I spent Easter break of my sophomore year at Mariah’s mother’s house. I’d anticipated a rather placid time, as Mariah had never given any hints that her mother knew of her sexual prowess. But the thought of normality was gone the moment we walked inside.
Mariah’s mother was on her knees waiting just inside the door, naked except for white thigh high stockings and a red collar around her neck with a leash attached.
I let out a startled squeak at the sight.
Mariah smiled at both her mother’s obedience and her slave’s shock. She lifted her heel and her mother, without a word, took it off and began sucking on her daughter’s stocking-clad toes.
“Hello, Mommy-slut,” Mariah greeted her, amused.
“Welcome home, Queen Mariah,” the submissive mother greeted in a barely intelligible mumble, without taking the stocking-clad toes out of her mouth. Only able to see her daughter intermittently since college began almost two years ago, she desperately craved the feelings that utter submission to her daughter brought her.
I watched stunned and in awe. Queen? I thought to myself.
Mariah changed feet and the obedient mother replicated the expected service, taking the other stocking-clad foot between her lips.
Mariah asked, “Does Mommy need to come?”
“Oh God yes, my Queen,” the MILF on her knees responded. A text from Mariah a month ago had forbidden her to have an orgasm until her daughter’s arrival, which she had obeyed, although with great difficulty.
“You obeyed my order not to come?” Mariah asked, although she knew her mother was her most obedient slave.
“Of course, my Queen,” the submissive mother replied.
“You’re such a good Mommy-slut,” Mariah purred, like she was praising a two-year-old.
“Thank you, my Queen,” her mother replied, glancing up to see who was accompanying her daughter. There was always someone accompanying her daughter.
Mariah walked into the living room, seated herself regally on the couch and called out to us. “Sluts, crawl to me.”
I fell to my knees immediately and found myself face to face with an older version of my Mistress.
The mother looked into my eyes briefly before wordlessly turning and going to her, or rather to our Mistress.
I followed, and soon we were both at her feet.
Mariah extended her right foot and ordered, “Fuck yourself on my foot, Mommy.”
The startled look on Mommy’s face told me this was unexpected and new.
Nevertheless, the MILF didn’t hesitate as she straddled her daughter’s foot and began rubbing her wet cunt on it. She closed her eyes, grabbed her daughter’s calf, and began bucking back and forth, rubbing her clit and her sopping wet pussy on her daughter’s stocking-clad foot. The orgasm, which had been simmering just below the surface all day with eager anticipation of her daughter’s arrival, didn’t take long to begin to boil and she obviously knew she was going to erupt soon. Unable to come without the permission of her dominant daughter she begged, “My Queen, may I please come?”
“On your daughter’s foot?” Mariah questioned, amused.
“Yes, my Queen,” the frantic mother answered, rubbing herself furiously on her daughter’s foot, like a dog humping someone’s leg.
“What will you do in return for such a privilege?” Mariah queried, lovingly watching her mother so close and so desperate.
“Anything, my Queen,” she moaned, although as her daughter’s sex slave, I couldn’t fathom what ‘anything’ could entail beyond what she was already committed to do.
“You will pay for me and my pet to travel to Europe this summer?” she asked.
“Of course,” the well-off MILF agreed, looking at me curiously as if wondering whether I was the pet being mentioned.
“Come now, Mommy,” she ordered.
The volcano of lust erupted, and on cue, the long-awaited orgasm quaked through the obedient mother’s body.
I watched in awe at the self-control the mother had and how perfectly the permission given and the resultant orgasm coincided.
No one appeared to be immune to Mariah’s seductive power, and Sandra wondered just how far Mariah would go on this occasion.
Once the service started, Sandra felt her phone vibrate. She checked it and saw a text message from Mariah. I am in the front pew, come and join me.
Sandra prayed Mariah would behave herself as she headed into the sanctuary where everyone would see her in her heels, so inappropriate for church, as she walked to the front pew.
When Sandra reached the front, she saw that Mariah was sitting with Lucille and her chunky eighteen-year-old daughter Elly.
Mariah, seeing her sub, patted the open seat next to her as if Sandra were a puppy.
Sandra slid into the pew past Lucille’s cold glare, Elly’s bored glazed stare into nothing, and finally past her Mistress’s smug smile.
For Sandra the next hour was an anxiety-riddled disaster waiting to happen as she kept anticipating being humiliated in some unpredictable fashion in front of the whole congregation. Yet it never occurred, although the low vibrations from the egg in her cunt still kept her edgy throughout the sermon about the risks of reckless ambition. Sandra thought her biggest risk this morning was probably reckless optimism. Who knew what Mariah may have in store for her?
Once the sermon ended and everyone was standing for the last hymn, Mariah whispered in her pet’s ear, “Come right now, slut.”
The inevitable disastrous order given, Sandra was thankful that at least the hymn was an upbeat one, with two guitars and drums, and that she was standing up. She closed her eyes so anyone who might pay attention to her would think she was deeply into the hymn, but the reality was that she was lost in deep concentration. She was letting go of the control she’d held in check so strongly from the buzzing within her cunt all morning, and allowing, no, encouraging the pleasure to do its thing. The orgasm built instantly as it had been lingering ready to ignite for more than an hour, and as it reared its tumultuous head, Sandra now focused on keeping her mouth closed when the imminent big bang hit. The hymn was nearing the end when she felt the bubble burst and was in such awe by the pleasure the long held back orgasm brought, she couldn’t maintain her silence (singing had been out of the question) as she screamed, totally out of character, “Oh my God!” then thinking quickly, followed it with, “Halleluiah!”
Others followed, seeing Sandra’s euphoric outburst as a call to God, and the church echoed with praises to their Enlivener.
Mariah smiled to herself, knowing what had really transpired.
Turning to the tightly anal minister’s wife once the hymn ended and the congregation began milling about, Mariah asked, “Could we meet for coffee this week sometime? I would love to know more about your church.”
“Of course, my dear,” Lucille replied, giving the probable wayward soul’s hand a warm squeeze.