Danny?s Mom - Part 4 Of 6 free porn video

Danny's Mom - Part 4 of 6 In which Danny's Mom sees his breasts for the first time, Danny learns the cause of the changes in his body, has an embarrassing incident at a restaurant, begins to use the name of Danni, gets a new hairstyle, has his first date with Craig, and wears high heels for the first time. December Well, Mom can't ignore the situation any more. I was standing in the bathroom this morning, wearing only my panties while I dried my hair. All of a sudden the door opened and Mom walks in, asking me if she can borrow my hairbrush. All of a sudden she just stopped and stared at me. And her jaw dropped as she continued to stare at my chest. I squealed a little and dropped the hair dryer and tried to cover up my chest with my hands, but the swellings are so large now that it was like trying to cover up two grapefruits. About the best I could do was cover the swollen and protruding large pink nipples that grace the swellings. After what must have been several seconds, but which seemed like several hours, Mom stepped forward and gathered me into her arms as I collapsed in tears. Over the rest of the day my mother and I did a lot of talking. After a lot of heated discussion, I finally drew from her the story of what she had done to me. Basically what she told me was that she was afraid of losing me after Dad died. For some reason, she started feeding me female hormones, hoping that they would "quiet me down" and make me a little more dependent upon her. Little did she guess the impact that the pills would have on my body. As we talked freely, I realized that the changes I had been noticing in my body were the hormones reshaping it to give me the secondary sex characteristics of a girl instead of a boy: the heavier hips; higher voice; softer skin; lack of body hair; and of course my "breasts." "So OK Mom, what happened is history, and I can stop taking the pills and I'll go back to looking like a boy, right?" I said. "I'll think about it," she replied, "I really like your appearance now and I'm not sure that I don't want you to stay as you are." I started to argue with her and she cut me off by saying, "Don't raise your voice to me. We'll continue this discussion when you've had a chance to cool down." When I came down for breakfast the next morning the usual brown pill was by my plate. I scowled and pushed it away but Mom got that: "You'd better take it if you know what's good for you" look on her face, so I swallowed the pill with my orange juice. "A couple more days of pills probably won't hurt me," I thought, "and I can work on her and get her to change her mind." January By the end of the month, the only real change that I had noted in my body was that my breasts had continued to enlarge a little and now sagged down an inch or so on my chest instead of just sticking straight out. Mom tried to talk me into wearing a bra but I refused - a boy wearing a bra? Come on now, give me a break! I did let her measure me the other day and she calculated that if I did get a bra, that I would probably need about a size 36 with a B cup. It's funny, over a year ago I guess I was what you'd call a "tit man." That is I liked girls with big tits and could get really turned on by watching a girl with huge tits and a tight sweater. And now I've got a pair of my own to play with. Mom's still been after me to wear a bra "..... so that you won't develop stretch marks and your breasts won't sag as you get older." Well, I really don't think I have to worry about stretch marks too much at my age, and if they want to sag, so be it. I was looking at myself in the mirror the other day. From the back I look like a young girl with my slim figure and long blond hair falling almost to my hips. I sure turn the guy's heads when I walk thru the mall these days. I walked past some old lady the other day and heard her mutter something like "...... totally disgusting. She should wear something to cover up that chest of hers." I thought that was soooo funny that I giggled behind her back. Neither of us felt like cooking supper tonight so Mom decided that we'd go out to supper - she wants to go back to the steakhouse. As I was getting dressed, I reached into my closet and pulled out one of the newer blouses. Mom didn't like it and reached into the back of my closet and picked out one of the blouses that I had worn a number of months ago. While it had fit me pretty well at that time, it was now very tight. In fact, I found that I couldn't button the top two buttons of the blouse, and I was showing a couple of inches of cleavage, and there were two mounds of white flesh which were swelling out of the top of my blouse. "Mom, I can't wear this. It's way too tight and revealing," I protested. "Nonsense - you look very nice," she said and we drove to the restaurant. When we arrived at the restaurant, Mom asked the hostess if there was any chance that Craig was working that night and whether he could be our waiter. I was, like, thinking: "What's with this Craig stuff, Mom?" The