The Whip Or The Vibrator Ch. 15

Introduction: This story is inspired by and in tribute to some of the women of this site who go in for the edgier and more extreme kinks and fetishes. I hope they appreciate it.

Brief Recap: CapCunt is coming to terms with being branded as a slave, and growing into her role as a mentor for Kit-5 & PonyTail. Kit-5 is getting married. Is it a time of endings and new beginnings?

Chapter Fifteen - The Final Chapter

Kit-5 started communicating with me after that. Really communicating. I got regular updates, and was even invited to the wedding. She and I kept up our communication with PonyTail too, and PonyTail was there as well. After the reception that night, I even took PonyTail out for a rendezvous with a couple of Kit-5's former Doms that she recommended. They had a lot of fun making us eat each other out between whipping and fucking.

As I flew back home that Sunday, I reflected on such a beautiful weekend, and these two wonderful young women I'd met...in the back of a van in an airport, of all places. I really had developed maternal feelings for Kit-5 and PonyTail. I cared for them in ways that I cared for my own daughters.

My own daughters...

Over the next few weeks, my thoughts kept centering on my daughters. My youngest was a junior in college now, and my oldest had gotten married just a few years earlier, right before my husband and I finally gave up the pretense of marriage. I thought about Kit-5 and PonyTail, and their exceedingly deviant desires, and mine too, which were kept hidden inside for so many years. I wondered if the intensity of my experiences, and the risks I took, were due in part to those long decades of denial. And if I had these needs...

...Why couldn't my daughters as well?

And then the penny dropped for me. I was lazing on a Sunday morning that turned into an afternoon after a night of intense domination, browsing through F*t, when I came upon a profile that made the blood freeze in my veins.

The profile was from a young woman in Chicago, going to school there. There were Chicago groups in her group list, and Indianapolis groups. She was the same age as my daughter. Her fetishes were eerily close to mine, and she belonged to a lot of the same groups, like Graphic Rape Play Stories, Nonconsensual Consent, and Darker Side of Erotica. And the final nail in this coffin? She had a handful of blurry filtered body photos. No faces. But from what I was seeing, this could easily be my youngest daughter.

I had no proof this her. All these parallels could easily be coincidence. There were plenty of women who had this need to be dominated, plenty whose needs went even darker than that, plenty of women in Indianapolis going to Chicago for school...it wasn't necessarily my daughter.

But what if it was?

Even if it was, maybe it was none of my business. My daughters were both adults now. What they did was their own business. But then I thought of the pain of keeping my desires so hidden for decades, feeling I was only living part of a life. Had I been all I could be as a mother, by keeping these things so hidden? Did it mean some frank conversations that could have helped them as teenagers growing up never happened? Would some frank conversations from Kit-5 and PonyTail's mothers have helped them? Sure, I'd had the standard sex talk with them when they were entering their teen years. But I now looked upon that as wholly inadequate.

These thoughts wouldn't let me go, and I'd learned from experience that when that happens, I can't ignore it. I need to do something about it.

My eldest daughter lived in another suburb closer to Indianapolis. They just had their first daughter, and she and her husband both work in the city. Getting together with her was easy enough. I invited myself over the next weekend to offer up a night of babysitting when they went out. I'm sort of proud and not so proud of this next part. I hacked into her laptop and browsed her surfing history. Nothing there. Okay. That didn't necessarily mean anything. She could have confined the sort of thing I was looking for to her phone, which she kept on her.

Finding an opportunity like that with my youngest daughter would be much harder, since she lived in Chicago now for the most part. No, it was time to do something bolder, riskier, like actually talking to them. I thought about meeting with them individually, but then I decided to do it all together. We were in this all together, weren't we?

The next time my youngest daughter was back from school, I invited myself over to my eldest daughter's house for brunch. My youngest daughter always stayed there now, since there was more room, and an adorable little niece to play with. I specifically asked if it could be just us three. I could tell from my eldest daughter's tone of voice on the phone that she thought it was an unusual request, but she arranged for her husband to take their daughter out for the day. We had a nice hour or so catching up, and then when the omelets and fruit were done, I put on my serious face.

