Voicemail
Introduction:
A mother discovers her daughter is kinkier than she thought
Voicemail
by Virtual Scott
I was in my daughter Mimiâs room balancing the phone handset on one shoulder and trying to paw through the stack of college admissions paperwork. Iâd gotten a busy signal again. I cursed the guidance counselors under my breath as I almost dropped the entire file on the floor. My finger, which had been headed for the âredialâ button on Mimiâs fancy phone, jerked and hit the last, unlabeled, speed dial setting instead.
I realized my mistake when instead of hearing Mr. Walkerson answer, a sultry voice purred, âSlut! I command you-â I started flailing for the switchhook but before I could reach it the voice was interrupted by a beep and several more tones â the speed dial sequence was still running! A new voice, of the type beloved by phone companies, mechanically announced, âYou have â one â new message. Touch â7â to hear the next unplayed message.â
The temptation to just hang up was great, but I wanted to find out what Mimi was up to. Sheâd always seemed so normal and well-behaved. I had to know more. After sitting down, I punched the button and listened as my illusions were shattered.
âItâs Tammy. Oh God, Mistress, I want to cum so bad,â cooed this young-sounding girl â I could hear the capitalization of âMistressâ in her tone â âjust thinking about you! You shouldnât have whipped me so hard, Iâm scared my mom will notice and I can hardly sit down, but it feels so good!â She sounded breathless, and I was getting that way quickly myself, although not from arousal! âI havenât brushed since so I can keep the taste of you in my mouth, but oh I want to be with you again so much! Please, Iâll be your slave whenever you want. Call me soon! Bye!â
Mindlessly I followed the machineâs instructions to discard the message and exit the voicemail system, then hung up. The previously-important paperwork sat unnoticed on my lap while I struggled to comprehend the magnitude of my problem. What had happened to my little girl, the high school honors student and Sunday school star? It sounded like she had turned into some whip-wielding lesbian slut and I hadnât even noticed!
âHi, Mrs. Gianelli, I was looking for Mimi. Is anything wrong?â I jumped and the entire file cascaded to the floor. Muttering a curse, I dropped to me knees and began collecting the papers. Juliet Miner, Mimiâs best friend from down the street, came over to help me. I thought about what to say as we cleaned up the mess; Mimi and Juliet were nearly inseparable and certainly she was nearly a second daughter to me.
I knew Juliet was really bright, probably even smarter than Mimi, and had a good level head on her shoulders. (My husband Barry had said more than once, in his usual sexist fashion, that the rest of her was pretty good too.) Iâd already decided I couldnât tell Barry about this â heâd probably get excited about it, the pig â but I had to talk it over with somebody. And Juliet was planning to major in psychology, wasnât she?
She took it well, better than I had, actually. Juliet remained calm, worked to get me to talk it out, and managed to clamp down on the shock I was sure she must have felt. Finally, though, I burst out, âWhat am I going to do?â Her answer was interrupted by the slamming front door and Mimiâs call, âHi mom, Iâm home! Is Juliet here yet?â Juliet ssshâed me and promised weâd talk more tomorrow, but to act normal for now.
It was nearly the hardest thing Iâd done to pretend nothing had happened and let Mimi hug me and give me a peck on the cheek before she departed with Juliet. Barry, as usual, was oblivious to my mood that evening and wasnât interested in doing anything when we went to bed. It was just as well. I didnât think I could have done anything with visions of Mimi letting some girl lick her running through my mind.
My impatience was rewarded the next day when Juliet showed up unusually early for our talk. âDonât worry,â she reassured me when she saw my expression, âI ditched calc but Iâm acing the course. And Mimi is important to me, too. This way we have time to chat without being interrupted.â She dumped her bookbag on the floor and plopped on the couch across from me. âWhat do you think we should do?â
I was relieved to note her unconscious use of âweâ â it meant a lot to me that I wouldnât be on my own in this. âI think I should just confront her and ask her to explain,â I started. It was obvious Juliet didnât completely agree.
âBut how?â she asked. âYou canât just accuse her. What if she denies it? And what will you do â punish her?â I was sure Juliet could see from my expression that if that was what it would take to straighten out my wayward daughter, Iâd do it. âNo,â she mused, âwe need to be more clever. Hmmmm⊠You said the message sounded like Mimi was whipping this other girl?â I nodded.
