Mother Goose: Little Bo Peep

Author's Note: This story contains light BDSM elements. Enjoy!

----------

No one ever gets these things right.

Yes, Mother Goose—that's me! What threw you off—the garters and stockings and black leather whip? Like I said, no one ever gets these things right. Father Goose says they've twisted all my stories around, and according to the books he brought home with him after he crossed back over, they all claim I never existed at all! I guess, historically speaking, that's true. I never did exist in that world. From what I hear, it's dreadfully dull. I'm sure I would just be bored. It's probably better that the real stories never made it out. I don't know that the Earthfolk were ready for them.

Little Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep

And can't tell where to find them.

Leave them alone,

And they'll come home,

Wagging their tails behind them.

"Peep!" The voice shook the room and the startled girl looked up as Mother came in. "Do you know where your sheep are now?"

"No, Mother." The girl looked up from her position, kneeling on the floor, her blue eyes wide. "I penned them before I left, I swear it."

Mother Goose came toward her, the high heels of her long, soft, black leather boots clicking on the floor. She squatted down before Peep, whose hands were bound behind her to her feet with pink satin sashes.

"You are a pretty little one," Mother said, lifting the girl's chin and studying her face. Mother's eyes moved over the girl's body, the pink and white corset drawn tight, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, partially hiding Peep's rosy little nipples. "Sometimes I think you're just playing dumb."

"No, Mother," Peep implored, shaking her head. "I penned them, I promise you."

"Is that so?" Mother asked, standing again. Peep looked up Mother's long legs, encased in black fishnet stockings and garters, the dark triangle between her legs exposed, as it always was, for easy access.

Mother had taken to wearing black since Father had crossed over, and although her mood had ever been changeable, lately she seemed more often irate and hard to please. Mother tapped her toe in front of Peep's knee, folding her arms over her ample breasts that were pushed up high in her black corset. They were covered with the sheer, lace peignoir that she always wore, unbuttoned to the floor.

"Mother, please," Peep pleaded. "I will go tend them, if you let me."

Mother walked over to the cabinet and the girl moaned, the sound caught halfway between regret and anticipation. "I think we need a little correction, don't you?" Mother's voice drifted over her shoulder as she chose a small cat o'nine tails from her collection.

"Please," Peep pleaded again, her eyes downcast. "I'll be a good girl."

"Yes," Mother murmured, coming to caress her cheek with a soft hand. "You will."

Mother reached behind the girl and began untying the pink satin ribbon that bound her. Peep sighed in relief, rolling her tired shoulders once her arms were free. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees as Mother began to untie her feet, but then the older woman stopped.

"No... this is good," Mother said, tightening the sashes at the girl's ankles, chuckling. "Turn around, Little Bo Peep, who's lost her sheep, and doesn't know were to find them."

Peep did as she was told, turning her face toward the wall on her knees, using her hands to slowly work herself around. She felt Mother's hand caressing her ass and she shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the older woman. Mother was squatting down behind her, beginning to drip the thin, countless straps of the cat o'nine tails over Peep's behind like a little leather waterfall.

"Peep's little puss," Mother whispered, parting the dark blonde fuzz with her fingers to peer in at the pink treasure. "I love peeping at Peep's little puss." Mother giggled, wiggling her fingers through and finding the girl's clit.

"Oh, Mother!" Peep moaned, lifting her bottom in the air as much as she could with her feet tied together at the ankles.

"That's right, Peep," Mother encouraged, with her finger and her voice. The girl's clit was swollen and pulsing. "You like it so much, don't you?"

Peep nodded, glad her long blonde hair was covering her red, flushed face. Mother's fingers were rubbing there, making her moan with pleasure. Peep's little puss was incredibly responsive, her lips swelling, the pink color deepening to a rosier shade.

"You've been a naughty shepherdess, haven't you, Peep?" Mother asked, standing behind her. The girl nodded, her blonde hair falling in waves over the stone floor. She felt the first blow from the cat o'nine tails, a soft "lop," with just a little sting. She twisted and squirmed.

"Oh, Mother, please," Peep whispered. Her pussy was still throbbing from the older woman's attention.

"Yes, tell me." Another blow, harder now, more "thwap" this time, and then another. Mother waited.

"I lost my sheep," the girl sobbed, feeling another blow, and then another. Her bottom felt hot. She cried out as she took three more stings from the cat o'nine tails in quick succession. "Oh, Mother! Please!"

But the older woman was catching a rhythm, now, and Peep could hear her working hard. She lashed the girl again and again, until Peep's bottom felt red and raw and huge, and her pussy—it was on fire, throbbing with longing. She hid her shamed face behind her curtain of hair, her tears falling onto the stone floor.