hostess checked her sheet and said, "You're in luck. Craig's working tonight, and there's a vacant booth in his area," so she seated us there. As Craig came over to our booth with the menus, I could see that his eyes were draw to the generous cleavage I was displaying, and also to my breasts straining against the tight fabric of my blouse and my nipples which were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Craig stammered a little as he recited the specials for us and I noticed the large bulge he was developing in the crotch of his pants. I mean, I like to look nice, but to get a guy turned on like that? As Craig was serving us our salads and then when he brought our entrees a little later, I noted that he was spending more time at our table than at any of the other tables. He also came back a number of times to make polite conversation with us and to ask if everything was to our liking. I also noticed that his face appeared to be a little flushed and he was developing some sweat marks on his shirt. It was shortly after Craig served our entrees that things began to go downhill. Mom had ordered her usual filet mignon but I had felt like pasta that night and had ordered a large plate of spaghetti. As I was reaching across the table to grab the shaker of parmesan cheese, I heard a slight ripping noise, followed by several pops. That was immediately followed by a "splat" sound and a feeling of warmth and wetness on my breasts. I looked down in horror to find that the tightly stretched fabric of my blouse had finally given up and had split open. Worse, unencumbered by my blouse, my breasts had fallen out and were now lying in my plate of spaghetti. I quickly reached down and tried to stuff them back into my blouse, but with the fabric torn there was no way I could keep them covered up. Even worse was the fact that my breasts were covered with spaghetti sauce and holding them was like trying to hold two greasy water balloons - they kept slipping out of my hands. At first there was a moment of silence in the restaurant and then a buzz of excited conversation as the other diners realized my predicament. I just sat there, trying to (unsuccessfully) cover up my tomato sauce drenched breasts with my hands, and crying and softly moaning, "Noooo. Noooo. Noooo." Craig came to my rescue as he ran to the kitchen, grabbed a large towel, and returned to my table where I wrapped the towel around the upper part of my body. My mother tossed her credit card down on the table, said that she'd be back later to pick it up, and we ran from the restaurant. Neither of us talked on the ride home and I just scrunched down in my seat and softly sobbed. When we got home, I just quickly toweled myself off, got into bed, and fell fast asleep. I don't know why I awoke later in the night but the house was dark and quiet and I just lay in bed, reliving my humiliating experience at the restaurant. As I lay there, I smelled the aroma of spaghetti sauce and realized that in my haste to get to bed I had done a very poor job of cleaning myself off and there were still large areas of my breasts that were covered with the sauce. I also realized that since I hadn't had anything for supper other than a small salad, that I was extremely hungry and so I reached down and brought first one breast, and then the other, up to my mouth and licked the sauce from them. Now I won't say that I filled my stomach but the sensations as I licked my breasts were very pleasant and when I had cleaned my breasts of the sauce, I continued to lick them and suck on my nipples. Comforted, I drifted back to sleep. February Well, after my experience at the restaurant, Mom read me the riot act and told me that I was going to wear a bra whether I wanted to or not. I was going to point out that she was the one who had picked out the tight blouse that caused the problem when it split, but I figured that it wasn't worth arguing with her because she always won our arguments. It was really embarrassing when she took me to the lingerie section of the store because I didn't know anything about styles or sizes or anything like that, but Mom acted like she was in charge and picked out several samples and came into the changing room at the store with me and helped me try them on. Like, I didn't even know how to snap the "thingies" behind my back. Plus, there were a number of times when she touched my breasts as she was helping me try on the different bras, or when she shifted the flesh of my breasts around to get them into the cups correctly, and that felt pretty weird. She wanted to get some fancy ones and some in different colors but I told her that all I wanted was a basic bra so we ended up getting a couple of white ones in size 36C that seemed to fit me pretty well. It really felt strange to be wearing this "thing" that was enclosing my breasts but after a week or so I got used to its feel and got to be pretty good at putting it on and reaching behind my back to snap the clasps. Now, I didn't wear a bra all the time. In fact, I usually only put one