The Girl Who Made Women Say Yes, Part 2
Fictional fantasy for adults only. You ought to read Part 1 of this story first.
I stared up at the ceiling and thought, over and over, 'my name is Lynda Ashton and I am a mother and a lesbian lover.' I repeated it so much I wondered if I would ever manage to think of anything else again. Would I go mad?
There was a small crack in the ceiling above me. 'There was a young woman from Ealing, who had a peculiar feeling, she lay on her back, and opened her crack, and pissed all over the ceiling.' I snapped out of the limerick. Back to what I had been told to think, anyway I wasn't in Ealing at all. And I didn't have instructions to piss.
But of course I wasn't mad. I could think of something else; even wondering if I would have other thoughts was enough to tell me I wasn't quite crazy. Not yet, anyway. But here I was, on my back on my bed, naked with legs wide apart, arms by my side and I admit I did wonder.
Louisa May, my ten year old daughter, had told me to come upstairs straight after lunch and wait for her. I was shivering a little; the afternoon was getting on and I had been waiting like this for a while. The warmth of the day was fading and I felt cold. How long had I been lying like this? God knows: Louisa May told me to put the bedside clock out of sight, and I had.
Hell's bells, did I have any ability to make my own mind up any more? Why on earth didn't I get up, get dressed and go and ask why was I being kept waiting?
Well of course I was waiting here on my back because that was what I had been told to do. Just as I had been told to repeat this damned mantra. My daughter had made me cum before lunch and promised me another "cummie" as she called it.
But I wasn't a lesbian, was I? I was just a woman who had found men a disappointment. Well, they all do that to you sooner or later, so what was my problem? I could guarantee that number one screen heartthrob Mr. Bigcock was right at this moment letting down number one screen glamourpuss Ms. Cleavage; you read about in the news all the time.
Not so much will they, won't they but he really will, won't he?
I shivered a little more and felt my face redden slightly. This was ridiculous: earlier my daughter had sat on my lap and kissed me while she fingered me. I know, you're thinking that's impossible; ten year olds don't so that to their mothers. Just as you would say that they couldn't have the power to make you want it.
Welcome to the world of the Ashtons: a frustrated desperate mother and a little girl who not only knew what I wanted but made me want it too. So as we cleared up lunch – and not a hint to my eldest daughter Kimmie what had happened between me and my youngest before the meal – she told me to go upstairs to wait for her. Along with my mantra, though Louisa May called it my reminder.
My name is Lynda Ashton and I am a mother and a lesbian lover. My name is Lynda Ashton and I am a mother and a lesbian lover. My name is–
The door opened and my heart almost leapt out of my chest. She was here and I felt my cunt juice up. In a moment she would be on me and make me cum. In a moment she'd–
"Mum?" It was Kimmie, my twelve year old. "What the hell are you doing like that?"
I sat upright, and immediately felt guilty I had broken an order from Louisa May, but I tried to look nonchalant. "No problem, I felt unwell and hot so I took all my clothes off and laid down and fell asleep." That was what my brain told my voice to say, but it was more like: "Lemfeltunwellhotclothesofflaydownsleep"
"What?" Kimmie looked at me as if I was mad. She also, I noticed, was looking at my crotch and the neat bush I have there, though the path through it to the moist red depths was all too obvious.
I didn't get off the bed, and kept my legs apart. "Did Lulu send you up?"
"Lulu? Oh, her, no, why?" My eldest daughter – between looking at my hard nipples and open twat – looked at me suspiciously. Nudity wasn't exactly unknown in the house but we didn't flaunt it either. Not like this.
"Uhm, so why did you come up here?"
"I came up to say I'm going out. I’m going over to see my friend Josie, back later." The pre-teen paused, regarding me again. "Can I get you anything?"
"Yes, your sister." The words rang loud and clear in my head, but didn't pass my lips, though God knows I was tempted. "No," I said in actuality. "I'm fine honey. Don't worry about me."
