Suburban Secrets (F/F)

[Janbound]

A shiver ran down Katherine’s spine as she walked along the pavement on this warm June morning, the concrete slabs already warmed by the suns tays below her bare feet. Her messy blonde hair waved in the morning breeze as the tight black T-shirt shiwed she really shoukd have worn a bra that morning.

9.20. School runs over. Workers arvwork as she knocked on the nondescript white frint door of the nondescript three bed semi in the nondescript suburb that was her neighbourhood. Her friends, her local ciffee shops, and one special friend.

The door opened without hesitation, as if Mandy had been waiting behind it. The younger woman's lips curled into that familiar smirk Katherine both dreaded and craved, her hazel eyes flicking down to take in the older woman's bra-less state, tight jeans and bare feet with obvious approval. "Late again," Mandy observed, stepping aside just enough to let Katherine squeeze past her into the narrow hallway, their bodies brushing in the confined space.

Inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee hit Katherine's nostrils as she followed Mandy's swaying hips towards the kitchen, but she was aware of another scent rising: sweat, anticipation, arousal. The younger woman's feet made no sound on the laminate flooring inside their shiny black nylon cocoons, unlike Katherine's own nervous shuffle, toe ring striking the hard surface, sweaty soles squeaking. She didn't need to ask why all the blinds were drawn at this hour.

Mandy's fingers—long, manicured, already twitching with purpose—closed around a mug, pressing it into Katherine's shaking hands. "Drink," she ordered, the simple word layered with quiet threat as her other hand drifted to Katherine's waistband, tugging just hard enough to shift the jeans against bare skin. The older woman gasped, nearly spilling scalding liquid down herself, knowing full well that would earn her worse later.

The drawer slid open with a clatter, and Katherine flinched at the unmistakable *thunk* of wood against laminate as Mandy retrieved the spoon—not some flimsy modern thing, but the old, solid maple one with the slight chip in the handle, the one that left marks. "You know the rules," Mandy murmured, kicking the drawer shut with her nylon-clad foot, the sound muffled but final. "Hands on the counter. Bend."

Katherine's fingers trembled against the cool kitchen surface, her breath coming too fast as she bent at the waist, the denim pulling taut over her backside. The first sharp *crack* of wood against denim made her jerk, the sting immediate and bright, and she bit back a whimper—but Mandy caught the reaction anyway, pausing to drag the spoon's edge teasingly down the seam of her jeans. "Count," Mandy ordered, voice low, and Katherine felt the younger woman's breath on her neck as she leaned in. "Or we start over."

The second blow landed higher, just beneath the waistband, and Katherine gasped out a ragged "One!", her toes curling against the laminate. Mandy's free hand splayed possessively across the small of her back, pinning her in place as the spoon came down again, this time with deliberate precision on the same spot—the heat blooming deeper, lingering. "Two," Katherine choked out, already anticipating the next, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on the counter's edge.

Mandy exhaled a soft, satisfied hum, pausing to trace the spoon's outline over Katherine's clenched denim, the wood catching on the fabric with a whisper of friction. "You're tensing," she chided, landing a sharp, unexpected swat to the sensitive crease where thigh met cheek, and Katherine yelped, her knee buckling before she caught herself. "Three," she panted, her voice breaking as the sting radiated outward, her bare feet sliding against the floor.

The younger woman's fingers dug into Katherine's hip, forcing her to arch deeper, the spoon's next stroke landing with a *thwack* directly over the first two—a concentrated burn that made Katherine's breath hitch. "F-four," she managed, her throat dry despite the coffee still steaming untouched beside her, her reflection in the stainless steel fridge warped and flushed. Mandy dragged the spoon downward in slow, deliberate strokes, the heat building with each pass, until Katherine's jeans felt like they'd fused to her skin.

A sudden, sharp rap at the front door froze them both—Mandy's grip tightened reflexively, her nails biting through Katherine's shirt as the older woman stiffened. "Interuptions interuptions!" Mandy murmured against the shell of her ear, but the spoon hesitated mid-air, her body angled toward the hallway, listening, they both heard the retreating foorsteps. Mandy left Katherine bent over as she unlocked her door retrieving the package.

