My Stepmothers Firm Hand Pt 02

Yes. Finally, the moment came when I would have to confess my sins, my intimate secrets, to Elizabeth. Knowing her, she won't give up and will pursue the topic until I say everything as if in a confession. I wonder what the penance will be. I suppose there can only be one - flogging.

I don't know why, but somehow I was afraid of what was to come and this conversation with her. A moment ago, I was listening and she was talking. And now, in a moment, the situation will be the other way around, I will have to talk and she will look down on me.

But why was I afraid? I wanted it myself. I always wanted everything to be clear between us and had dreams of my stepmother dominating me. So now I have a chance to explain everything to her. If I don't do it now, then when? After all, she won't learn about my intimate needs in any other way than through my honest confessions. Or maybe she already guesses, already knows, but now she's waiting for confirmation from me.

I finally got up from her thighs and sat down next to her. We looked deeply into each other's eyes with a smile on our faces.

"Are you up already, babe?" she asked, stroking my cheek with her right gloved palm. "I thought you would talk to me while lying on my thighs for a while? You would probably feel more comfortable under the caring hand of your loving stepmother." She still held the whip in her left hand, stroking it against the shaft of her boot and tapping it gently.

"Yes." I replied. "You know, I've come to the conclusion that what I want to tell you now, confess to you, requires me to act differently towards you right now."

"Differently? What do you mean, darling?" she asked, frowning slightly in surprise.

"Maybe it would be better if I show you and get straight to the point," I stood up from the couch and knelt down in front of her.

"Oh, honey," my stepmother put the whip back where I had been sitting a moment ago, grabbing my arms with her gloved hands and trying to get me to stand up. "Oh, please, you don't have to kneel in front of me. I know I've always been a strict stepmother to you and trained you to be an obedient son over the years, but you don't have to humiliate yourself to the point of kneeling in front of me, if you do not want to."

"I know I don't have to, but I love you very much and I have this inner need to kneel a little in front of you and tell you my most intimate desire, which I have never told anyone about, because basically I only have you and I can only tell it to you. Therefore, please let me kneel before you for a moment." I took her gloved palms in mine and kissed them tenderly.

"Oh, sweetheart, I really don't know what to say," my stepmother removed her hands from my embrace and cupped my cheeks tenderly. "In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would ever find myself in such a situation, that I would hear such nice words from the mouth of my beloved stepson, who would also be kneeling on his knees in front of me. Come, show your stepmother how much you love her." My stepmother pulled my face to hers and she forced me to kiss her.

It was neither a typical short sweet motherly kiss nor a long hot passionate one from a lover. Something in the middle, but more similar to the maternal one. We both knew that we needed kisses, but not the motherly ones, but the second ones, the passionate ones. Elizabeth needed them because, having been alone all her life without a man by her side, she was hungry for them. I needed them because as a twenty-year-old, without a girlfriend, I was just entering adult life with all its pleasures.

I could feel the sweetness from her lips, combined with the aroma of her perfume and the scent of the leather of her new gloves. The kiss ended with a loud smack and her giggling softly. Concerned about this, I asked, "I must have done something wrong because you're somehow laughing at me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, babe. No, nothing happened. You just had some of my lipstick left on your lips after the kiss. It looks funny. I would wipe it off, but I'm wearing gloves and... you know... I can't get them dirty."

So I thought I'd do it. I raised my hand to my mouth to wipe away the residue of my stepmother's kiss, but I felt her gloved hand grip mine tightly. "No, no. Don't wipe it off, please. You look so nice with it. That lipstick suits you." Elizabeth giggled again, covering her mouth with her gloved palm. "I hope my little boy isn't mad at his mommy for having fun at his expense, huh?"

"Of course not. You know that I've always wanted you to feel good in my presence, right?" I said reflexively, touching her booted calf, which she noticed. Just as I instinctively approached her leg, I instinctively withdrew my hand. "Oh, sorry," I added, embarrassed by all my out-of-control behavior.

Elizabeth didn't say anything. She just looked at me smiling with her motherly, loving eyes, the beauty of which was emphasized by the make-up and the delicate wrinkles that had appeared on her face some time ago. She must have already thought a lot of different things about me, not necessarily in my favor. I felt that my behavior betrayed my fondness. She reached back for the whip lying next to her and looked at it with admiration.

