Like mother like daughter. (M/FF)
Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2025 12:03 pm
A one off. All characters >18
The bed creaked louder than Jason had thought, but Emily just grinned at him, biting her lower lip. Her black tights made a soft shushing sound as she shifted them against each other, testing her restraint. "You're taking forever with those knots," she whispered, flexing her toes where the rope already coiled tight into her ankles as she rolled over placing her hands behind her back.
Jason exhaled through his nose, focusing on the loops around herwrists, then elbows. Emily's skirt rode up just enough to make his fingers hesitate—not from nerves, but from the sheer impossibility that this was happening at all. Her mom was supposed to be at a book club until nine. The house had been empty when they got here and they had the evenjng to themselves.
The rope burned slightly against his palms as he pulled it taut, around his gorlfriends chest securing the last knot. Emily tested the restraints with a slow, deliberate tug, then smirked. "Better," she murmured. The blindfold was next—a black silk scarf she'd taken from her mum’s wardfobe specifically for this. Jason leaned in, catching the faint vanilla-cherry scent of her lip gloss as he tied it behind her head.
A floorboard creaked somewhere downstairs. What?
Jason froze mid-motion, the blindfold’s silk tails still trailing between his fingers. Emily’s breath hitched—not in fear, but something sharper, almost exhilarating. Her lips parted like she might say something, then clamped shut. The house had been silent except for their breathing and the occasional rustle of rope. Now, the unmistakable sound of footsteps padded across the kitchen tiles. The fridge door clicked open.
Emily’s mother was home early.
Jason’s pulse hammered loud enough to drown out rational thought. He could chicken out; there was still time to untie Emily before her mum reached the stairs—but Emily shook her head sharply, her blindfolded face tilted toward the bedroom door like she could see through it. She jerked her chin downward, a silent command to stay. The ropes creaked as she twisted her wrists, deliberately scuffing the bedframe against the wall.
Downstairs, the fridge clicked shut. A pause. Then footsteps again—quieter but closer now, bare soles padding up the wooden steps. Jason’s mouth went dry. Emily’s breathing had gone shallow and quick, her chest rising visibly beneath her tight shirt. She angled her legs wider, making the skirt ride further up her thighs—not hiding what they’d been doing, but *flaunting* it. Jason’s stomach lurched.
The footsteps stopped outside the door. A heartbeat passed. Then the knob turned—slowly, like someone testing the weight of the moment. Jason couldn’t move. Emily’s lips curled into something between a grin and a grimace.
The door swung open. Emily’s mother stood there, a grocery bag dangling from one hand, her bare toes curling into the carpet. Her gaze flicked from Emily’s bound wrists to the rope around her ankles, kees and chest, then up to Jason’s frozen expression. For a second, no one breathed.
“Well,” her mother said finally, voice low and unreadable. She let the bag drop to the floor with a soft thud. “This explains why you missed my texts.” Her eyes roamed over the scene again, lingering on the way the ropes bit into Emily’s body causing bulges on her thighs and thristing her chest against her tight tshirt. the way her skirt clung precariously to her hips. Jason’s throat tightened. He expected shouting, outrage—not this eerie calm.
Emily tilted her head, the blindfold making her look strangely vulnerable despite the smirk still playing on her lips. “Mom, before you freak out—”
“Freak out?” Her mother cut her off, stepping fully into the room and kicking the door shut behind her with her bare heel. The sound made Jason flinch. “Sweetheart, I’m not the one tied up on a bed all helpless and vulnerable.” Her voice dripped with something darkly amused, and Jason’s brain short-circuited trying to parse it. “And im not freaking out. I’m joining in.”
Emily’s smirk faltered for the first time. “Wait—what?”
Her mother reached down, picking up a loose coil of rope Jason had left on the floor. She tested its strength between her hands, fingers moving with practiced ease. “You think I didn’t notice the missing scarves from my drawer last month?” She let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer to the bed. “Or the way you two always ‘study’ with the door locked?” Her bare feet whispered against the rug as she circled them, the rope trailing behind her like a second shadow.
Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, torn between helping Emily and—God, he didn’t even know what. The way Emily’s mother looked at him now wasn’t angry. It was *hungry*. Emily strained against her bonds, the bedpost creaking as she twisted to follow her mother’s movements despite the blindfold.
