My Mom Is A Dominatrix: Part 3 (Patreon)

Robert sat on the edge of his bed, heart thudding as he stared at the message thread. His thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating for only a moment before he tapped send.

Robert: Good morning, Mistress. I hope your day is going wonderfully.

The photo attached — evidence of his obedience — completely naked besides the chastity cage. He felt his chest tighten as he watched the three dots appear. Then disappear. Then return again.

Her reply came swift and sharp, the words carrying the weight of certainty.

Charlene: Good boy.

Robert exhaled, relief and nervous excitement colliding.

Another bubble appeared almost immediately.

Charlene: I have several errands for you to run today.

His pulse quickened. The tone wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order.

Robert’s hands were slick with sweat by the time he pushed open the boutique’s glass door as his cock strained within the confinces of the chastity cage. The delicate chime above the entrance felt like a spotlight announcing his arrival. Silk and lace draped elegantly from the racks, each piece a reminder of why he was there — and who had sent him.

He tried to steady his breathing, but every step made him acutely aware of the constriction around his cock, the firm reminder that Mistress Charlene’s control of his orgasms followed him even here. The thought alone made him shift uncomfortably, a deep blush creeping up his neck.

A cheerful shop assistant appeared, smiling brightly. “Hello! Can I help you find something today?”

Robert’s throat tightened. His tongue felt thick. But Charlene’s last message echoed in his head — Say it. Exactly as I told you.

He forced the words out in a rush. “I… I need lingerie. In this size.” His voice cracked as he added, “It’s for my girlfriend’s mother.”

The assistant froze, then let out a short, surprised giggle. Robert’s cheeks burned hotter. He shifted his stance, squirming as the chastity cage around him pressed uncomfortably against him.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, covering her mouth but still grinning. “That’s… definitely a first.”

Robert wished the floor would swallow him whole. “It’s… uh… it’s a gift,” he mumbled.

The assistant giggled again, louder this time, and glanced toward the counter. “Hey, Emma!” she called, her voice ringing through the boutique. “Come here, you’ve got to hear this.”

Robert’s stomach dropped as another young woman walked over, eyebrows raised. “What’s up?”

“This guy,” the first assistant whispered theatrically, though still loud enough to make him wince, “needs lingerie. For his girlfriend’s mom.”

Emma’s eyes widened. Then she laughed — not cruel, but enough to make Robert’s ears burn crimson. “Wow. That’s… bold.”

Robert shifted again, the pressure inside his trousers making it impossible to stand still. His voice came out strained. “It’s… um… it’s a special request.”

The two assistants exchanged looks, biting back smiles, before one of them said, “Well, let’s find something she’ll really like then, shall we?”

Robert nodded mutely, his face on fire. Every movement felt exaggerated, every glance from them a reminder of how ridiculous he must look. As they led him between the racks of silk and lace, he knew — without question — that Mistress Charlene would be savouring every second of his humiliation.

Robert trailed behind the two assistants, clutching his phone in his pocket as though it might shield him. His face was so hot he felt sure the entire shop could see his shame, and yet his cock was rock-hard in his pants. Every step was stiff, the reminder of the chastity cage pressing into him whenever he tried to adjust his stance.

The assistants stopped at a rack draped with silk and lace in bold reds and deep blacks. One of them plucked a bra and panty set from the hanger and held it up against her body with a grin. “So… something like this for your girlfriend’s mom?” she asked, deliberately stressing the last word.

Robert’s stomach dropped. “Y-yes,” he stammered, his voice catching.

They exchanged a glance, trying not to laugh but failing, giggles slipping through. Robert’s blush deepened until his ears burned. He shifted on the spot, unable to keep still, his body language practically screaming discomfort.

“Oh my god,” Emma whispered, though not nearly quietly enough. “Imagine explaining that at the dinner table.”

Robert wished the ground would swallow him whole. “Please… just—just this one,” he managed.

The assistant nodded and draped the set over her arm. “Sure thing.” She winked at Emma before heading toward the counter.

As Robert followed, two men browsing near the door glanced up at the sound of the laughter. One of them smirked openly when he overheard Emma muttering, “For his girlfriend’s mom, can you believe it?” The other chuckled under his breath.

Robert’s chest tightened as he blushed so much. He could feel the plug in his ass tighten around his ass as his cheeks pressed together.

He avoided their eyes, staring straight ahead, but their laughter stuck to him like glue. His hands trembled as he reached the counter.

“That’ll be $138,” the assistant said cheerfully, bagging the lingerie in a delicate pink shopping bag. She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice just enough for him to hear: “You’re blushing so hard right now. Does your girlfriend’s mom know what a good little shopper you are for her?”

Robert’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard, fumbling with his wallet. His fingers felt clumsy as he handed over his card, trying to ignore the men chuckling quietly a few feet away.

The assistant swiped his card and handed him the bag with a knowing smirk. “Enjoy your gift-giving,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

Robert mumbled something inaudible, clutching the bag close to his chest. As he turned to leave, Emma called after him, laughter in her voice: “Good luck at family dinner!”