First, she checked its flexibility by bending it very slightly into an arc, and then, straightened, she directed it towards my face. "I hope you remember our agreement, honey. We still have a small conversation ahead of us. You probably have something to tell me, don't you?" she asked in a whisper, placing the tip of the riding crop under my chin and rubbing it.

"Yes mum," that was all I could afford. I couldn't cobble any sentences together. I was terrified of her, even though I knew I was in no danger from her. If she wants to hurt me physically, she will do it anyway, not even asking me for my opinion, but she will definitely do it with grace and a motherly touch. After all, I am her only beloved son (stepson).

"Maybe you'd like to get up off your knees and sit next to me? It would be more comfortable and you'd feel more confident talking to me, because I can see you're a little scared." My stepmother asked me as she moved the riding crop from under my chin to my right cheek.

"You know, mom, if it wasn't a problem for you, I would still like to kneel in front of you," I wonder how such words could come out of my mouth.

"I knew you would say that. Honestly, those were the words I wanted to hear from you, just what you just told me. I dreamed of you showing me how much you worship me and continuing to kneel in front of me. I like the way you kneel like that. You reminded me of the good old days when our stable boy would kneel in front of me like that.

"But you know... out of courtesy, I had to ask. I secretly hoped that maybe you would refuse me and wouldn't want to sit next to me. I'm glad you said no. As usual, you didn't disappoint me. Thank you for that." Here she came closer to me again and kissed me, hugging my neck with her free left gloved hand, which did not hold the whip.

"Mom, I wanted to thank you very much."

"You wanted to thank me? Hmmm. That's nice of you. May I know why? For letting you kneel in front of me?" she laughed.

"I wanted to thank you for having the honor of being your son and for being so good for me."

"Good for you? Hmmm. Interesting, my dear. You know that I have always been a strict stepmother to you and raised you with a firm hand, right? If you want to thank me for that, I must admit that it is a very nice gesture on your part," she said, stroking my cheek.

"Yes, just for that." I replied, taking her hand and kissing it in gratitude.

"There's something else you want to tell me, right? Something very intimate. I can see it in you. You can't hide it from me." Elizabeth continued stroking me.

"Yes. You know, I'm very glad that I could remind you at least a little of the old days, when you dominated your stable boy."

"Really? Uhhhm, yes hon, those were wonderful times. But you know, back then I was the real dominatrix. I was gorgeous, young, full of energy without complexes and I didn't have as many wrinkles on my face as I do now."

"Come on, mom. Your wrinkles are so delicate that they are almost invisible. Personally, I think they are not to your detriment, but add to your charm and make you the mature woman."

"Really? Hmmm... I didn't know."

"Yes. I think you are still the gorgeous, young, energetic dominatrix."

"Young?" she laughed, "My dear, I'm already fifty years old."

"Age has nothing to do with it. For me you will always be young, charming and attractive woman."

"Oh, thank you, sweety," Mom touched my cheek again with her free gloved palm and kissed me on the lips. "Thank you for talking so nicely about me. You are the only man I can count on. You say that I am the beautiful dominatrix. But you know, maybe I used to be the dominatrix, but now I probably won't be one."

"And why do you think so?"

My stepmother looked at the whip. She grabbed it in both her gloved palms and bent it slightly. "Baby, a real dominatrix, in order not to get out of practice, has to often use a whip, which is the tool that I am currently holding in my hands and that you are looking at. And as you can see, I only use it occasionally when I ride a horse, and that's besides it's just an unused prop that you can hang on a hook on the wall."

"However, I believe that you are definitely not out of practice yet, that there is still the nature of the real dominatrix in you, it just needs to be brought to life."

"Hmmm. You put it beautifully. You're a romantic, my dear. Who knows, maybe you're right. If I had the opportunity to try that whip you gave me for my birthday today on some man's bare ass, then we could find out. Only, that, you know... it's a problem to find the right candidate."

"I don't think there would be a problem with that, mom."

"I don't really understand, sweetie. What do you mean by that?"

