Claire Converts - Cover

Claire Converts

Copyright© 2004 by MWTB

Chapter 4

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 4 - This is a side story off of Tired of Being the Nice Guy. When Claire discovers that her daughter was submitting herself to slavery, it sends her life off in a direction that she had not expected.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Light Bond  

It was Friday morning. Two days since our dinner with Becky. Two days. Had I changed that much in two days? I stood naked in front of the mirror looking at myself. Except for some slight bruising on my bottom, I looked like exactly the same person. On the other hand, I felt quite different. I felt like I was a runaway train. I was determined to have a long talk with Jake tonight. I needed to get some level of control back.

I got dressed and went downstairs, and a little later I heard Amy coming in. "Good Morning!" she called as she came in. I went over and poured another cup of coffee, handing it to her as she came into the room.

She took a seat at the table while I remained standing next to the counter, and we chatted aimlessly. She eventually said with a good natured grin, "Would you please sit down, I'm getting a crick in my neck!"

I smiled back and sat down tentatively. My ass was still sore, and the reason that I was standing was that I was not sure it would be completely comfortable sitting. I was right; I could feel the bruises on my ass.

Apparently, Amy could tell that I was hurting as well, because she asked if I was OK. "It's nothing," I said, and I could feel my face blushing.

"I don't think it's just nothing," Amy chortled. "Fess up!"

"Well, it's your fault!" I complained.

"Mine?" she asked.

"Yesterday you mentioned that Jim spanked you," I explained, "and when Jake heard that, he decided that he would see how he liked it. He went a little overboard, and my ass is a little sore this morning. Happy?"

"Well, I would be happier if I had seen that," she said, "but at least I understand why you are having trouble sitting."

"Amy!" I shrieked in chagrin.

She just smiled evilly and asked, "Besides the after effects, was it good?"

I blushed again as I nodded.

"Slave one night, naughty girl the next," Amy said. "You are certainly having a more active time than normal." We had discussed our sex lives, and she knew that we didn't have sex every night, so this was unusual. The only difference with what she said, however, was that I was a slave girl both nights.

She must have seen something in my face because she said, "You are usually not this embarrassed, even when we discuss your sex life. What's up with that?"

"Nothing," I said. "It's just that this is new territory for me."

We sat quietly drinking our coffee for a few minutes, and I saw that Amy was looking at me speculatively. A few minutes later, she said, "Claire, get me a piece of cake."

I started going to get it when I realized what she had said. Amy was, if nothing else, unfailingly polite. She always said please and thank you. She hadn't asked me for the cake, she had demanded it. It wasn't anything large, but it was surprising. I handed her the cake with a questioning glance, but Amy just said, "Thank you." I mentally shrugged and we continued talking for a while before Amy had to leave.

That night Jake came home exhausted. I got him dinner and we sat in front of the TV for a while. Eventually I asked him, "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

He said, "I think so, though Becky and Jamie are very pretty girls. I'm not sure how I'm going to react to seeing them naked."

"Well, just remember, one of them is young enough to be your daughter, and the other one is your daughter," I teased him.

He grabbed me, pulled me onto his lap and kissed me as he said, "If I get too excited I'll just take it out on you."

"You won't hear me complaining," I said happily.

"No, I haven't heard you complaining," he said.

I looked at him and wanted to bring up the conversation I felt we needed to have, but I didn't know how to do it.

"We have a long day tomorrow," Jake said. "Let's go to bed."

We went to the bedroom and got into pajamas. He pulled me to him, kissed me, and then closed his eyes. In a few minutes we were both asleep.


We all went into the city together again, this time dressed up in nice clothes. We got to Becky's house and rang the bell. Chrissy answered the door. She was wearing a red dress, low-cut at the neck with very little back. It was short and sexy, and she made me feel frumpy. She led us in, and I realized that we were among the first guests. She led us to the girls, and Amy exclaimed, "You look so beautiful!"

I don't know what I expected, but it was not what they were wearing. Becky and Jamie were in identical dresses, white silk, tied around their neck, then opening around their hips and flowing into a train in the back. Their breasts were covered, but you could see their white silk bikini panties. Their legs were uncovered and they were barefoot. As a final touch, they were wearing white leather cuffs on their wrists and ankles.

And Amy was right. Despite the fact that they were not dressed nearly traditional, they were both beautiful. My actual thought was that they looked right. And once again, my treacherous pussy betrayed me. This was my daughter, about to give herself into eternal bondage, and instead of horror, instead of trepidation, instead of motherly concern, all I could think about was how she must feel in that outfit. Was it embarrassment? Shame? Sexiness? Pride?

And a piece of my brain kept asking, how would I feel in it? Embarrassment? Definitely. Shame? Maybe. Sexiness? Oh, yeah! Pride? I just didn't know.

We fluttered around the girls for a while, and they seemed extremely happy and very excited. This wedding had a reception first. The guests continued to arrive, and as the girls wandered around greeting everyone, they answered part of my question. Embarrassment? No way. Pride? Definitely!

We mingled and we introduced ourselves to Becky's friends. They seemed very nice and non-judgmental, though I'm sure it was a carefully selected set of friends.

I was walking around by myself when Becky's boyfriend, soon to be Master, walked by. I grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. "This is nicer than I expected," I told him. It was true. Given how much he controlled them, he didn't have to make them a nice wedding, but he did, and they were enjoying it as every bride should.

"Tell me if you still think so when we are all done," he said.

"I know that it's going to be hard for me to watch," I told him, "but Becky seems happy and given your relationship, I should be happy that she is getting anything."

I took a nervous drink and smiled lopsidedly at him. "You know, I don't know if I should be thanking you, or hitting you," I told him.

He said, innocently, "I'm not sure I know what you are talking about."

"You told my husband something," I replied.

"About what?" he asked. He was playing a game. He was going to make me tell him.

"You know very well!" I said. "You told him to treat me like you treat Becky, didn't you?"

"He told you that?" he replied, still acting all innocent.

"No, but between his actions, and the fact that Becky encouraged them, I know that you are behind it," I said.

He took a step closer, entering my personal space and asked in a lowered voice, "Did you enjoy it?"

"That's beside the point!" I protested.

"No, that is exactly the point," he said. "If I said something to your husband to make your life better, then you should thank me, not hit me. I may have said something, because I thought it might make all of you a little happier. I don't expect that you and Jake will move into a relationship like Becky and I have, but a little fantasy goes a long way."

"Well, I didn't mind playing with him, though I suspect he treated me differently than you treat Becky," I said.

"No two situations are the same," he responded. "I treat Becky different than I treat Jamie than I treat Chrissy. Everyone is different, and the important thing is that both parties are happy with the relationship."

Was I happy with the relationship? How did it compare to the one he had with Becky? Or with Jamie? Or the one that Becky had with Chrissy? I took a big gulp of my drink, lowered my eyes and quietly asked, "How would you treat me?"

"Why, mother!" he said in a slightly reproving tone.

"Sorry," I whispered, embarrassed, and I started walking away. He grabbed my elbow to stop me and he turned me to face him.

"Claire, I am not sure how I would treat you," he told her. "How you treat a partner is not something that you plan. You experiment and you play, feeling out boundaries and limits. You pay attention to what turns your partner on, and to what you find enjoyable. Then you move in directions that make you excited, and move away from those that make you truly uncomfortable."

He paused briefly, and I thought about that. Is that what Jake was doing. Was he experimenting? Looking for boundaries and limits? If he was, then Lord knows I hadn't given him any. I took everything that he gave me, and despite my mind screaming at me to stop him, if was looking to my body for outward signs, he was getting great big juicy green lights. If he was paying the slightest bit of attention to what turned me on, it would explain why he was moving full steam ahead.

I saw him looking me up and down, and he said, "In your case, I think you might be more like the new Becky than you care to admit. Sometimes, it is important that you tell your partner your fantasies; sometimes they can come true. Jamie had a fantasy of being taken by force by a stranger. She told it to me, saying that it wasn't something that she ever really wanted to happen. But when I took her, pretending to be a stranger, she loved that her fantasy was coming true."

Oh my God, I should have brought another pair of panties with me.

He went on, "If you enjoy what your husband is doing to you, let him know. You don't have to say, 'Oh, Jake, I love it when you take me in my ass, ' but you can moan in pleasure when he does it. You can kiss him the next day and thank him for a wonderful night. You can ask him, 'Is there anything that I can do to make you feel as good as you made me feel last night?' And if you want to tell him your fantasies, start by making him part of them, and make it something that he would get pleasure from as well. Tell him, 'I'd love to see your cock going in and out of Amy while I feel Jim pounding into me.'"

Oh. My. God. Would I love to be taken in the ass? How would I feel seeing him taking Amy? While Jim fucked me? I had to go to the bathroom now! If they had shut the lights off right now, the room would still be illuminated by the blush on my face!

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he said, "but you asked me what I would do."

He was right. I did ask for it. I said, "That's OK. Thank you for telling me what you thought." I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and quickly walked away. I saw Jake talking to one of Becky's friends and I quickly went over, grabbed his arm and held him close. Jake wrapped his arm possessively around my shoulder and pulled me in close to him. I thought it would ground me, calm me, but it didn't. I'm sure he just meant it as a hug, but to me it didn't feel like a loving embrace; it felt like he was declaring, 'This woman is mine!'

I savored it for a moment before I excused myself and went upstairs to find a bathroom away from the crowd. I found one, quickly locked the door and leaned up against it. I pulled up my skirt and yanked my panties down. I shoved one fist in my mouth to quiet my moans as I sunk three fingers into my steamy tunnel. As they were being pushed up into me I glanced across the way and I saw myself in the mirror. I was cumming before my fingers were completely buried in me, and I didn't stop for at least three minutes.

When I was done, I realized that I was slumped on the floor, my bare ass on the cold tile. When I regained a little strength in my legs, I got up and picked up my panties. I tried to wring them out or dry them on the towel, but I gave up and shoved them into my bag. I wiped my pussy off as best as I could with a towel; if someone used this bathroom soon, they would get an interesting surprise if they used that towel to wipe their face.

I fixed my makeup and headed back down to the party. I was going for another drink when Becky intercepted me. She said, "I saw you talking with my Master. You weren't saying anything bad to him, were you?"

Once again, I blushed profusely. I shook my head and muttered, "No, we were just talking," and I rushed off to get that drink. I saw Becky go and talk to her Master, and a few minutes later they both turned to look at me. I couldn't look at them. I turned away, my blush increasing another 100 watts.

We mingled for about another half hour, and I managed to avoid both Becky and her Master, though I caught both of them looking me over at various times. Finally, it was time for the ceremony. I went to the front with Amy as Jake and Jim went to give away our daughters.

The ceremony was bizarre. And different. And completely out of any norm that I know of. And beautiful.

Becky and Jamie were so heartfelt in declaring their unconditional love for their new Master. They gave him their bodies, their hearts, their souls. And he accepted them, and gave them his love in return.

I watched as their bridesmaids stripped them of their wedding finery, and I felt Jake pull me closer to me. They may have been his daughter and his daughter's best friend, but they were beautiful, sexy, naked women.

I watched them being collared, and I thought that removing my panties had been a very big mistake. Then I watched them get pierced through their nipples, and that took the edge off slightly; it did not look like something that I would enjoy.

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