"Oh" Submission Town: A Mother Falls
Summary:
Wholesome MILF gets pulled into submission by domme daughter.
Note 1:
This is a Christmas 2012 Contest Story so please vote.
Note 2:
The story is dedicated to Chuck who sent me the original idea for this story.
Note 3:
Thanks to
Mab7991
and
LaRascasse
for editing this work.
"Oh" Submission Town: A Mother Calls
Kimberly Martin was not used to it being so quiet in her house. As the wife of a Minister, she had a very full schedule that either had her out and about in the small community of Spring Creek, at home doing her many household chores, that her old fashioned husband referred to as woman's work, or at home fighting with her eighteen year old daughter, Cinthia, who had been a hellion for years, but who had become particularly worse since turning eighteen a few weeks ago.
Actually, the house was particularly quiet since Cinthia had stormed out of the house after another argument about her risqué fashion sense. She had come downstairs dressed in a plaid skirt so short the top of her white thigh high stockings were completely visible, with a white blouse that was so see-through Kimberly could see her daughter's black bra.
"You are not going out dressed like that," the forty-two year old mother said, as she stopped decorating the tree that she was suppose to be doing with her daughter and not alone.
"Like what?" Cinthia asked, acting as if such an outfit was perfectly normal.
"Like a harlot," the pretty, but conservative mom replied.
The eighteen year old daughter, who was the spitting image of her mom, laughed, "Really, Mother, harlot, can we at least get in the right century?"
"Don't use that tone with me young lady," a growingly frustrated Kimberly responded.
"What tone?" Cinthia shrugged, being sure to add tone to her question, before adding, as if her Mother had no say in the decision, "Tommy and I are going out."
"Not in that, not dressed like a...," the mother paused unsure what word to choose.
"Like a what, Mother?" Cinthia asked with a challenging glare.
"Like a slut," Kimberly finally blurted out.
"Are you calling me a slut?" the daughter questioned, the tension in the room growing instantly.
"No, my dear," the mother replied, her hair in a bun, hiding just how pretty she could be with her hair down, said, "It's just...."
"Now am I, a dear or a slut, Mother?" Cinthia snapped, her anger bubbling over.
Regretting her word choice, Kimberly tried to rephrase, "Please Cinthia. We have an image to uphold for your Father`s sake."
"Fuck Mom," Cinthia exploded, "Everything is about our image. I am sick of the facade we have to endure in this fucking God awful town."
The mother was shocked. Sure they had fought, more frequently as her only daughter got older, and since her only son, Ben had left for college, but Cinthia had never before swore in her presence and had never used the Lord's name in vain. The stunned mother's own anger exploded, "That is enough young lady. Do not swear in our house and don't you ever use the Lord's name in vain, is that clear?"
Cinthia's next words were poisonous. "Yes, for God fucking sakes, could you fucking imagine if people in the community knew that the Minister's daughter was some fucking cheap slut and that the Minster and his wife are in a sham of a fucking marriage? Holy shit, the fabric of our town would crumble right before our eyes, wouldn't it Mommy dearest?" As she finished a smile crossed her face as if she had some deep dark secret.
Before Kimberly knew what she was doing, she slapped her daughter in the face.
Instantly the mother was apologizing, "I-I-I am so sorry. I can't believe I just did that."
Instead of feeling offended, Cinthia seemed relieved. She smiled and said, "Well, good to know there is some emotion behind the pretentious perfection you exude in front of everyone."
"Cinthia, please let's talk like two mature women," the mother, near tears, pleaded.
"Ok, Mom. When was the last time dad fucked you?" Cinthia asked, smiling, knowing she had
long ago crossed the line.
"Cinthia!" Kimberly gasped at the shocking question.
"Mom, even though you try to hide it with your hair in a bun, conservative blouses, long skirts, dresses and no make-up. You are very beautiful. Stop hiding your sexuality, Mom. It is 2012, not 1955," Cinthia said, her tone no longer angry, but sincere.
Kimberly was weakened by the rare compliment of her looks, before she could respond she heard a car honking.
"That is Tommy," Cinthia said, leaning in and kissing her mom on the cheek, before adding, "I'll be home by midnight."
Cinthia started to leave and Kimberly tried to be the one in control. "Do not leave this house, young lady."
Cinthia stopped, turned around and said, "And what are you going to do to stop me?"
The words every parent dreads, the utter defiance and the moment when you know that you can't win.
"That's what I thought, Mommy," Cinthia said smiling, using the word 'Mommy' condescendingly. "Just like with Father, you are submissive. Now be a good Mommy and go finish putting up the tree and then clean my room." Patting her mother on the cheek, Cinthia turned and left through the front door.
Tears flooded her eyes as the defeated mother stood there devastated by the treatment of her daughter, the utter disrespect and at the accusation of her being submissive. After a moment, Kimberly moved robotically to the tree and continued the lonely job of putting up the family Christmas tree by herself.
As the mother did as she was expected, she wished her husband was home. There is no way Cinthia would have walked out of the house dressed like that if he was home. She never considered herself submissive, but rather just a faithful wife who did the duties a stereotypical 'woman who stays at home' does. In reflection, Robert was a very demanding man, stern, but fair. With Robert, there was only black and white, never any shade of grey in between. Yet, Robert would not be home for a few days as he was giving a special sermon at the biggest church in Tennessee and then staying for a few days for a big religious conference where he was the closing keynote.
Kimberly finished putting up the tree which had always been a special tradition for herself and her children. Kimberly went up to clean her daughter's room but stopped, she began shaking her head as she thought to herself, 'What am I doing? I am doing exactly what she told me to.'
Kimberly instead returned downstairs and seated herself at the table in the rectory dining room. Kimberly was in charge of almost every fundraiser for the church and the upcoming annual Christmas pageant was no different. She sighed thinking about how predictable her life had become, something she had not considered before the harsh accusations of her daughter. She spent the next hour organizing things for the upcoming pageant: she called and chatted with Mrs. Weber who was in charge of the show itself and somehow ended up agreeing to be the virgin Mary; she called Mrs. Addleton to confirm food was all organized and ended up agreeing to make her famous beef stew; she called Mr. Hamilton about the hall and ended up agreeing to pick up more Christmas lights for the show. She quickly decided no more calls as her workload kept increasing with each call.
'Am I submissive?' Kimberly thought to herself. Everyone just expects I will do what they ask: my husband, my daughter, the community. She was suddenly frustrated and was about to call it quits for the evening when she remembered Mr. Hamilton mentioning that the special hand carved chest that had been used in all of the pageants, the one held by one of the three kings could not be found when they had done an inventory. It was a lovely piece and she recalled seeing it not too long ago in the church basement in one of the storage rooms. She thought about leaving it till tomorrow, but she was rather anal about things. Still wide-awake after her fight with her daughter and knowing she wouldn't sleep well until she at least checked if it was there.
Outside it had just finished snowing and the town looked beautiful with fresh snow. Kimberly decided to walk the three blocks instead of driving to enjoy the fresh winter air. Seldom had she just walked around at night and enjoyed the calm beauty of the town. Every house had Christmas decorations on their front lawn and lights on their homes; she smiled as she began to sing, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."
The three-block stroll took over twenty minutes as Mrs. Martin just admired the houses, chatted with Mr. and Mrs. Smith who were out for a walk themselves, and just enjoyed the freedom of being alone.
When she arrived at the church, Kimberly found the door locked and sighed as she realized she had not brought her keys. The church never used to be locked, until an unfortunate incident a few months ago where it had been vandalized in the middle of the night. She was about to turn back and go home when she noticed the lights were on in the basement. She wondered if someone was downstairs, probably looking for the chest just as she was about to do, and decided to go take a peek.
There were fresh footprints in the snow leading to the back door and sure enough, it was unlocked. Kimberly went inside, took off her snow covered boots and went downstairs. As she reached the bottom she was about to say hello, when she heard grunts and moans coming from the far back room. The one used for marriage counselling usually. She was suddenly extremely anxious and slowly tiptoed to the door that was slightly ajar.
As the curious Minister's wife slowly looked inside, her mouth dropped open and she had to cover her mouth to keep from gasping at what she was seeing. On the table used to discuss the sanctity of marriage was her daughter, naked except for her blouse and she was clearly having sex with Tommy Chase, her bad boy boyfriend that Robert greatly disapproved of. Only the Mother, Caroline, came to church, neither her slimy car salesman husband, nor their only son Tommy ever came to the Sunday services.
