Author's note:
These are the last two chapters I have finished and published years ago.
I will now continue with the story, next chapter being the lap dance teacher.
As I have to write that one, and also must have it proof read etc, it might take a bit longer.
Wrt the comments... I have noticed some weird comments with people who do not like the story and the story-line. I do not know why you would continue to read my story? It is not a must...
The comments which point to some logical mistakes etc: I really like those. I try to make this fake world as realistic as possible ( impossible I know) , so I take these into consideration as the story goes along.
The comments about typos are also greatly appreciated: when you write you sometimes just read what is not there. My proof reader(s) usually get most of the garbage out of the way.
Enjoy the story and do comment, it's a free world
Bokkey
*
The whore teacher
Donna sat at the kitchen table taking a break from her morning duties. She had still so much to do! She looked at her nails to check if she had done them correctly. She had done so five times already in the last minute alone, but she kept forgetting. Her mind couldn't hold anything anymore; she was so desperate for sleep.
And as she sat in the chilly kitchen, she had to constantly rub herself as both her holes itched terrible. She never had had it this bad. Both holes were flaming red. It had to be some kind of infection, due to the all-night buggering.
And as she thought about it her hand had to slip inside her vagina again. At the same time, she rubbed her ass over the chair-seating, so her butt plug scratched her inner ass hole roughly. How would she get through the day feeling like this?
Donna looked at herself. The whip marks were still visible, even though her skin was drenched in southing oil. Her white lace corset was ok. She pulled up her white stockings for the umpteenth time.
"I Must watch out not to tear them." Donna reminded herself again.
She looked out of the kitchen. Had she cleaned the living room already? She vaguely thought she had done so.
"And what time is it anyway?" She looked for a clock.
---
"Hi mom."
Donna's face immediately turned red as Trixy walked in. Quickly she stopped rubbing on the chair and removed her hand from her vagina, only to reveal her glimmering fingers as they grabbed her coffee mug.
Yet Trixy seemed indifferent to her mother's actions, as she simply passed her by to fetch herself a drink. Not even the wardrobe Donna was given to wear seemed to surprise her daughter.
Ninon had Donna dressed up like a nineteenth century whore, right after she was released from the terrible machine. The outfit even included vintage cancan shoes with wooden soles. Surely, it must be ridiculous to see your own mother in a corset, with a large ribbon knot at the back, no panties, though that was not visible, and stockings with a vintage garter belt.
Add to it the layers of make up on Donna's face, the large false dark black eye lashes, her pushed up curled hair with the fake small satin flowers and ribbons in it. Even the make-up on her nipples, be it they were mostly hidden behind the tight corset. It all must shock her daughter just a little bit?
Yet, despite all this, there was no real response from Trixy, and that made it worse for Donna. Her daughter accepted this all from her, was probably convinced she was doing this out of her own sheer depravity. And if her own daughter believed it...
"Look, she's turning red." Ninon was accompanying Trixy. "She's so lost right now."
And that was true. Donna was lost, completely lost. She was tired, exhausted, her pussy and ass were controlling her thoughts constantly.
And she didn't want to think, cause if she did her mind was flooding with images of all her actions lately, making her feel so ashamed, so low.
Above that she had so much to do still. Her day schedule was packed with things to do. She had it difficult enough to keep focused on those alone.
And so, Donna figured she should just focus on her warm coffee once again. She still had to clean the rest of the house, she had an appointment with her teacher, she had to go to work... The only bright spot was the spa afterwards, though her whip marks would raise eye-browse.
"You're ok, mom?" Trixy said, as she joined her mother at the kitchen table.
"Yes..." Donna replied scarily. She watched Ninon looking at her expectantly "... Ms. Trixy."
"I love it when she says that." Trixy told Ninon excited.
Donna just smiled meekly and forced another gulp of coffee down her throat. At least somebody was happy. She needed to get a clear mind. There definitely would be no help from Trixy, she understood. Maybe Lisa...?
"Good morning." Lisa walked in and also sat down at the kitchen table. She glimpsed coldly at her mother, and then just ignored her.
"So much for her help." Donna figured and took another gulp.
"Lisa, we have a meeting now with the psychiatrist, regarding the issue in front of us." Trixy informed Lisa.
"Why?" Lisa asked, sounding all too indifferent.
"You're serious?" Trixy responded, hinting with her eyes at the dressed-up Donna.