Kimmie didn't look as if she believed me, but she retreated. I lay back on the bed with legs still apart and closed my eyes. Fuck, I thought, that was close.
"She's gone," said my youngest from the door.
I lifted my head, almost unable to believe it really was her. "Oh, sweetheart" I began.
"Hush," said Louisa may as she crossed to the bed. "Don't say anything. I just want to look at you all looking lovely and naked." Then she frowned. "Hmmm, but I don't want you all hairy."
I blushed. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know that."
''That’s okay," she smiled. "But until you get it shaved off..." She didn't need to finish. I was off the bed like a shot and into the small en-suite next to the master bedroom and rooting in the cabinet for a razor.
My name is Lynda Ashton and I am a mother and a lesbian lover who shaves her cunt. My name is–
"Hurry," said my child from the doorway as she watched me. "I wanna get you cummin' hard."
God, me too, I thought. I began scraping at my bush like it was a weed-clearing race in an over-grown garden. Hacking and chopping away and aware my own daughter was watching with a smile on her lovely, pretty lips.
"Will you..." I gulped. "Will you kiss me?"
"Maybe," said Louisa May casually. "Why?"
"Just wondered." The weeds were clearing nicely and I fought down the pang of disappointment. I loved her kisses. "I just thought maybe, you know, I should put lipstick on."
Louisa May wrinkled her nose. "No, not for me. You can wear that when you have a girlfriend. I'll tell you the shade you gotta wear."
My heart was pounding. So I hadn't misheard earlier. She really wanted me to have a lesbian lover. Question was: would this female be as good and sexy as my little girl?
Bigger question: would that mean I couldn't have my daughter make love to me any more?
I stood up straight and anxiously showed Lulu what I'd done. My mound was almost perfectly bald, but very red. I hoped it didn't put her off, but she didn't look disturbed by it. "Okie Dokie... back on the bed," she grinned. "Face down."
"Face down?" I blinked.
"Mummy, please don't question me," she said with enough weight in her tone to suggest she wouldn't tell me twice. Ever. I nodded, apologized and fled to the bed to fling myself face down on it. I stretched my legs apart and thought, actually I don't care how I am providing she gets her hand in me.
"These the panties you had on earlier?" Lulu had picked up my discarded panties from earlier, the black lace and pink pair I had worn when she made me cum before lunch. The ones I had dribbled into through the meal. She sniffed the crotch and even that simple act made me juice up again.
"Uh, yes, sweetheart, of course they are." I swallowed as she brought them over to me.
"Good," she said. "I want you to wear 'them over your head." Without pausing she knelt beside me and stretched them over my head, tugging them down so the smelly, cum stained crotch was over my nose. God, it smelt strong even now. My daughter adjusted them so they were in the right place and covered my eyes as well as my nose. There would be no way I could see what Louisa May was doing to me, but thank heavens I would get to feel it. She gave me a peck on my lips through the fabric over my lips, and I confess I moaned a little.
I lay on my face in the dark, wanting her to fist fuck me and kiss me and do whatever she wanted. Well, I suppose she was doing exactly what she wanted right now. I could hear her moving about, then her weight on the bed by my hips. I wriggled just a fraction in anticipation, wondering if my juices would seriously stain the bedspread.
But who cares about sodding bedspreads? I was lesbian slut now. I was a cum mummy.
The first unexpected slap on my upturned bum made me yelp. "Quiet," commanded Louisa May, and there was second, harder slap. I felt so helpless and so instantly aroused; I had no idea she wanted to spank me. I had never smacked her and only once or twice given Kimmie as a toddler slap on the back of her legs for some misdemeanor. Spanking wasn't ever part of the home life, yet here I was being spanked by a child. Had I been naughty? Probably, and the thought made my hot hole burn more.
