Mother Daughter Bondong

It was a breezy summer evening in Chennai where Meenatchi lived in a cozy two bedroom house with her eighteen years old daughter Vishali. Vishal had become a bit rebellious lately to her mother's liking and Meenatchi has had enough of it.

"Vishali, enough is enough," said Meenatchi in a firm voice.

"This kind of attitude won't be tolerated any more."

Meenatchi was in her early forties and had a dusky complexion with sharp features. She wore a deep red saree, with Gold bangles on her wrists, and a small bindi between her eyebrows. Her hair was tied into a bun.

Vishali stood in front of her mother, her arms crossed across her chest. She was wearing a simple cotton salwar kameez, over her slim frame, and a pair of white leggings.

"Amma, I'm not a child anymore! You can't control me like that always!" Vishali replied, raising her voice.

But Meenatchi had made up her mind.

"Enough talking, Vishali, you left me no choice. You should learn a lesson the hard way."

Vishali's eyes widened as her mother got up and walked to the wooden cabinet, and pulled out a thin rattan cane which Vishali had seen once a few times during her childhood.

"Amma... no, please..." Vishali pleaded with a mix of fear and shame.

"This is for your own good," Meenatchi replied.

"Remove your clothes, Vishali, now."

Vishali froze and her hands started trembling in disbelief.

"Amma, please... don't make me..."

"Now, Vishali." Meenatchi stood firm.

Vishali slowly started to obey as she unwrapped the scarf from her shoulders slowly and let it fall to the floor. Then, with trembling hands, she reached for the hem of her kameez and pulled it over her head. Her plain white bra that clung to her small, perky breasts. She hesitated for a few seconds before sliding down her leggings and stood in just her undergarments, a simple white cotton panties and a matching bra as her dusky skin gleamed under the soft lighting.

She felt awkward, exposed and vulnerable as her arms instinctively moved to cover herself.

"Turn around," Meenatchi instructed.

Vishali complied and faced the wall as she could feel her mother's eyes on her bare back.

Meenatchi raised the cane with deliberate movements.

"This is for all the times you've disobeyed me," she said.

She brought the cane down swiftly and it landed with a sharp crack across Vishali's backside.

"Ah!" Vishali gasped as her body jolted from the sting.

Another strike followed, and then another. Vishali bit her lip each time, trying to suppress her pain. The cane left faint red marks on her smooth skin, each, a reminder of her disobedience.

"Amma, I'm sorry," Vishali pleaded, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Meenatchi paused for a moment.

"I only do this because I love you, Vishali. I want you to grow up right." Her voice was tender.

After a few more strikes, Meenatchi took a step back and Vishali stood there, silent. Slowly, she turned to face her mother, her eyes in tears.

Meenatchi approached her daughter and her fingers gently lifted Vishali's chin.

"Now you understand, don't you?" she asked softly.

Vishali nodded, unable to speak.

"Good girl," Meenatchi said.

Vishali stood there, vulnerable and exposed in her simple white bra and matching panties. Meenatchi, despite the strictness of the moment, couldn't help but admire her daughter's youthful beauty.

"You are growing up so fast, Vishali. I see a beautiful woman in you."

Meenatchi took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"You're at an age where you need to understand both boundaries and freedom. It's important for you to feel confident in your own skin."

She reached out and brushed her fingers against the straps of Vishali's bra.

"When we embrace who we are and in that we find strength."

With that, she slowly released the strap, and allowed it to slide off Vishali's shoulder.

Vishali's breath hitched and her heart raced.

With a gentle tug, she let the other strap down, letting the bra fall away. Vishali could feel a rush of vulnerability, her small and firm breasts now exposed.

"See how beautiful you are?" Meenatchi said.

Vishali's hands instinctively moved to cover herself, but Meenatchi caught her wrists.

"No, darling. Let yourself be seen."

Meenatchi gently let her fingers glide along Vishali's arms, with her eyes traced every inch of her daughter's frame. Her fingers then moved down to brush the side of Vishali's waist, causing Vishali to shiver. She gently carred Vishali's bosoms and had a good feel of her flesh, and squeezed a nipples gently making Vishali flinch.

Next her fingers rested on the waistband of Vishali's white cotton panties, making Vishali's heart race even faster.

"You've always been so shy, but you don't need to hide from me." Said Meenatchi.

Slowly, she held onto the waistband and slid the fabric down over her daughter's hips.

Vishali felt the cool breeze against her bare skin, as her mother's eyes were still on her. Her hands moved down brushing her pubes gently.

"You're perfect just as you are," Meenatchi said.

She pulled Vishali to a life size mirror.

"See for yourself," she said.

Vishali looked at the image reflected back from the mirror which made her feel even more exposed. She had seen her own reflection a thousand times before, but never like this.

"You are truly a beautiful woman," Meenatchi said.

"Go get ready for bed".