Yes, Mrs. Kort

In a few minutes.

I will shave.

My daughter’s pussy.

I shave my daughter’s pussy.

Every morning.

Because Mrs. Kort.

Requires me to.

I also eat my daughter’s pussy.

When Mrs. Kort.

Allows me to.

Mrs. Kort …

Owns.

My daughter’s pussy.

I’m rewarded.

When I take proper care.

Of Mrs. Kort property.

I’m punished.

When I don’t.

Later this afternoon …

I will trim my own pussy.

It also …

Belongs to Mrs. Kort.

I trim it.

In a very specific way.

Specified …

By Mrs. Kort.

Enforced …

By Mrs. Kort.

When I groom Mrs. Kort’s property.

In the proper way.

It is licked.

By my daughter.

If I don’t.

If I leave too much hair.

Or too little.

Or get the shaping wrong.

It is whipped.

By Mrs. Kort.

Excuse me.

There’s my daughter now.

I have to tend.

Mrs. Kort’s property.

Now.

It scares me.

It scares me every time.

Wrists cuffed behind my back.

Kneeling …

In front …

Of a Tall Redhead.

I tremble.

As she parts her knees.

It’s a privilege.

For a girl like me.

To lick.

A Tall Redhead.

To service.

Such …

A superior pussy.

But failure.

Is inevitable.

A Tall Redhead.

Is used to the best.

Demands the best.

I’m good.

I’m not the best.

So …

When it’s over.

When I’ve tried …

My best.

And failed.

She will stand.

Tell me to stand.

I will apologize.

She will slap me.

Then …

She’ll grab one of my nipples.

Twist it.

And use it.

To lead me to her bedroom.

Or whatever room.

She punishes in.

.
.
(continued below)

First …

A butt plug.

A very large butt plug.

She shoves it in.

Dry.

I’m told …

To lie on the bed.

On my back.

On my cuffed wrists.

Told to bend my knees.

Spread.

She sits on the edge of the bed.

She has a cane.

A short cane.

Thin.

With a metal tip.

The Tall Redhead.

Tells me.

Warns me.

If she has to gag me.

My punishment.

Will be worse.

Unimaginably so.

Then …

She starts.

The metal tip.

Of the cane.

On my clit.

For two hours.

A Tall Redhead.

Is at her best.

At times like these.

Reminding you.

That your fear.

Is well justified.

That your best.

Is never enough.

You do her.

A favor.

When you whip.

Her pussy.

She craves your strength.

Needs it.

Because she lacks it.

Within herself.

To force her.

With your voice alone.

To spread her legs.

While you hold a whip.

Comforts her.

In a deep place it comforts her.

Her hands …

On her thighs.

Tremble.

She starts to cry.

Even before you begin.

She wants to cry.

Needs to cry.

That’s why she holding her legs apart.

She wants you to hurt it.

Whip it.

Without mercy.

Turn her palace of pleasure.

Into a precinct of pain.

Whip her wet.

And when she’s wet.

Fist fuck.

That shattered slit.

She’ll thank you.

She’ll get on her knees.

Lick your feet.

And thank you.

If that’s what you want.

She’ll do anything.

You want.

Because she wants.

You strong.

Needs you strong.

So she.

Can be.

Weak.

Raptured.

Damned.

My paradise.

My hell.

My daughter’s …

Pussy.

Anything.

Everything.

All that …

Mrs. Kort …

Says.

Requires.

I will do.

I’ll beg.

I’ll spread …

For her crop.

Anything.

Everything.

So that …

One night a week.

Sometimes two.

My lips.

My tongue.

My daughter’s …

Pussy.

Raptured.

Damned.

Overwhelmed …

With need.

Desire.

My heart.

Racing.

My tongue.

Descending.

My soul.

Descending.

I pulled her panties off.

She made a sound.

One I can’t describe.

One made only …

By a woman.

Having her panties pulled off.

For the first time.

By another woman.

I tossed them on the floor.

She spread for me.

Nervously.

But very …

Eagerly.

I went down on her.

Down on her …

Like I had gone down on her daughter.

So many times.

I licked.

It didn’t take long.

For her to cum.

An experienced lesbian tongue.

On a long-neglected straight pussy.

No.

It didn’t take long.

Not long at all.

The rest of the night.

Lasted a while.

In my bed.

Where she tasted pussy.

For the first time.

Where I spanked her.

And made her cum.

Again.

And again.

A long night.

A successful night.

We had many nights like it.

For about two weeks.

Until the night.

I told her.

What I required.

Required her to do.

With.

Her daughter.

She cried.

A long time.

A long long long long time.

She cried …

And said …

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

Does it seem like …

Forever?

Or.

Immeasurably …

Fearfully …

Sudden?

The first time.

I make a mother.

Lick her daughter’s pussy.

The daughter stands in the middle of my living room.

Wearing panties only.

The mother.

In her cupless bra, crotchless panties, stockings and heels.

Walks over.

Kneels before her daughter.

The mother.

Has to remove her daughter’s panties.

Herself

Before she licks.

And I wonder.

Does it seem to take forever?

For that small, moistening piece of cotton or silk.

To travel down.

Those young trembling legs.

Or does it seem.

Far too soon?

For her secret desire.

To be exposed.

For her certain damnation.

To arrive.

“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.”

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.”

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.

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.

“You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Been dreaming about it.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You nasty whore.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Disgusting slut.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You want to cum. Don’t you?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“So bad.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“It’s so well trained.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You need to cum.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Scream and cum.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“So bad.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You filthy bitch.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You fucking cunt.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“That’s your daughter’s tongue, you piece of shit.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Whore.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“Slut.”

“Your daughter’s tongue.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort.”

“You need to be punished.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kort. Oh god, please. Please, Mrs. Kort.”

Hi. I’m Petra.

The curly redhead on the bed is Gretchen.

Cute freckles, huh?

Even cuter ass.

Probably why it gets spanked more that it really deserves.

Like just a few minutes ago.

Red hair. Red ass.

Ha.

Used to have a nice red bush, too.

I make her shave it.

I don’t like hair on a pussy I whip.

And I whip her pussy a lot.

Again …

Probably more than she deserves.

But fuck.

Why not.

She’s mine.

Does whatever I say.

Or else.

And she’d better quit that fucking crying.

Like right now.

Or else.

Gretchen.

What a name.

Farm girl.

But with a brain.

That’s why she’s here at State.

Scholarship.

Smart.

But naive.

And lonely.

From the country to the city.

Separated from her herd.

Easy prey.

Gretchen was thrilled …

The first time I kissed her.

Was turned on …

By her first spanking.

Was hesitant …

When I asked to tie her up.

Was horrified …

When I sat my phone to record.

Was terrified …

When I got out my things.

Was broken …

Before the night was over.