on when I left the house. The rest of the time it just felt better to go braless and I liked the way it felt when my breasts swung back and forth a little and rubbed on the inside of my sweater or sweatshirt. Eric and I were over at Emma's last night, watching a DVD that we had rented. At one point, Emma commented that we were getting to be like the Three Musketeers. I got a puzzled look on my face and asked: "Three Musketeers - like the candy bar?" "No silly," Eric giggled, "Like the three guys a long time ago that had the motto: 'One For All, And All For One'." Uh, OK, whatever. After a minute or so of silence, Eric asked, "So Danny, uh, I guess that you're pretty glad not to have to wear pantyhose any more - I can't believe that we really agreed to that stupid bet." "Well, umm, it turns out that Mom saw me wearing them, and thought that they looked good on me, and now she has me wearing them all the time," I answered. Eric got this big grin on his face and said, "Wow, that's a coincidence, I'm still wearing them too." "Because your Mom made you?" I asked. "No, I just like the way they feel," he answered. At that point Emma interrupted with: "If you boys are going to talk about your underwear all night, I'm going to my bedroom and read," so we shut up. It must have been about five minutes later when Emma said, "Not to bring up underwear again, but Danny, aren't you wearing something else that's new tonight?" I was like: "Huh, what are you talking about," and she just gestured at my chest. I didn't say anything but I was blushing like mad and Eric wouldn't give up: "Danny's got a secret. Come on big guy, show us what Emma's talking about," and on, and on. So to shut him up, I pulled off the baggy sweater that I had been wearing and exposed my chest and bra. Eric's eyes were, like, bulging out of his head as he saw my 36C cups with a little soft flesh bulging out around the sides and top of the white cups. He was sitting next to me and he reached over and cupped my left breast. I slapped his hand away and said, "Now, now, you can look but not touch," and then continued, "OK Emma, I showed you mine, now let's see yours." Emma looked kinda mad that I'd turned the tables on her but unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off to expose her tan bra with what looked to be 34B cups. "Very nice," I said, "too mad Eric doesn't have anything to show us," and Emma and I both laughed at Eric who was now blushing and looking mad at the same time. So for the rest of the evening Emma and I just went "topless" and enjoyed the stares we were getting from Eric - even though I think that he stared at me more than at her. Mom was at work today and I was just hanging around the house in the afternoon and watching some of the soaps while waiting for Oprah to come on. I was getting a little hungry and I figured that I'd make a sandwich so I got the peanut butter out of the cupboard, and was reaching for the bread, when suddenly (and I have no idea why) I remembered lying in bed last month and licking the spaghetti sauce off my breasts and how I had liked the sensation so much. So I pulled off my sweatshirt and just sat at the kitchen table, opened the peanut butter, stuck two fingers into the jar and scooped out a big gob of peanut butter. I smeared the peanut butter on one of my nipples, then scooped more peanut butter out of the jar and smeared it on my other nipple. After licking off my fingers, I reached down, picked up my right breast and held it up to my mouth to lick the peanut butter off the nipple. Wow, did that feel great! Even better than the spaghetti sauce because the peanut butter was really sticky and I had to lick and suck really hard to get it all off. After I cleaned off my right breast I turned my attention to my left breast and cleaned it as well, moaning a little in pleasure from the sensation of my nipple being licked and sucked. After I finished, I was sweating and a little shaky so I just pulled my sweatshirt back on, went over and lay down on the couch, and idly began to massage my breasts through the thick fabric of my sweatshirt. I guess I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I remember was my mother coming into the house after work. She shut the front door, came into the kitchen, noticed the open peanut butter jar on the kitchen table and asked, "Have a little snack this afternoon?" I guess I must have blushed a little as I responded, "Uh, yeah, just got a little hungry while I was watching TV," for she looked at me for a second, then shrugged and turned to start preparing supper. Later that evening she asked me if I wanted to go out for a walk. There wasn't anything good on the TV and the weather was warm for February so I agreed. She set the course as we walked and after a couple of blocks, we ended up at a small building called the Sports Bar. "Come on in, I'll buy you a drink," she said. I wasn't wild about going in to a bar but I followed her through the door. The place was full of cigarette smoke and pretty crowded - guys mostly - and all