"I actually asked you both here because I wanted to talk about something: Sexuality."

Oh, those poor dears. Their faces went so pale, as they looked at each other and back to me. Who wants to talk about sex with their mother, especially at their age?

"I assume you're both active now, well, you obviously are...", pointing to my eldest daughter, "and I thought we could maybe have a discussion about it. You know, see where you are, where we are..."

"Mom", my youngest daughter said, "are you having sex?"

"Yes, I am."

"Ewwwww..." she said, as they both couldn't help making faces.

"Quite a lot of it, actually. Is that such a bad thing?"

"It's not, Mom", my eldest daughter said. "It's just, no one wants to imagine their parents having sex."

"Especially you!" my youngest daughter piped back in, "Ewwww..."

"Don't worry, that goes both ways", I replied. "But the fact remains, we are all having sex, or will be having sex, and...there are some things I would like to talk about. Or, anything that you would like to talk about...?"

Awkward silence for some long pregnant moments. Not surprising really. I would have found a conversation like this with my mother excruciating. But maybe I would have appreciated it later. Who knows? My eldest daughter, the mature one, broke the silence by cautiously diving in.

"So, what kinds of things did you have in mind...to talk about?"

"Wants, needs, desires, urges...fetishes...ways to handle them, to deal with them", I replied.

"Do you have...fetishes, Mom?" asked my younger daughter gingerly, as if she was afraid of stepping on a landmine.

I leaned forward a little to say, "Yes. We all have things that...turn us on. Even me."

My youngest daughter was speechless now, so I went on.

"Some of these...fetishes, can seem quite unusual to other people. Some are very dark, deviant. We can spend our lives being afraid of them, denying them, hoping they'll go away if we ignore them. But they never do, they just get stronger..."

Uh oh. I just caught myself monologue-ing there. I guess I was weaving a spell, because my girls were hooked.

"What...kind of year have you had exactly, Mom?" asked my eldest daughter.

"An intense year, dear, full of sexual freedom and experimentation. I've been making up for lost time."

Yep, they were speechless again.

"I think that brings me to what I wanted to talk about, girls. I was pent up for so long, that I kind of went wild last year. I don't know that I regret it, although maybe I should for a few things, but it has made me wonder. What if I hadn't been so closed off from my sexuality all those years? What if I'd embraced my desires, and found a way to integrate them into my life, live more sexually? I think I would have been happier in the long run. I think it would have been better for me."

They were really staring at me now. Who was this person? She didn't sound anything like our mother.

"Listen, you may have some of these needs and desires too. You don't have to say anything about them to me if you don't want to. But you're both so young. Take what you feel inside seriously, that's all I'm asking. I am here to tell you, that these things don't go away, so find a way to let them out, express them, integrate them into your lives. That's all I'm asking. Will you think hard on that for me?"

They looked at me, then looked at each other, and then looked at me again.

"Okay, Mom", they both said.

"I'll think about what you said, Mom", my eldest daughter said.

"Me too", my youngest daughter added, "I mean it. Really."

I stood up. I'd given them both more than enough to think about. My work here was done. I would give them just two more things now, and then take my leave.

"If you ever want to talk about anything, for any reason, about anything regarding love, marriage, relationships, family, sex, desires, fetishes, kinks...I am here for you. Any time, for any thing, with no judgment. If you don't feel comfortable, that's fine. I won't pry, but I will be there for you. Also, you've got each other. I wasn't lucky enough to have a sister, or a mother who could start a conversation like this. Be each other's best friend. Be there when the other one needs a friendly ear, especially for the hardest things to talk about."

Well, that did it. We were all getting teary-eyed now. We hugged, and I left them there, just the two of them. I so hoped they would have a conversation of some kind.

I kept an eye on that F*t profile that could have belonged to my youngest daughter. There wasn't much activity on it. I refrained from reaching out for friendship or following it. I just lurked there unbeknownst to her. If it was my daughter, I didn't want to freak her out by thinking her mother was watching her there. And if she got curious about whether I was on F*t or not, it wouldn't be all that hard to find my profile, and probably put two and two together.