The bell over the door chimed as he stumbled outside, his face crimson, heart racing. His phone buzzed immediately.

Charlene: I can feel your humiliation from here. Good boy. That’s exactly how I want you — blushing, squirming, and completely under my control.

Robert squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the pink bag tighter as the sound of the assistants’ laughter still echoed in his ears.

Robert’s phone buzzed as he hurried away from the boutique, clutching the pink bag to his chest like contraband. His heart still pounded with the echo of laughter from the assistants, but Charlene’s new message cut through everything else.

Charlene: You’re not finished. Go to the shop two blocks ahead with the neon sign. Tell the man behind the counter you’re here for the outfit for Mistress Charlene’s submissive. And Robert… you will try it all on. Every piece. Including the extras.

Robert froze on the sidewalk, heat prickling across his face. His stomach knotted. She can’t mean… here? In public? But the second message arrived before he could even think of protesting.

Charlene: Now.

The bell above the sex shop door jingled as he stepped inside, nerves jangling louder than the sound itself. Posters lined the walls, shelves gleamed with toys and leather, and behind the counter stood a man with tattooed arms and a clipboard.

Robert swallowed hard and approached, his voice coming out as a cracked whisper. “Uh… I’m here for… for the outfit. For Mistress Charlene’s submissive.”

The man looked up slowly, his expression unreadable. After a beat, he nodded once. “Right. Hold on.”

He disappeared behind the counter, leaving Robert standing in the too-bright silence of the store. A couple browsing by the wall of restraints gave him a sideways glance before returning to their whispered conversation. Robert shifted on his feet, squirming, wishing he were invisible.

When the man returned, he carried a plain black garment bag and a smaller box stacked on top. He set them on the counter with a heavy thud. “Changing rooms are at the back. Take your time.”

Robert felt every eye in the shop on him as he picked up the bag and box, hugging them to his chest the way he had the lingerie bag. His legs felt wooden as he made the walk to the changing rooms, the sound of the little door clicking shut behind him far too loud.

He unzipped the garment bag with trembling hands. Inside was a rubber gimp outfit that screamed Mistress Charlene’s taste—tight, glossy, unmistakably designed for submission.

His phone buzzed again.

Charlene: All of it. Don’t leave anything out.

Robert’s cheeks burned hotter than ever as his cock tried to stiffen against the relentless steel of the chastity cage. Alone in the cramped changing room, with the distant murmur of customers and the weight of Charlene’s command pressing down on him, he realised the humiliation wasn’t in the outfit itself—It was in knowing she had orchestrated every moment of this, and that when he stepped back out, she would own every blush, every squirm, every shred of his obedience.

The material looked impossibly tight, almost alive, and the shape of it told him immediately: this wasn’t designed for comfort.

His phone buzzed.

Charlene: Strip down. Put it on. Every inch. Don’t keep me waiting.

Robert’s hands shook as he peeled away his clothes, the last thing remaining the cold steel chastity cage around him. The suit clung to his skin as he worked his way inside, sealing him away piece by piece. The pressure built as he pulled it higher, forcing his limbs into positions that felt unnatural as he realised the suit would force him onto all fours.

By the time he had sealed the last zipper, he wasn’t standing upright anymore—he was hunched, forced low to the ground, his movements reduced to an awkward crawl.

The only opening were for the chastity cage to hang out of, another for his asshole and one more for his mouth.

The mirror on the wall reflected something unrecognisable. A faceless rubber figure stared back at him, anonymous, voiceless, stripped of anything human except the eyes that peered out in shame. His breath echoed hot and shallow inside the tight enclosure, each exhale reminding him how little of himself remained visible.

Another buzz.

Charlene: On your knees. Show me. Now.

Robert sank lower onto the padded floor of the changing room, trembling, his chest heaving. The hum of customers outside the thin door suddenly sounded deafening. If he had to step out like this… they would see everything Charlene had turned him into.

Robert froze at the knock on the thin changing room door. His heart leapt into his throat. He opened his mouth to stammer out a weak, “Just a minute—”

The door clicked, swinging inward.

And there she was.

Mistress Charlene stepped into the cramped space as though she owned it — because, in truth, she did. From her neck to the gleam of her boots, she was sheathed in polished latex that caught the light with every movement. Her red lips curved into a knowing smile, one that told Robert she had planned this from the very beginning.

Charlene bent gracefully, scooping up the box from the bench. “You see,” she said, her voice smooth and deliberate, “I am a kind Mistress. You struggle with the details… and I simply can’t let my submissive fail.”

Robert’s pulse hammered. The words my submissive rang louder in his ears than the muffled noises from the shop beyond the door.

She placed the box beside him, opening it with deliberate care. “So,” she continued, her eyes locking onto his, “I will help you get finished. You should be grateful — very few earn this level of attention from me so quickly.”

Her gloved hand traced lightly along the rubber that bound him, inspecting the fit as though she were appraising a tool rather than touching a man. Robert swallowed hard, the shame of being examined, adjusted, and perfected sinking deeper into his bones.

