very disturbing.

Yes.

But.

More so.

Is how …

Wet.

How very wet.

My daughter’s pussy.

Gets.

As I spank her.

It disturbs me.

That I make.

My own daughter.

So wet.

And to show you.

How disturbed.

I really am.

This all.

Makes me.

Wet.

So wet.

So very fucking wet.

My daughter’s warm ass.

My daughter’s wet pussy.

I hope Mrs. Kort.

Let’s me eat both.

I’m very disturbed.

As you can see.

Dollie is …

Careful.

She has to be.

Has to be …

Very careful.

Weeks ago.

Just months after starting college.

Dollie was turned out by a grad student.

The sex …

Thrills her.

The way she is controlled and dominated.

Warms her to the core.

But …

She has to be careful.

Because when going to her classes.

She can only wear skirts.

Short skirts.

Very short skirts.

And she can’t …

Ever …

Wear panties.

So Dollie is careful.

About …

How she walks.

Where she walks.

How she sits.

Where she sits.

Dollie is always aware.

Of how the wind is blowing across the campus.

It’s kind of a pain.

But …

In the evening.

That’s all forgotten.

As she lays.

Across the grad student’s lap.

Receives her nightly spanking.

A rough-gentle-rough-gentle-quickening-rough-gentle-rough-explosive fingering.

All the carefulness forgotten.

Losing herself.

Tongue-deep.

In her lover’s moist box.

I tell them.

Mother and daughter.

That my pussy.

Needs attention.

They know.

Mother and daughter.

What to do.

Because I have invested time and effort.

Into training.

The daughter …

Bends over.

Places her palms on the coffee table.

Spreads her legs.

The mother …

Pulls down her crotchless panties.

Bends over.

Places her palms on the coffee table.

Spreads her legs.

They wear butt plugs.

Mother and daughter.

When they go down.

On me.

The mothers.

Always.

The daughters.

Always.

Wear butt plugs.

When they go down.

On me.

A sign.

Of my status.

Acknowledging.

That my pussy.

Is superior.

I place the plugs.

Sit in my chair.

And spread.

They kneel.

Confront the most important thing in their world.

And serve.