Of course, I felt apprehensive. Putting herself out there like this opened her up to all sorts of people and experiences, and not all of them good. The Internet, and this site, were full of people (men, mostly) looking to take advantage of young women. If that was my daughter, was she ready for that? Were any of these women? Were Kit-5, PonyTail and I ready for any of the experiences we blindly walked into, despite any attempts to vet?

But alongside the apprehension, there was pride. My daughter, or whoever this young woman in the profile was, had taken a decisive step to assert her sexuality, to see it as an integral part of her being, and do something with it. I wish I'd had her courage when I was her age, or the tools to do it with.

I was very proud of myself when I got a bright idea a little while later. I reached out to PonyTail, explained my situation, and asked if she would reach out to the girl, and see if they could become friends on F*t. She did, and it worked out great. They had so many kinks in common, plus age, that they just naturally became friends, and shared many confidences over the Internet. They were there for each other. PonyTail had some real experiences now, and had a lot to offer as far as advice went. She was such a doll. I was and still am grateful that Kit-5 and PonyTail were thrown into the back of that van with me.

Time moved forward. Life went on. My daughters and I didn't speak of that conversation again, but there was something different about us now, something better. I felt they were both more open with me, and probably more understanding, too. They saw me more as a human being instead of just a mother, and I think that was a good thing.

I still communicated with both Kit-5 and PonyTail, but the nature of those relationships were changing too. Kit-5 never came over anymore. She didn't need to. Things were working out with David. He wasn't the natural dominant that she might have craved, but he was growing into the role, and finding it wasn't too bad. To his credit, he recognized her needs as very real, took a proactive approach to it, and was finding things out about himself through it. He punished her once a week, and fucked her nice and hard afterwards. It was their version of date night. She told me it was keeping her on an even keel. She had permission to look for domination outside their marriage. All he asked was that she be careful, open, and maybe limit it to Doms she knew and felt secure with. But Kit-5 didn't bother with any of that. Knowing it was an option was enough for her, at least for the time being. David was stepping up, and she truly loved him, and felt loved for who she was.

David was really reaping some rewards from this arrangement as well. The lines of communication were wide open between them. He was free to discuss any sexual fantasies he might have had, and he had a wife who was more than willing to make them happen. After trying anal sex, he'd found he craved it. Kit-5 was just as glad as he was about that. Boss-secretary was becoming a favorite as well. He'd grown-up playing role-playing games, and this seemed like a natural extension of that. They'd evolved a routine where she was a regular wife and partner to him, unless he took the collar off it's hook in the kitchen. Then she was the slave, and he was the master.

PonyTail still had a way to go, but she was doing better than either I or Kit-5 did in our first year out of the ranch. Kit-5 and I took it upon ourselves to help PonyTail vet potential Doms. We weeded out quite a few, which she appreciated. She joined a local munch, and played around a bit, landing on a few that fulfilled some needs. They couldn't take her as far as she thought she wanted, but after her first experience at the ranch, she wasn't sure she really wanted to go that far. Still, she thought about that week every day of her life, and when she masturbated, it was to videos from the ranch. PonyTail found more luck with the extreme side of things going the lesbian route. She'd concluded that she was bi, even though she preferred men. Lesbian Dommes had the ability to be more demanding, more sadistic, and maybe just plain evil, without crossing the line to abusiveness that men did. It was a curious phenomenon. The downside, however, was that they could be far more manipulative. Maybe a couple would be PonyTail's best choice for the future. Maybe she was a unicorn, searching for a safer surrogate to Duke & Sado-Chick.

She still came out to see me once in awhile. I think she needed an occasional weekend with me to re-charge her batteries. I took charge and dominated her. Maybe I was becoming a switch? I don't know. Submission and just downright slavery were still what made me tick. But PonyTail brought out this other side of me. When she met me in the airport terminal, she would present a list of punishments to me, and pay the price for them later that night in my apartment. We still slept pressed together on the couch, and I edged her all weekend. She didn't get to cum until I took her into the restroom stall at the airport before her flight back home. Unsurprisingly, she became incredibly eager to drive out to the airport earlier and earlier each time.