There were three more smacks. Hard ones too and my backside felt as if it was on fire. I wriggled a little more, partly to try to ease the discomfort and partly to show I was ready to be fucked. God, I was like an animal in heat. That's it, smack me, have me. What did I care? I was here to be used, and so long as Lulu got her hand in me I could be beaten black and blue for all I cared. The hand that smacked my bum was now rubbing my cheeks, massaging them. To make them better or to make them hurt? I had no idea and I knew I better not ask.
I felt my daughter's fingers at my cunt lips. They were probing hesitantly, which was funny because last time she knew where to go without fail. Well, this time I was in a different position. I relaxed and hoped they would all be in me soon.
I didn't have long to wait. The probing, careful fingers took on an urgency. They were finding me, finding how wet I was. They were poking and prodding and slipping in me. Not a fist but at least two, maybe three fingers. Yes, three definitely. They were wiggling in me and my excitement was mounting.
Mounting? It was positively scampering up the sheer face of the mountain.
For God's sake my clit! I wanted to say it aloud. See to my fucking clit! But I bit the satin knickers in front of my mouth to remind me to be quiet. The fingers were working in and out of me, wriggling, not as gracefully as before but Lulu was using my hole as I wanted her to, so I didn't mind. Actually, using it as she wanted to. I didn't have a choice, and I loved it.
I clenched my fists, thumbs digging in my palms, as the three fingers in my burning wet hole became four and began sliding in and out. An urgent rhythm, slurping noisily. Lulu's thumb was on my clit briefly and occasionally. It was teasing me to perfection and I thought I would explode.
A 34 year-old woman today self-detonated with pure lust in her home on Oakfield Avenue when her daughter fisted her, the sober-faced news reporter would read out. The woman, Lynda Ashton, had to be scraped off the ceiling. Experts say it was the best fucking climax ever and she just didn't care what she did now and her pretty, sexy little daughter could do anything she wanted–
The hand, the fingers were faster. Straight to the point, as it were. I moaned desperately, squirmed as much as I dared.
Then I came. God, I came with a scream. My whole body juddered and shook and there was a fireworks display inside me. Right above the torrent of helpless pleasure that roared through me in a tidal wave of white hot pleasure.
The hand stopped and slid out noisily. One more slap on my bum, a wet sort of slap, and the weight shifted off the bed.
"There," said Lousia May as she put her head next to mine. "How was that, mummy?"
"Perfect." I managed to say. More like "Erfect" into my makeshift panty gag, but I didn't care. I was just bathing in the glow of the volcano. Nothing mattered right now. Not even being face down. Nor having my mound beginning to feel sore, nor the fact all I could smell was my stale juices (but a distinct whiff of fresh cum was filtering through) and even the fact I had waited ages for this didn't worry me now.
Well, if it was going to be as good as this who cares? I heard the door open and close and lay, wondering what was happening. But the room was silent and still. Very slowly, I lifted my head and peeled back my panties. The room was empty. Louisa May had made me cum as she promised and left me alone.
I felt a sense of disappointment as I could make myself do that all over again, but if this was what Lulu wanted, what choice did I have? With a sigh I collapsed back on the bed and drifted through the slowly calming storm in me. Even the glow from my spanked bum was sending delicious sensations through me. God, where did my child learn to be so good with women?
This power she had was a sort of magic, or a spell, or a trick. Or she was just so damn good at making women do what she wanted, and enjoy it as well. I sighed loudly, lost in delight.
I loved my youngest daughter in so many ways. But this way was the best of all. "Lulu," I whispered several times over, and fell asleep.
I swear I never noticed when Louisa May put that thing in me, but when I woke up and climbed off the bed – my whole body as if drugged from the deep sleep and my tongue thick – I felt this thing move within me. A sort of slow tremor. In shock I sat up and blinked down at my bald crotch. Except it didn't look so bald now. My whole twat – my mound, lips, slit, the whole center of my lust – was covered with a large piece of silver duct tape. Industrial width and strength.
And there was definitely something trembling in me that wasn't there before.