the booths were filled so she asked a couple of guys at the bar to shift around so that there were two seats together for us. She ordered a couple of draft beers for us. Now, I've had beer before and while I'll drink it, it's not one of my favorite beverages. But the glass was sitting in front of me so every often I'd pick it up and take a tiny sip of it. Just as I was finishing, the bartender came over and put a shot glass down in front of each of us. "What are these for?" I asked Mom. "It means that someone bought us a couple of drinks," she answered, and sure enough I saw some guy down at the end of the bar smiling at us. So we ordered two more beers and part way through the second, two more shot glasses appeared. Well, I made it through the second beer and part way through the third but then I started feeling pretty dizzy and I had to tell Mom that if I didn't get some fresh air, that I was going to toss my cookies. She reluctantly agreed to leave and we walked home - with me stumbling a little. March Eric called up yesterday and asked me if I wanted to go to a movie. "Yeah, sure," I said, "What movie were you and Emma thinking about?" "Well, uh, um," he said, "I wasn't, like, thinking about Emma, but just like, you and me." Well, I guess that there really wasn't any law that said Emma had to come with us, so I agreed and Eric came over to my house and we walked to the theatre. As we were walking along, Eric kind of slid his hand into mine and we were walking along holding hands. At first I was going to pull my hand out of his but it did feel kind nice to be close to him like that, so I just smiled at him and squeezed his hand a little. As we were watching the movie, I kinda snuggled up against Eric and laid my head on his shoulder. Walking home, we held hands again, and then when we were saying goodnight in front of my house, Eric leaned over and kissed me. Now it wasn't a big sloppy kiss or anything, and I wasn't sure that I liked being kissed by a guy, but it all happened so fast that I couldn't pull away, so I just told him that I'd had a good evening and went into my house. Mom and I were walking through the mall last week, just kind of idly browsing through some of the women's clothing sections in the department stores when we ran into Mrs. Korb, our next door neighbor. Mom and Mrs. Korb chatted for a few minutes and then Mrs. Korb asked, "You know, I haven't seen Danny around for several months, and who is this beautiful young lady?" Mom just paused for a second and then said, "Well, you know how teenage boys are. Danny and I were having some issues and we decided that it might be a good idea for Danny to spend some time with my brother in St. Louis. And this young lady is my niece, Danni, who will be spending some time with me to take advantage of some of the special art classes in this area." Huh? So now I was "Danni?" I've got to admit, though, Mrs. Korb didn't bat an eye and she and Mom went on chatting about odds and ends for another few minutes before we said our goodbyes and headed off to find our car in the parking lot. "That was pretty quick thinking," I said to Mom when we got in the car. "But how did you come to pick the name 'Danni'?" "I'd just been looking at a Danni Parker dress so the name just kind of popped out," she said, "plus, you shouldn't have too much trouble remembering it," and she winked at me. She then continued, "I hope you like being 'Danni' because Mrs. Korb is a big gossip and that story will be all over the neighborhood by tonight," Mom said. That kind of surprised me - I wasn't sure how I liked the name "Danni," but after I thought it over for awhile I decided that it wasn't too bad - plus there wasn't a lot that I could do at that point anyway. So from that time on, even when Mom and I were alone, she referred to me as "Danni." The phone rang while I was alone in the house today and the caller ID showed it as coming from a "Craig Fox." Craig Fox? I didn't think we knew anyone by that name and I wasn't going to answer it but then I noticed that it was from a local exchange in our area code so I picked it up. "Hello," a voice said, "this is Craig Fox and you're probably going to think this is a really dumb phone call." Yeah, I was beginning to think that, when he continued, "But I'm a waiter at the Sizzler Steakhouse and I'm trying to locate a young lady that had a little 'problem' at my table back in January." "So, why are you calling me?" I asked. "Well, I got the name of the older lady from her credit card, and this is the only phone number for that name in the phone book. And, you know, I'm beginning to feel really stupid. I'm sorry I bothered you," he answered and it sounded like he was going to hang up. "Wait," I said, "this Dan..., I mean this is Danni, and I'm the girl that you helped." So anyway, Craig and I chatted for a half hour or so and he sounded like a nice guy. I thanked him for helping me, and he asked if he could call me again sometime, and I told him he could. End of conversation. I hadn't checked out my "equipment" for