"I think I know... I think we both know a certain young man who could use a good beating."

"We know? Who do you mean?"

"I mean myself, Mom."

There was silence. Elizabeth's jaw literally dropped with shock at what I said. She put the whip back on the empty place next to her on the sofa and gently grabbed my cheeks again with her gloved hands. She lifted my head so I could look straight into her eyes. I looked and saw her eyes full of anxiety on the one hand, but full of hidden desire to dominate me on the other.

"But how?" she finally spoke to me in a whisper, "Baby, you know it's impossible. You know I love you very much and I couldn't hurt you. Do you really want me to beat you? With a whip? Oh... I don't know what to think about it and how to behave with all this." My stepmother crossed her right leg over her left one.

"Mom, I know you love me. I love you too. I know you don't want to hurt me. And you won't, because we both want to experience this. Please, let's not miss this opportunity. Let's do it." I asked her, still kneeling on my already aching knees, then I lowered my head and tenderly kissed her right dangling booted foot.

"Oh..." she sighed "Uhhhm... when you kiss my boot like that, I immediately remember my stable boy. When he asked me for whips for the first time, he also knelt on his knees and kissed my boots. He liked it very much. And you? Would you enjoy kissing your stepmother's boots?"

"Yes, I would."

"Okay. So let's not delay any longer, just get to work and kiss them. Kiss them where my riding crop will show you."

My stepmother took the whip in her hand and began stroking the shafts of her boots with it. I started kissing them and followed the tip of the moving whip with my lips as it ran away from me, to show me where to kiss at that moment. The whip moved higher and higher along the shaft until it finally approached the place where the boot ends and the stocking begins.

I was a little nervous that if this continued, I would have to start kissing my stepmother's legs, starting from her knees. It's good that at least her velvety white skin will be separated from my lips by the thin material of tasteful beige stockings. On the other hand, it's a bit of a pity, because knowing the beauty of her legs, it would be an extremely erotic experience for me. I know because sometimes I have the opportunity to see her bare legs walking around the house.

However, my stepmother cleared my fears about further exploration of her body. "Okay. Enough of these pleasures, my dear." I felt the tip of the whip cracking under my chin. "I guess you've asked me enough for whips, so... maybe... I'll agree to your request. Would you like it?" The entire time I felt the touch of the riding crop under my chin, keeping my head tilted so that I could look Elizabeth in the eyes.

"Yes," I replied, looking into her lust-filled eyes. She placed the whip next to her and began to pull on her gloves seductively. Their size was exactly fitted to her hands. But she did it on principle to make me feel hornier. She already knew I had a fondness for them.

"Come closer to me, baby," I sensed a commanding tone in her voice. Slightly scared, I followed her order. "Don't be afraid, silly. I won't do anything to you. I just want to tell you something in your ear so that no one can hear." She was teasing me. We knew that no one would hear, because we were alone in the house anyway.

My stepmother grabbed my ear gently with her gloved palm, leaned towards me and began to whisper. I felt shivers run through me as her lips gently brushed against my ear as she spoke her words. "Dear, I've made up my mind. I'd love to whip you. But I don't want you to feel the pain at the very beginning. So first, let's say I stroke your butt gently with the whip. We'll see. If you like it and are resistant to pain, who knows...? Then, maybe...?

"What would you say if we moved to a cozier place? For example, downstairs to the laundry room. You know... I have nice memories from the past with this place. You would feel the same way my stable boy used to feel. Anyway... you are there almost every day when you do laundry, you know how cozy it is there, right?... So...?"

"Fine mom."

"Hmmm, I'm glad we understand each other." My stepmother leaned away from my ear to look at me for a few seconds, then kissed me again. This time, it was a long, passionate, hot kiss, ending with a loud smack. Elizabeth giggled again, just as she had during the previous kiss.

"What? Your lipstick again?" I asked, smiling at her.

"Yes. Again. Wait, I'll wipe it from your mouth now, but I have to take off my gloves so I don't get them dirty." My stepmother slowly began to take them off her hands. Because they were new, just like when putting them on, it was also more difficult to take them off her hands. "Hold them and I'll finally wipe my lipstick off your mouth," she said, amused, handing me her gloves to hold after taking them off. I took them in my hands with great reverence, as if they were some holy relics and not a piece of leather.