“Mom, this isn’t—this isn’t what you think,” she lied badly, her voice cracking.
“Jason. Can you gag my daughter please.” Not a question, an order as she kicked a roll of lurid pink tape towards him.
Emily made a choked sound of protest as Jason numbly reached for the tape. “And put a sock in it first.” He mither added. Emily’s lips parted automatically—muscle memory—before snapping shut again. “Mom, what the *fuck*—”
“Language,” her mother murmured, looping the extra rope around her own wrist with a slow, deliberate twist. She stepped closer until her bare toes bumped against Jason’s socked feet. Up close, he caught the faint scent of bergamot and something darker underneath—not perfume. Sweat. Her fingers brushed his as she took the gag from him, her nails leaving tiny crescents in his palm. She turned her back to hum holding her hands behind her. “Make it tight!”
Emily thrashed against the ropes, her thighs straining against the fabric of her skirt as it rode higher. “Mom, you can’t just—” The words dissolved into a muffled shriek as Jason shoved a black sock gag between her teeth, taping swiftly over her mouth and wrapping behind her head. Jason’s hands moved on autopilot, grabbing the rope her mother offered and looping it around her wrists in a crude imitation of the knots he’d practiced on Emily. His fingers trembled—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Emily’s mother exhaled sharply as the first knot tightened, her shoulders rolling against the restraint. “Better,” she muttered, testing the give. Then, without warning, she stepped back, pressing her back flush against Jason’s chest. The sudden warmth of her body sent a jolt through him. She craned her neck, her breath hot against his collarbone. “Now the elbows, Jason. And don’t be gentle.” Her jeans rasped as she shifted her weight, the faint outline of her bra strap visible beneath her fitted blouse.
Downstairs, the grandfather fridge rumbled on too loud, like a sound to mask malevolent deeds. Jason’s fingers fumbled with the rope, his knuckles brushing the soft swell of her breasts as he cinched the loops higher. Emily whimpered behind her gag, her blindfolded face jerking toward the sound of fabric rustling, her bound legs kicking uselessly at the duvet.
Her mother arched into the ropes deliberately, forcing Jason to tighten his grip. “Don’t just stand there,” she hissed, nodding toward Emily’s thrashing form. “Hogtie her.” Jason hesitated—this was Emily’s mother, for Christ’s sake—but the woman’s bare foot hooked around his ankle, yanking him forward. He stumbled onto the mattress, his weight pressing Emily’s thighs flat as her mother twisted free momentarily to snatch another length of rope from the floor with her toes. Emily’s muffled scream vibrated through the tape as her mother straddled her waist, her jeans stretching taut over muscular thighs.
Jason’s pulse hammered in his wrists as he looped the rope around Emily’s ankles and wrists , cinching them together while her mother pinned her shoulders down with her weighr. The scent of vanilla and cherry mingled with bergamot sweat now. The ropes bit deeper into Emily’s tights when Jason pulled the final knot tight behind her knees, forcing them toward her bound wrists.
Emily’s mother chuckled low in her throat as she shifted backwards off her daughter’s waist, her bare feet skimming the rumpled sheets. My turn,” she murmured, “And why dont you undo my blouse too?”
Emily let out a muffled shriek, bucking violently against the ropes, but Jason’s fingers were already moving—not toward buttons, but toward the remaining coils of rope tossed at his feet. The woman’s smirk faltered. “Jason?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he looped the rope around her waist in one fluid motion, cinching it tight enough to wrinkle her blouse before she could react. Her breath hitched—part shock, part something else—as he yanked the slack upward, forcing it through her arms then back between her legs. Wh—Jason!” The protest dissolved into a gasp as he knotted the rope between her legs in a tight crothc rope over her jeans.
Emily thrashed harder, her muffled screams now edged with panic. Her mother’s thighs flexed instinctively against the bite of the rope, her bare toes curling into the bedsheets. “Wait—*wait*—” Her voice cracked, eyes darting to Emily’s blindfolded face like she might find answers there. Jason worked silently, his fingers precise now, no longer trembling. The rope slid under her knees, threaded back up to her wrists, and suddenly she was folding forward, her face hovering inches above Emily’s gagged mouth.
