A Mother s Helping Hands Part III
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Meeting Mother Part III free porn video
Meeting Mother, Part III
By Sandy Brown
Emily took my hand, and together we walked out of my bedroom and downstairs
to Mother.
I stood there with the two of them, wearing the pink sweater, and the
almost-matching lipstick, feeling a swirl of emotions. I had spent years
trying to put my girlish, sissyish side behind me, to find a 'normal'
girlfriend and live a 'normal' life. And I had felt like I had done that,
even though I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I had put a very
important part of me in a box, locked it, and buried it.
And now, in one evening, it felt like I was back to being the fourteen
year-old who posed in that last picture - pretty, feminine, even a little
bit sexy; wearing makeup, gorgeous blonde hair, a pretty pink sweater (just
like now, eight years later!) staring into the camera with a face that
showed both happiness and comfort. It was clear, looking at that last
photo in the album, the one that had also been hung up on my bedroom wall,
that I had blossomed into a confident young lady.
No, saying I felt like that fourteen year old again was not quite right.
If anything, I felt like I had regressed to YOUNGER than that confident
fourteen year old. I was closer to the person in that FIRST picture, an
eight year old boy who was wearing a dress for the very first time, who was
afraid of what was happening to him, but was excited at the same time. A
boy who had agreed to the Sunday dress-up game because he no longer wanted
to go to school dressed as a sissy, where other boys were making fun of
him. Yes, a boy who was nervous about what was happening, but was also
entranced by the pretty pink nail polish on his fingers, who loved the
swirl of his pretty pink satin dress around his knees, who loved the feel
of the white tights around his legs. And who loved, even more than any of
that, the feeling of having entered a special, secret society with Mother
and Janie.
So, what had happened to the pretty, confident girl in that last photo?
What road had I travelled to get from that young ingenue to the confused,
frightened young man, standing before the two women in my life, wearing
lipstick?
That last weekend I was dressed, when I was fourteen, had started like most
others. My brothers and my father had gone off to a hockey tournament in
Canada. Perhaps that was part of the problem - because Mother and I and
Janie had a whole weekend, instead of just a day, we let our guard down,
and got caught up in how much fun we were having, three girls together.
Mother decided that because we had lots of time, we could do some fun girly
things that we might otherwise not be able to do. Besides, Mother had some
other cravings - she had wanted not just the girl she had been denied, she
had wanted a LITTLE girl. I mean, it was also fun for her to play at
grown-up girl things with me, like makeup, but she was feeling me start to
grow up, and she missed her little baby girl.
One thing that always happened when she put a dress on me was that I not
only felt and acted girlish, I also felt younger. There was something
about the whole process of Mommie dressing me that made me feel like a
little girl. Maybe because she was so intently MOTHERING me. And that was
just fine with Mother, because she loved having her little girl.
Lately, though, the younger part seemed to be happening less. Lately, I
had been starting to feel, well, like most teenaged girls, who feel their
budding sexuality, who are in that exquisite yet awkward place between
girlhood and womanhood. Could a girlish boy feel like that as well?
Apparently so.
It had been MY idea to wear gel inserts in my bra, and to wear more makeup.
I wasn't exactly thinking about boys, but I was feeling sexy. So much so,
in fact, that I was beginning to feel a little constrained that my dressing
up was confined to just one day, and in private. This of course, was very
ironic, because the whole reason I had agreed to dress up in the first
place was because I had been embarrassed about being seen as sissyish in
public. And yet now, at fourteen, I found myself thinking about wearing
mascara during the day, or panties under my jeans, or even a training bra
under a sweater. I had even been daydreaming about asking Mother to get me
a padded panty girdle that I could wear under my jeans. Yes, when I saw
the girls in my class, with their newly-developing bodies, with behinds and
hips that were suddenly round and curvy, I felt a pang of jealousy. I
wanted to look like that too, to walk down the hallway in school clutching
my books to me chest, slightly swaying my round, sexy behind, having the
boys finding themselves watching me pass, in spite of themselves.
Mother seemed less than enthusiastic about my new feelings. I know it was
a crazy thought, but part of me wondered if she would view the Chrissie who
was a sexy young lady, vs. Chrissie who was the cute little girl, as
something of a threat. But a threat to what? To whom? No one would see
me but Mother and Janie! Maybe I was simply experiencing with Mother the
same thing that ALL teenaged girls go through - their moms don't want to
see them growing up.
Mother had the idea that giving me a bath (not telling me to take a bath,
but GIVING me a bath), was just what the doctor ordered to fix all of that!