âWell, what if we turned the tables on her? I mean, maybe if she was on the receiving end of that kind of treatment, sheâd realize how cruel it was and want to stop on her own. Then sheâd be working with us instead of against us!â
The idea had possibilities. It had sounded like the girl, Tammy, had liked being beaten; but I remembered Mimi crying when weâd spanked her long ago when she was just a little girl. She hadnât liked it then, no doubt about it. Besides, if she was doing that kind of thing to other people, she deserved it. But â âWho would do it? Me?â
âSure! You are her mother.â Juliet looked more confident than I felt. âI suppose spanking her again wouldnât be a problem.â She shook her head. âOh no, Mrs. G., youâd have to whip her. Otherwise you wouldnât be making the point properly.â
Maybe weâd need another plan. âIâm not sure I could do that.â Juliet appeared unconvinced, so I added, âbesides, where would we get a whip?â
She smiled gently at me before responding. âMimiâs lucky to have a mother like you, Mrs. G. Look, you donât have to do it hard enough to really hurt, just so she gets the idea. And I think you probably could get by with just a belt.â Her expression brightened as if sheâd suddenly had a brainstorm. âThatâs it! I bet your husband has a belt that would be perfect! And you could try it on me first, just to make sure you wouldnât do any harm!â
I couldnât let her do it. âThank you, Juliet, really, but I couldnât put you through thatâŠâ She reached out and squeezed my hand briefly. âPlease, Mrs. Gianelli? Iâd do anything to help Mimi, you know that. Besides, I know you wouldnât hurt me. Câmon, we have to try!â With that, she shifted her grip and pulled me to my feet, then towed me towards the master bedroom.
Reluctantly I poked through Barryâs side of the closet until I found an old leather belt from his âbiker-wannabeâ days. It now was too small for his expanding waistline so I knew he wouldnât miss it. I turned to find Juliet bent over the foot of the bed, watching me. I walked closer to her, but couldnât bring myself to lift the belt.
âItâs okay,â she whispered, just the barest tremor audible in her voice, âI trust you. Go ahead.â I swung clumsily at her, but my half-hearted attempt resulted in the belt barely brushing her thigh. Embarrassed, I tried again, with more force, and connected solidly enough to generate a faint slap.
Juliet jumped up, causing me to yelp and drop the belt â Iâd hurt her! âNo, Iâm fine,â she reassured me, âbut I canât feel a thing through these clothes. Iâm just taking them off so I can get a better idea of what to expect.â She started stripping naked right there! I tried looking everywhere in the room except at the trim girl who very nearly was my daughter, but I could feel the heat of my blush. Closing the curtains gave me something to do, but all too soon she was in position and I was holding the belt again.
We worked our way up through perhaps half a dozen strokes, each followed by Julietâs observation that I should be hitting harder. When she flinched after the last stroke, I couldnât bring myself to hit her slightly reddened buns again. âReally,â she insisted, âit hardly hurts at all. Iâm fine, Mrs. G.â Disclaimers aside, I was still concerned enough Iâd tuned out her nudity. âNo, Juliet, I wonât do any more. Look at your⊠you, it must hurt awfully. Weâll have to stop.â
âI wish I could convince you,â she pleaded. âLook, Iâll hit you just the same way, and you can feel it for yourself. Then youâll know itâs okay.â I definitely wasnât ready for this! âPlease? Itâs for Mimi.â
Somehow I found myself removing my clothing while Juliet watched! I would never have been able to do it if sheâd shown any reaction, but her earnest desire to help and incredible focus worked to calm my own fears. I even realized I was comparing our bodies and not coming out as badly as I might have thought. Then I was bent over the bed, listening for the belt.
Thwack! I twitched, but the fear was much worse than the sensation, and I motioned for Juliet to continue. Thwack! THWACK! THWACK! The last stroke really burned! It sounded louder than when Iâd given them to Juliet, but that probably was due to our change in positions. Anyway, she hadnât complained about what sheâd gotten. If both of us could survive the experience, so could Mimi.
âIâm so sorry, Mrs. Gianelli! I didnât mean to hit you so hard that last time, I got off balance. Are you okay?â The cool palm of Julietâs hand softly stroked my burning rear, and drifted down towards-
I quickly turned, to reassure her, and found myself facing Julietâs bush at very close range. It was neatly trimmed, probably for her swimsuit, and didnât do much to obscure her lips. They looked a little flushed, too⊠âShe made that girl lick her, didnât she?â Juliet demanded in an intense voice. I wanted to back away, but I was pinned against the bed. âDo you think we should make her lick me? Would she like it?â She moved closer to me, now her body was filling my field of view!
Her hand was brushing my hair, and I caught a hint of a fragrance I knew must be hers. There was none of the âfishinessâ Barry always complained about; did it taste as good? âYouâd like to lick me, wouldnât you?â I was so embarrassed! How had she guessed? âTry it.â Juliet pulled me into her, and I couldnât resist darting my tongue out for a tiny taste. âHarder!â she hissed, and the belt landed on my rear again!
By mid-afternoon, my tongue was sore. So was my rear, from the belt, then the whip, and finally the dildo that was stretching my rear hole. Iâd realized much earlier it hadnât been Mimiâs voicemail Iâd stumbled onto. But I knew she was going to be punished anyway; Mistress Juliet had told me I could watch.