Author: Virtual Scott
Title: Voicemail
Universe: deirdre
Summary: A mother learns her daughter is kinkier than she thought
Keywords: Ff fdom reluc

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.