The Real Mother Goose Read online

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design: Selena Kitt

  The Real Mother Goose © 2009 Selena Kitt

  eXcessica publishing

  All rights reserved

  The Real Mother Goose

  By Selena Kitt

  Preface

  No one ever gets these things right.

  Yes, Mother Goose—that’s me! What threw you off—the garters and stockings and black leather whip? Like I said, no one ever gets these things right. Father Goose says they’ve twisted all my stories around, and according to the books he brought home with him after he crossed back over, they all claim I never existed at all! I guess, historically speaking, that’s true. I never did really exist in that world. From what I hear, it’s dreadfully dull. I’m sure I would just be bored. It’s probably better that the real stories never made it out. I don’t know that the Earthfolk were ready for them.

  Chapter One

  Little Bo Peep

  Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep

  And can’t tell where to find them.

  Leave them alone,

  And they’ll come home,

  Wagging their tails behind them.

  “Peep!” The voice shook the room and the startled girl looked up as Mother came in. “Do you know where your sheep are now?”

  “No, Mother.” The girl looked up from her position, kneeling on the floor, her blue eyes wide. “I penned them before I left, I swear it.”

  Mother Goose came toward her, the high heels of her soft boots clicking on the floor. She squatted down before Peep, whose hands were bound behind her to her feet with pink satin sashes.

  “You are a pretty little one.” Mother lifted the girl’s chin and studied her face, her gaze moving over the girl’s body, the pink and white corset drawn tight, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders, partially hiding Peep’s rosy little nipples. “Sometimes I think you’re just playing dumb.”

  “No, Mother,” Peep implored, shaking her head. “I penned them. I promise you.”

  “Is that so?” Mother stood. Peep looked up Mother’s long legs, encased in black fishnet stockings and garters, the dark triangle between her legs exposed, as it always was, for easy access.

  Mother had taken to wearing black since Father had crossed over, and her mood was ever changeable, but lately she seemed often cross and hard to please. Mother tapped her toe in front of Peep’s knee, folding her arms over her ample breasts, pushed up high in her black corset, but covered with the sheer, lace peignoir she always wore, unbuttoned to the floor.

  “Mother, please,” Peep pleaded. “I will go tend them, if you let me.”

  Mother walked over to the cabinet and the girl moaned, the sound caught halfway between regret and anticipation. “I think we need a little correction, don’t you?” Mother’s voice drifted over her shoulder as she chose a small cat o’nine tails from her collection.

  “Please,” Peep pleaded again, her eyes downcast. “I’ll be a good girl.”

  “Yes,” Mother murmured, coming to caress the her cheek with her soft hand. “You will.”

  Mother reached behind the girl and began untying the pink satin ribbon binding her. Peep sighed in relief, rolling her tired shoulders once her arms were free. She leaned forward onto her hands and knees as Mother began to untie her feet, but then the older woman stopped.

  “No… this is good.” Mother tightened the sashes at the girl’s ankles, chuckling. “Turn around, Little Bo Peep who’s lost her sheep, and doesn’t know were to find them.”

  Peep did as she was told, turning her face toward the wall on her hands and knees, using her hands to slowly work herself around. She felt Mother’s hand caressing her ass, and she shivered, looking back over her shoulder at the older woman. Mother squatted down behind her, beginning to drip the many straps of the cat o’nine tails over Peep’s behind like a little leather waterfall.

  “Peep’s little puss,” Mother whispered, parting the dark blonde fuzz with her fingers to peer in at the pink treasure. “I love peeping at Peep’s little puss.” Mother giggled, wiggling her fingers through and finding the girl’s clit.

  “Oh, Mother!” Peep moaned, lifting her bottom in the air as much as she could with her feet tied together at the ankles.

  “That’s right, Peep,” Mother encouraged, with her finger and her voice. The girl’s clit was swollen and pulsing. “You like it so much, don’t you?”

