Aunt MJ's Farm - Day 1 -- A Return to Childhood Discipline
Date: 11/2/2023,
Categories:
Fiction
Authoritarian,
Discipline,
Incest
Lactation,
Male / Older Female,
Author: discreetwritings
... barrier of wood between them, he remembered vividly, the comfort drawn from warm milk flowing freely from MJ’s large and plush breasts.
From inside came softly sweet sounds, murmurs nestled amongst suckling noises, echoing harmonious within the confines of Aunt MJ’s bedroom.
He visualized Bella nursing contentedly at MJ’s breast—each pull drawing forth both sustenance and solace while easing not just physical sting left behind, but also emotional turmoil stirred throughout shared ordeal prior…
The rhythmic suckling slowed; Bella’s breaths grew deep and even, a testament to the tranquility that had settled over her. MJ's hand gently stroked her hair in a repetitive motion that was as soothing as the milk being drawn from her.
“That's it,” MJ whispered, her voice barely audible through the door to Taylor. “Let it all go.”
After a few more minutes of peaceful silence punctuated only by faint gulps and soft coos of contentment emanating from within the room, there was a shift in energy—a signal that their private moment was drawing to an end. The soft sounds of Bella detaching, and MJ readjusting clothing indicated that reality was inevitably filtering back into the space they had temporarily held at bay.
Feeling like he had overstayed his time eavesdropping on such privacy, Taylor knew it was time to retreat before anyone became aware of his presence. He backed away slowly from the door, every nerve tingling with caution not to make a sound.
His feet moved ...
... almost instinctively; finding silent paths across well-trodden floorboards avoiding spots he knew would betray him with creaks or groans underfoot, a dance familiar enacted often during stealthy nocturnal quests for late-night kitchen raids but never under circumstances quite like this.
The sun had fully surrendered to the night by the time dinner was ready, casting long shadows through the cozy farm kitchen. Inside, MJ was the conductor of clanging pots and sizzling pans, her figure silhouetted against the stove light.
At the oak dinner table sat Taylor and Bella, each subtly shifting in their wooden chairs trying to find a position that didn't press too harshly against their tender bottoms. A quiet understanding passed between them; a shared discomfort known only to those who had recently been at the receiving end of MJ's stern hand.
“Can't sit straight, cousin?” Taylor teased slyly across the table; his voice low so it wouldn't carry to MJ busy with her culinary orchestrations. The quip danced between them with dangerous lightness after today's events.
Bella shot a narrowed glare back at him while adjusting yet again. “Better watch it,” she retorted quietly, her voice laced with both warning and an involuntary wince. “Or you'll be back over her knee before you even get dessert.”
Their banter might have continued had not MJ turned from her domain by the stove: “That will be enough from both of you,” she said firmly but without turning around, a clear signal ...