When’s my baby coming home to Mommy? She misses you~

I practically choked as I read the text, slamming my phone face-down on my desk as my face burned bright red. I was at work! She couldn’t send me stuff like that here! What if someone had seen it over my shoulder!

I fidgeted awkwardly in my seat for a moment or two. As I felt the heat subside in my face, I slowly reached out to the phone, lifting it up carefully, as though I was worried it might explode. Slumping deep in my chair, collapsing in on myself in excited embarrassment, I wrote her back.

i’ve still got a couple hours to go, I wrote, as though she didn’t know that full-well. I knew what she was asking.

Can’t you get out early? I had work to do, I should really be focusing on the spreadsheet in front of me and not on her.

i have a lot on my plate still, i should try to get some more of it cleared off before the vacation. We’d agreed a little while back: I wasn’t allowed to use capital letters when messaging her. It was kind of a silly idea, something neither of us were sure would really stick, but it turned out to be hotter than we’d expected. Just, having to make the conscious decision to type in a different way when speaking to her, to make myself “smaller” in even this abstract way, to have to tell my phone’s autocorrect that no, I didn’t mean to use proper capitalization, because I was less than that… yeah, yeah that did something for me. It did something for the both of us.

Good little boys are supposed to come when Mommy calls them. I swallowed, my face flushing anew. She was just the worst. She knew every button to push, and when she wanted something, she wouldn’t relent until she got it.

I loved her.

yes mommy

I looked up from my phone and toward my workstation, eyes scanning the endless columns of data. Screw it. I wasn’t going to get anything done for the rest of the afternoon anyway after she wound me up like that. I put my laptop to sleep and wandered over to the doorway of my manager’s office.

“Hey, Jason,” I said, clearing my throat, hypervigilant that the mood I was in didn’t sneak into my voice. “I don’t really have anything going on that won’t keep ‘til I’m back, unless you’ve got something major for me I think I’m gonna sneak out of here early.”

Jason looked at the clock. “2:30? Yeah, what the hell, get outta here. Any big plans for your vacation?”

I shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “Nothing in particular. Just some quality time with the girlfriend.”

“Nice. Well yeah, don’t let me keep you. Have a good one, see you in a week!.”

“You too!”

Emma and I started dating about eight months ago, right around the beginning of the year. I am… I’m just completely crazy about her. We hit it off right away on our first date, and I’ve been smitten ever since. She has such a warm, open heart. It’s so easy to just… be yourself, around her, you know? I can let down my walls with her, be vulnerable in a way that I’ve never been with anybody else.

Which is why, a month into our relationship, I told her the truth when she asked me about what turned me on. I revealed something that I’d never shared before, something that I wasn’t always willing to even admit to myself. Sure, it took her a little bit of prodding before she coaxed it out of me, but eventually, I managed to mumble out the answer.

“I’m, um… I’m into like… mommy domme, type stuff…” I couldn’t meet her gaze while I admitted it, but when I finally looked up at her, she was just smiling, crystal blue eyes glistening in the soft morning light of the bedroom.

“Like… diapers, that kind of thing?” her question was genuine, without a shred of judgment. She was just trying to understand.

“No! No. That’s… no. That kinda like… I dunno, ‘age regression’ or whatever you call it, not for me.”

“Then… what is for you? I’m not sure I get it.” Her voice was so soft and gentle, like she was trying to convince a deer not to run away.

“I… I dunno. I just, um. I guess I like the idea of… being taken care of? But in like… I don’t know, a controlling sort of way. Like, like, domination and submission type stuff, I guess, but not with whips or leather or, or nipple clamps or whatever. That’s not… It’s almost more of an attitude thing than anything else, you know? I like the idea of a woman having, I dunno, um… quiet authority over me, I guess would be one way to say it? Of, of, of being less than my partner in some way, but still loved and cherished.”

“Like a pet?”

“Kind of, I guess. I dunno. That’s close but it doesn’t quite feel right.”

“You just… want to be mommied.” She smiled a little, scooting closer to me in the bed. My eyes were drawn to the way the covers shifted over the hypnotic curves of her body, to the cleavage peaking out from the edge of the topsheet.

“Y-yeah.”