  Peep nodded, glad her long blonde hair covered her red, flushed face. Mother’s fingers rubbed there, making her moan with pleasure. Peep’s little puss was incredibly responsive, her lips swelling, the pink color deepening to a rosier shade.

  “You’ve been a naughty shepherdess, haven’t you, Peep?” Mother asked, standing behind her. The girl nodded, her blonde hair falling in waves falling over the stone floor. She felt the first blow from the cat o’nine tails, almost a gentle thing, with just a little sting. She twisted and squirmed.

  “Oh, Mother, please,” Peep whispered. Her pussy throbbed from the older woman’s attention.

  “Yes, tell me.” Another blow, and then another. Mother waited.

  “I lost my sheep,” the girl sobbed, feeling another slap, another. Her bottom felt hot. She cried out as she felt three more stings from the cat o’nine tails in quick succession. “Oh, Mother! Please!”

  But the older woman was catching a rhythm now, and Peep heard her working hard. She lashed the girl again and again, until Peep’s bottom felt red and raw and huge, and her pussy—it was on fire, throbbing with longing. She hid her shamed face behind her curtain of hair, her tears falling onto the stone floor.

  “Now, are you going to find those sheep, Miss Peep?” Mother grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her head back, looking down at her tear-stained face. Peep nodded, moaning softly, looking dazed, her eyes glassy. “But first, you’re going to do penance, aren’t you? On your knees.”

  Peep nodded, tears still streaming down her rosy cheeks. “Yes, Mother.”

  Mother moved in front of her, leaning back against the wall. “Up, Peep,” she instructed, using the girl’s hair to pull her fully to her knees. Peep sat up, looking up at her with big, wide eyes. “You know what to do.”

  Peep leaned forward, parting Mother’s pussy lips with her tongue. Mother was very wet, and the girl found her clit and began to suck and lick it, knowing just what the older woman liked, running lazy circles at first and then moving her tongue back and forth along the hooded button.

  Mother moaned, rubbing her palms over her own dark nipples, pulling at them, twisting them. She ground her pussy against the girl’s face, using Peep’s tongue, her juices spilling down her chin and throat. Peep whimpered when Mother slipped a hand behind her neck, pulling her in tighter. She tried to keep her nose clear, moving her tongue faster and faster over the woman’s clit, feeling her writhe and wriggle.

  “Good girl,” Mother moaned, moving
her hips in circles now, too. Her hand was tired of holding Peep’s neck and she reached out and grabbed the girl’s crooked staff leaning against the wall, a little pretty pink and white be-ribboned thing. Mother hooked the staff around Peep’s neck, and the girl gasped, feeling herself being drawn deeper into the older woman’s wetness.

  Peep could barely breathe, but she didn’t stop, not for a moment, keeping her lapping tongue focused right over Mother’s clit. Her own pussy throbbed, and she longed to touch it, but she knew Mother would be angry. She squeezed her legs together, the smell and sight and sound of pussy all around her—she was drowning in it.

  “Ohhh!” Mother cried out, and Peep felt the crooked staff pull her up tight by the neck, shoving her even more deeply against Mother’s slick flesh, if that was possible. “Yes, yes, that’s good, make Mother come in your mouth.”

  And she did, her body a shaking, quivering torrent as she flooded Peep’s mouth with her juices. Mother leaned there for a moment, her chest heaving, loosening her grip on the staff. Peep tilted her face up to her, her tongue stuck out completely, the tip poised right at Mother’s clit, just like she was taught.

  Mother smiled, patting the girl’s head. “No, doll. Not another for Mother. But maybe a pet for Peep?”

  The girl’s eyes brightened, and her pussy quivered. Mother walked around the girl, bending down to untie her ankles. She gave her a hand up, leading Peep over to the huge, high bed in the middle of the room.