I might be feeling grown up, but she was having none of that. She told me
that before Janie came over, she was going to give me a special treat. She
filled up the tub, and put lots of bubble bath and bath oils in it. I was
waiting for her to leave so I could get undressed and get in the tub, but
Mother had other ideas. She literally started undressing me! "Lift your
arms up," she said, and she lifted my shirt right over my head.
As I stood there, she unbuckled my belt buckle, unsnapped my pants,
unzipped my zipper, and my pants fell to the floor. I stepped out of them,
and was now standing there in just my underwear and socks. I was shocked,
but Mother simply pulled my underwear right down my legs! I was very
embarrassed!
I had already begun puberty, and was starting to mature. I think Mother
was a little surprised by what she saw. I think in her mind, she still
thought of me as a toddler! I stood there with my hands in front of my boy
part and said, "Mother!"
But she just said, "Oh, hush! I am your mother! I have seen it all
before! Now sit up on the edge of the tub so I can take your socks off."
Which I did.
It was then into the tub for me. Oh, my, the warm water and bubbles felt
so relaxing! I thought, now that Mother had the pleasure of undressing me,
she would leave the bathroom. But no. Mother took a soft washcloth and
started bathing me, over my back, under my armpits, and yes, around my boy
part! I was mortified, and VERY worried that I might get excited! Mother
said, "You know, Chrissie, we haven't really talked about this, but
personal hygiene is very important for a young lady. Mommie won't always
be there to help you, but I expect you to keep yourself VERY clean down
there. Do you understand?"
I said, "Yes, Mother," I understood, but my boy part did not understand.
All it knew was that the warm water, and the gentle scrubbing, not to
mention the proximity of this beautiful woman (even if she was my mother!)
felt incredibly good, and it responded accordingly. I tried to use the
bubbles to hide it, but to no avail. It was standing at full attention,
and the top was peeking out of the surface of the water. Mother giggled
but did not stop, and said, "Well, that makes it easier to clean!"
Mother was washing that part of me very thoroughly. She seemed to be doing
it in a very matter of fact manner, but I was growing increasingly aroused.
I was afraid I was going to have an accident. I started moaning, "Oh,
please Mommie, I think it is clean enough." Mother was acting as if she
were simply helping me to get clean, but her face betrayed her emotions.
She was clearly enjoying the combination of ecstasy and torture she was
inflicting upon me.
Finally, just before it would have been too late, she stopped. She then
put some fruity smelling shampoo in my hair, had me lean my head under the
tub faucet, washed my hair, and rinsed it under the faucet.
Mother was having so much fun treating me like her little girl. And it WAS
fun. I liked pretending to be Mommie's little girl, and have her take care
of me. When I got out of the bath, she wrapped me from just under my
armpits in a big fluffy towel, and put another one around my head like a
turban.
But when Janie came over, I couldn't resist wanting to feel more grown up
again, to put on my bra and my makeup. I could tell that Mother was
ambivalent, but I had been very cooperative in the bath, so she gave in.
The three of us spent the afternoon doing our makeup and hair and nails.
Mother even helped me to shave my legs and gave me a pedicure. I felt so
grown up!
We were having so much fun that we did not hear the SUV pull up with Dad
and the boys. They were not expected home until the next day.
My brothers actually did not seem very surprised to see me dressed from
head to toe like a young lady, including sporting makeup and what looked
like breasts. They just shook their heads and went up to their rooms.
But my father was shocked. Long before, he had put up with Mother dressing
me in a sissyish way. But when I was seven or eight, as it seemed to be
getting worse, he had been preparing to put a stop to it. He had been
relieved to see that it seemed to have stopped without him having
intervened. That had been five years earlier. He knew I was still a bit
of a Mama's boy, preferring to be with her than to play hockey with my four
brothers, but he never expected this. Now, the abrupt change in my
sissyish appearance five years earlier suddenly became apparent to him -
she had replaced dressing me as a sissy in public with dressing me
completely as a girl in private. He was furious. He forbid her to ever do
it again. Mother tried pleading with him, saying, "But Jim, this is what
he wants."
But he was unmoved. He said, "He wants this because you want it. And he
is a little sissy mama's boy who will do whatever his mother wants. That's
it. No more."
That was the last time I dressed like a girl. I went through a period of
mourning, where I really missed it, but then I just kind of buried that
part of me. And kept it buried, until that night that I had introduced
Emily to Mother.
And now here I was, standing in front of Mother and Emily, still feeling
the lipstick on my lips that Emily had put on, feeling once again like a
little girl, and wondering what would happen to me.
What happened next was this:
As we stood by the door, getting ready to leave, Mother invited us both to
come back that weekend. She said, "Emily, you simply must meet Chrissie's
Auntie Jane. Maybe the four of us can have a little makeup party. Oh
Chrissie, it's been so long. I'll bet you would love that, wouldn't you?"
