Mother's concern

A/N: I wrote a fic that doesn't require oodles of warnings. You haven't any idea how proud I am. Heee. This is just a quick break from Sunshine and Shadow. It's short and really rather sweet. And a bit different. I had fun with it.
`Lynn


Mother's Concern

I stared at the computer screen, gaping visibly. /This/ is what my daughter had been staying up late typing. This...this...pornography? My daughter was an honors student! Involved in several activities, including the Fellowship of Christian athletes, and a church youth group. She was the perfect daughter, intelligent popular high achiever, yet here was the evidence of her imperfection. Pornography. And writing in MY house, using MY computer.

My husband tried to calm me down that night, as I attempted to sleep. "It's just a way to blow of steam, dear," he comforted coldly.

I stared at him. "Teenagers do drugs to blow off steam! Or stay out past curfew, or fight with their siblings. They don't write of torture, and rape! Not like that." I stared at him knowingly. He had refused to read the piece she must have forgotten to delete from the hard drive.

"This strikes me as pretty safe, honey. It's not like she DOING any of this."

"How do you know!" I blew up at him. "How. Do. You. Know. Did you even think our sweet little Emma could /write/ this trash? I know I didn't."

"Relax. Emma is a smart girl. She wouldn't do anything like this. She is writing to give some of her bottled emotion an outlet. Frankly, I think it's a bit healthier than her seeming so pet alt all of the time."

<<<<<<>>>>>>>>

I stared at myself in the mirror the next day, only slightly disgusted. I was wearing an old outfit from my own highschool days. It was snug in the middle and around the h but but still fit. A sparkly halter top, and black mini-skirts. I squeezed into my old go-go boots astounded at how much they hurt. I had pulled my graying red hair back, to show off my face that was mostly wrinkle free. My grey eyes were accented with a touch of shadow, and an ungodly amount of eyeshadow.

"I will make sure she doesn't ever do these things..." I muttered to myself, glancing at the obscene story I had printed off of my computer. I grabbed my car keys from the counter and decided my large overstuffed purse would have to work, whether it went with my new outfit or not. I couldn't live without it.

I drove out of town, to the location of the bar that Emma had mentioned in her story. "Beer Barn" and old round barn that had been remodeled into a tavern/restuarant/night club several years ago. According to Emma's story, it also served as an underground BDSM scene. If this were true, I would have proof enough that she engaged in this behavior and didn't just write about it. If it were not, well I would be slightly embarrassed. But not too much. It was worth it to me.

As I pulled into one of the further parking spots, I jumped. I thought I had seen my husband's Chevy truck. Closer inspection revealed it as one of those cars that looked just like it. I calmed myself, what would he be doing here? He would be at his job, in the factory across town. Across the OTHER side of town. I calmed my nerves and applied fin finishing touch to my look, bright red lipstick.

I chuckled slightly, it had been several years since I had last used the rearview mirror for a make-up check. And something about using the mini-van rearview mirror had me wanting to laugh even longer. "This is serious,"I chided myself, opening the door, being sure to lock it behind me. "I need to know if Emma is hiding anything."

I walked intot the Beer Barn, my head held high and saw a restuarant/night club/tavern. I laughed softly to myself. Imagine, making a fool of myself like this just to see if Emma were taking her fantasies too seriously. Or if they weren't fantasies at all. Tables were scattered around a dance floor, and a bar was in one corner. The lights were dim, and my eyes adjusted slowly.

I decided to get a coke, just to make sure all was well. I was convinced at this point that Emma just had a fertile imagination. Though, I'd have to have a serious discussion with her. She needed to know the dangers about what she was getting herself into. If the wrong boy at school were to read her stories, for example.

I walked to the bar and smiled at the bartender. He was a portly fellow, as bartenders usually are and smiled at me jovially. "A small coke, please." I said pleasantly.

"Ahhh," he said, seeming almost consiratorial and I wondered at that. "We've been expecting you."

I about jumped out of my skin. Expecting me? "Wha..." I stammered, and screamed as blinfold was placed over my eyes. A hand clamped on my mouth. "Now, none of that until we are downstairs," a familiar voice in whispered in my ear.

I fought the urge to scream some more, and followed the lead of the voice, curiosity dominating. Then common sense took over and I began to struggle. The blindfold was pulled from my eyes, and I recognized my husband. He grabbed my head and thrust his lips onto mine, exploring my mouth with a ferocity I hadn't experienced in years.

"Emily, our daughter did not write that, trash as you called it. *I* did. Though why you assumed it was her, I don't know."

He looked at me, his blue eyes filled with pain, and lust. "I am Arik, and you Justinna, I am truly surprised you couldn't figure that out. And a little hurt."

I stared at him. The characters in his pornographic story were based on US? "But we are upstanding, every day folk. We don't DO this sort of thing."

"Oh come now, Emily. Haven't you ever fantasized, wondered what else we could do? Our every day life is great, but let's face it. We haven't been passionate in the bedroom for years. That kiss proved it, all too well."

My eyes widened, as I noticed his outfit. Leather pants covered his legs, very tightly, and a tight white shirt stretched over his broad chest and slight beer gut. A silver chain glinted at his neck and I recognized the choke collar we used for our dogs. I had to laugh lightly, what a silly picture we had to make. Me in my 70's slut gear, and him in his leather pants.

"Oh, Jason. not not sure I came here entirely just to find truths about Emma. But to perhaps find trut about..." I muffled the rest of my words as he kissed me again, walking away while doing so, leading my down a set of stairs. I followed, enjoying trying to keep my mouth on his the entire way.

We stumbled down the stairway, and the scent of sex almost assaulted me. I acted first, reaching for a pair of silver cuffs I saw gleaming on the shelf, snapping them on his hands.

"Now," I whispered, drawing away from him. "you are mine."

He shivered, and I began to pull his shirt over his head, realizing my mistake as it became stuck on his arms, just barely over my neck. I glanced around, and found a pair of scissors. Laughing, I cut the sleeves from his arms and pulled it off. His nipples were erect, and I felt myself become aroused at the sight of them. I traced my finger over one lightly, and he grasped my hand.

"Not yet," he whispered, and began to strip my top from my torso. I had had to go without a bra, despite my now sagging breasts, and he smiled as they became revealed. He reached down with his mouth and began to carress one.

I used his distraction to pull his tennis shoes off of his feet, and peel his pants off. His erection was obvious, even through his tightie whitie underwear. I moved one hand over it, teasingly. He looked up at me with pleading blue eyes and I laughed, reachior aor another set of chains to bind his legs.

"You will be mine, today. And perhaps tomorrow, I will let you have me." I toyed with my skirt, slipping it off slowly. Leaving only my boots. "What's this?" I queried finding a small whip upon another shelf. I picked it up, bringing it towards him. My body was roaring with lust, and need, and the whip in my hand felt right.

I tested it once, cracking it on the first try. A trick I had learned just for fun, once, in college. I smiled, a trick I had never forseen coming in handy. His moan, convinced me that he wanted this too, and I cracked it against his pale white ass. He jumped, screaming only a little. I cracked it again, a little less gently this time and he responded even more loudly.

I reached my arms around him, and grabbed his cock from behind. I squeezed slightly and began to move my hand back and forth, rocking into him.

"Whip...handle..." he whispered and my eyes widened. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I grapsed the handle and moved it gently into my pussy, lubricating it. Then I opened the crack of his ass, thrusting it with one large push, he moaned in agony as I continued to move back and forth, stroking his penis with one hand, pushing the whip handle with my other.

I was filled with ecstasy as he and I came as one. Him exploding in the way only men can, and me exploding from the inside, privately. I screamed at our climax, a piercing scream unlike any other. I eased the whip out from behind, and undid the chains, still panting slightly.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you for helping me to open my mind." I kissed him, then, softly.

"Emma knew it work," he said teasingly. I think.