Forgiveness [MF] [Western] [sm] [old gender values] [misogyny]

Sally laid the flowers in the middle of the dirt road that ran through the city. As she pulled herself up and dusted off her dress she was a woman.

“Your old life is over,” I hollered from the storefront as a stagecoach passed and the wind lifted dirt and dust all back on her blue and white dress sending her skirt billowing around her crinoline. It was all a poor choice in my eyes, weather was too hot for a corset and all that, especially not for him.

She lifted her pale face to me, curly locks of sun-kissed brown hair following behind her and almost hissed at me.

“You leave me alone Billy Holaday,” she turned and started to walk away as the wind picked up the flowers and started tossing them about from the bouquet to Sally’s astonishment.

She started to lift her skirt in both hands and chase after them and I couldn’t stand any more and marched myself to her in my corduroys and same frock coat I wore to the funeral–I paid for it I might as well wear it.

The Sex Shop Scenario [MF] [Bi]

I refuse to give into the
belief that sex with a certain person is only interesting for a certain period. I know I banged on
about this on a television documentary several years ago. I already have interesting ways of doing such
things, via an open relationship. Not recommended for everybody.

Seth had been getting to know the neighbourhood and to his delight, he found a rather good
sex shop close by.

*“Miss, shall I go to the sex shop? Message me when I am there. I shall purchase three items of
your choosing and I must use these items at your command. How does that sound?”*

*“Not a bad idea at all. Sounds like fun actually.”*

Off he went, no fear of being recognised. We had only been living in the area a month or so and
we felt like locals already. No one bothered us. No paparazzi to speak of. I sat in the living room with my laptop and my phone close by. Technology is a wonderful thing. I don’t know if I was the quickest adopter of such technologies as the internet and cell phones but the internet was fantastic. I had my headphones on…some good
“modern” beats playing. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I threw the headphones off.

A toy in the attic [MF] [Fsolo, rough, mc, ds, nosex, voy, sm]

It starts with a single gesture. A beckoning motion of my hand and you obediently follow me, holding the leash attached to your collar. Up the steps to the attic we walk, the wooden steps rough against your bare feet. The humid late summer air assaulting your bare flesh, causing stinging pinpricks of sweat to form over your body and trickle along your curves, dripping onto the slightly dusty floor boards.

My finger presses against your lips, silencing and stopping you as you enter the open space, moonlight pouring in through the sky light, illuminating the metal shackles anchored into the floor. Leaving your side, I walk over and begin to light two semi circles of pillar candles around the room, your eyes slowly adjusting to the soft, flickering light.

Turning to you with a slight nod and turn of my head, compelling you to walk into the circle and kneel, your forearms resting on your thighs, just as you are trained to do. I remove the leash and wrap it around my fist, as I examine your naked body, glistening with perspiration, from all sides. You arch your back, sticking your breasts and bottom out for me. You tilt your head back, eyes forward, exposing your neck, until you feel my gaze leaving your flesh.

Library Rendezvous [MF] [bd, ds, exhib, piv, rough, sm]

I notice you as I’m working on a project in the library, sitting across the common area at another table. I find it hard to concentrate, your partially unzipped hoodie keeps opening as you lean over your books, revealing your cute patterned bra underneath.

As you stand up in search of another book, I quickly scribble a note and wrap it with a long red ribbon, leaving it on top of your notebook. Returning to your seat, tucking your hair behind your ear, you look around and see me engrossed in copying more notes. Opening the letter, you read my words: “I want to ravish you. Tie the ribbon around your neck and meet me in the reference section. Leave your underwear behind.”

You stuff your books into your bag, and I glance up at the noise to see the red ribbon looped around your neck and you finish it in a bow over your throat. I watch you reach under the table and lean back in the chair, your arms shifting under the table before you leave. I wait a moment before I quickly follow up the stairs to the stacks. The floor is abandoned, with low lights illuminating every other row. I check row after row, eventually locating you in a dark aisle near the shelves of encyclopedias.

Stubborn (MF, Mdom, SM)

