Humiliated By Mommy Part 8 free porn video

Humiliated by Mommy by Naughtieboys [email protected] © Julian Smith and Em-bare-assed Press 1999-2001. Revised 2014. THIS STORY IS PURE FICTION (or unpure friction) FOR ADULTS ONLY. NO REAL CHILDREN WERE HARMED IN THE PRODUCTION OF THIS STORY. BY READING FURTHER, YOU ARE DECLARING THAT YOU ARE A CONSENTING ADULT. This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete and include the copyright notice. Archiving and reposting of this story UNMODIFIED is permitted provided that no fee is charged, either directly or indirectly (including so-called "adult checks") AND provided that this disclaimer and credit to the author are maintained. Humiliated by Mommy by Naughtieboys CHAPTER 8 While Visions of Panties Danced on His Head One day, mommy informs me that my old pal Linda is back in town, and at my mother's invitation, will be here soon. Mommy wants to know if I am thrilled to see Linda again. Thinking about her sends a shiver up my spine (and other places). Linda was my playmate starting in second grade. Most seven year old boys, don't have a girl as their buddy, but there were very few kids my age in the neighborhood, and besides, Linda wasn't your average girl. (Ok, there were some neighborhood boys, but they picked on me for being too sissy). We kept our buddy-status secret from the kids at school. In school, we each had our own friends, and pretty much ignored each other. After all, every grade school boy knew girls were yucky and if a boy hung out with one, he'd catch cooties. I had long hair, so I was already vulnerable to the taunts of my classmates for being a long-haired sissy. And with my skinny frame, I had two strikes against me. I didn't need to add cooties to the list. When we were seven, Linda would come over to play. She would insist on playing house, and even though I didn't want to, she used the sheer force of her personality to bully me into doing what she wanted to do. Even though the game varied from store to housecleaning to shopping, there was a consistent background theme. Linda would be the mommy and I would be her son. She would be very bossy and I'd obey. If I was disobedient (or even if I was well behaved), at some point during the game, she'd get angry and scold me mercilessly. I'd feel funny in my pee-pee when she berated me with the most scathing reprimands. She'd threaten to spank me, which always made my heart race with fearful terror and excited anticipation. For a long time, those threats were empty, and after a year of "I'm going to spank you", the thrill was gone. It just didn't get my heart (and cock) going the way it did the first hundred times, because I knew it wasn't really going to happen. When we were about eight, Linda once again told me I was asking for a spanking. I smart-Alecky replied, "I'd ask but you are too chicken to do it." That was all the coaxing she needed. She bent me over a table and slapped my jeans-covered rump. It didn't take long for her to realize jeans provide a lot of protection, so, despite my protests, she pulled down my jeans, yanked me over her lap, and hand-spanked my wriggling underpants covered bottom good. I had numerous adventures with Linda over the years. One summer morning when we were twelve years old, Linda knocks on the front door. I was still resting in bed, enjoying a hot, lazy day with school months away. I didn't hear the visitor's knock. Mom must have greeted my school chum and let her in. I had this weird rule that I didn't like anyone coming into my bedroom. I didn't have many friends over, but when they visited, I always played with them outside or in another part of the house. If they asked to see my room, I absolutely refused. Even though Linda was my closest friend, the rule applied to her, too. And, like all my other friends, the ban only increased their curiosity about what lay behind the closed door. Eventually, they all gave up asking and granted me my privacy. That lazy morning quickly transformed from day-dreamy relaxation to wide awake shock as Linda strolled into my sanctuary. Her incandescent grin revealed her pleasure in violating my space. I white-knuckle clutched the covers over my chin, not so much to protect my modesty in my half- naked state, but as a last stand of defense against the crumbling walls of my psychological fortress. My deepest, darkest hidden self felt exposed to my teenage pal. I noticed Linda was carrying a TV tray with breakfast on it. My mother must have asked her to bring it in - a strange request. I never got served breakfast in bed. (In