My stepmother put her index finger to my lips and wiped the lipstick from them. "Hmmm... that's a lot of it," she pointed out, smiling at me. "So what? Maybe we won't go any further and go to the laundry, right?" she asked, caressing my cheek with her hand, only this time she was no longer wearing the glove.

"Sure," I agreed eagerly. Elizabeth got up from the couch and I got up from my knees. I held her gloves in my hands the whole time, not knowing how to behave, whether to give them to her or wait until she decided to take them herself. This worried me a bit. Had she forgotten about them? I hope she puts them back on when we go to the laundry room. What if not? Then the spell will be broken. I guess I'll have to remind her. I decided to act.

"Mom?"

"Yes babe?"

"Listen... your gloves."

"My gloves?... What about them?"

"Well... nothing. It's just... you didn't take them back... you know... I thought... you know..." I didn't know how to finish my request so it wouldn't sound stupid.

My stepmother saved me from trouble. She guessed what I meant and burst out laughing. "You were probably going to ask me to put them back on, weren't you?"

"Well...actually yes."

"I know. You want me to wear gloves at all times, right? Even when we're down there in the laundry room. But don't be afraid, my dear. Of course I'll put them on. I read your mind and I agree with you. I can't imagine beating you with the whip without wearing boots and gloves. Then I wouldn't be the real dominatrix, and that's not what we want, right?"

"Well... I guess you wouldn't."

"Exactly. The point is for each of us to be satisfied. So don't be afraid. Your stepmother will definitely not forget about them and will put them on at the right moment. I think the right moment will be when we are downstairs together in the laundry room. But for now, I have to go wash my hands because they are dirty from my lipstick. So I'll go to the bathroom for a moment to make myself beautiful while I'm at it, and while you're at it, honey, go downstairs and get ready, okay?" Elizabeth said, taking the whip into her hand.

"Fine mom."

"Well, now give me these gloves of mine and hurry downstairs, and mom will be with you in a moment, okay?" she said, hitting my ass twice lightly with the whip, rushing me away. "Oh, when you get downstairs, so as not to waste any more time, strip down to your underpants and wait for me."

Elizabeth disappeared into the bathroom again like she did an hour before dinner, and I headed to the laundry room. As I was going down the stairs, my heart was pounding like a hammer from what was about to happen. I wondered what the stable boy must have felt when he went down like I do now. How he must have felt when he heard orders from the dominatrix to go undress and wait. Especially since he went down there very often and had to satisfy three dominatrixes.

Even though the laundry room was on the underground floor, it was very clean and cozy. Not large in terms of surface area and volume. Just right to accommodate only the necessary laundry items, i.e. a washing machine, a dryer for drying laundry, shelves for detergents, etc.

The laundry room was always cozy, always a comfortable temperature all year round. The only small window was just above the ground and facing north, so basically the room never saw natural sunlight and had to be artificially lit even during the day. The lighting was a set of ceiling halogen lamps, which gave subdued, pleasant light of medium intensity and warm color.

The floor and entire walls were covered with expensive, high-quality ceramic tiles, the quality of which would be the envy of many stylish modern bathrooms. The ceiling was snow-white, filled with halogen lamps as I mentioned above. If it weren't for the fact that there was a washing machine and laundry-related items there, one might think that it was just another ordinary living room.

What was always interesting to me was that in the laundry room, in the corner, against the wall, there was a white couch. It was an ordinary couch that can be found in every doctor's office. Somehow I never asked my stepmother mother what this piece of furniture was used for, as it had to be in the laundry room. Now, after what she told me today, I know what its goal was.

I was already imagining how the stable boy had to lie on top of it and receive beatings. I often sit on this couch when I come to do laundry and, to be honest, it is a very uncomfortable piece of furniture. Well, who would then care about the stable boy's comfort when the women dominating him caused him more pain by spanking his ass.

Sitting on this couch while doing laundry, I would never have expected that this particular piece of furniture was used for such perverse practices. I wonder what it will be like for me in a moment. I'm starting to get a little scared.