Her Pro-Domme Stepmom

Sophia watched her stepdaughter come through the door, shoulders heavy, voice flat. Demi mumbled something about her girlfriend and the pressure of always having to play the strong one. Then she confessed the real trouble: she wanted to be tied and spanked, but her girlfriend insisted any woman should be free of such desires. Sophia set her wine glass down. “I’m bisexual,” she said quietly, “and I make my living as a professional dominatrix.” Demi’s mouth opened, shut again. Her eyes drifted over the calm, confident woman she’d known only as her stepmother until that moment. Sophia explained the exchange of power, how the submissive held the real control because nothing happened without clear consent. Demi listened, color rising in her cheeks. When she finally spoke, her voice shook. “Would you do it to me? Right now?” The living-room light stayed low. Sophia stood, removed her heels, and stepped closer. Her blonde hair brushed Demi’s shoulder as she circled her, one hand settling at the small of the girl’s back. With a single tug she pulled the sweater over Demi’s head. Red hair tumbled loose. Sophia cupped the weight of her stepdaughter’s natural breasts, thumbs brushing the already tight nipples before she guided Demi forward over the arm of the couch. She slipped the girl’s skirt and panties down in one motion. Her palm warmed the bare skin for a moment, then delivered the first measured smack. Demi gasped, hips jerking. Sophia’s fingers followed, sliding between parted thighs, tracing slick folds, then sinking two fingers deep inside. She pumped slowly, firmly, letting the rhythm build with every slap that landed lower, sharper, until Demi’s breath broke into soft, helpless cries.