Granny
- 4 years ago
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"Granny" free porn video
"Granny"
by Littlejo
When I moved in with my grandmother and her sister Elenore during the
summer after graduating high school (in order to live closer - and rent
free - to the college I'd be attending), Grandma immediately laid down the
law. She was not very pleased about my academic performance during High
School. I guess you could say I majored in partying and boys.
Within five minutes of getting unpacked, Grandma called a family
conference. She let me know in no uncertain terms that as far as she was
concearned, my behavior indicated I was still a child. If she was going to
provide thousands of dollars in tuition and provide a roof over my head, I
was damn well going to be an obedient child. In fact, the two months
leading up to school were to be spent being punished for having been a
"naughty child" through "age regression role play", as Grandma put it. I
had acted like a little brat and now I was going to have to be one until
such time as Grandma felt I deserved to be treated as an adult.
Granny informed me that we would begin immediately, or I could simply
return home to my mother's home. I love Mom, but she's an alcoholic
waitress who doesn't have two nickels to rub together. My grandmother
might be getting some sort of erotic charge out of the little game she was
going to make me play, but she also sincerely didn't want me to end up
like her daughter!
Two hours later, as I looked in the mirror, reflected back was the image
of a freshly punished, naughty little girl. My tear streaked cheeks (due
to the warming of my other two cheeks with a hair brush) were framed by
pigtails. I wore a very short little girls' style romper that barely
covered my backside. My bare legs ended in anklets and Mary Janes. All of
this was bad enough, but worst was the giant bow in my hair. When my
grandmother placed it atop my head, both she and Aunt Elenore had an air
about them of total triumph. It was as if I was being crowned with the
humiliating symbol of my defeat.
The alternative - no tuition!
When Grandma informed me we were going out with me dressed as I was (up
until this point I had somehow assumed her little game would be a private,
indoor activity) I flipped! I grabbed the phone and called my mother. Mom
just laughed.
"I've discussed this with your grandmother at length. You deserve the
humiliation. In fact, when I come up to visit, I have every intention of
giving you the spanking you should have gotten a long time ago! Besides,
you grandmother may have a kinky streak, but she controls the purse
strings! Obviously this whole 'punishment' routine is just an excuse to
dress you up like a little girl, but you'll do as she says! I can't afford
college for you. Your grandmother's offer of four years worth of tuition
is extremely generous. If you have to pay for it by making believe you're
eight and rubbing a sore bottom, so be it. Maybe you'll pay more attention
to your studies after standing in the corner for a while. Goodbye, LITTLE
GIRL. Have a nice summer. Don't forget to hold your grandmother's hand
when you cross the street!"
The thought of going out in public dressed as I was, and knowing I was
going to pass as a child - I'm very petite and small breasted - I was
mistaken for a child just last Halloween when dressed as a baby - caused
me to protest very loudly! My "smart mouth" earned me the spanking I
mentioned earlier and the hair bow I detested. I also forfeited my
panties. They were replaced by a large diaper and VERY noisy plastic
pants. Grandma had obviously been planning this for a while! "Worse than I
thought," said Grandma to Aunt Elenore. "I didn't think she'd have to earn
panties!"
It was bad enough to think that this outfit was inevitibly going to give
somebody a pretty good peek at my Winnie the Pooh panties before the day
was done, but the plastic pants! I couldn't make a move without making
crinkling noises that I thought could be heard a mile away!
"We're going shopping for some more clothes and an appropriate hair style.
A simple bob, I think," said my Grandmother as she stood me in front of
the full length mirror. "Let me assure you that failure to act the part of
an obedient child will result in getting your mouth washed out with soap
in the Ladies room at the mall and again tonight during bath time - at
which time we are also going to remove your pubic hair."
"By the time we get back from the mall, Aunt Elenore will have shipped
your wallet and luggage back to your mother. You've seen the last of
makeup, stockings, high heels and boys for a very long time, Missy!"
Grandma continued, as she adjusted the hair bow, "We will deal with your
menstral cycle in the following manner: During the week in question, you
will wear diapers under your clothes, which may only be removed by you
aunt or I. You will come to one of us, curtsy, and ask that we change your
diaper. Any funny business and you'll spend the week with your hands
cuffed wearing NOTHING but the diaper and a baby bonnet."
"Now go sit on the couch with your hands folded like a good little girl
until we're ready to go. I have to make an appointment for you at my
friend's hair salon and at Sear's portrait studio. Your mother and I both
want a souvenier of our little girl."
I sat on the couch with feet together and hands folded in my lap as I
watched Aunt Elenore leave with all of my luggage. I had never felt so
humiliated. I couldn't figure out how I was going to get into and out of
the car, walk around a shopping mall (Please! No!) and climb into and out
of the stylist's chair without displaying my plastic pants! I diidn't even
want tro consider how difficult a trip to a shoe store would be!
Of course, the stylist, my grandmother's friend, knew what I was wearing
under my romper long before I carefully climbed into the stylist's chair.