fact, I occasionally acted as mommy's butler - really more like her maid- and brought her breakfast in bed). Linda was wearing a light summer dress, more girly than her usual attire. My eyes locked onto her tanned thighs as the dress breezily swayed as she made her way across my room towards my bed. Great athletes sometimes see plays unfold in slow motion - a kind of heightened, altered state of consciousness. Somehow, this was a key moment in my life, and I was in a hyperaware state. I was able to drink in the loveliness of her dress as it floated up in slow-mo to reveal more and more of her luscious thighs, and just as she reached the bed, the ascent peaked and I was able to glimpse the tiny loop decorations of the delicate, stitching of the bottom of her panties. I was snuggly tucked into a pair of tightie-whitey briefs, but my prick rocketed against the confines of the cotton and surged against the tight elastic waistband. The fear in my eyes met the teasing confidence of Linda's penetrating gaze. My whole body convulsively shook in terror. Linda finally spoke, "Oh you poor baby, are you cold? You can't be cold, it's 100 degrees." "I'm-m-m n-n-not cold," I stuttered. "Well if you're not cold, then let's take these blankies off." After setting down the tray of food on my night stand, one by one Linda pried my fingers loose from the sheet I had a death grip on. My fear eroded my strength to maintain the hold on the blankets. I was unable to will my fingers to regrip the covers, so each finger she pried off, remained off. Soon she slowly, sensuously peeled down the covers to expose my chest, stomach, and then underpants. Linda's empress eyes stared right at the bulging outline of my engorged dick in my snow white, fruit of the loom briefs. Even though we were the same age, I felt like a toddler and she my no-nonsense governess. But, simultaneously, I felt: here was a sexy girl - my own age - striping away the layers of my protection; entering my private domain, exposing my shy body, and laying my soul bare. I was embarrassed beyond shame. And, speak of the demoness, in walks mommy. Linda quickly placed the breakfast tray over my midsection, preserving my hardon from mother's view. I suddenly feel Linda's my ally as we unite against the unfathomable forces of the dark queen. Mommy is dressed in black bra; matching panties; garter belt; patterned very sheer, black stockings; and 6" stiletto heels. She's stepping into a black cocktail dress that is low cut and very mini. "Oh, how sweet," mommy bubbles, "you're feeding widdle Justie breakfast." Linda runs with the infantile game and scoops up a spoonful of cereal. "Open wide for yum-yums." Linda stealthily snakes her left hand under the tray and tickles the front of my undies. I gasp, but Mr. Happy stretches, and pokes his head out the top of my briefs. Linda lightly scratches my cockhead with her fingernail. My eyes roll to the top of my head as my youthful body has never experienced such raw pleasure. With each maddingly teasing scratch, my hips jerk, my heart pounds, and my breathing accelerates. Mommy, a keen student of human nature (especially when it comes to teasing) can't be oblivious to all this, but continues on as if it's just an ordinary morning in a day in the life. "Mommy has a photo shoot. I'll be gone all day. Linda will take care of you." Mommy then leans over to kiss me good-bye. I am enveloped in her perfumy aura. Mommy twists her head away from me to speak directly to Linda. As she does her nipple teasingly brushes against my lips. At the same time, Linda has ceased the scratchy game down under, and rolls her index finger tip around my cock. "Linda," mommy says, "Being a girl, you're much more mature than Justie, so I'm counting on you to take care of my widdle boy. He's usually an angel, but if he's naughty, he knows what will happen when mommy gets home. And, if it's not too much trouble, you don't have to wait to teach Justie to always be mommy's special, well-behaved, good boy. Do you think you'd be able to take on that responsibility, Linda?" "Yes, Mrs. Johnson," Linda proudly exclaims, "I'm sure if Justie is a bad boy I can think of some way to spank some sense back into him." Mommy is more than satisfied and regally exits, leaving Linda in charge. Linda removes the tray and gently sets it on my bedside table. My penis is throbbing and aching for more of her touch. She ignores the unspoken request and reaches for a cup of tea from the tray. Very carefully my sexy playmate positions the hot tea toward me. It is steaming hot and as she