  “On your knees,” Mother instructed, watching Peep crawl forward into the bed. The girl stayed near the edge, back on her hands and knees. “Ohhhh, look at Peep’s little puss,” she murmured, and she slapped it with her bare hand, making the girl gasp and cry out. “You like it, don’t you, pet? You’re so wet!”

  Peep moaned, spreading her legs a little wider, arching her back. Mother chuckled, slipping two fingers into her, easily—she was like butter. She moved her fingers in and out of the girl’s wetness, turning her fingers as she did, and Peep met her motion, rocking back with her hips.

  “Tell Mother,” the older woman whispered, leaning down to kiss her round, pink bottom.

  “Yes!” Peep moaned when she touched her clit, finding it with her thumb and rubbing. “Oh, Mother, yes, I love it, I love it, I do!”

  She was rewarded as Mother’s hand drove into her harder, faster, digging deep. They were both breathing hard, working hard, Peep’s hands clenched into fists as she grasped the bedcovers, her pink toes curling. Mother smiled, using her other hand and slipping one wet fingertip into the girl’s exposed rosebud, her asshole tight.

  “Ohhhhhhh!” Peep’s whole body stiffened as she came, the force of it pressing her further back against Mother, driving every inch of mother’s fingers into her orifices as she bucked and thrashed and moaned. She collapsed onto the bed, forgetting herself, still shivering.

  Mother watched her for a moment, the flushed cheeks, the round, rosy ass, the cinched waist, her corset heaving with her breath, and then she licked her fingers, smelling Peep on them. “You do need to find those sheep, pet,” she reminded her.

  Peep sat up, nodding, moving to stand. Her limbs were tingling and shaky from being tied up. “Yes, Mother. I will find them and put them in their pen for the night.”

  “Good girl.” Mother caressed her cheek and then sat on the bed and watched Peep fetch her crook and walk unsteadily out the door.

  When she was gone, Mother called, “Willie!” The little man came in, bowing to Mother as he entered. “Willie, Mother needs a bath.”

  He nodded again, turning to go, and she called, “Oh, and Willie? Come here.” He advanced toward the bed and waited. His head only came up to the top of the mattress and he stood looking up at her.

  She patted the top of his head, smiling. “Wee Willie Winkie,” she murmured, chucking him under the chin. “Do remember to go out there tomorrow morning and let those sheep out of their pen, won’t you, darling?”

  He nodded, smiling, his eyes bright. “Yes, Mother.”

  Chapter Two

  Little Boy Blue

  Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,

  The sheep’s in the meadow, the cow’s in the corn.

  Where is the boy who looks after the sheep?

  He’s under a haystack, fast asleep.

  “Guess where I found this one, Mother?”

  She looked up from her tea, seeing Little Boy Blue dragging in the young man she had recently hired to help Peep look after the sheep.

  “Oh, no, not again!” Mother tsked, standing and moving toward them.

  “You guessed it, under the haystack, fast asleep!” Blue exclaimed, shaking his head and grabbing the young man by his shirt collar, forcing him to his knees on the floor. “You bow before Mother, swine,” he hissed.

  Mother squatted down near the young man, lifting his chin. He was dirty, but his eyes were a clear, bright, and very defiant blue. “Tommy boy,” Mother murmured, licking her thumb and rubbing it over a smudge on the young man’s cheek. He jerked his head away, glaring at her.

  Mother sighed, folding her arms, and stood to look at Blue. “Are these magic sheep I have?” she wondered aloud. “Do they fly out of their pens?”

  “You see, Blue.” Mother pointed to the wall, where Peep was bound again in pink satin sashes, her face streaked with tears, awaiting her third punishment in three days. “It appears no one can keep track of the sheep!”

  “Perhaps our little sheep herders have been occupying themselves together, Mother,” Blue suggested, raising a dark eyebrow at her.

  Mother smiled, narrowing her eyes. “Ah, perhaps.” She advanced toward Peep and the girl lowered her head even further. Mother had her stripped completely bare today, and she was nothing but creamy pink skin and honey-colored hair.