I also started using her as a little toilet in my shower. Just pee, then edging, then she got to clean herself off. This brings up an interesting digression. Goddess Angelica reached out to PonyTail on F*t out of the blue. Maybe the Goddess had noticed PonyTail on both myself and Kit-5's friend's lists? I could just picture PonyTail's eyes going as wide as they could halfway across the country as Kit-5 and I described our experiences with Goddess Angelica in very graphic detail. PonyTail couldn't believe we'd actually swallowed shit straight from someone's ass. She wisely decided that was something she didn't need to experience, and politely declined Goddess Angelica's invitation. I admired that in her. I'm sure both Kit-

5 and I both wish we'd done the same thing in retrospect. But we hadn't, so I guess it was a necessary part of our journey at the time. I will never do something like that again. But I have to admit, sometimes when I'm edging myself so I can cum in a really intense orgasm, I find myself kneeling in that hotel shower stall again, as she presses her big ass down onto my face, lining up her asshole with my mouth, and waiting for my tongue to go in before she starts pushing. There's something about the sheer callous dominance of a powerful woman.

For Kit-5 and David's six-month anniversary, I flew PonyTail out for a weekend. David got the thrill of a totally debauched threesome all weekend with two young women who lived to serve and lived to fuck. Knowing them both, I doubt David could walk straight for a couple days after that.

And a funny thing happened to me during this second year as an alumnus of the ranch: I fell in love. I had been messaging with a Dom in Chicago who sounded promising, and bundled a coffee meet in with a trip to see my youngest daughter. Coffee turned to dinner, and dinner turned into a hotel room. It was good. I liked his style, and I liked fucking him. But this time, it went beyond it. He wanted to spend time with me, doing more than just dominating me. We started to date for real, and this love just grew between us. I stopped needing anyone else. I eventually found a job up in Chicago, and just moved up there. We started going to munches and BDSM clubs together, as well as playing as much as possible. But we also did some nice normal things. I'd forgotten how enjoyable a day in a museum could be, or a ball game at Wrigley Field. We clicked together. I loved him, and I loved it when he whipped me. We've been talking about moving in together. It seems like a good idea to me.

Yes, everything was going well for us. Or, it seemed to be. But there was still the issue of who we were, deep down inside. Every night when I undressed for the night, I took a good look at those brands on my body. They weren't there by accident. I wasn't a victim of the branding iron. I had gone out to California looking for something, and had subjected myself to that twisted, deviant week of captivity under Duke & Sado-Chick. I'd spent the next year trying to come to terms with it while I explored the outer-most edges of my sexuality and need to submit...and then I 'd gone back out there. I knew exactly what to expect from my first time, and Duke even warned me that it would be rougher and harder the second time. But I still went. I bought the airline tickets, notified Duke, and boarded the flight.

So did Kit-5. And we were branded for our troubles. Marked like pieces of livestock. Given a permanent reminder of who we were inside, and what we were to Duke & Sado-Chick. Kit-5 and I had also found each other there, and later found PonyTail.

I couldn't help it. Here it was nearing a year later from my second trip to the ranch, and I was feeling this urgent need to go back again. Why? I'd found what I needed with my new paramour. I felt whole again, alive, seen for who I am, and appreciated for it. But still, I had that need, and it just grew stronger every day. Was this going to be an annual thing now?

I discussed this with my lover-dom. I hadn't held anything back from him before, and wasn't about to start now. I could tell he wasn't wild about this, but in the end he urged me to go if I really felt the need. He trusted me. He even drove me to the airport, and would be there waiting for me when I flew back a week later.

I hadn't bothered to communicate with Kit-5 and PonyTail about my urge to return. But when I walked through the terminal at SFO, I found them both there. They needed this just as badly as I did. We found some seats together, until Duke came to collect us.

I saw something that chilled me for some reason when we were put into the van: a fourth collar chained to the floor. I couldn't take my eyes off it as we were ritually stripped, cuffed and gagged side-by-side. Would four of us even fit in here?