“You want someone who takes care of you,” she said, scooting closer still. “Who loves you more than anything.” She slid one leg over my body. “Who would do anything for you.” She slowly rolled on top of me and rose up, straddling my waist, morning sunbeams dancing through her golden hair as she smiled warmly down at me over the swell of her chest. “But you want all that love to come at a price.” I was paralyzed as she eased forward, tracing my arms with her fingertips, from my shoulders down to my hands. Her breasts swayed gently as she moved and I was transfixed. “You want to be loved, but you also want to be dominated.” She pressed her palms down hard, pinning my hands to the bed. Physically, I could’ve broken the hold. Physically. “You want someone who loves you to bits, but she’s also the boss. You do anything she says. She doesn’t need to threaten you with punishments or even raise her voice, because you’re so addicted to her affection that you can’t possibly hope to disobey her. And she loves you all the more for what a good, sweet, obedient little boy you are.” She started to gyrate her hips. My pulsing member emerged from the fly of my boxers and I shuddered as I felt the gentle friction of it rubbing against her silk panties. A small, high-pitched whine escaped my lips.

“Am I getting the basic idea?”

I stammered and groaned.

“Use your words, sweetie.”

“Y-y-yes…”

She smiled, eyes half-lidded. “Yeah. I think I can see the appeal.” And with that, she descended upon me.

It hadn’t been a kink Emma had ever really considered before, but it didn’t take long at all for us to realize that she was into it just as much as I was. Maybe even more. It started small—I started calling her “Mommy” in the bedroom, and she started taking much more of a “leading” role in our lovemaking, always either on top or giving me directions to follow in her “mommy voice,” calm and sweet yet commanding at the same time, a sultry, husky register that short-circuited my brain a little anytime I heard it. Gradually, the voice started to extend out of the bedroom and into other facets of our lives. More and more over time, she stopped asking for favors and started issuing commands. She’d place a possessive hand on me anytime I was within reach, and if I ever tried to argue with her about anything, she’d just drop into that voice, slip a hand under the back of my shirt, and start scratching at a sensitive spot between my shoulder blades with her immaculately manicured nails. I’d be instantly reduced to a puddle.

As time went on, Emma even started pushing to explore our dynamic more in public. To be honest, that was a little much for me. I mean, it was hot, it was insanely hot… but indulging in my fetish where other people could see made me a little too self-conscious to really enjoy it. She respected that; sure, she could win any argument with those nails of hers, but she never pressured me into something I actually didn’t want. Still, she’d make all sorts of little suggestions, nudging and pushing and testing the edges of my boundaries, gradually convincing me to let our little dynamic define more and more of our lives. These days, she plans pretty much all of our time together, she orders for me at restaurants, and every now and then the mommy voice will come out while we’re in public, leaving me an embarrassed, flustered mess, unable to meet the eyes of anyone around us as she just smugly smiles. I’m still not ready to call her “Mommy” in public, but she’ll probably convince me eventually. She’s pretty good at getting her way.

And I love her for it.

I’ll admit, there’s a part of me that sometimes feels a little bit of wounded male pride, that feels like I’m letting all this get a little out of hand and that I should talk to her about reeling it back. For instance, last month she put me on a strict diet, one that often left my stomach growling, and banned any kind of muscle-building exercise. She wants me to cut enough weight that I can sit comfortably on her lap, and she wants to see if she can get stronger than me. Which is just… so fucking hot, but also, yeah, it’s kind of extreme, right? I… we might be letting our fetish rule our lives a little too much.

But, at the same time… what’s the harm? I’ve met an absolutely amazing woman, who’s kind and sweet and loving and drop-dead gorgeous besides, and she’s become fixated on indulging and sharing my deepest sexual fantasies at any possible opportunity. It makes her happy and it makes me happy, so what’s the problem?

And God did she make me happy.

I pulled my car up to the curb outside the small house she rented. I still had my own place, for now, but I barely spent any time there anymore. I’d almost certainly be moving in with her once my lease was up. I felt a pang of nerves as I looked at the door through the windshield, my breath quickening slightly as I rubbed my forearms. This week off work had been Emma’s idea. She had some kind of big surprise planned; she wouldn’t tell me any details, other than guaranteeing me that I’d like it. I was excited, but I also knew her well enough to know that probably meant she’d thought up some kind of new domination game to play. How far was she going to push the envelope? How far was I going to let her?

My phone dinged. Are you going to come in, or will I have to come out there and get you?