I wasn't sure what I wanted. I was so confused. I was about to respond
when Emily cut in. She said, "That's a lovely offer Mrs. Rowan, but we'll
have to think about it. This has been quite an evening, and Chrissie and I
have a lot to digest."
I think Mother was even more surprised than I was to see Emily responding
for both me and her. It was clear that she felt that she had that
authority to do so.
But Mother still felt that I was hers, that I was a little girl, HER little
girl at heart, and she was not about to concede control that easily. So,
she said to Emily, "Of course, Dear, I understand," and kissed her goodbye
on both cheeks.
But when she approached me, it was quite a different kiss.
Just as she had done earlier in the week when I had first come over, Mother
kissed my fully on the lips. And just as she had done before, she lingered
just long enough for it to be inappropriate. It was almost as if a wolf
were marking her territory. "He is still mine," she seemed to be saying to
Emily.
But Mother underestimated Emily. It should not have surprised Mother (in
fact she should have been flattered) that I had chosen a girl just like
Mother, a beautiful, feminine, but dominant woman.
Emily was not about to take second place without a fight.
She grabbed me by the wrist pulled me to her, and said to Mother, "Oh, no,
that's not how he likes to be kissed. THIS is how he likes to be kissed."
And she kissed me deeply, passionately, her tongue exploring the recesses
of my mouth. I was literally melting in her arms. It seemed like forever,
but it was probably only ten seconds or so. When she finished, Emily
looked up at Mother and smiled like the cat who ate the canary. The
gauntlet had been thrown down by Mother with her kiss, and it had been
picked up by Emily. "Top that," she seemed to be saying.
Mother was red-faced, and speechless. It looked like Emily had won this
round.
Emily and I were both quiet in the car on the way home. She was driving,
as usual. I was not sure why she usually drove; it just seemed to work out
that way. As strange as the whole evening had been, that last episode had
been the strangest. I felt like two women, my mother and my girlfriend,
were staking their claim to me. Of course the bond I had with Mother was
deeper and had the history of a lifetime; but I knew I could not stay with
Mother forever. Could I?
Emily and I got ready for bed. I usually just slept in my briefs, but this
night Emily said, "Here Honey, why don't you try sleeping in this." and
she handed me one of her sexy little baby dolls.
I guess after everything she had seen and heard that night, it would have
been odd for me to be embarrassed about putting on her nightie, but still,
I was. I shyly got in bed next to Emily, and snuggled up next to her. My
head was on her chest, with my mouth right next to her breast. She was
stroking my hair. I felt safe and secure with her. And submissive.
Emily stroked my face. "Do you know what you want, Sweetie?"
I was so confused. I buried my head in her bosom and shook it no. She
continued. "That's ok, Chrissie, I understand. I'll take care of
everything, ok? I am going to ask you some questions, and you just nod
'Yes' or 'No.' Ok?"
I nodded 'Yes.'
"Do you want to stay my boyfriend?" She asked.
I nodded 'Yes.'
"Do you miss dressing up like the pretty fourteen year-old in the picture,
wearing makeup and dresses?"
I nodded 'Yes.'
"Would you like to try doing that again?"
I paused a moment, then nodded 'Yes.'
"If we could make you look that pretty again, would you like to go out with
me like that, two hot girls going to a club? We could dress all sexy,
mini-skirts and high heels, and lots of makeup. We could flirt with the
boys, and then I could take you home and make an honest woman out of you.
Would you like that?"
Another pause, and then I nodded 'Yes.' These questions were making me
hard, and I started squirming on the bed.
"Sometimes, even if we are not playing dress up, I may want you to be
wearing things that are a little more feminine. Are you going to let me do
that?"
Now I was getting very excited. I nodded 'Yes' right away.
"Ok, Baby," she said. "I'm going to take care of everything. We just have
a couple of ground rules, ok?"
At this point, Emily's hand had slipped under my nightie and up to my
middle. She found my boy part and was stroking it. 'Ground rules?' I
would have walked over hot coals for her at this point.
"I know you love your Mommie, and you have had a special relationship with
her. But I am not going to share you with her. You are mine, and mine
alone. Do you understand?"
I nodded 'Yes', as I pushed against her hand.
"I decide what you wear and when you wear it. Understand? Even if you are
embarrassed by what I decide you will wear, you will do it without
complaining."
I nodded 'Yes' again. Emily rubbed me vigorously for a moment, and I
shuddered and then collapsed against her.
Emily kissed me on my head and said, "That's a good girl. Tomorrow you
will call Mommie, and tell her that, well, you will tell her that you have
a new Mommie that is going to take care of you, ok? I know that will be
hard for you, but it is for the best, ok?"
I nodded one more time, and fell asleep.
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