When Grandma brought me into the salon, the owner gave me a knowing smile,
a wink and a lollipop.
"Liz," she said to my grandmother, "you're a genius! She looks darling!
Youre right, though. A juvenile hair style will really enhance the
illusion. Besides, little girls have more fun things to do with their time
than taking care of their hair for hours each day. When you come back, you
won't recognize her!"
I started to cry as my long hair was shortened into a page boy. The shop
owner shoved the lollipop into my mouth and told me to be good, or she'd
give my grandmother a bad report.
"Good little girls get lollipops. Bad little girls have trouble sitting
down!" The salon owner was enjoying my prediciment immensely!
The stylist was just securing the bow to the top of my head as my
grandmother returned to collect me. I sat in the chair staring in
disbelief at the reflection of a little girl. I was stunned by how
convincingly juvenile I appeared. I would have had absolutely no problem
getting into the movies for half price! Behind me in the mirror the
stylist smiled wickedly as Grandma clapped her hands for joy.
"Wonderful job, Lorraine," said my grandmother to her friend. "I can't
thank you enough. It's better than I could have hoped for."
"My pleasure," replied Lorraine. "Actually, I'm quite experienced in these
matters. Your grandaughter isn't the first "little girl" with whom I've
worked. Some of theme weren't even female," she laughed.
As we left the salon and walked to Sear's (she was serious about the
portrait) I held Grandma's hand as instructed. I wanted at all costs to
avoid the trip to the Ladies' room I had been promised if I was bad. As we
walked, our reflection in the store windows displayed my very convincing
transformation. My newly bobbed hair, huge hair bow, lack of make up, bare
legs and the very loud Clack! Clack! Clack! of my Mary Janes clearly
showed what I was - a little girl who went over her grandmother's knee or
got her mouth washeded out with soap is she was naughty. By sheer force of
will my grandmother had turrned back the clock. I doubt that any other
eighteen year old in the mall that day was worried about being dragged by
her ear into the Ladies' room!
That night at 8:00, bath time rolled around. I did my best to cooperate as
Granny bathed me. She was obviously enjoying having a child to care for.
When my bath was almost completed, Aunt Elenore entered the bathroom with
my late grandfather's shaving cup and several disposable razors on a
serving tray.
"Grandma, please, no! It isn't necessary! No one will see anyway, under my
clothes! It's too embarrassing! Please!"
I was pulled from the tub by my ear and draped over my grandmother's knees
as Aunt Elenore lathered up the shaving cup. My wet behind increased the
sting of the spanking so much that I was kicking my legs and crying real
tears almost immediately.
"In the first place, little girl, I don't owe you an explanation! I'll
shave your head if I feel it's required! I have no intention of having
soiled and matted pubic hair stare me in the face while I'm changing a
diaper! You'll be easier to keep clean this way! Let this also be a
constant reminder that you've lost all the privileges that come with
adulthood. First and foremost, you're losing your pubic hair simply
because I said so." she ended with one last spank. "Now, get back into the
tub!"
Ten minutes later, after Aunt Elenore's careful work, my pubic mound was
bare. It remains so to this day.
My grandmother and aunt were fanatical about my remaining smooth and
hairless. They felt a complete lack of body hair would effect me
psychologically and reinforce my little girl status (they were right!).
Each Saturday I had to present myself in the nude to Aunt Elenore for
depiliation. The merest hint of stubble insured that she would repeat the
ritual established during that first bath night.
Shaving legs, underarms and pubic area resulted in way too much hair in
the tub. The plumbing protested. Needing a plumber to snake out the bath
drain was Aunt Elenore's inspiration for creating an outside hair-removal
routine. On Saturdays I was lathered up with a depiliatory from chin to
toes and had to stand on the back porch while it dried. After being
marched in the nude into the middle of the back yard (which I'm very happy
to say had a fence and lots of trees to block the view), buckets of warm
water washed away every trace of hair. I had to remain naked in the back
yard until I was completely dry. As soon as I was, I was smothered in
lotion. Aunt Elenore did not like the look of razor bumps. She was
striving for complete smoothness, as if no hair had ever grown. I had to
remain outside until the lotion was also dry - Grandma did not want any
oil stains in the house.
Having to stay outside is why I got caught by a meter reader - thankfully,
a female. Aunt Elenore would not let me run into the house. I had to stand
there stark naked and glistening with oil while my Aunt explained that I
was being punished and that the meter reader should mind her own business.
The meter reader laughed and told me I looked cute! She especially liked
the rosy imprint of my Aunt's hand on my bottom. Aunt Elenore explained
that the blush in my cheeks was placed there by a combination of my trying
to go inside as the meter reader was entering the yard and the five
fingers of her hand.
Well, I'm in school now and back in grown up clothes during the week,
although my wardrobe is still selected by Grandma and Aunt Elenore.
Nothing too provacative, and just a hint of lipstick on special occasions.