I swallowed, got out of the car, and headed up to the door.

As I entered, the smell was the first thing that hit me, sweet and rich and warm. Emma was humming softly from the kitchen, and I could hear the soft, rhythmic sound of her stirring something. She stopped and emerged into the living room, where I stood dumbfounded, jaw drooping as I took her in.

Emma was stunning. Even more than usual. A soft, round face framing two gorgeous doe-like eyes, and a thick, statuesque figure, just a few inches shorter than me. Her hair, a gorgeous golden shade somewhere between blonde and brunette, was teased, styled and curled into a complex up-do, bouncing waves of amber swaying with every step she took. She was wearing a powder-blue plaid dress, and over that an apron with thick frills, tied with a large ribbon poking out from behind her back. It’d be a modest, conservative outfit if not for the way she filled it out, the apron straining against her breasts, her wide, inviting hips making the dress’ skirt flare. She looked like something between a 50s pin-up model and Betty Crocker, like she was trying and utterly failing to be anything less than the sexiest woman of all time.

She topped the outfit off with a pair of ruby-red stilettos, the same shade as her lipstick and nails. I recognized them immediately; they were the only shoes she had that made her taller than me, albeit by just a hair. It didn’t matter, it was enough to drive me absolutely wild, that feeling of having to turn my gaze up just ever so slightly to meet her eyes. I never knew I had a thing for height until she bought them, but I liked it so much that she refused to wear them unless it was a special occasion.

Like today, apparently.

“You like?” she said, giggling a little. “I was worried I was overdoing it a little."

“Y-y…” I stopped and swallowed, my mouth dry. “You look incredible.”

She beamed at the compliment. “Thank you, baby.” Slowly, she sauntered toward me. I stood frozen as she closed the distance, softly pressing her plush body against mine as she wrapped her arms around me. And then, there it was: I tilted my head back just a little, stood up just a tiny bit straighter than was natural in order for my lips to meet hers, and I immediately let out an utterly pathetic little moan.

“God, you’re so fucking cute,” she whispered, lips brushing against mine as she spoke.

“I love you, Momm—” I was cut off by her tongue thrusting deep into my mouth, her hands eagerly un-tucking my dress shirt.

“This week,” she said, stooping to kiss my neck and jawline, “is all about you. I have such a big, wonderful surprise for you, sweetheart.”

Her fingers slipped under my shirt and—mmph. She scratched at that spot on my back, the one she always knows how to find, and I gasped, inhaling her scent. She smelled like sugar and vanilla.

“D-does… does the surprise have to do with what you’re baking?”

She grinned. “As a matter of fact, it does. I’ve got the first batch of cookies cooling on the counter, another in the oven, and a bowl of dough ready to start a third.”

“What about my diet?”

“Hmm, good point. I guess you’ll have to earn them first.”

“How?”

Still grinning, she broke our embrace and walked to the sofa, hips swaying hypnotically. She sat down, legs spreading in a decidedly unladylike fashion.

“Like I said, baby. This entire week is all about you. But before we get to any of that, these first few moments are about me.” Her voice turned deep and sultry. “On your knees.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. In seconds I was between her thick, supple thighs, lapping eagerly at her womanhood—of course she wasn’t wearing anything under that dress. My hands explored her legs and ass, massaging and squeezing as my tongue worked away at her clit.

“Good boy… good boy… GOOD BOY!” Moaning, she lifted her feet and wrapped her legs around me. She squeezed so hard it hurt a little as her body trembled in ecstasy, heels digging slightly into my back. I slowly relented as she faded out of her orgasm, but I didn’t move, opting instead to nuzzle closely against her under her dress.

“You…” she said, panting slightly, “definitely deserve a cookie after that.”

Slowly, so as not to tarnish the mood, she peeled back her dress and placed a firm but gentle hand on me to push me away, rising to head into the kitchen. I pulled myself up onto the couch while I waited, knees aching slightly, the taste of her still heavy in my mouth.

She was only gone a moment, but even that was enough time for me to be stunned by her beauty all over again when she returned carrying a plate of cookies, a few wisps of steam still rolling off of them, molten chocolate chips shimmering in the light. Her face was still flushed, which couldn’t help but give me a little shot of pride.

“Before we get to these,” she said, setting the plate down on the coffee table and sitting down next to me, cuddling close. “We should talk about the rest of your surprise.”