awhile so when I was taking a shower this morning, I spread my legs and looked down at my crotch. My penis was considerably smaller than I remembered it being - maybe a quarter inch thick and a little less than an inch long. When I felt around under my penis I couldn't find my testicles at all, just a bulge of smooth skin where they used to be. I wondered if I could still masturbate so I played with my penis for several minutes but nothing happened. So I gave up "down there" and spent about ten minutes or so playing with my soapy breasts. It just felt so good to hold them in my soapy hands, and feel their warmth and softness as I massaged them, that I didn't even worry about what was happening to my penis and testicles. April Mom and I have been going to the Sports Bar once or twice a week now. I like it better since I've gotten to recognize most of the "regulars." We'll just sit in a booth and talk, or sit at the bar and watch TV. Usually when we sit at the bar, by the time we leave, someone else at the bar has bought us a couple of drinks. While we were sitting at the bar last night, the guy on my right hand side was smoking. Now, I've smoked a cigarette on occasion but I never got to the point where I was smoking them on a regular basis. Anyway, when he lit up another cigarette he held the pack out to me and asked me if I wanted one. To tell the truth I really didn't but I didn't want to turn him down so I just said, "Yeah, sure," and took one. The first pull I took on it went down into my lungs and I coughed a little but after that I just pulled the smoke into my mouth and didn't inhale deeply. So I just sat there and watched a wrestling match on the TV, and chatted with the guy, and let him buy me beers, and by the time Mom and I left, I was surprised to look into the ashtray and find that I'd smoked almost a half pack of cigarettes. Man, the next morning my throat was sore and my mouth tasted awful. "Way too many cigarettes," I thought. I guess Mom thought that it was time to have our hair done for she made an appointment at the beauty parlor for us. The stylist asked me if I wanted to keep the same style and I nodded 'yes', but Mom said; "No," and pulled him aside and they talked for a minute or two. It took him a long time to finish my hair and when he was finally done and I looked in the mirror, I couldn't believe how different I looked. My fairly straight hair had been transformed into a mass of tight curls that framed my face and dropped to several inches below my shoulders. In addition, my light blonde color was now a light red color - I was a redhead! I guess it did look pretty spectacular, but it was also a really big change. Later that day I went over to Emma's to ask her about it. When she opened the door and saw me, she just gasped a little and stepped back a pace and said, "Danni, what's she done to you now." I was so surprised at her reaction that I just burst into tears, and she came over and put her arm around me and brought me into the kitchen and poured me some juice and calmed me down. After that, we just went into the family room and talked for a couple of hours about what changes I should make in my makeup to go with my new hair style. It was so comforting to be able talk to Emma like that, that I was in a really good mood when I went home. I brought up the subject of the pills with Mom again this morning: "Mom, about these pills....." "No," she yelled - end of discussion. I'm not sure whether it's due to the pills or the fact that I haven't been getting out of the house much this winter to exercise and have gotten into the bad habit of snacking while I watch TV in the afternoon. Anyway, I guess I've gained a little weight as my bras are pretty tight when I wear them, with the soft white flesh of my breasts swelling out around the sides of the cups in my bra. And my jeans are pretty tight and there's a tiny little roll of white flesh that sticks out over the waistband for an inch or so. I've decided that I need to cut back on the snacks and start getting more exercise. In the meantime I can live with the tight jeans but the bras are really uncomfortable so I ended up going to the mall yesterday and buying a couple of new ones. I had to go to a 38D size before I could get comfortable with the fit. I was getting tired of the plain tan colored ones so I got some different colors - black, and red, and pink and yellow. And in addition to the colors, I chose styles that had lace and frilly stuff on them. Mom bought me some new pairs of shoes yesterday and I'm not wild about the style. Like, I had been wearing sandals, and these were still sandals, but they had these high heels. Well, the heels were only about two inches high, and they were pretty wide, so I was able to walk around in them pretty well after a couple of day's worth of practice. I was complaining to Mom about how they were a little harder to walk in and how my feet would be a little sore after I'd worn them for a day but she just cut me off with: "You look a lot better with them, and you're