Your Girlfriend (ageplay route)

You glance at the screen, which says SANGEETA over a photo of a lovely, round-faced Indian woman with large, dark eyes. It's your girlfriend. She came to the U.S. from Punjab with her family when she was young, and attends the same college as you, though she's soon to graduate. You met her when you started at college a few months ago, and she was the senior assigned to show you around campus. From there, your memories diverge.

In the pre-notebook memories, now seeming as faded as an old photograph, it took you most of the semester to get up your nerve to ask her out, but you've had a couple of dates that have gone really well, and you're excited.

In the newer, fresher set of memories, she asked you out after only a couple of days, and you hit it off immediately. On your third date, you were, in her view, overly pushy about "third-date expectations". Consequently, she pulled you across her lap, gave you a hard hand spanking on your bare bottom, then **** you to go down on her until she had four orgasms. Afterward, she rode your cock like a rodeo act, you came so hard you screamed, and you've been utterly besotted with her ever since.

"Scott, hi," she says, and as ever, you melt at the sound of her accent. Smooth, precise vowels and a slight singsongy lilt. You want to do anything that voice tells you--which is convenient, because she usually wants you to do what she tells you. "Listen, I've got some big news--good news!--but it's important and I hate talking on the phone. Can you come over to my place and talk?"

You glance at the time, and reply "Well, I'd have to blow off my Humanities class, but sure."

She sighs briefly. "Of course you'd blow off... sorry. That's... actually not important. My place, say half an hour?"

Sangeeta has an off-campus apartment, one of those cheap places with beige carpets and popcorn ceilings. You will forever associate it as the place where you were gleefully robbed of your virginity, but even with that association, it's kind of a dump. Nevertheless, when she welcomes you in and hugs you, it feels like the safest place in the world. She's taller than you, with a plump, voluptuous build, and when she wraps her arms around you it's like being trapped in a cocoon of warmth and love.

She's in her usual exhausted-engineering-senior uniform of spark-scorched jeans and a faded T-shirt. Today's shirt features characters from Ruth & Marty, the boundary-pushing surrealist cartoon about a brilliant, amoral scientist and her dimwitted, endlessly spankable grandson. Sangeeta guides you to the sofa and sits down on her own coffee table, facing you, and close enough to hold both your hands. She can do that because her coffee table, unlike yours in your dorm room, is clean enough to have room for her amply spherical posterior.

"So, okay, sweetie," she says, obviously flustered. "Good news. Big news. I'm graduating early, two weeks from now. My thesis project... well, I know you wouldn't understand the math, but take my word for it, it's a spectacular success. And it gets better. I've got a job offer from Cosmodyne Concepts. As soon as I graduate, conditional on me moving to Genevieve, Colorado, where their main engineering facility is. And for what they're going to pay me, I'd be crazy not to take that offer."

That doesn't strike you as entirely good news. The notion that this woman you love, this woman who makes you feel fear and passion and obedience like you've never known, is planning to move 1500 miles away... that's not good news for you. She's clearly excited about it, her dark eyes flashing and cheeks flushed, and you are happy for her, but even so... ouch.

She must see the crestfallen look on your face, because she hurries ahead. "No, wait, before you say anything, let me finish. There is a lot of very good housing in Genevieve, partly because I'm pretty sure Cosmodyne has been putting pressure on... sorry, no, that's not important." She rolls her eyes at herself and takes a deep breath before continuing. "What's important, Scottie, is that I love you. I've always been focused on my education and my future career, and when I first asked you out, I figured it'd be a fun fling with the cutest freshman in his class, and I was so wrong. Not about the fun part, or the cutest part, but about the fling. You are a wonderful boy, and every day I spend with you is happier than any day I spend without you."

That's a lot of compliments, and you're opening your mouth to reciprocate when her finger presses against your lips, sealing them. The thought of talking through that prohibition doesn't occur to you.

