#bedtime tales

[pattimouse]

Book Birthday!!!

Book2read.com/attackofShoeMountain

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[downtonlass]

Baldwin’s Bedtime Story

@baldwin-montclair Thank you so much for helping me with this idea about what widely inappropriate story to tell the children.  I hope you enjoy. It might be a bit of a mess.  I hope its as humorous as I thought it would be.  (PS this is my side blog for ADOW things and other fanfiction.) 

“Once, in a time long forgotten, there was the most wonderful place you could ever imagine.  It was called Rome.”  Began Baldwin. 

He had reluctantly said he would watch the twins while Matthew and Diana were off somewhere.  Reluctantly wasn’t exactly the right term for it, but he played it off that way.  Diana had left him strict instructions.  Baldwin did wonder if any of the many other family members watching the twins were given these very same instructions.  Or if it was just him.  It was probably just him.  Baldwin had rolled his eyes.  Which made his sister even more anxious about leaving them with him.

“We’ll be fine Diana. If I can manage whole companies, surely I can handle my niece and nephew.  Go!”  Diana had turned back with a “you better not do anything and they better be whole when I get home” look on her face.  Baldwin waved it off before entering back into the house.  The twins on either side of him holding his hands. 

Nobody would have believed the way Baldwin soften around his niece and nephew.  They had him wrapped around their fingers. Now it was time for their bedtime.  Diana did say they loved stories. He didn’t really know any.  It was something he would have to improve upon, for the next time.  Because in his mind there would be many more chances, slumber parties, the twins coming over to Uncle Baldwin’s house for a week in the summer.  He was even making plans to build them a playhouse on his property. 

What Baldwin lacked in fairy tales he made up for in real life adventures.  “Adventures it is you two.”  He had said as he put them in their cribs and tucked them in. 

“Now Rome was a republic.” Baldwin said continuing his story. “Which is not the same as a Kingdom, but I digress.  Now Rome had a leader called Caesar!. 

“Caesar!”  The twins repeated. 

“Yes exactly! Caesar.” Baldwin continued with the story of the Ides of March and the assassination of Caesar by Brutus. 

Children echoed words like Rome and Senate. They cheered for Brutus  

“One day, the Ides of March actually.  Caesar went to a play.  That is where Brutus took his knife and killed Caesar.  Caesar utter “Et Tu Brute. And that was the end of the power hungry Caesar!. Your Uncle Baldwin watched it all happen.  Goodnight children.  Tomorrow I can tell you the story of Nero.”

“Nero!”  The children cheered. 

With the end of his story Baldwin settled the children down, and kissed them goodnight.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later after Baldwin had told the twins about Nero that Diana came banging into his office. 

“Baldwin! What did you tell my children?  Both children are parading around declaring that Rome was the greatest city in the world.  They are insisting we call them Senators.  That Senators have more power then royalty and are in fact better.  Phillip is cheering for Brutus and Rebecca is stabbing her dolls shouting Et Tu Brute?  Not to mention both children are worried about the Ides of March and Nero.  If these are your bedtime stories we are going to have to find a fairy tale volume for you to read instead. Roman life is not a suitable bedtime stories for children.” 

With that a ghost fluttered down with Grimms Fairy Tales. 

Diana facepalmed.  “Don’t we have the Disney additions of fairy tales?  We will not be telling the children that the evil stepsisters cut parts of their body off to marry a prince.”   

PS Let me know if I can improve anything.  I’m not sure of this one.  :-P 

[compassionmattersmost]

The Little Cloud and the Clear Sky

A Bedtime Story for Children Inspired by Tibetan Buddhism and Mindfulness Once upon a time, high above the Earth, there was a vast, clear sky. The sky stretched far and wide, so peaceful and bright that everyone who looked up felt warm and safe. The sky never worried; it didn’t change or rush. It simply was—always calm, always clear, like a gentle friend watching over the world. One morning, a…

The Little Cloud and the Clear Sky

[pattimouse]

Book Birthday!

Today My Grandma book is Live. Do you have a copy yet?

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[syntheticavenger]

👻 — pussy slapping 🥴

Ohh Alice, thank you for this ask and participating in my sleepover. I have never really written pussy slapping before so I hope this is okay!

I'll let you guess who it is...

Broken Pieces

Warning: 18+ ONLY, mentions of free use, pussy slapping, fingering.

Summary | Consequences come with breaking things.

Shards of shattered porcelain lay on the ground, far away enough for your safety, the pan and broom still waiting on the hook.

Service can mean many different things.

For your employers, it means cooking, cleaning and anything else they desire. Which can mean sitting on their lap while they read through a book, a hand resting on your bare thigh while they have you turn the page. Other times, it’s making sure they sleep, their hand down your silk panties, resting their fingers for a few scant moments, hushed voices asking if your wetness was before or after you came to their bed on your knees.

It doesn’t matter.

Anything they ask, you will do. Your contract is binding, page after page of your own inked initials, your signature a flourish at the end of the thick amount of paperwork, whisked away by an attorney who didn’t give you a single glance.

It’s only after that you were told they weren’t allowed to look at you.

Discipline.

It’s somewhere in your contract, spelled out carefully in black and white, section four – or maybe five, depending on what updated version you signed.

Cool air skims against your bare skin and for a moment, you temporarily forget the one outlined discipline that they are quick to dole out.

A hand connects with your tender, wet flesh, the gag in your mouth already damp with your saliva. There’s a method to it, the blond haired one is the disciplinarian, legs spread wider for better access.

Better sight.

If the blond is the punisher, the brunette is the salve, cold metal fingers that probe the entrance of your cunt, circling your clit for the slightest twist in your hips. That spurs him forward, two of them pushing into you with a slow and steady rhythm before they are pulled away.

Another slap.

This time, the gag is removed, your lips finally touching after what seems to be an eternity, only to have them kissed lightly by the blond.

“Steady,” he says against your lips, touching your cheek in a gentle caress. “Breathe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat when his hand comes down again, hard and fast, sending you reeling. Your mouth opens to cry out, only to have it silenced by the lips of the brunette, his fingers plunging back inside you, easing you into the false sense of security you chase with every movement.

Two more slaps on your blistered cunt, at least a minute in between but it feels like so much longer, the air cooling your heated skin for only a moment before it comes down again.

A different rhythm.

Meant to keep you from being complacent.

This time, it’s the metal hand, glistening in the candlelight from your juices. Fingers wrap around your throat, silencing you with a single squeeze that’s meant to send a message, not to discipline.

The fingers that slip inside of you are warm and pliable, pushing you to your peak.

“Don’t deny us.”

[regnigt]

Possibly a weird question: did you ever hear bedtime stories as a child, from parents or anyone else taking care of you?

Yes, often, both oral tales and books

Yes, often, books only

Yes, often, oral tales only

Only sometimes

No, not that I can remember

Not as such, but... (add anything you like in tags)

Voting ended onJun 14, 2023

Please reblog so I can get more answers. 🥰🥰🙏

[portfollies]

[portfollies]