A wet, desperate laugh escaped Emily’s mother as she tested the new restraints, her breath uneven. “You little *shit*,” she hissed at Jason—but the way her hips rocked against the rope betrayed her. Emily whimpered, straining to turn her head away from her mother’s hot, ragged breaths. The room smelled like sweat and vanilla and the faintest tang of laundry detergent—Emily’s shirt, twisted up now, her black tights splitting at the knee from how violently she’d struggled.
“Potty mouth.”mtaunted Kason as he pushed a knee length sock jnto her mouth before wrapping the pink tape around her head, covering her eues and nise a dozen times.
Emily’s mother thrashed violently, her gagged protests reduced to wet, choking sounds as the tape pressed her lips flat against her teeth. Jason worked methodically now, looping rope around her thighs just above the knees, pulling them back toward her chest until she was forced into a tight arched position. Her bare feet kicked uselessly at the air, toes curling like a cat’s claws unsheathing. He chest strained against the buttons of her blouse.
Emily lay rigid beside her mother, her blindfolded head twitching at every muffled grunt and creak of rope. The hogtie completed when Jason finally cinched the rope between her mother’s ankles and wrists, even adding her big toes to the bondage—forcing them uncomfortably together—leaving her utterly immobilized. The woman’s breath came in ragged bursts through her nose, her hips jerking involuntarily against the crotch rope trapped between her legs. A dark spot bloomed across the denim.
Jason unbuttoned her blouse one-handed, fingers lingering on each pearl button longer than necessary. The fabric parted to reveal a lacy black bra, its straps digging into flushed skin. He traced the indentation left by the elastic, then hooked a finger under the center clasp. Emily’s muffled shriek vibrated through the room as her mother arched violently—not in protest, but anticipation—her bare feet splaying wide before curling inward like a dying spider as jer boobs, free from their black lace prison, bounced around.
The air tasted metallic now, charged with sweat and something darker. Emily’s mother’s blouse slipped down her shoulders, pooling around her rope-bound elbows. Jason dragged the fabric slowly, letting the rough denim of her jeans rasp against heis own. She shuddered, her gagged mouth working soundlessly against the tape as he palmed her breast. A bead of sweat traced the valley between her breasts, disappearing under the taut fabric.
Then she shrieked into the folds of sock and layers of tape as his teeth gently closed on the erect bud.
The bed creaked louder than Jason had thought, but Emily just grinned at him, biting her lower lip. Her black tights made a soft shushing sound as she shifted them against each other, testing her restraint. "You're taking forever with those knots," she whispered, flexing her toes where the rope already coiled tight into her ankles as she rolled over placing her hands behind her back.
Jason exhaled through his nose, focusing on the loops around herwrists, then elbows. Emily's skirt rode up just enough to make his fingers hesitate—not from nerves, but from the sheer impossibility that this was happening at all. Her mom was supposed to be at a book club until nine. The house had been empty when they got here and they had the evenjng to themselves.
The rope burned slightly against his palms as he pulled it taut, around his gorlfriends chest securing the last knot. Emily tested the restraints with a slow, deliberate tug, then smirked. "Better," she murmured. The blindfold was next—a black silk scarf she'd taken from her mum’s wardfobe specifically for this. Jason leaned in, catching the faint vanilla-cherry scent of her lip gloss as he tied it behind her head.
A floorboard creaked somewhere downstairs. What?
Jason froze mid-motion, the blindfold’s silk tails still trailing between his fingers. Emily’s breath hitched—not in fear, but something sharper, almost exhilarating. Her lips parted like she might say something, then clamped shut. The house had been silent except for their breathing and the occasional rustle of rope. Now, the unmistakable sound of footsteps padded across the kitchen tiles. The fridge door clicked open.
Emily’s mother was home early.
Jason’s pulse hammered loud enough to drown out rational thought. He could chicken out; there was still time to untie Emily before her mum reached the stairs—but Emily shook her head sharply, her blindfolded face tilted toward the bedroom door like she could see through it. She jerked her chin downward, a silent command to stay. The ropes creaked as she twisted her wrists, deliberately scuffing the bedframe against the wall.
Downstairs, the fridge clicked shut. A pause. Then footsteps again—quieter but closer now, bare soles padding up the wooden steps. Jason’s mouth went dry. Emily’s breathing had gone shallow and quick, her chest rising visibly beneath her tight shirt. She angled her legs wider, making the skirt ride further up her thighs—not hiding what they’d been doing, but *flaunting* it. Jason’s stomach lurched.