Charlene’s smirk widened. “You look exactly as you should. Stripped down. Obedient. Ready.”

She leaned close enough that he could feel the whisper of her breath. “And soon, everyone else will see it too.”

Charlene’s smile deepened as she set the box down between them. The cramped little changing room felt smaller by the second, the air heavy with the scent of polished rubber.

“You’ve come this far,” she said softly, almost as if it were praise, “but you’re not complete yet.”

She lifted the first item — gleaming restraints that caught the fluorescent light — and held them out where he could see. “Every detail matters. You’ll wear what I choose. You’ll move how I choose.”

Robert’s breath came shallow, heart racing. The sound of each clasp fastening into place echoed far louder in his head than it should have. Each one stole a little more of his freedom.

His ankles were cuffed tohether in iron, and so were his wrists.

Then came the collar. Cool, unyielding, it settled against his throat like a seal. Charlene tugged it once, firmly, testing, before her smirk returned.

“There,” she murmured. “Now you’re starting to look presentable.”

From the box she withdrew one final piece — a red rubber gag, unmistakably designed to silence as much as to adorn. She turned it over slowly in her hand before looking back at him. “Open.”

Robert hesitated for the briefest second. Charlene arched one brow. He obeyed.

She placed it inside his mouth and secured it behind his head.

The world seemed quieter with it in place, his words cut off before they could even form. Charlene stepped back to admire her work, her satisfaction unmistakable.

“Perfect,” she said. Then, almost casually: “You know, this little shop has a club in the back. Very discreet. Very kinky.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “I think we deserve a drink, don’t you? And who knows… we might run into someone you know.”

Robert’s stomach dropped. The leash in her hand tightened, the implication undeniable.

Charlene leaned close, whispering with velvet certainty: “Come along, pet. Time to be seen.”

The world narrowed to the sound of rubber against the floor as Robert crawled at Charlene’s side. Each movement was clumsy and humiliating, his body bent low in the restrictive suit. He could hear her heels clicking ahead of him, steady and confident, a cruel contrast to his awkward shuffle.

“Faster,” Charlene commanded as her riding crop snapped against his ass cheek, her voice smooth but edged with steel.

Robert scrambled to obey, heat rising in his face even though no one could see it beneath the rubber. The leash tugged sharply as she led him down a short corridor, deeper into the building.

The door ahead opened into a low-lit lounge, pulsing faintly with music and the murmur of voices. Perfume, leather, and alcohol mingled thick in the air. Robert felt the shift instantly — the oppressive awareness that others were watching.

Charlene stopped. He froze beside her, chest heaving. Then he felt her gloved hand slip a blindfold over his eyes. The world went black.

“You don’t need to see,” she whispered. “You only need to obey.”

The leash tugged again, guiding him a few steps before she sank into a chair. He knelt instinctively at her side, posture stiff, trembling in the heat of the suit. The sounds around him felt sharper now — laughter, glasses clinking, music thrumming faintly beneath it all.

“Something strong,” Charlene’s voice floated above him, ordering a drink as casually as if she were at a café. Robert’s humiliation deepened at how ordinary she made it sound.

Then — another voice, sudden, close. A warm female voice. “Hi!”

Robert froze. His stomach dropped.

There was the soft rustle of fabric as Charlene stood, the sound of an embrace. “So glad you could come,” Charlene purred.

And then it came — the voice he knew better than any other. Bright, familiar, devastating.

Rebecca.

“So this is your new submissive, Mom?” she said lightly. Amused. Curious. “He looks like he’s in good shape.”

Robert’s breath caught in his throat. Beneath the blindfold, his eyes went wide. The rubber suit felt suffocating, crushing him in its grip. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He could only kneel there, heart hammering, as his girlfriend unknowingly appraised him at her mother’s side.

Charlene chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “Yes. Very promising.”

Robert squirmed against the floor, every nerve in his body screaming — caught between panic, humiliation, and the terrifying possibility that this was only the beginning. He could feel the humiliation of precum leaking out of the chastity cage.

Charlene’s voice curled through the dim lounge, smooth and deliberate. “You know, Rebecca… this could be you. If you’d only let me guide you. I can help you turn Robert into exactly the kind of man you deserve—obedient, devoted, fully yours.”

Robert stiffened at the sound of his own name, his breath catching in his chest. He dared not move, blindfolded, powerless at her side.

Rebecca’s voice came after a beat, curious but measured. “I can see your submissive is… locked in chastity, mum.”

Charlene’s low laugh carried a note of triumph. The faint jingle of keys spun from the chain at her neck. “Of course. It keeps his mind where it belongs—on my needs, not his. Discipline sharpens loyalty.”

There was a silence, heavy, almost thoughtful. Then Rebecca sighed, the sound soft but decisive. “…Alright, Mom. Maybe I’ll consider it.”

Robert’s stomach twisted. The leash at his collar seemed to tighten all on its own. And somewhere above him, Charlene’s satisfied smirk was almost palpable in the dark.