“O-okay.” The longer she held me in suspense, the more nervous it made me.

“When you told me about your kink all those months back, I got pretty excited. It really… flipped a switch in me. I was so eager to experiment and explore it with you. But… I was also a little nervous.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

She flashed me another smile. “Well, I was trying to. But, I wasn’t really sure where to start with things, how to really go about being a, you know, a mommy-domme.”

“I remember you falling into it pretty naturally right away.”

“Hush. I’m speaking.” Her voice was stern, but her smile betrayed her. “I felt like I needed help to do it right. So, I started doing some research online.”

“Okay…?” Where was this going?

“I ended up stumbling on… I guess you’d call it a ‘local scene?’ A few other women in the area that are into this kind of thing. Mostly just talking about it, really, or swapping…” she paused, blushing a little. It wasn’t common to see her get embarrassed. “Swapping porn. It’s really hard to find good stuff, you know? Especially stuff geared toward women.”

“Sure, yeah. I can imagine.”

“And actually finding a guy to do that stuff with, for real? Insanely difficult. You know how guys can be, even if they’re into that kind of thing they don’t want to admit it. The girls who tried usually got dumped over it. They’d taken a few weekend group trips up to the city for kink parties, but none of them had managed to find what they were really looking for: a committed, long-term relationship where they got to play the role of Mommy full-time. Bummer, right?”

“Yeah…” I mean, yeah, that did sound like a bummer. But I still wasn’t sure what it was leading up to.

“Lurking their little subreddit—I mean, we’re talking just three women, here—I actually got a little nervous about posting in it. I didn’t want to feel like I was bragging, you know? But when I finally worked up the nerve to post something, all three of them jumped on it with questions and support. They were so excited for me! And so full of ideas.”

“L-like what?”

She smirked. “Like, most of the stuff I’ve been doing for the last 6 months, hah. I mean, even this dress was picked out by my friend Amy, we met up last weekend and she designed this whole look for me. I told you, I was totally out of my depth here, but they really helped me with being the best Mommy for my little Liam.”

I felt the heat build in my cheeks and I instinctively nuzzled closer to her, seeking comfort from the embarrassment that she herself had induced in me. “I-I guess I’ll have to thank them.”

She kissed my head softly. “Great idea. They’ll be here any minute now.”

“What? Wait, what?”

Emma giggled softly. “That’s your surprise, baby. For the next week, you’re not going to have just one Mommy. You’re gonna have four beautiful, sexy women pampering you, doting on you, dominating you. The four of us are gonna Mommy your brains out.”

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on!” I said, panicking. “I… I don’t know about this.”

“Liam, sweetie, these are Mommy’s friends. Don’t you want to show them what a good boy you are?”

Her words sent a flood of electricity through my nerves, but I swallowed and pushed the feeling down. “No, Emma, I’m being serious.” It wasn’t a “safe word,” exactly, but if I was using Emma’s real name then it was a pretty big sign that I wanted to pump the brakes. She sat back slightly, letting me talk. “Listen, this… I mean, I don’t wanna put a damper on your plans here or, or disappoint anybody, but I don’t know if I can… I mean, I’ve only ever really… done this around you! I don’t know that I’ll be comfortable letting three total strangers… I mean… I just don’t think I can really do that!”

Emma smiled softly, nodding. “See, that is exactly how I thought you’d react. And that’s where the cookies come in.”

Confused, I turned to the plate on the coffee table. “What do cookies have to do…?”

“They’ve got a special ingredient in them. Something that’ll… well, it’ll help you get a little more in-character.”

“What? You spiked these with something?”

She just smiled innocently. “Wanna try one?”

“Wait. Wait. What’s in them?”

“I already said.”

“No you didn’t. Like, what specifically did you put in them?”

“Medicine that’s very good for little boys. Medicine that little boys will like a lot.”

“Emma, I’m not kidding. I’m not doing drugs without even knowing what it is I’m doing. Getting high around your friends is even less appealing to me than role-playing with them.”

“They won’t get you high.”

“What do you mean! What is it then? Why are you being so cagey about this?”