Exhaling through her nose, Mandy resumed her stance, the spoon tapping impatiently against Katherine's denim-clad thigh. "Where were we?" she purred, pressing her knee between Katherine's legs to widen her stance, the sudden friction drawing a gasp. “Oh. Time to lower the jeans.” Katherine without raising her body from the bent position, fumbled with the buttons of her jeans, slidingbthem over her ample buttocks and exposing bare skin and black cotton knickers. The spoon came down with a *crack* just as the doorbell rang, the dual sensations—pain and the thrill of being caught—making Katherine's knees shake. "Four!" she blurted, louder than intended, and Mandy smirked at the way her voice cracked.

The spoon traced lazy circles over the cotton, each pass threatening another swat. Katherine clenched her fists, her heartbeat loud in her ears as Mandy leaned in, her breath hot against Katherine's ear. "You think you deserve these?" she whispered, fingers hooking into the waistband of Katherine's panties, the elastic snapping lightly against skin. Before Katherine could answer, the spoon connected again—this time directly on cotton, the fabric doing little to soften the blow. "Five," Katherine choked out, her toes curling against the laminate.

She stood there as again she sensed her younger tormentor returning to answer her door. The spoon rested threateningly on her bare skin, as Katherine waited, her bare bottom exposed to the cool kitchen air, the faintest tremor running through her thighs. The distant murmur of voices at the front door—Mandy's clipped politeness, the courier's bored monotone—made Katherine bite her lip, the absurdity of her position crashing over her: fifty-three years old, bent over her neighbor's kitchen counter like a misbehaving schoolgirl, waiting for punishment to resume. The spoon tapped once, twice against her thigh, a silent reminder that stillness was expected.

When Mandy's soft footsteps returned, Katherine heard the rustle of the discarded parcel hitting the counter beside her, then the whisper of nylon thighs rubbing together as the younger woman stepped close again. "Now," Mandy murmured, the spoon's edge dragging a slow, taunting line down the cleft of Katherine's exposed cheeks, the wood catching on the damp cotton of her panties, "where were we?" Katherine's breath hitched as Mandy hooked a finger under the elastic waistband, peeling the fabric down just enough to expose the first angry red stripe from earlier. "Six," she gasped preemptively, but Mandy tutted, landing a stinging slap to the opposite cheek instead. "Counting ahead? That's cheating."

The spoon cracked down twice in quick succession—once on bare skin, once lower where denim still clung to Katherine's hips—the alternating sensations making her legs wobble. Mandy's free hand splayed across the small of her back, nails digging in as she leaned down, her lips brushing Katherine's earlobe. "You like when I make it uneven, don't you?" she whispered, punctuating the question with a sharp tap to the crease where thigh met buttock. Katherine's choked "Seven!" dissolved into a whimper as Mandy dragged the spoon downward in slow, burning strokes, the wood raising goosebumps on overheated skin.

"Pull your jeans up," Mandy ordered suddenly, stepping back just enough for Katherine to fumble with the denim, her fingers clumsy with adrenaline as she dragged the fabric over her stinging flesh. The younger woman watched with narrowed eyes, tapping the spoon against her own palm as Katherine's trembling hands moved to the hem of her shirt. "Loose the shirt," Mandy added, her voice dropping to a husky murmur as Katherine obeyed, the fabric riding up to reveal the soft swell of her stomach, and the curve of her breasts as they swung, suddenly free of all restraint. Mandy's exhale was audible as she closed the distance again, the spoon's handle tracing the outline of Katherine's areola.

A coil of thick hemp rope appeared from nowhere—Mandy always had supplies within reach—and Katherine swallowed hard as her wrists were wrenched behind her back, the rough fibers biting into her skin with each deliberate loop. Mandy worked silently, her breath warm against Katherine's shoulder as she cinched the final knot, testing the give with a sharp tug that made Katherine gasp. "Good," Mandy purred, her fingers skating up Katherine's ribs to close around her left nipple—pinching hard, twisting just enough to make Katherine arch into the pain—before stepping back, forcing Katherine to follow or risk tearing the sensitive flesh.

The slow procession through the hallway was agony—Mandy's grip unrelenting, Katherine's bare feet slipping on the laminate as she stumbled forward, her bound hands brushing the wall for balance. The lounge door stood ajar, shadows pooling where the blackout curtains met, and Katherine's pulse spiked as Mandy guided her toward the waiting rug, scattered with overstuffed cushions deceptively innocent. A sharp yank on her nipple sent Katherine sprawling across the floor, her cheek pressed to the rough wool, her exposed breasts crushed against the firm padding as Mandy's knee settled between her thighs.

