textfiles/sex/EROTICA/V/voicmail.txt

Voicemail
by scott

I was in my daughter Mimi's room balancing the phone handset on
one shoulder and trying to paw through the stack of college
admissions paperwork. I'd 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 "redial" button on Mimi's 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, "Slut! I command you-" I started
flailing for the switchhook but before I could reach it the
voice was interrupted by a beep and several more tones -- the
speed dial sequence was still running! A new voice, of the type
beloved by phone companies, mechanically announced, "You have --
one -- new message. Touch '7' to hear the next unplayed
message."

The temptation to just hang up was great, but I wanted to find
out what Mimi was up to. She'd 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.

"It's Tammy. Oh God, Mistress, I want to cum so bad," cooed this
young-sounding girl -- I could hear the capitalization of
'Mistress' in her tone -- "just thinking about you! You
shouldn't have whipped me so hard, I'm scared my mom will notice
and I can hardly sit down, but it feels so good!" She sounded
breathless, and I was getting that way quickly myself, although
not from arousal! "I haven't 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, I'll be your slave whenever you want. Call me
soon! Bye!"

Mindlessly I followed the machine's 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 hadn't even noticed!

"Hi, Mrs. Gianelli, I was looking for Mimi. Is anything wrong?"
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, Mimi's 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.) I'd already decided I
couldn't tell Barry about this -- *he'd* probably get *excited*
about it, the pig -- but I had to talk it over with *somebody*.
And Juliet was planning to major in psychology, wasn't 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, "What am I going to *do*?" Her answer was interrupted
by the slamming front door and Mimi's call, "Hi mom, I'm home!
Is Juliet here yet?" Juliet sssh'ed me and promised we'd talk
more tomorrow, but to act normal for now.

It was nearly the hardest thing I'd 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 wasn't interested in doing anything
when we went to bed. It was just as well. I didn't 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. "Don't worry," she reassured me
when she saw my expression, "I ditched calc but I'm acing the
course. And Mimi is important to me, too. This way we have time
to chat without being interrupted." She dumped her bookbag on
the floor and plopped on the couch across from me. "What do you
think we should do?"

I was relieved to note her unconscious use of "we" -- it meant a
lot to me that I wouldn't be on my own in this. "I think I
should just confront her and ask her to explain," I started. It
was obvious Juliet didn't completely agree.

"But how?" she asked. "You can't just accuse her. What if she
denies it? And what will you do -- punish her?" I was sure
Juliet could see from my expression that if that was what it
would take to straighten out my wayward daughter, I'd do it.
"No," she mused, "we need to be more clever. Hmmmm... You said
the message sounded like Mimi was whipping this other girl?" I
nodded.

"Well, what if we turned the tables on her? I mean, maybe if she
was on the receiving end of that kind of treatment, she'd
realize how cruel it was and want to stop on her own. Then she'd
be working with us instead of against us!"

The idea had possibilities. It had sounded like the girl, Tammy,
had *liked* being beaten; but I remembered Mimi crying when we'd
spanked her long ago when she was just a little girl. She hadn't
liked it then, no doubt about it. Besides, if she was doing that
kind of thing to other people, she deserved it. But -- "Who
would do it? Me?"

"Sure! You *are* her mother." Juliet looked more confident than
I felt. "I suppose spanking her again wouldn't be a problem."
She shook her head. "Oh no, Mrs. G., you'd have to whip her.
Otherwise you wouldn't be making the point properly."

Maybe we'd need another plan. "I'm not sure I could do that."
Juliet appeared unconvinced, so I added, "besides, where would
we get a whip?"

She smiled gently at me before responding. "Mimi's lucky to have
a mother like you, Mrs. G. Look, you don't 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." Her expression
brightened as if she'd suddenly had a brainstorm. "That's 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 wouldn't do any harm!"

I couldn't let her do it. "Thank you, Juliet, really, but I
couldn't put you through that..." She reached out and squeezed
my hand briefly. "*Please*, Mrs. Gianelli? I'd do anything to
help Mimi, you know that. Besides, I know you wouldn't hurt me.
C'mon, we have to try!" With that, she shifted her grip and
pulled me to my feet, then towed me towards the master bedroom.

Reluctantly I poked through Barry's side of the closet until I
found an old leather belt from his "biker-wannabe" days. It now
was too small for his expanding waistline so I knew he wouldn't
miss it. I turned to find Juliet bent over the foot of the bed,
watching me. I walked closer to her, but couldn't bring myself
to lift the belt.

"It's okay," she whispered, just the barest tremor audible in
her voice, "I trust you. Go ahead." 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 -- I'd
hurt her! "No, I'm fine," she reassured me, "but I can't feel a
*thing* through these clothes. I'm just taking them off so I can
get a better idea of what to expect." 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 Juliet's observation that I should be hitting
harder. When she flinched after the last stroke, I couldn't
bring myself to hit her slightly reddened buns again. "Really,"
she insisted, "it hardly hurts at all. I'm *fine*, Mrs. G."
Disclaimers aside, I was still concerned enough I'd tuned out
her nudity. "No, Juliet, I won't do any more. Look at your...
you, it must hurt awfully. We'll have to stop."

"I wish I could convince you," she pleaded. "Look, I'll hit you
just the same way, and you can feel it for yourself. Then you'll
know it's okay." I *definitely* wasn't ready for this! "Please?
It's for Mimi."

Somehow I found myself removing my clothing while Juliet
watched! I would never have been able to do it if she'd 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 I'd given them to Juliet, but that probably was
due to our change in positions. Anyway, she hadn't complained
about what she'd gotten. If both of us could survive the
experience, so could Mimi.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Gianelli! I didn't mean to hit you so hard
that last time, I got off balance. Are you okay?" The cool palm
of Juliet's hand softly stroked my burning rear, and drifted
down towards-

I quickly turned, to reassure her, and found myself facing
Juliet's bush at very close range. It was neatly trimmed,
probably for her swimsuit, and didn't do much to obscure her
lips. They looked a little flushed, too... "She made that girl
lick her, didn't she?" Juliet demanded in an intense voice. I
wanted to back away, but I was pinned against the bed. "Do you
think we should make her lick me? Would she like it?" 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 "fishiness"
Barry always complained about; did it taste as good? "You'd like
to lick me, wouldn't you?" I was so embarrassed! How had she
guessed? "Try it." Juliet pulled me into her, and I couldn't
resist darting my tongue out for a tiny taste. "Harder!" 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. I'd realized much earlier it hadn't been Mimi's
voicemail I'd stumbled onto. But I knew she was going to be
punished anyway; Mistress Juliet had told me I could watch.