The footsteps stopped outside the door. A heartbeat passed. Then the knob turned—slowly, like someone testing the weight of the moment. Jason couldn’t move. Emily’s lips curled into something between a grin and a grimace.
The door swung open. Emily’s mother stood there, a grocery bag dangling from one hand, her bare toes curling into the carpet. Her gaze flicked from Emily’s bound wrists to the rope around her ankles, kees and chest, then up to Jason’s frozen expression. For a second, no one breathed.
“Well,” her mother said finally, voice low and unreadable. She let the bag drop to the floor with a soft thud. “This explains why you missed my texts.” Her eyes roamed over the scene again, lingering on the way the ropes bit into Emily’s body causing bulges on her thighs and thristing her chest against her tight tshirt. the way her skirt clung precariously to her hips. Jason’s throat tightened. He expected shouting, outrage—not this eerie calm.
Emily tilted her head, the blindfold making her look strangely vulnerable despite the smirk still playing on her lips. “Mom, before you freak out—”
“Freak out?” Her mother cut her off, stepping fully into the room and kicking the door shut behind her with her bare heel. The sound made Jason flinch. “Sweetheart, I’m not the one tied up on a bed all helpless and vulnerable.” Her voice dripped with something darkly amused, and Jason’s brain short-circuited trying to parse it. “And im not freaking out. I’m joining in.”
Emily’s smirk faltered for the first time. “Wait—what?”
Her mother reached down, picking up a loose coil of rope Jason had left on the floor. She tested its strength between her hands, fingers moving with practiced ease. “You think I didn’t notice the missing scarves from my drawer last month?” She let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer to the bed. “Or the way you two always ‘study’ with the door locked?” Her bare feet whispered against the rug as she circled them, the rope trailing behind her like a second shadow.
Jason’s hands twitched at his sides, torn between helping Emily and—God, he didn’t even know what. The way Emily’s mother looked at him now wasn’t angry. It was *hungry*. Emily strained against her bonds, the bedpost creaking as she twisted to follow her mother’s movements despite the blindfold.
“Mom, this isn’t—this isn’t what you think,” she lied badly, her voice cracking.
“Jason. Can you gag my daughter please.” Not a question, an order as she kicked a roll of lurid pink tape towards him.
Emily made a choked sound of protest as Jason numbly reached for the tape. “And put a sock in it first.” He mither added. Emily’s lips parted automatically—muscle memory—before snapping shut again. “Mom, what the *fuck*—”
“Language,” her mother murmured, looping the extra rope around her own wrist with a slow, deliberate twist. She stepped closer until her bare toes bumped against Jason’s socked feet. Up close, he caught the faint scent of bergamot and something darker underneath—not perfume. Sweat. Her fingers brushed his as she took the gag from him, her nails leaving tiny crescents in his palm. She turned her back to hum holding her hands behind her. “Make it tight!”
Emily thrashed against the ropes, her thighs straining against the fabric of her skirt as it rode higher. “Mom, you can’t just—” The words dissolved into a muffled shriek as Jason shoved a black sock gag between her teeth, taping swiftly over her mouth and wrapping behind her head. Jason’s hands moved on autopilot, grabbing the rope her mother offered and looping it around her wrists in a crude imitation of the knots he’d practiced on Emily. His fingers trembled—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
Emily’s mother exhaled sharply as the first knot tightened, her shoulders rolling against the restraint. “Better,” she muttered, testing the give. Then, without warning, she stepped back, pressing her back flush against Jason’s chest. The sudden warmth of her body sent a jolt through him. She craned her neck, her breath hot against his collarbone. “Now the elbows, Jason. And don’t be gentle.” Her jeans rasped as she shifted her weight, the faint outline of her bra strap visible beneath her fitted blouse.
Downstairs, the grandfather fridge rumbled on too loud, like a sound to mask malevolent deeds. Jason’s fingers fumbled with the rope, his knuckles brushing the soft swell of her breasts as he cinched the loops higher. Emily whimpered behind her gag, her blindfolded face jerking toward the sound of fabric rustling, her bound legs kicking uselessly at the duvet.