Weekends I may find myself back in infants' or girls' clothes- or nothing
at all if I'm grounded. There's nothing like being stark naked to prevent
you from venturing outside or answering the door!
I do date, but God help me if I miss my 11:00 pm curfew. I only made that
mistake once. Grandma had me over her knee with my bottem bared in about
ten seconds after my date and I reached the front porch. He witnessed the
spanking and the dance I did when it was over. Ever since, I'm too
humiliated to look him in the eye.
Mom made good on her promise to visit, breaking in a lacquered paddle
bought just for the occasion. Burnt into the wood is the inscription.
"Little Jo's board of education. Apply to seat of learning. Repeat as
neccessary."
Mom left it with Grandma as a token of her appreciation for the change in
my behavior. Mom was very impressed when I curtseyed and thanked her for
taking the time to correct me, before I went to stand in the corner.
Grandma retruned the favor by giving Mom a framed copy of my little girl
portrait from Sears. It hangs in Mom's living room over the TV, where it
is always seen. I'm told it's a great conversation piece.
The paddle hangs on Grandma's living room wall. Explaining it to friends
from school has required some fancy footwork on occasion, and I know that
I'm not fooling anybody. I always get a knowing smirk from whomever I'm
trying to snow. The embarrassment is awful. It's bad enough to be spanked
like a child. It's a hundred times worse to have anyone who visits put two
and two together!
If anyone asks point-blank, my grandmother confirms that I go bare-
bottomed over her knee when she deems necessary. My face never fails to
turn as red as my spanked backside when she shares such information! If
I'm asked by a guest whether or not I get spanked and lie about it to save
face, I am guaranteed a session with the paddle later that evening. I
would always rather face the spanking than the humliation of my peers'
laughing and teasing....until such time as I'm shamelessly dancing around
the living room like a wild banshee with my hands on my bare roasted rump
and tears streaming down my face!
Earlier this week I lied to a school chum about the paddle. After my
spanking, as I stood in the corner I was informed that the friend to whom
I had lied was being invited back to babysit me on Saturday while Grandma
and Aunt Elenore go to the movies. When my friend is escorted into the
living room by my grandmother she will find me sitting on the floor
wearing a diaper, a shortie tank top, a baby bonnet and sucking a
pacifier. That's if I'm good. If I'm not, my friend will find my bare
bottem pointing towards the ceiling as I lay over the back of a chair with
Grandma's hairbrush and spanking instructions laying on the coffee table.
I'm going to try to go with the diaper, although something tells me my
bare bottom will probably make an appearence before the night is out!
Gram has found a way to insure that good grades are my #1 priority. One
Saturday in the back yard, as Aunt Elenore's skin lotion was just about
dry, Grandma came into the back yard with her hairbrush and a shopping
bag. She told me I had a choice. I could either recieve a severe spanking
then and there, which the neighbors were sure to hear, or I could go sit
on a lawn chair and masturbate. I opted for masturbation. Sunk deep into
the seat cushions of the lawn chair, with my legs splayed over its arms, I
set about my business as Grandma shot a roll of film with a camera she
pulled out of the bag. As soon as I orgasmed, Grandma put me into a
chastity belt.
"You've been a good girl, so I felt you deserved one last orgasm before
your long drought," said Granny as she locked the belt into place. The
belt's design allows me to answer the call of nature, but masturbation and
penetration are impossible. Grandma only removes the belt during a
depiliatory session. If I'm very horny, I have her permission to approach
her wearing just the belt and request permission to masturbate. She
usually just says, "No dear. Go put your clothes back on." On occasion she
gives me permission to play with myself, but it always has to be done in
the backyard before an audience...either she, Aunt Elenore, or the members
of their bridge club (the times she's sent me home with a bridge club
member require a sepearate letter to describe).
Grandma says she's beginning to tire of the whole depiliatory process.
She's considering permanent hair removal via electrolysis. She says that
having my hairless condition remarked upon everytime I put my feet into a
doctor's stirrups or get intimate with a new partner will be a nice way to
insure that I never forget her after she's gone.
The key to the belt is kept on her person at all times. She assures me
that I will not get the key until I graduate with at least a 3.0 average.
It's hard to put into words, but I've really come to enjoy being under my
grandmother's thumb. The world she has confined me to is a small and
controlled one, filled with rituals and humiliating punishments. I don't
have a job, a car or credit cards. I don't even decide what clothes I'm
going to wear, if any. Grandma's rules make me feel safe. I've been turned
into a child who has to obey clearly defined rules or suffer the
consequences. The limits Grandma has imposed make me feel safe. Grandma
drives me to school and picks me up. I'm not allowed to go out after
school. She takes me shopping for whatever she decides I need.
Any time I'm standing in the corner with a warm bottom and the taste of
soap in my mouth it makes me feel deliciousy humiliated, but also
protected from the big, bad world. I love Grandma. I'm sure a lot of young
women would love to trade places with me!
Blaze
- 26.09.2021
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