“Now, are you going to behave this time?” He asked. His mouth had a hint of a smile, but still maintained the anger in his voice. Despite the bruises on her ass from the last session, and the tremor of her legs, she defiantly pointed up her nose, scoffing at him. “As if”. All hint of a smile dropped from his face, and he moved quickly, using a flat palm to slap open her legs. He laughed sharply, vindicated by the wetness already growing. Her breath catches as his hand gets closer, only to be denied as he focuses his attention on her breasts. With a smack, he delivers the first blow. “You are to refer to me as Master only, understood?” She whimpers, no reply. A low growl comes out. “I see we’re going to start at the basics. Sit up” She complies, oddly, sitting up on the bed. He pulls a length of soft rope out, it’s silk not changing the roughness with which he lashes her wrists together. She hisses with pain. “Hey, that’s hurting me!” The protest falling on deaf ears. “If you listened from the start, you would still have your hands. However, you’ve lost the privilege of them today. Clearly you don’t know the basics of how this works, so we’re starting over. I command. You comply.” His hand fell across her breast with a crack, louder this time. She moans. “Are you going to listen, then?”
The moan changes to a begrudging groan. “Yes.” Crack “I’m sorry?” Hissing in air through her teeth, you could see how difficult this was for her. “Yes sir.” He pushes a finger barely inside her, still causing a low moan to come out of her. “When you listen, you get rewarded, slut” He smiles. “I had some fun things planned for you, but clearly you’ve got some penance to do.” Flat on her back, she can’t see him as he moves around the dark room. The sound of a belt sliding out and pants dropping are clue enough, but he yanks her up by her neck, causing her to kneel on the bed. “Now. I want you to suck me off. I want you to swallow every drop.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief, making him anger again. He grabs her by her neck, pulling her face close to his. “In this room, I am your master. You do as I say. Un. Der. Stood.” There was no question in his voice, only statement. She tilted her neck down, taking him fully on the first swipe. She gasps as he hits the back of her throat, but he keeps pushing down. As she bobs up and down, he rubs her ass. She moans, humming on his cock. The rubs turn to spanks as she hums and teases. “No teasing, whore.” Swiping her tongue up and down his length, any defiance has vanished as she focuses her energy on only the task before her. A low moan comes out of his mouth, changing to a gasp and then one final push. He cuts down her throat, holding her neck tight. She swallows carefully, rising up to look him in the eye. Sticking out her tongue, a perfect drop of cum falls on the sheets between their legs. His eyes turn dark and he reaches quickly around for her arms, yanking her off the bed and bending her over. She wags her ass in the air, clearly aware of what she’s doing. He grabs his discarded belt off the floor, bringing it down quickly with a loud crack. “Count.” He practically growls it, exasperated. “One” She moans, pushing her ass against his legs. “Two” her ass is already displaying stripes. 10 lashes later, her moans have turned to whispers. She is beginning to break. Crack, “Please sir….” She whimpers. Crack “Please what?” Crack “How many more?” More a cry than a question, he smiles. He drops the belt on the floor and grabs her by her wrists, turning her abruptly around. “So now you’re going to obey?” She whimpers, collapsing towards him. He pushes her back onto the bed, crawling closer. “Listen to me, whore. Are you going to obey now?” Her eyes are closed now. “Yes sir” she whispers. “Good.” Reaching to the side of the bed, he pulls out a vibrating dildo. Her eyes widen as she hears it buzz, and she moans a scared whimper as he pushes it inside her. Her hips begin to buck against his, her clit begging for attention. He swipes a thumb over it, licking up her neck at the same time. The combination arching her back, she moans loudly. “Do you want to cum now, slut?” A cry is his answer as she pushes up against his arm. He kisses up her chest as she continues to squirm and whimper. “You’ve caused me a deal of trouble today, you know that?” She means again, louder. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” She nods desperately, eyes wide. “Please sir. Please let me come.” A bite on the side of her neck, he pulls back suddenly, and turns the dildo off. Now working it in and out only with his hands, he sits back and watches. “Tell me why you think you deserve to cum, whore.” She moans, disappointed but still on edge. “Mmm…I sucked your cock so good today.” A slap lands on the inside of her thigh. “So? Any good slut can do that.” He mocks her from afar, pushing in and up o make her legs quiver. She’s hardly holding on now. “What else have you done. What can a stupid whore like you do to deserve to cum.” He moves closer, growling into her ear. “What makes you think you deserve anything.” She is silent now, moaning and rubbing her hips into the dildo. The occasional brush of a finger against her clit is driving her mad, but he carries on. “I own you. I own your pussy, I own your tits. You’re mine for pleasure. I got what I needed from you, what’s to stop me from leaving you like this, all tied up and whimpering?” His pace quickens, egged on by her cries. “Please….” She whispers, exhausted. “What was that, slut?” He smiles at her weakness. “Please, sir. Please let me cum. I know I don’t deserve it but….” He turns the vibrator back on and her hips rocket up. “Oh god please!” She screams and grits her teeth. The dildo is slapping in and out of her now. He leans in, nipping at her jaw. “Cum, then.”

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin, END [slow] [F/M] [M/S] [inc] [preg] [Mdom] [sm] [history-ish]

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin

by DiscipleN

Chapter 5

The town of Danlick stayed out of reach for many days. The roads were too muddy, the weather too inclement. We huddled in the loft with Luke and kept to ourselves. Outside, downpours could not slow rumors of my miraculous recovery. Hory’s manhood found strength again. He used me gently, but spilled his seed outside of my puss. Milk returned to my breasts. He told me, it was all his sucking that made them spring back to life. Laughter came easily between us during those rains.

We did not work. Leaks sprang from the roof. The pigs fouled themselves. Some starved. When we heard their desperate cries, we sprang to rescue them. Five days and nights in the rain flushed our sweat from us. We managed to save most of them.