going to keep on wearing them." Yeah Mom, OK, you're the boss. Now I know that Mom's always been kind of a nut about keeping up the family photo album. Whenever there was a party, or an event at school, or when we went on vacation, her Nikon would come out and she'd be shooting pictures like mad. Well, I guess that she thought that she hadn't any recent photos of me so she dragged out the Nixon and shot a couple of rolls of film yesterday. The photos started out OK - me in my room, head and shoulders shots, me around the house, putting on my makeup - the usual stuff. Then she wanted shots of me taking a shower, and soaping up my breasts and then washing off the soapsuds. I'm, kind of, like: "OK, Mom - this is kind of strange but you're the boss," so I posed as she told me to. After the shower though, it got even stranger - she had me dry off and then handed me a bottle of Baby Oil and told me to rub a coating of it all over my body. Then she took a series of shots of me standing by posing lights so that the light was reflected off my glistening skin. Then after that she wanted some shots of me holding up my breasts and playing with them. And then she finally took some shots with me sitting on a stool with my legs spread wide and my crotch showing. "Just don't use any of those shots in this year's Christmas Card," I was thinking. A day or so later, Mom hinted that she thought it would be a good idea if I spent less time with Eric and Emma - well, "hinted" isn't quite what she said - "I don't want you hanging around with that pair" is more like it. Craig called yesterday and asked me if I wanted to go to a movie with him. I didn't have any plans for that evening, and was feeling a little bored so I said that sounded pretty good to me. As I was getting dressed to go out, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to wear a bra or not. I tried not wearing one and that let my breasts sag down on my chest. When I put on my sweater you could see the bulge of my breasts under the thick fabric and they didn't stretch the fabric out too much, but whenever I moved around you could see them swinging back and forth under my sweater and I wasn't sure that I wanted to put on that much of a display for Craig - especially the first time he had asked me to go out with him. So I ended up putting on a bra - which did support my breasts a lot more. The only problem then was that instead of hanging down on my chest, now they stuck out in front of me maybe three inches or so and really stretched out my sweater so I was calling attention to them in a different way. I finally rummaged around in my closet and found a bigger sweater that wouldn't emphasize the size of my breasts as much and ended up wearing that. Even so, when Craig pulled up in front of my house, and honked the horn, and I ran out and jumped into his car, I could see his eyes taking a close look at my chest - and my new hairstyle, of course. But all in all the evening went pretty well. The movie was OK, and we ate lots of candy and popcorn. I was a little nervous about what would happen after the movie but we just drove around for a half hour or so and talked and then Craig took me home. We both agreed that we'd had fun and wanted to go out again sometime. No snuggling, no hugging or fondling, no kissing - just a platonic evening. Just when I'd gotten the hang of wearing the sandals with the higher heels, Mom went out and got me some more sandals in a more extreme style. Now, the new ones had heels but they were higher - like four inches. And what was worse the heels tapered down at the base and were very narrow. I think they were called "stilettos," or something. Anyway, they were a lot harder to walk in then the ones with the shorter, wider heels and for the first week or so I had to be ready to grab onto something when I wore them around the house as I was pretty unsteady on them. Again, Mom would not hear of me not wearing them so I eventually learned to walk in them. And I did walk differently in them as I had to swing my hips more and guys that might not have notice me before were now really staring at me as I gyrated through the mall. Since I've gone out with Craig, I've kind of lost interest in hanging around with Eric or Emma. Eric's called a couple of times and suggested that we get together but I've been non-committal. And since Mom doesn't want me to see him, it's probably for the best. (Author: This is the first time that Danny's Mother has provided any explanation as to why she began treating her son with hormones - and in fact, in later parts of the story will not provide any additional explanation. Whether her explanation is believed is up to the reader. And in fact towards the end of this part of the story her behavior towards her son becomes increasingly domineering. As we'll see in subsequent parts of the story her increasing domination continues and even puts her son in situations where his safety is at risk. One reader suggested mental illness - that seems a likely explanation.) (End of Part 4 - to be continued)