approaches my lips, I let her know it is too hot for me. "Oooooo, poor baby wants mommy to cool the tea?" Linda lifts the cup off the saucer and gently pours the steaming tea into the saucer. As she does so, she lowers her body to lean onto me. She fills the saucer to full capacity and sensuously blows on the scorching liquid to cool it. She has lowered the saucer to just above my belly, so I can watch her blowing create ripples across the surface of the tea. Linda continues blowing for a long time. She has her body now firmly pressed against mine, essentially holding me a captive audience. I'm sure the tea has cooled off, but she continues to blow. She takes a huge breath inward then puffs out a strong, fast exhale; splashing a little of the tea off the saucer and onto my belly. Linda smiles and looks at me, daring me to complain. I wisely remain still. She tips the saucer slowly to cascade the warm tea over my belly and downwards toward my briefs. Finally, she turns the saucer upside down and splashes the remaining beverage directly onto my underpants. "Whoopsie," she says. "Looks like someone wet himself." Again she is challenging me to oppose her. I refuse to take the bait. "Looks like I'll have to change the messy baby." Linda rises up and heads towards my chest of drawers. I panic. "No, it's OK, I'm not that wet." Linda ignores my plea and opens the top drawer. "I see just the thing," she says. She has something behind her back as she returns to my bedside. She swings her arm around to show me a pair of silky, pink panties. I want to die. The reason I don't want my friends in my room is so they won't find the little, femmy garments mommy buys me (or, more humiliating, the hand-me-downs from mommy). Linda lovingly places the girly-girl pink panties on top of my face, and slips her thumbnails into my sopping wet boy's briefs. She erotically tugs and jerks them down an inch or so, then commands me to lift up. I obediently elevate my hips, even though I'm aware I'm participating in my mortifying feminization. Linda proceeds to peel the last vestige of masculinity off my hips and down my legs. She picks up the silk panties and swirls them over my enflamed prick. She maneuvers her forearm underneath my ankles and slowly lifts her arm, raising my feet and legs, eventually over my head. I am now in a very exposed, vulnerable position, with my knees in my face and my butt up in the air - a very babyish pose. Linda makes goo-goo sounds to embarrass me even more. Then she takes the silky soft panties and teases my perineum, anus, and balls with the panties. She insists she'll stop the assault on my senses unless I suck my thumb. I don't move. She entangles the pretty panties around my cock and bounces my plumped organ up and down. Despite the embarrassment and indignity of it all, I am captivated by the intense waves of ecstasy emanating from my cock; and, at this point, would obey far more humiliating requests than a simple thumb-sucking. I plop my thumb into my mouth and suck away as Linda continues to work her magic across my erogenous zones. I feel an insanely strong build-up in my groin and suck my thumb in strong pulses to synchronize with the lower regions' sensations. Right before I crossed the point of no return, Linda untangles the panties from my erection and puts them through my feet, and rapidly pulls them all the way up. My enraged prick can't be confined in such a small garment. I was writhing around, trying to induce even a little friction to finish off what Linda had enflamed, but she was having none of that and shockingly slaps me across the face. She grabs my hand and pulls me up and out of bed and walks me and my boner into the kitchen where she supervises my hand washing the breakfast dishes. I didn't receive a spanking from her that day, but I didn't get any release either. About a year later, now junior high schoolers on summer break, we were bored sitting around wondering what to do. I enjoy the summer. What kid doesn't? But I especially like the hot weather, because it meant Linda would be wearing less clothing and I'd get glimpses of her body. I get so excited seeing her tanned skin exposed. I am blonde and fair skinned and am very attracted to her darker complexion and hair. She was my dream girl--olive skin that tanned a golden hue from the sun, and black hair that cascaded in wavy curls down to her shoulders. We never spoke of my attraction to her, but it was always in the air, especially when we reached our teen years. We are opposites in so many ways. I am a goody-goody, always well