“Well,” she said, sitting back. “Two reasons. First of all, I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you what they do. But more importantly… I just really want to surprise you with it. I promise you’ll like it, Liam. In fact you’re gonna love it. And if you don’t, we’ll call the whole thing off. I already told everyone that you might not be into this. If you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, just say the word and we’ll go for something more low-key. Just have some coffee, get you more introduced to everyone, and, maybe we can see about trying again sometime down the line. But…” she leaned forward and plucked a cookie off the plate, offering it to me. “It would make me really, really happy if you trusted me and gave this a try. I love you, Liam. I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

I eyed the cookie suspiciously, then looked up to meet her gaze, soft and sincere. I felt my resolve slowly starting to crumble.

“I’ll have one. And I’m not promising anything about what will happen with your friends.”

“That’s totally fine. The only thing I’d ask is for you to keep an open mind.”

“And you’re having one too. And so are the rest of them, if… you know, if things go the way you want them to.”

Emma broke out into a big smile, as if I’d just said the exact thing she’d been waiting to hear. “I already planned to. But you first.”

Slowly, I took the cookie from her hand. It was still warm. I brought it to my mouth, Emma watching excitedly as I opened up and slowly, trepidatiously sunk my teeth into the soft crust and gooey chocolate.

Any sense of caution melted out of me as soon as the cookie hit my taste buds. Fuck me did it taste good! Sugar and chocolate and warmth and comfort coating my mouth as I chewed, savoring the experience as a low “mmmm” rolled slowly out of me. The cookie was finished in seconds, and I immediately started to reach for another before I remembered that they were laced with something.

“So, um. When does it kick in?”

“Shouldn’t be long,” Emma said, grinning wildly as she studied me with her gorgeous sapphire eyes. I couldn’t help myself and reached out to kiss her.

As soon as I did, I felt something odd. A soothing wave of euphoria overcame me, my whole body tingling. I felt the material of my clothes brushing softly against my skin, and that gentle sensation was almost too much for me to bear. I laughed, nervously at first, but it slowly devolved into a giggling fit. I lifted up my hand to cover my mouth…

…And realized that the cuff of my sleeve was riding up onto my hand.

“What… what’s happening?” I said, subduing my laughter. Emma studied me with hungry fascination.

“Stand up, baby.” She rose to her feet and offered me her hand, and as I took it I felt another explosion of sensation as her skin touched mine. It made my knees weak and made standing more difficult than expected.

I was shaken out of my euphoria as I felt my pants begin to slip from my waist, and shot a hand out to catch them. What the hell? I tugged at my belt; it was still fastened tightly, and yet my pants were looser than they should’ve been even without it. I stared down at them quizzically, and regarded with equal confusion the way my shirt seemed to sag and wrinkle on my frame.

Emma’s fingers were suddenly at my chin, pressing gently to direct my gaze back toward her. I looked up at her… and realized only after a moment or two that I was looking up at her, and not by just a little bit. Her crimson lips were level with my eyes, and as I stared in wild-eyed shock, I saw them gradually creeping higher. My sleeves continued to slowly consume my hands and I realized that, somehow, I was getting shorter.

Emma quickly had her arms around me, pulling me tightly against her. “Shh, shh, it’s okay baby. Mommy’s got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

As she held me, I slowly realized that I wasn’t just getting shorter. I could feel the power in her arms, feel her seeming to grow thicker and sturdier in my embrace. My shirt sleeves weren’t just getting longer, they were getting baggier, my arms filling them out less and less. Even my collar was starting to sag a little, creeping larger and larger around my neck.

I was shrinking.

I probably would have burst into full-blown panic if not for Emma’s tight embrace, filling me with calming warmth. Her nails gently scratched at my scalp as she softly shushed me, and I got lost in her love as I shrank into her arms.

When the sensation finally subsided, she gave me one last squeeze before pushing me away from her slightly. My eye level had drifted down so that I was staring into her throat. I slowly craned my neck up, my eyes inching up her neck into her beautiful smiling face, the light catching her hair and almost giving it a halo effect as looked down at me with loving eyes.I couldn’t have lost more than six inches or so, but I may as well have been the size of a mouse, the way I felt staring up at her like that.

“Mommy.” I wasn’t really addressing her, or expressing affection, or saying much of anything at all beyond merely identifying her. My loss in size made it seem as though she’d grown, stretched taller and wider and thicker and stronger, and my conscious brain was so overwhelmed taking her in that all it could do is sputter out what she undeniably was to me, now more than ever. My Mommy.

Before she could answer, there was a knock at the door.