"Now, are you going to find those sheep, Miss Peep?" Mother asked, grabbing the girl by the hair and pulling her head back, looking down at her tear-stained face. Peep nodded, moaning softly, looking dazed, her eyes glassy. "But first, you are going to do penance, aren't you? On your knees."

Peep nodded, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. "Yes, Mother."

Mother moved in front of her, leaning back against the wall. "Up, Peep," she instructed, using the girl's hair to pull her fully to her knees. Peep sat up, looking up at her with big, wide eyes. "You know what to do."

Peep leaned forward, parting her pussy lips with her tongue. Mother was very wet, and the girl found her clit and began to suck and lick it, knowing just what the older woman liked, running lazy circles at first and then moving her tongue back and forth along the hooded button.

Mother moaned, rubbing her palms over her own dark nipples, pulling at them, twisting them. She ground her pussy against the girl's face, using her tongue, her juices spilling down her chin and throat. Peep whimpered when Mother slipped a hand behind her neck, pulling her in tighter. She tried to keep her nose clear, moving her tongue faster and faster over the woman's clit, feeling her writhe and wriggle.

"Good girl," Mother moaned, moving her hips in circles now, too. Her hand was tired of holding Peep's neck and she reached out and grabbed the girl's crooked staff leaning against the wall, a little pretty pink and white be-ribboned thing. Mother hooked the staff around Peep's neck, and the girl gasped, feeling herself being drawn deeper into the older woman's wetness.

Peep could barely breathe, but she didn't stop, not for a moment, keeping her lapping tongue focused right over Mother's clit. Her own pussy was throbbing, and she longed to touch it, but she knew that Mother would be angry. She squeezed her legs together, the smell and sight and sound of pussy all around her—she was drowning in it.

"Ohhh!" Mother cried out, and Peep felt the crooked staff pull her up tight by neck, shoving her even more deeply against mother's slick flesh, if that was possible. "Yes, yes, that's good, make Mother cum in your mouth."

And she did, her body a shaking, quivering torrent as she flooded Peep's mouth with her juices. Mother leaned there for a moment, her chest heaving, loosening her grip on the staff. Peep tilted her face up to her, her tongue stuck out completely, the tip poised right at Mother's clit, just like she was taught.

Mother smiled, patting the girl's head. "No, doll. Not another for Mother. But maybe a pet for Peep?"

The girl's eyes brightened, and her pussy quivered. Mother walked around the girl, bending down to untie her ankles. She gave her a hand up, leading Peep over to the huge, high bed in the middle of the room.

"On your knees," Mother instructed, watching Peep crawl forward into the bed. The girl stayed near the edge, back on her hands and knees. "Ohhhh, look at Peep's little puss," she murmured, and she slapped it with her bare hand, making the girl gasp and cry out. "You like it, don't you, pet? You're so wet!"

Peep moaned, spreading her legs a little wider, arching her back. Mother chuckled, slipping two fingers into her, easily—she was like butter. She moved her fingers in and out of the girl's wetness, turning her fingers as she did, and Peep met her motion, rocking back with her hips.

"Tell Mother," the older woman whispered, leaning down to kiss her round, pink bottom.

"Yes!" Peep moaned when Mother touched her clit, finding it with her thumb and rubbing. "Oh, Mother, yes, I love it, I love it, I do!"

She was rewarded as Mother's hand drove into her harder, faster, digging deep. They were both breathing hard, working hard, Peep's hands clenched into fists as she grasped the bedcovers, her pink toes curling. Mother smiled, using her other hand and slipping one wet fingertip into the girl's exposed rosebud, her asshole tight.

"Ohhhhhhh!" Peep's whole body stiffened as she came, the force of it pressing her further back against Mother, driving every inch of mother's fingers into her orifices as she bucked and thrashed and moaned. She collapsed onto the bed, forgetting herself, still shivering.

Mother watched her for a moment, the flushed cheeks, the round, rosy ass, the cinched waist, her corset heaving with her breath, and then she licked her fingers, smelling Peep on them. "You do need to find those sheep, pet," she reminded her.

Peep sat up, nodding, moving to stand. Her limbs were tingling and shaky from being tied up. "Yes, Mother. I will find them and put them in their pen for the night."

"Good girl," Mother said, caressing her cheek. Mother sat on the bed and watched Peep fetch her dress and shoes and crook and then walk unsteadily out the door.

When she was gone, Mother called, "Willie!" The little man came in, bowing to Mother as he entered. "Willie, Mother needs a bath."

He nodded again, turning to go, and she called, "Oh, and Willie? Come here." He advanced toward the bed and waited. His head only came up to the top of the mattress and he stood looking up at her.

She patted the top of his head, smiling. "Wee Willie Winkie," she murmured, chucking him under the chin. "Do remember to go out there tomorrow morning and let those sheep out of their pen, won't you, darling?"

He nodded, smiling, his eyes bright. "Yes, Mother."