behaved. Linda likes to break the rules--to have fun and not give a damn about the consequences. I am shy and insecure. Linda is confident and bossy. We are sitting on Linda's porch. She is sitting on the banister, feet dangling, legs swaying under my sneaky gaze. I don't want to be caught staring, so I take quick peeks, trying to burn the image of her gorgeous tanned thighs in my brain, then quickly look away. She is wearing cut- offs, and they are way too cut off. Linda has cut a pair of jeans so that on each side her panties are just visible, and in back, the edges of her cute butt poke out of the shorts. Linda breaks the silence, "Last week I needed a favor from my mom, so she agreed to do it if I promised to grant her a golden dream." "A golden dream? What's that?" I curiously ask. "A golden dream is you do anything the person wants. It's like an IOU to be their slave," replies Linda. Boy this sends my mind reeling. Would I love to have Linda serving me in any way I wanted. But quickly that fantasy gives way to a much more compelling one--what if I was her slave? The mere thought causes a stirring in my pants. "So did you agree to it?" "Yeah, but I wish I hadn't. I wish she'd hurry up and cash it in, but instead she just holds it over my head," Linda said. That day was pretty uneventful, but the thought of the "golden dream" was planted in my psyche. About a week later, Linda's mother calls my mother. As single parents, they support each other. Linda's mom is going out of town and wants to know if Linda can stay over at our house. My mother happily agrees and it's all set. We had been sleeping over each other's houses since we were about nine, even though we were of the opposite gender. The two mothers still seemed to think of us as nine year olds, and it all seemed innocent enough. Besides, we slept in separate beds, and a parent was always home. The night of the sleepover, my mother retires early. She tells us to keep the noise down, and off to bed in half an hour. "And Linda, you stay in the guest room. You two are getting too old to be sleeping in the same room." "Oh mom," I complain, "Nothing's going to happen. We sleep in different beds. The fun of a sleepover is sleeping in the same room." "No, I talked this over with Mrs. Geiger, and we agreed you kids are too old to be sleeping in the same room." I am bitterly disappointed, and am prepared for another round of arguing, but Linda speaks up and agrees to the separate sleeping quarters. She even adds that she understands their concerns. Now this is not like Linda, so I know that she's up to something. After mom says good-night and makes her way up to her bedroom, I ask Linda what she has up her devious little sleeve. "What's the problem? The guest room is just down the hall from your room, your mom's upstairs at the other end of the house. I just sneak into your bed after we're sure she's asleep." "Good old Linda," I think. But did I hear her right? Did she say sneak into my room or sneak into my bed? I feel that tingling between my legs again. A good three hours later, we decided to turn in. Linda retires to the guest room and I go to my room. I can't wait for her to join me. I usually am quite modest and slept in pajamas when she sleeps over, but tonight is god-awful hot, and I'm feeling just a little bit naughty. So I shed my shirt and slip down my pants and hop into bed in just my underpants. I have this fetish about underpants. I insist my mom not buy a larger size, so I still wear the size 8 Fruit of the Looms that I'd worn since I was a child. I love the tightness of the small undies. They cling to my ass and prick, keeping me in a highly aroused state. Linda usually wears a long night-gown to bed when she sleeps over. It is flannel, and I love the soft feel of it. (I "accidentally" brush up against her when she wears it). We stayed up later than I'm used to, so by the time Linda creeps in, I am half-asleep. Funny how I wake up so quickly when I see her. She's wearing a shorty babydoll nightie. It's white and silky and reveals most of Linda's beautiful body. She also has a pair of matching panties, which are in plain sight, seeing as the nightie comes down to just the top of her panties. The white of the clothing contrasts with the darkness of her tanned skin, giving me an instant hardon. "Here I am," Linda sings out as she spins around to display all her charms. "How do you like it?" Her eye-brows jump up and down as she asks the question. She already knows the answer, but she's enjoying turning me into a tongue tied twit. I am speechless, and I