  “Is this true, Peep?” Mother asked quietly. “Have you and Tom been occupying yourselves together while my sheep run willy-nilly through town?”

  “Leave her alone!” Tom hissed at her over his shoulder as Blue moved to restrain the young man.

  Mother raised her eyebrows and met Blue’s eyes. “Ah, I see.” She pressed the young man between herself and Blue as she leaned in to whisper something into Blue’s ear. He nodded, smiling, and picked Tom up under the arm, dragging him toward where Peep was kneeling.

  “I don’t think satin ribbons will keep this one, Mother,” Blue remarked, reaching for a manacle attached to a chain hooked into the wall. Tom struggled as Blue snapped the first one around his wrist, but the bigger man held him fast, grabbing the other arm and locking the other manacle. Tom strained against the chains, but he couldn’t go any further than a few feet from the wall, his arms above his head.

  Mother moved toward him, her heels clicking on the stone floor and her lace peignoir shifting around her thighs as she advanced. Tom glared at her, but she smiled at him, shaking her head. “There’s a fire in this one, Blue. Now I remember why I acquired him.”

  “He’s got spunk,” Blue agreed, folding his arms and watching Mother as she began to unbutton the young man’s shirt.

  “I bet he does.” Mother chuckled, reaching into Tom’s breeches. He gasped as she squeezed his testicles, tugging and twisting them slightly. “The harness, please, Blue,” she murmured, feeling Tom’s cock growing in her hand in spite of the resentment in his eyes. “Oh, my… the big one.”

  Blue grinned, going over to the cabinet and opening it. Peep watched him through the cascade of her hair, whimpering. He patted her on the head as he passed back, carrying something that looked like a bunch of leather straps.

  “Do whatever you want to me,” Tom said as Mother began removing his breeches. She left his shirt on but open. “Just leave Peep alone.”

  Mother took the harness from Blue, shaking her head at the young man. “Yes, I will do whatever I want to you,” she said softly, kneeling to inspect him. Peep had raised her head and was watching closely as Mother stroked Tom’s cock. “And to our Little Bo Peep, as well.” Tom struggled agai
nst his bonds, his face reddening almost as much as his stiffening member.

  Mother smiled up at him, and then glanced over at Peep, who was licking her little lips as she watched. “You see, she likes it, Tom,” Mother explained, pressing his cock up against his hard, flat belly, rubbing it there as she fondled his balls with her other hand and began to fasten the leather straps around them. “She likes it a great deal—and not just with you, believe me, dearie!”

  Tom glanced over at the girl, but her head was lowered again, her hair hiding her face. Mother continued to work the leather around his cock, tightening it around his testicles and the base of his shaft. She buckled the straps, murmuring to herself, “One, two, let’s buckle you…” Mother admired her handiwork, seeing him standing straight up and out. Tom looked down at her, his eyes wide as she smiled up at him and planted a kiss on the tip of him before standing.

  “What do you think, Blue?” Mother looked over at the big man standing by watching.

  “Should hold him for a while.” Blue nodded with a smile.

  “Let’s find out, shall we?” Mother’s eyes were bright as she stood, walking over to where Peep knelt, her head bowed so low her golden hair fell in a pool on the floor. The older woman leaned over and began to untie her. Peep didn’t make a peep—she stayed just that way, with her hands behind her back, as if she were still restrained.

  “Ah, you are such a good girl,” Mother remarked, stroking Peep’s back with her hand. “A faster learner. Up, pet.”

  Mother twined her hand in Peep’s hair and she stood, her hands still tucked behind her back. “You know you aren’t allowed to fraternize,” Mother admonished her, leaning in close enough Peep could smell the mint tea she’d been drinking on her breath.

  “I’m sorry, Mother,” Peep whispered, swallowing hard. She felt tears stinging her eyes again. “It was just—”

  Mother raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this should be good. What was it just, darling?”