"Shhh. Let me finish first." She takes another deep breath, like she's about to do something difficult and scary. "My parents... I love them, but they're so old-fashioned. They never really adapted to American culture, I see my dad ordering my mom around sometimes and it feels so wrong to me, but she's okay with it, and... I guess that's okay for her. Not for me, but for her. And they've done really well here, but they're old-fashioned in that Indian way and..." she stops, and starts a new sentence over with as much clarity as she can. "They're offering to cover the down payment on a house in Genevieve. On condition that I get married."

Whoa. That... suggests a direction this conversation might be taking, and it's one you aren't yet sure how to feel about. You'd have a couple questions at this point, but her finger is still pressed gently but firmly over your lips--you're not allowed to speak yet.

"But the thing is--and I've given this a lot of thought over the years--I really only think I'd be happy in a short-pants marriage. I mean full-on all the way. I know a lot of guys aren't comfortable with that, so I always figured that would, limit my options, I guess?"

A short-pants marriage is the expression that's evolved in the past generation or so to describe marriages as outlined in the bestselling Woman & Boy. It means a marriage that's tantamount to an adoption, wherein the wife assumes all adult responsibility for the family, and treats the husband more or less entirely as a child. That's a notion that's... a little terrifying. Marriage is already a huge commitment, and the idea of losing your agency, your authority, your rights... basically being stripped of your adulthood completely, as the price of being with Sangeeta forever... that's a frightening notion.

Nevertheless, your penis is so hard it's actively painful, sitting at an uncomfortable angle in the denim prison of your shorts.

You squirm a bit to try to get your erection to slip into a less-awkward angle, and Sangeeta looks down and smiles. "Oh, you poor boy," she says in a soft, maternal tone. "Let me help." She reaches down and nudges your cock over until it lies straight up in your shorts, pointing at your navel. She leaves her hand there, cradling your hard dick protectively, just enough that the warm pressure of her hand makes it very hard to pay attention to anything else.

A wicked gleam rises in her eyes. "You are in no state to make decisions now, little boy," she purrs, and being called a little boy sends a pulse through your cock like a jolt of electricity. "It would be terribly wrong to ask you to give me an answer now..." she unbuttons your fly and slides your zipper down slowly, handling your shorts like they're her own property, "...since right now you'd do absolutely anything I want, wouldn't you?"

You **** out a vague affirmative as she takes your shorts and underwear and shimmies them down a few inches, letting your erection pop free at full mast. She sits on the couch next to you and with a few guiding gestures pulls you into sitting on her lap, your head nestled against her warm breasts through her Ruth & Marty T-shirt. She puts one arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close, while her other hand wraps firmly around your cock.

"Mind you, I could do it anyway," she muses as she begins to stroke up and down, gently. The rhythms of her speech are hypnotic, and you realize she's right, in this moment you're incapable of saying no. "It's a fun thought, isn't it? Forcing you to say yes when you're too hard to say no. I like having that kind of power over you." She strokes slightly faster, and you moan involuntarily. "Do you like me having that power over you?"

"Uh-huh..." you manage, because forming actual words seems super difficult at the moment.

"See? You'll agree to anything. In this moment, your body and mind are completely mine, and little boy, you can't understand how hot that is for me."

You feel like you can understand the idea of being incredibly turned on, but you're in no state to argue the point.

"But I need you to make a big decision, and the responsible thing to do is make sure you're doing that when all the blood is in your upstairs head. And we both know I have to be the responsible one, don't I?"

"Uh-huh..."

"You are the sweetest boy in the world, but you're a boy, and I'm pretty sure you always will be."

"Mm-hmm..." you say, lips closed as you turn your face into the comforting swell of her chest. On some level, you're aware that she's basically doing what she said she wouldn't do, manipulating you toward her own end, but even that awareness just makes you harder, brings you closer to coming. You shake with the intensity of the sensations.

"Do you want to come, Scottie?" she asks, voice still warm and gentle, with a little predatory edge to it.