don't want to let on how truly devastated I am by her lusty display. The tip of my penis fights its way out of the front of my snug underpants. Thank god I am under the blankets. Linda gets into the other twin bed and starts to chat away. I am disappointed she doesn't join me in my bed, and that she closes down the peep show so fast. I am just starting to enjoy the view after the initial shock. Then I notice that Linda puts both arms under the covers and is doing something under there. She pulls out one arm and reaches towards me. The beds are arms-length apart, so she's able to place her hand right under my nose. And there, in her hand, right at eye level is Linda's panties. She dangles them teasingly just above my head. Then puts them on her index finger and spins them around. Each rotation coming closer and closer to my face. "You like my panties Justie? Aren't they the cutest teeny-weeny pair of scanties you've ever seen?" Linda speaks in a sing-songy voice that she knows drives me wild. She grips the panties between her thumb and forefinger and dances the panties so that they brush against my face. The material is so slick and silky. I feel my heart race in my chest. My penis strains against the confines of my underpants. As if struck by lightning I get a flash of insight and reach out and snatch the panties from Linda. "Oh, so you do like my little girlie panties, don't you Justie?" She teases me, "I would of given them to you if you'd just asked." "I don't want your silly underwear," I lie, "But I don't want you to have them either." "Naughty boy, what daya mean? I know you like my pretty panties, but give 'em back. I'm getting chilly being half naked." "Tell you what, Linda ... You want them ... You get them." And as I say it, I fling the silky wisp of nylon across the room. They rotate through the air, before parachuting down to land on a lamp. We both stare at the panties hanging from the tall lamp. "Justin Johnson, you march right over to that lamp and fetch my panties." "No," I reply. It was unusual for me to stand up to her, but my libido over-rules my habitual passivity, and compels me to take advantage of the situation. "Fine, I'll get them, but you've got to do something in return for me." "What?" I ask. "You agree?" "To what?" "To do what I want if I get up and give you a good look. I'll even turn the lamp on after I remove my panties from it." Linda offered. I had been tricked too many times by Linda and wanted to make sure this time I wasn't made a fool of again. "You'll turn the light on before you put your panties back on?" Linda grinned, "You're too smart for me this time. Yes, I'll turn on the light *before* I put my panties on. But you'll grant me a golden dream in return?" By this point I would agree to anything. I wanted to see her 'nekid'. "I agree, I'll grant you a golden dream." We shake hands and Linda tosses off the covers. This is the moment I had waited so long for. I am just about ready to come in my underpants. But even before she flipped on the light, I saw. "So ... how do you like them, Justie. Do you like these pink panties I'm wearing now, or the white ones I had on before? Hmmmm?" Linda had done it again. She must have been wearing the pink panties under the white ones. I feel so foolish. Normally, I'd love to see Linda scurry across the room in her panties, but this is a let down. I was anticipating seeing all. I'm unable to enjoy the panty-clad Linda as she retrieves the white panties, turns on the light, and teasingly pulls the white panties up her legs and over the pink panties. She lets out a loud laugh and dives back in bed. "What's going on in there?" Oh no. My mother. The door flies open and in walks my mother. She looks over at Linda and then stares at me. "What did I tell you young man? What did I say about you two sleeping in separate rooms?" "Ah mom ..." "Don't you 'ah mom' me. You deliberately disobeyed me, didn't you?" "Yes, mommy," I meekly reply. Linda thought--what's this "yes mommy" crap? My mother becomes more stern as my manner becomes more docile. "Don't think that just because your little playmate is over that I won't punish you. Is that what you think young man? That because your friend is over that mommy will let you get away with being naughty?" "No mommy," I answer. She marches over to my bed and pulls back the covers. "Roll over you bad boy," she commands. I slowly roll over onto my tummy. My tight underpants cling to my cupcake buns. My mother stands over the bed and spanks my upturned butt with her hand. The sound of the slaps are interspersed