“Take my tights off.” The younger woman ordered. As she rolled over, spreading her kegs slightly. Katherine followed her black nhlon civered legs up to where her thighs vanished under the denim miniskirt.

“You know how.” Mandy added as Katherine lowered her face to Mandy’s nylon covered toes. She inhaled the scent of sweat and nylon before taking Mandy’s toes into her mouth, sucking lightly as she bit down on the material, tasting the salt and the nylon’s synthetic tang. Her teeth tugged at the fabric, working it loose millimeter by millimeter from Mandy’s foot, the nylon resisting before finally yielding with a quiet *snap* of elastic. Mandy’s sigh above her was equal parts impatience and satisfaction, her fingers tangling in Katherine’s hair to guide her upward along the calf, where the fabric clung damply to toned muscle. “But if you bite me…” she held up, as if from no where, a couple of clothes pegs, and Katherine’s nipple throbbed in anticipation and fear.

Katherine’s breath hitched as she pressed her lips to the newly exposed arch of Mandy’s foot, her tongue tracing the damp outline where nylon had clung seconds before. The younger woman’s toes curled against her mouth—approval or warning, she wasn’t sure—as she worked her way higher, her teeth grazing the delicate skin behind Mandy’s knee where the tights bunched. The fabric resisted, stretched taut over quivering muscle, and Katherine hesitated, her lips parted around a mouthful of nylon, waiting for permission. Mandy’s hand fisted tighter in her hair. “*Tear*,” she breathed, and Katherine obeyed, wrenching her head sideways with a sharp jerk that sent threads snapping, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

The taste of Mandy’s sweat flooded her mouth as the nylon gave way, strands of black material clinging to her lips like spider silk. Katherine spat the ruined fabric onto the rug, her tongue darting out to catch a lingering thread as Mandy’s free foot hooked under her chin, forcing eye contact. “Messy,” the younger woman chided, dragging her toes through the spit-slick strands on Katherine’s lips before pressing down—just enough to make her jaw ache. A peg snapped open beside her ear, the metal spring grazing her cheekbone, and Katherine stilled, her breath coming too fast as Mandy’s fingers hovered over her tender nipple. “But i felt your teeth. I May have red marks thanks to you. Give me your nipples!”

Katherine struggled to her knees, her breasts rubbing on the rough fibres of the rug as she knelt before her mistress, eyes closed in anyicipation kf the imminent pain. The first touch was featherlight—Mandy’s thumb circling the hardened peak, rolling it between her fingers until Katherine’s back arched involuntarily, a whimper trapped in her throat. Then, without warning, the younger woman pinched hard, twisting the sensitive flesh just shy of unbearable before releasing it, leaving the nipple swollen and throbbing in the cool air. Katherine’s thighs clenched as Mandy repeated the torment on the other side, her breath hitching when the wooden jaws of the peg hovered millimeters from her skin, the anticipation worse than the bite.

The *snap* of the first peg sent a jolt through Katherine’s body—the initial sharp pinch blooming into a deep, persistent ache as the soft wood dug into tender flesh. She gasped, her bound hands twisting behind her as Mandy admired her handiwork, giving the attached clothespeg a cruel little tug that made Katherine’s knees buckle. The second peg found its mark just as brutally, the twin pressures pulling Katherine forward, tears in her eyes, her breasts swaying with each ragged breath. Mandy’s laughter was low and satisfied as she traced a fingernail down the quivering slope of Katherine’s breast, stopping just short of the pegs. “Beautiful,” she murmured, tapping one lightly, watching Katherine’s entire body flinch.

Then, with a sigh, Mandy sat back on the cushions, stretching her legs out before her, both feet bare and glistening with the faint sheen of sweat. Her hazel eyes darkened as she hooked her toes under Katherine’s chin again, forcing her head up. “Lick my feet, bitch,” she ordered, her voice lazy but edged with steel, her toes pressing insistently against Katherine’s parted lips. The older woman hesitated—just long enough for Mandy to arch an eyebrow and reach for the remaining pegs—before leaning forward, her tongue darting out to trace the salty curve of Mandy’s instep.

Katherine’s tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, mapping every ridge and callus, her lips closing around Mandy’s toes one by one, sucking gently as she tasted the lingering musk of nylon and exertion. The younger woman’s breath hitched—just slightly—but Katherine caught it, her own pulse spiking as she scraped her teeth lightly over the ball of Mandy’s foot, earning a sharp gasp and a tightening grip in her hair. “Good,” Mandy purred, her hips shifting subtly against the cushions, her free foot dragging down Katherine’s chest to press against her pegged nipple, the pressure just shy of agony.

The rhythm changed when Mandy’s fingers twisted tighter in Katherine’s hair, forcing her head back abruptly, a string of saliva still connecting her tongue to the arch of Mandy’s foot. “Now the other one,” Mandy commanded, her voice thick with something darker, her eyes flicking to the discarded pegs beside her. Katherine obeyed, her mouth closing around Mandy’s left toes, her tongue working between them with shameless precision, her own arousal a throbbing counterpoint to the ache in her breasts. Mandy’s thighs tensed, her toes curling against Katherine’s tongue as she let out a slow, controlled exhale—the only sign she was affected.

Katherine continued to lick and suck until her tormentors feet we slick with the spittle of her slave. Her moans had been rising as the tongue probed betweel each to and ran from heel to nail tip. Suddenly this scene was shattered by a singke word:

“Enough.” The word cracked like the spoon had earlier, and Katherine pulled back instantly, her lips wet and swollen. Mandy’s gaze raked over her, lingering on the pegs still clamped mercilessly to her nipples, before flicking downward. “Show me your feet,” she demanded, her own soles pressing flat against the rug as she leaned forward. Katherine hesitated—bare feet were one thing, but this felt like surrender—until Mandy’s hand hovered over a peg, her fingers poised to twist. With a shaky breath, Katherine began to twist, lifting one foot, curling her toes instinctively as they were exposed to Mandy’s scrutiny.

“Filthy bitch.” She snapped. Katherine had walked for less than ten minutes , but the pavements were merciless and far from clean.

“Down!” Mandy barked, her hand slamming between Katherine’s shoulder blades, forcing her face-first onto the rug—straight onto her pegged nipples. The older woman screamed into the wool fibers as the wooden jaws drove deeper into tender flesh, her body convulsing against the restraints. Mandy’s knee pinned her legs as rope hissed through her fingers, looping around Katherine’s ankles with brutal efficiency. Each tug cinched the hogtie tighter, her shoulders screaming as her wrists were wrenched toward her bound feet, her spine bowing until she could feel the pegs scraping the rug with every ragged breath. Mandy added a further rooe around her elbows pulling them tight and adding further strain to the poorvwoman’s shoulders.

‘Your feet are filthy and youndeserve to be punished for it. Butbyou will beg me to punish you. And co7nt. Carefully or wecstartvagain.” With that she tapped the wooden spoon firmly onto the sole of Katherine’s left foot.

Katherine gasped, toes curling instinctively—then froze as Mandy’s nails dug warningly into her thigh. “Please mistress, punish my dirty bare feet.” The first strike landed with a crisp *smack* across her arch, the pain radiating outward in bright, stinging waves. "O-one!" Katherine choked out, her voice muffled against the rug, her body trembling as the spoon traced lazy circles on the sensitive skin between strokes. Mandy exhaled sharply, her next blow landing harder, just below the toes—the exact spot that made Katherine’s hips jerk involuntarily. "T-two!" she cried, her bound hands clenching behind her as the pegs bit deeper with each movement.

“Please mistress punish my dirty bare feet.”

The spoon cracked down again, this time diagonally across both soles, the impact sending shockwaves up Katherine’s legs. “Three!” she sobbed, her toes splaying involuntarily as the sting settled into a deep, throbbing burn. Mandy’s fingers slid between her toes, spreading them wider before delivering a sharp rap to the tender pad beneath each one—methodical, relentless. “F-four—ah! Five!” Katherine’s voice broke as the fifth strike landed directly on her heel, the pain so sudden and white-hot that her entire body jerked against the ropes, the pegs tearing at her nipples with the movement.

“I have to pick the kids up at three thirty. That gives us just over five and a half hours. Think you’re up to it?”

Katherinscwhimpered, trying tomhold back the tears. “Iv3 been a bad gurl mistress. Please punish my dirty bare feet.”

[LunaDog]

And they say, in this modern world, that there is NO interaction between neighbours anymore! Utterly superb!

[JulieG]

What an excellent tale of mutual abuse and a little….. age inversion transfer of power.