Her mother arched into the ropes deliberately, forcing Jason to tighten his grip. “Don’t just stand there,” she hissed, nodding toward Emily’s thrashing form. “Hogtie her.” Jason hesitated—this was Emily’s mother, for Christ’s sake—but the woman’s bare foot hooked around his ankle, yanking him forward. He stumbled onto the mattress, his weight pressing Emily’s thighs flat as her mother twisted free momentarily to snatch another length of rope from the floor with her toes. Emily’s muffled scream vibrated through the tape as her mother straddled her waist, her jeans stretching taut over muscular thighs.
Jason’s pulse hammered in his wrists as he looped the rope around Emily’s ankles and wrists , cinching them together while her mother pinned her shoulders down with her weighr. The scent of vanilla and cherry mingled with bergamot sweat now. The ropes bit deeper into Emily’s tights when Jason pulled the final knot tight behind her knees, forcing them toward her bound wrists.
Emily’s mother chuckled low in her throat as she shifted backwards off her daughter’s waist, her bare feet skimming the rumpled sheets. My turn,” she murmured, “And why dont you undo my blouse too?”
Emily let out a muffled shriek, bucking violently against the ropes, but Jason’s fingers were already moving—not toward buttons, but toward the remaining coils of rope tossed at his feet. The woman’s smirk faltered. “Jason?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he looped the rope around her waist in one fluid motion, cinching it tight enough to wrinkle her blouse before she could react. Her breath hitched—part shock, part something else—as he yanked the slack upward, forcing it through her arms then back between her legs. Wh—Jason!” The protest dissolved into a gasp as he knotted the rope between her legs in a tight crothc rope over her jeans.
Emily thrashed harder, her muffled screams now edged with panic. Her mother’s thighs flexed instinctively against the bite of the rope, her bare toes curling into the bedsheets. “Wait—*wait*—” Her voice cracked, eyes darting to Emily’s blindfolded face like she might find answers there. Jason worked silently, his fingers precise now, no longer trembling. The rope slid under her knees, threaded back up to her wrists, and suddenly she was folding forward, her face hovering inches above Emily’s gagged mouth.
A wet, desperate laugh escaped Emily’s mother as she tested the new restraints, her breath uneven. “You little *shit*,” she hissed at Jason—but the way her hips rocked against the rope betrayed her. Emily whimpered, straining to turn her head away from her mother’s hot, ragged breaths. The room smelled like sweat and vanilla and the faintest tang of laundry detergent—Emily’s shirt, twisted up now, her black tights splitting at the knee from how violently she’d struggled.
“Potty mouth.”mtaunted Kason as he pushed a knee length sock jnto her mouth before wrapping the pink tape around her head, covering her eues and nise a dozen times.
Emily’s mother thrashed violently, her gagged protests reduced to wet, choking sounds as the tape pressed her lips flat against her teeth. Jason worked methodically now, looping rope around her thighs just above the knees, pulling them back toward her chest until she was forced into a tight arched position. Her bare feet kicked uselessly at the air, toes curling like a cat’s claws unsheathing. He chest strained against the buttons of her blouse.
Emily lay rigid beside her mother, her blindfolded head twitching at every muffled grunt and creak of rope. The hogtie completed when Jason finally cinched the rope between her mother’s ankles and wrists, even adding her big toes to the bondage—forcing them uncomfortably together—leaving her utterly immobilized. The woman’s breath came in ragged bursts through her nose, her hips jerking involuntarily against the crotch rope trapped between her legs. A dark spot bloomed across the denim.
Jason unbuttoned her blouse one-handed, fingers lingering on each pearl button longer than necessary. The fabric parted to reveal a lacy black bra, its straps digging into flushed skin. He traced the indentation left by the elastic, then hooked a finger under the center clasp. Emily’s muffled shriek vibrated through the room as her mother arched violently—not in protest, but anticipation—her bare feet splaying wide before curling inward like a dying spider as jer boobs, free from their black lace prison, bounced around.
The air tasted metallic now, charged with sweat and something darker. Emily’s mother’s blouse slipped down her shoulders, pooling around her rope-bound elbows. Jason dragged the fabric slowly, letting the rough denim of her jeans rasp against heis own. She shuddered, her gagged mouth working soundlessly against the tape as he palmed her breast. A bead of sweat traced the valley between her breasts, disappearing under the taut fabric.
Then she shrieked into the folds of sock and layers of tape as his teeth gently closed on the erect bud.