with my pleads for mercy. "I'm sorry, mommy. I'll be a good boy." My mother taunts me, "Don't you feel foolish, a grown-up boy getting a spanking from his mommy, while his best friend watches?" "Yes mommy." "Apologize to Linda. Poor Linda shouldn't have to be subjected to seeing you like this. Tell her how sorry you are to put her through this ordeal." Poor Linda? She has to put up with it? I'm the one being humiliated. I'm the one getting the spanking. But I know better than to disobey. "I'm sorry Linda that you have to see this." "Since I can't trust you to follow my instructions," my mother sternly tells me, "I'll just have to make sure you don't get into any mischief." She storms out of the room and a minute later returns carrying some pantyhose. She orders me to turn over and ties my wrists and ankles to the four bedposts with her pantyhose. "Now it doesn't matter if Linda stays with you or not, because you can't do anything naughty while you're all tied up like that. Now sleep tight dear, and if I hear one more peep out of you, you'll get a bare bottom spanking, and I don't care who's watching." My mother walks out, leaving me gazing at Linda, who has an evil grin across her face. Linda breaks the excruciating silence, "You never told me *mommy* still spanks you. That must be so embarrassing for you to be a teenager and have *mommy* spank you." Linda crawls over onto my bed and seductively places her right leg over my restrained legs. She flexes and bends her leg up and down, so that it travels over my legs, up against my underpants, over my bare stomach, and then back down again. My heart races. I find this so exciting. I want to entangle our bodies but the pantyhose bondage keeps me the passive victim of her teasing. "And you were so *naughty* to subject me to seeing that. How awful for me. I have a good mind to punish you myself." Linda leaves. She is gone a long time and I wonder if she decided to spend the night in the guest room. I doze off. I dream that I pee in the bed and in the morning mommy and Linda find me all soaking wet. Mommy is very cross and pulls down my yellow-stained underwear. She then diapers me in front of Linda. I awake with the oddest sensation. I look up and there is Linda squirting baby oil all over my thighs and briefs. She then reaches down and rubs the slippery liquid all over my legs, stomach, and briefs. I can't believe she's doing this, and wonder if I'm still dreaming. Linda puts her hand inside my briefs and quickly massages my dick with her baby-oiled fingers. After a few strokes, I shoot multiple jets high into the air. The semen splats down on my stomach and Linda once again abandons me. I am hyperventilating from the sexual release. As I calm down, it hits me that my mother is going to discover me like this in the morning. I call for Linda in a loud whisper. For once, Linda comes to my rescue. She cleans up some of the cum with a tissue. I beg her to get me clean briefs. After I promise to lie still, she unties the pantyhose. She slips down my gooey briefs and brings it into the bathroom. I hear the water running. She comes back with a dripping wet washcloth. She splashes the soaked towel down on my cock and testicles and I almost go through the roof. She uses extremely cold water and my equipment rapidly shrinks from the coolness. Without drying me off, she pulls out the tiniest pair of polka-dot panties and quickly works them up my legs. She crams my shrunken penis and balls into the sexy garment. I can't believe I fit in the miniscule undies. Linda then rebinds me. Before exiting for the evening, Linda leans over and wafts the gauzy material of her babydoll over my thighs and panties. This creates the desired effect as my cock springs to life. But imprisoned in the microscopic undies, I feel a rush of simultaneous pain and pleasure. Laughing, Linda leaves me to my predicament. I try and think myself down, for not only is it painful, but I sure don't want my mother to discover my condition. It's going to be bad enough she'll find me in the diminutive silk covering, I don't want the double humiliation of having my prick protruding against the fabric. Understandably, I get very little sleep. My mother enters and looks surprised at my change of underclothes. "My my," she comments. "We are quite the Houdini. There's no way mommy can keep her little boy away from panties." With that, she unties me. As I run past her to charge for the bathroom (I've never had to pee so urgently in my life). She takes the opportunity to land a solid wallop on my polka-dot pantied behind.