"Yyyyyessssss..." you manage, and you can hear her smile.

"Say please."

"Please!" you say instantly.

"Again."

"Please! Please can I come? Please?" There is no decision-making process to this begging, it comes naturally out of you without review by any part of your brain.

"Yes, sweetie. Come. Now." And with only that, you orgasm, your entire body shuddering on her lap with a wordless cry of pleasure and relief. Your entire nervous system focuses on your cock as it spasms and spurts in her hand for what feels like forever. "Good boy," you hear Sangeeta saying distantly, "that's a good boy."

When you can think again, you notice Sangeeta absently wiping her hand off on the side of her T-shirt as she helps you up off her lap. Sheepish, oddly ashamed, you adjust your clothing and zip back up. She was right, as usual: your brain is focusing a lot better now than it was a couple of minutes ago.

"Now then, Scottie, are you feeling a little more able to concentrate?"

"Uh... yeah. Um, thanks." You're embarrassed by how completely and how easily she took control of you, and amazed by how natural it felt.

"Don't worry, I promise you'll return the favor." Her warm smile and cheesy-bawdy wink make you giggle, but also make you think of the scent and warmth of her pussy. You do enjoy returning that particular favor, god knows. "Right now, though, we have something important to talk about, and I need your attention."

You sit up straight to show how attentive and smart you can be, and she takes a deep breath. "So, obviously, you've figured out that I'm proposing marriage. Which I never thought I'd do this young, but life takes some turns, you know? I've known I wanted a short-pants marriage or nothing since I was small, so I guess..." she smiles at herself and blushes a little, "...I guess I thought I wouldn't want to be a mother until I was a little older."

"Of course I--" you start, but there's her finger on your lips again, cutting you off midsentence.

"Do not say yes hastily, Scottie. This is a big decision and I want to see you think about it. First off, you need to know that 'no' is an okay answer. Saying yes will mean a lot of changes in your life, and it is okay if you're not ready for that. I am prepared to accept a no because I understand that. I need you to understand what a yes means. Can you listen?"

You nod mutely, and she smiles and continues. "First, obviously, it'll mean moving halfway across the country to a company town full of other engineering nerds like me, at an altitude so high marathon runners train there. That by itself is a big ask."

You nod again, and she puts one hand on yours, in a gesture that feels like half comfort and half gratitude. "Second, it'll mean being my child. I want that more than anything, but it needs to be what you want too. That means that in our home, you'll have no decision-making power, no adult rights. No right to pick your own clothes, your own bedtime, anything. I don't expect I'll let you vote, and while I'll probably give you some pocket money, that will be controlled and withheld entirely at my discretion, you understand? As far as our household is concerned, you will be too little and immature to work, to make decisions, or to do things without mommy's permission, and that status will be non-negotiable. That's an even bigger ask, I know."

You're trembling slightly, feeling like you're walking along the edge of a huge cliff, and at any moment you might leap off, to fall or to fly. Seeing you shaking, she puts her arms around you and pulls you in close, enveloping you in her warmth and her scent.

"Third, I will be a very strict mother. You will be getting a level of discipline you've never had before, because I want a good, obedient little boy and I will help you become one if it means you spend the entire first year over my knee. You will not enjoy it, I promise you that. You are the cutest little boy on earth, but you're also lazy, irresponsible, and bratty, and if we get married, there will be firm and consistent consequences for all of those things. I think you would benefit enormously from being raised properly and strictly, but if you don't think so, that's okay."

That's another terrifying prospect. Sangeeta spanks harder than your family or your other girlfriends ever did, and if she had full marital and parental authority over you, your butt would be in for a lot of pain. That seems like a hell of a way to live.

"So, do you understand what I'm talking about, Scottie? I want to marry you, I want it desperately, but it will be on my terms or not at all. And it's okay if those terms are too scary for you. If you need to sleep on it or something, that's fine, I don't expect an answer right--"

For once, you interrupt her, with the only answer you can honestly give: