My First Candy Cane
- 1 year ago
- 19
- 0
Jamie's Candy Cane Bra free porn video
The bra had a red and white candy cane piping over the top of each cup.
The rest of the bra was white, low plunge, Victoria's Secret underwire,
really non-descriptive. It really wasn't all that uncomfortable and I
felt I looked cute in it. Mother gave me an angry look that indicated
immediate trouble.
"What the hell are you wearing?" she asked. I looked down at myself, and
then looked back at her like I didn't understand the question. "Your bra
and panties don't coordinate, dear," like she was wondering how I could
have possibly selected the wrong bra with the panties I'd selected for
the day. I knew they didn't coordinate, like duh! I wasn't blind. The
panties were also from Victoria's Secret Signature Cotton Collection; a
pretty light blue floral pattern. They were also quite comfortable and I
honestly didn't give it a second thought that Mother would have a fashion
crisis over my undies not coordinating.
"Get to your room, now!" she demanded. I walked a few feet in front of
Mother as she followed me into my bedroom. "Dump all your panties on the
bed," she directed, pointing me toward my dresser. I opened the top
drawer and pulled out a large handful of my panties and placed them on
the bed. She demanded I remove the panties I was currently wearing and to
place them in the laundry basket. She sat on the bed next to my pile of
underwear and started holding each up. "Does this coordinate with the bra
you're currently wearing?" she'd ask. She knew full well which panties
went well with the bra I was wearing and which ones didn't. I think she
just wanted me to understand that I had plenty of better options than the
decision I had made this morning by not selecting the correct panty.
After five minutes of panty coordination lessons, Mother had a small pile
of panties that did coordinate well with the bra and told me to put them
all on. There were 23 panties in the coordinating pile and about 40 pairs
that weren't the best choice. Mother wanted to stress to me that from now
on, I'd better not pick the wrong underwear for any reason. She'd done
this to me before, making me wear an excessive number of panties. She
said it made my bottom look a little more womanly. The first time I had
to wear more than one pair of panties was when I was about 7 and wet
myself in front of Mother. She was about to put me in a diaper and rubber
pants but felt that 7 years old was way too big for a child to be wetting
their panties.
She told me that if I had bladder problems, she'd get me some underwear
protection but since she didn't have anything available at the moment,
she'd just have me wear more than one pair of underwear. We were visiting
my Mother's sister's house and Auntie Gaile has only daughters. Mother
'borrowed' some of my niece's panties and had me wear a bunch to help me
stay dry. My niece wasn't told about my taking her undies, but Mother
said I'd be replacing them all soon, which I did.
You cannot believe how uncomfortable it is to wear 23 pairs of panties
all at the same time. My legs were hurting, I felt like I was wearing a
diaper. The waist bands were digging into my flesh. Because of the
thickness of the material, I had to waddle a bit instead of regular
walking. Mother requested that I wiggle my hips more as that would make
my day a little less uncomfortable. "And for Christ's sake, take smaller
steps!" she yelled as she followed me around watching as I walked around
after putting on the panties.
Mother informed me I couldn't just be parading about the house in just
lingerie, so she went to my closet and pulled out a baby doll nightgown.
I told her I shouldn't be walking around all day in my pajamas either,
but she informed me that this way, I could visually see that the
underwear I was wearing coordinated well. If I'd have just put on a skirt
and a top or a dress to cover my bra and panties, I wouldn't have been in
this mess in the first place. Mother had me put up my hands as she
lowered the baby doll over my head. Needless to say, it was obvious that
I was wearing a lot of underwear.
Mother and I went to the kitchen where she'd already made a pot of coffee
and asked if I'd like some. I should have thought about this more but I
hadn't had breakfast so I immediately agreed. She poured some coffee in a
cup and sat down. Stupid me, I thought she'd poured the cup for me but I
was mistaken. I walked to the coffee maker and poured my own cup, Mother
watching my butt all the way. She kept demanding that I wiggle my bottom
more.
I sat down with Mother and prepared my coffee with sugar and cream. How
odd it felt to sit down, for one it was like I was sitting on a telephone
book. And then, my bare legs touched the coldness of the chair, as
normally I'd have worn a pair of pajama bottoms, but I don't think I
could have selected a pant that would have allowed me to pull the
waistband over the panties I was directed to wear by Mother.
We sat and chatted for a while, until I noticed that I had to use the
restroom. I started squirming in my seat and Mother asked if I needed to
use the restroom. Of course I did, but now I was going to have to waddle
to the restroom, remove all the panties, and relieve myself. Mother
informed me that she wasn't going miss this for the world. She told me I
was to remove each panty, one at a time, and place them properly on the
sink cabinet, and she wanted me to say out loud the color and style and
note how well it coordinated with the bra.
It took me a few minutes to remove all my panties just to relieve myself.
The pile of panties looked silly next to the toilet as I sat down to
urinate. Mother won't allow me to stand to use the restroom for anything.
She says boys splatter and never clean up after themselves and that's
just not acceptable in her home.
How did I get into this mess? Mother is obsessive compulsive - obviously.
She can't handle any mess, anywhere in her home. After I was born, Father
left. It was obvious to me that Mother was to blame as nobody could meet
her expectations. As Mother was angry about Father leaving after my
birth, she seemed to grow hatred toward all men, and didn't seem too
happy about having to raise a boy child in her home. She told me that
after Father had left, my room became pink. She totally ignored my penis
and raised me as a girl. She let my hair grow and curled it constantly so
nobody would doubt my gender. Dresses and tights seemed to be my daily
apparel as pictures around the home all indicate Mother's passion for
pink dresses.
She taught me early on to clean, clean, clean the whole house all the
time, well, at least 8 hours each day. If I left a toy out, Mother would
scream at me. It's not like she didn't let me play with toys, but when
finished, everything in its place and a place for everything. This meant
dolls in one place, games in another. Books belonged in alphabetical
order on the bookrack. Sounds crazy, huh? Well, when you grow up with it,
it's normal. Mother never took me to McDonalds and any other type of fast
food restaurant. It was always salads and girl portions, with white
gloves and napkins on my lap. Somehow she was independently wealthy, and
she's never talked with me about where the money came from.
The doorbell rang about 10 am and Mother walked to the door to answer it.
We weren't expecting guests today and I was still dressed a bit peculiar
this day. I started walking up the stairs so whoever was here wouldn't
see me dressed like this. Mother called to me to come to the door as I
had a visitor. "Mother, I can't come to the door like this!" I pleaded.
"Don't be silly, Jamie, your friend Tammie is here to visit." "You don't
want to make her feel unwelcomed, do you?" Mother asked.
I was hiding on the other side of the door and when I walked around where
Tammie could see me, she held her hand up to her mouth and giggled a bit.
"Oh, you're still in your jammies," Tammie observed. "I can come back
later if you'd like," she suggested. No, Mother would not hear of it. She
invited Tammie right in and suggested that I take her right to my room.
She told Tammie that she was sure I'd explain my current wardrobe
selection, and that it was punishment for not knowing how to properly
dress for the day. Tammie looked at her like she was crazy, but came in
anyway and we walked up the stairs together to play in my room.
I hadn't put away all the underwear that was on my bed and Tammie asked
why on earth I'd have that much underwear. I asked her how many panties
she had, and she responded with about 20. I told her I was wearing more
than that right now. She said she was sorry that my mother was so weird
and glad she didn't have these kinds of problems at her house. She helped
me put away the clothes and we were able to play for a while. We played
'The Dating Game' and 'Candy Land' for about an hour when Mother knocked
at the door.
"Would you ladies like some lunch?" she asked. We both jumped up and
started running toward the door. Mother stopped us immediately and
requested that we clean up before we even started thinking about getting
downstairs for lunch. Tammie and I started cleaning the room. Tammie
asked why Mother didn't just bring the food up to us. I cracked up
laughing. Mother bringing food to me! That was the funniest thing I'd
heard of. I told her we'd be lucky if we didn't have to make our own
lunch. I was right. We went to the kitchen and there was nothing on the
table. How I wish I had a mother who would make a meal for me. Tammie
took it all in stride as we opened the refrigerator and took the sandwich
materials to make our meal. Mother stood over us like a hawk and demanded
that we clean up after our selves before we sat down to eat our food.
Tammie poured the milk as I made the sandwiches. Luckily, we made very
little mess and were able to clean quickly. The meal went well, other
than Mother sitting with us, listening to us as we talked. Mother asked
us about the games we played and talked to Tammie about what she thought
about my costume for the day. Tammie was confused about what I was
wearing being a costume. Mother asked if I'd explained to Tammie that I
hadn't coordinated my panties so we had a little exercise about clothing
selections.
We ate quickly then went back up the stairs. Mother said I could dress
normally for the rest of the day. Thank goodness, I was getting tired of
feeling like a baby in her diapers. Tammie and I talked about it for a
while. We agreed that Mother was definitely crazy. I warned Tammie to not
ever suggest to Mother that the color of a girl's panty made no
difference if nobody was going to see it anyway. Tammie and I think
alike. We agreed that a swimsuit top and bottom should match, or the
correct color shoes with a dress or something like that. We opened one of
the Seventeen magazines and found plenty of examples of totally bad
coordination of tops and bottoms. But it appeared that was in fashion. If
only I could get Mother to understand that little things like fashion
blunders are okay in today's society. We had a pretty normal rest of the
day, reading through magazines and talking.
Before Tammie left, I thanked her for her visit and helping me to stay
out of Mother's way. It was one of my better days.
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