I had two visitors in the eight days of rain that followed. Reverend Hannity pulled off his muddy boots at the door before entering. I held it open. Hory invited him in. We lunched and prayed together, thanking the lord for another miracle and future good health.

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin, Ch. 4 [slow] [F/M] [M/S] [inc] [preg] [Mdom] [sm] [history-ish]

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin

by DiscipleN

Chapter 4

Baptists refute canonical sainthood, but their stories survive. Many are regarded as important thinkers or heroes of the faith. Pastors de-emphasize their supposed miracles but quote their works.

The folk of Danlick believed in Saint Dunlop. I would need time to prepare myself to reach her. A month was not enough time. Fortified by Mrs. Orchard’s community, though her christian name came difficult to my tongue, I suffered Hory’s forcefulness without lapsing into despair. I neither felt nor sought pleasure from his manhood. Working farm and sty centered my emotions, lifted me above the darkness that tugged at my soul. My love for Luke increased every day. He was a blessing, if not in the way my neighbors imagined. A month after returning from Danlick, I was gathering eggs from our small hen house. Turning I shook feathers and dung from my apron. I looked up. Hortense had been enlarging one of the pens. His tools stood against a rail. I saw John Tuttle leading my son away.

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin, Ch. 3 [slow] [F/M] [M/S] [inc] [preg] [Mdom] [sm] [history-ish]

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin

by DiscipleN

Chapter 3

Our first child was born two months after Grandfather passed away. Hortence was twenty and unmarried. Twice, women in the township had met him with obvious intent. One was nearly my age and reeked of desperation, for alcohol not a husband. The other was a cute fireball who expected men to jump when she snapped her fingers. I can’t say who disappointed my son more. He rejected both, simply by not inviting them again.

I had kept my pregnancy a secret. A backwoods church is the center of community events and religious services. I received comments about gaining weight, but I never encouraged that falsehood. My past lies weighed heavily. About the time of my third month, incredible rumors crisscrossed communities for fifty miles. Every third week or so, news came of a miracle baby. Folk assumed the nonsense regarded a particular baby, born to an unwed mother. With successive tales giving details of births to different mothers who were solid members of society, a pattern formed, a pattern who’s familiarity terrified me. The women, their husbands all casualties in the war, had born sons in recent months. My peers suggested the reality of lonely women succumbing to temptation. Consistent rumors over the next three months, from different communities, inspired a truth of faith, especially when the rumors claimed the miracle sons resembled the lost fathers! Pastors began to laud the “Danlick Blessings.” God was giving sons to devout Christian widows. Locals attending church nearly doubled. Hope and pride, devastated by the war, swelled in their hearts.

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin, Ch. 2 [slow] [F/M] [M/S] [inc] [preg] [Mdom] [sm] [history-ish]

Chapter 2

Hortense found me rewrapping my foot with a dish cloth. I had cleaned his shirt with soap and full boiling water. Sensing the emergency was over, my son reverted to practical matters. “I’m hungry, Ma. Did Greatgran eat yet?”

I sliced headcheese and tore chunks of bread for both of them. I skipped eating. How my body was sore from a foot wound, I could not explain it. My foot felt somewhat better by supper. I made a stew. Hory helped to wash the dishes. I cleaned up Grandpa after dinner. He grabbed my breasts. Hory caught him at it.

“Don’t touch her, Gramps!”

Regis took his hand off my dress and sulked. Hory put his great-grandfather in his room early. He latched it shut and came to me.

“You will sleep with me, tonight.”

Blood rushed to my face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go into town.”

“You will give me a fuck every night until you can.” My son whispered. Had he learned what Regis knew?

The words he used last night had been reserved. A day later they had turned foul. “Son, you mustn’t put your seed in me. Let me-”

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin, Ch.1 [slow] [F/M] [M/S] [inc] [preg] [Mdom] [sm] [history-ish]

S.M.O.M.S. – The Origin

by DiscipleN

– all characters herein, who act explicitly, are 18 or older. –
– For extra context, please read my first SMOMS (submissive mothers organized for mutual support) story, set in modern times. Go to my profile and click on the POSTS tab.
– I’ll claim, the difference between porn and erotica is, porn is ridiculous, erotica less so. This here be some crazy shit.

Chapter 1

I cannot blame my downfall on the lie I told, just as spring is not at fault for melting frozen rivers. I would have died, from despair’s noose, if my last son had been taken to avenge the Yankee villains who killed his father and brother. So I lied to the man who wore gray rags proudly. I lied to his brave recruits who had lied about their ages, to avenge their families. I told them my boy was twelve. He was sixteen at the time. Neighbors did not betray us. All had lost sons and husbands. It helped that Hortense’s stature is slight, hardly taller than myself. When my boy eventually chose to grasp me, two years later, my diminutive build was as much at fault for casting me into mortal sin as was the lie.