Donna watched the conversation that took place as if she wasn't there. It amazed her how quickly her whole world had turned around. Not only were her actions not hidden anymore from her daughters, but she felt like she now had lost all control over them too.
And Donna was not able to fight for control also. The look of Lisa, it hurt her deep. She had lost all respect from her, and rightfully so. Donna was so ashamed of what had happened last night in Lisa's room. And how could she follow that up with dressing this ridiculous? Even she couldn't understand herself anymore!
The kiss of Trixy's hand was also still clear in Donna's mind. Why had she done that? Actually, she knew the answer; she wanted desperately to please her tormentors, and she knew showing her submission to her daughters would please them. And Trixy's hand seemed to have been placed there to be kissed. It had felt natural, given the circumstances.
"But those circumstances themselves were ridiculous..." She reminded herself.
Yet Donna was just overwhelmed by a feeling she indeed was lower than her daughters. They didn't let their worlds fall apart as she let hers. They saw right from wrong still clearly, they were still behaving normally.
That was why Donna desperately wanted to speak to the psychiatrist too. She needed her help to keep it all together. In all, Donna had so much worries on her mind to go through with her. Even if she would, most likely, give answers Donna wouldn't like nor understand.
And damn that itch! It just wouldn't go away. She started to gently rock the chair again.
"I thought it best to call her in, since your mother's behavior lately has degenerated." Ninon explained to Lisa, "She'll be here any moment."
She bent over and whispered into Donna's ear; "And you have your own meeting with your teacher."
Donna tried to recall her schedule of the day again. She had to meet with someone new again, her 'whore' teacher. Whatever that entailed.
Luckily the doorbell finally saved Donna from her current ordeal.
"That's the psychiatrist." Ninon said, "Let's meet with her in the garden, then your mother can clean up here and in the living room... and maybe herself."
Hadn't she already cleaned the living room? Donna looked confused into the room. She saw a whip, but she did feel her Ben Wah balls inside her; she had picked those up. Her itch was killing her again, distracting her mind. If her daughters left, she had to first scratch herself thoroughly, again.
"You'll clean the dishes, right mom?" Trixy asked playfully.
Donna knew she was trying her out again; Ninon had just left and was at the door letting her psychiatrist in, so it was just between them now. And it was both her daughter's duty to clean the dishes in the weekends and during vacation times, as was cleaning the house for that matter.
But Donna felt those rules couldn't apply anymore: "Yes, Ms. Trixy, I'll do the dishes."
"You see, it does have its benefits." Trixy said happily to Lisa.
Lisa said nothing, but Donna knew how much she hated to do the dishes. She knew Lisa was happy she didn't have to do any chores this morning. And Donna hoped that might somehow change her hostile attitude a little. She actually feared it; nothing good could come from an angry teenager out of control.
Donna finished her mug with coffee, as the others went into the cold back garden. She wondered how much coffee she already had drunk. It just didn't seem to work. However, finally alone, she did enjoy the liberty of scratching herself unceremoniously once again.
"Owww, that feels so good!" She whispered to herself. She also felt herself being aroused again, but she didn't want to bring herself off. She would not let her body rule her mind.
Finally, she forced herself to get up and clean the living room. As she did so, she saw the group outside talking. To her surprise Bridgette was also there. She recalled that all the sessions she had to be present, but she hadn't seen her pass by. What would they tell her now? And what would Bridgette in turn tell their mutual friends?
She bent down to pick up the whip that was left there, and a collection of dildos she didn't even know she had. Let alone that they had been used on her yesterday. The stains in the white carpet were a problem; the wooly carpet was ruined, just like Lisa's upstairs. She tried to scrub some places but knew it was useless and soon gave up.
"Another expense on the list." She sighed, as she wondered how on earth she was going to pay for new carpets.
As time passed, she saw the debate outside getting heated, with Lisa and Bridgette clearly disagreeing with the others. What lies were they told right now? And how difficult would it be for her to live those lies? She sat on her knees on the carpet and started to whimper a little out of sheer self-pity.
Just then the doorbell rang. All eyes outside focused on Donna in the center of the living room, on her knees amid a collection of dildos. Could she give any 'better' wrong message to her children, to Bridgette?
And the doorbell just rang on. The person at the door was obviously impatient. Donna ashamed smiled politely to the group outside, and hurried to the door, glad to be out of view.
---
"I don't like waiting in the cold, honey." A strange lady said, as she brushed Donna aside and stepped into the warm house.
