Paraded In Panties (Part Two) free porn video

Frankie was stunned. He sat on the edge of his mother's bed and felt the coolness of the satin coverlet on his smooth shaved legs. He gazed mournfully at his hands with their pink polished nails and stared again almost in disbelief at the lace covered panties he was wearing. He glanced up at the mirror above the dresser and caught sight of his head covered in large pink curlers rolling up his long brown hair. His gaze drifted down to the bra he was wearing, the matching complement in white lace and lavender ribbon to the panties he wore. He told himself it was only going to be this one time, a one-time punishment for being caught dressed in his mother's and his sister's clothes. But somehow, in the pit of his stomach, the thought gnawed at him that his mother intended this to be the beginning and not the end. Lisa looked down at her son and was well pleased by what she saw. Even she was surprised at how little resistance she had met as she pushed him further and further into femininity. Of course she had the upper hand, after all she had caught him wearing a skirt, high heels and nylons, too. And she had gotten him to confess that he had worn her clothes and his sisters, not just that time he was caught, but several times before. She was hardly surprised. Both Lisa and her daughter had their suspicions. But catching him the act seemed to be all the leverage she needed. And then, to top it all off, she knew too that dressing in women's clothes, and especially in lingerie, excited him to the point of shuddering spurts of cum in his panties. And, she thought wryly to herself, it thrilled her. She picked up a garter belt and stepped in front of him. "Now darling, you've never worn a garter belt before," Lisa stated. Hmmm, let me see. Oh, yes, you were wearing stockings when I found you all dressed up. But you weren't wearing a garter belt were you?" Frankie looked up at her and shook his head. "Well, then, sweetie, how in the world did you hold up your stockings, or should I say my stockings?" "I ... I ... wore ... was wearing ... a girdle." "You mean to tell me that you were wearing one of my girdles?" Lisa asked with an edge in her voice. He nodded. "I ... I told you that before mother and I'm sorry...' His voice trailed off. "Oh yes, you did tell me that. And what did you tell me earlier, that you had gotten dressed ten or twelve times before? Hmm, is that it? And you wore stockings and a girdle every time?" "Oh no," he said earnestly, "that was only a few times." "So in addition to the dozen or more times you got dressed, several times you put on stockings and a girdle." Lisa was enjoying this interrogation and moreover she was determined to know just how long he had been dressing on the sly. It was at least as long as his sister Lindsey had been away to school and she suspected much longer. "So this has been going on for months then?" He looked up at her and nodded. "Not just few times then, and not just several times, and not just a dozen times. You went behind my back and got into my clothes-- and your sister's clothes--for months. How many times? Once or twice a month? Oh no. That couldn't be. You already admitted it was more than a dozen times. So really, what was it over the course of months, fifteen, twenty, thirty times?" Frankie hung his head and barely nodded his assent. He knew but could not admit to her that for weeks he had been dressing up almost every day when she was at work. And he had done it on and off for years, and especially when he knew he would be alone in the house. "Well then, it seems to me that for a month of days, you'll make up for being a little sneak. Instead of doing this behind my back, I'm going to watch you get all dressed from head to toe. In your own clothes. Not mine. Not Lindsey's. And I'm going to tell you what to wear and when. Have I made myself clear?" Frankie looked up at her and tears welled in his eyes. A month, he thought, a whole month of dressing up. This really was just the beginning. Lisa turned away from him quickly to hide her triumphant smile and glowed with satisfaction. She snatched a tissue from atop her dresser and wheeled around. "Now, take this and dry your eyes. I'm not finished with you yet. But when I'm done, I promise you that you'll be just the prettiest thing. You be the girl with the prettiest clothes. Now stand up." Frankie stood up and Lisa wrapped the garter belt around his waist. She quickly fastened it and tugged it down in line with the top of the panties he was wearing. She lifted the single row of lace on the garter belt and threaded a dangling garter through the waist band and out the leg opening of his panties. "Now," she commanded. "I'll watch while you finish." Frankie did as he was told and gingerly threaded the remaining garters through his panties. When he finished Lisa adjusted the layers of lace and squared the garter belt to hide the clasp under the lavender bow on the waist-band of the panties. Two long ribbons trailed down from the bow, over the three rows of white lace and dangled over his panty covered behind. "Oh," exclaimed Lisa. "Your panties are just adorable. Valerie, I mean Ms. Paine, was right, the layers of lace and the ribbons are perfect. Look in the mirror. Turn around and look." Frankie looked at himself in the mirror as Lisa smiled over his shoulder. His waist and his smooth round behind was circled with layers of lace that nearly hid the silky white fabric of the panties. The bow at the back and its trailing ribbons made it look as though the lace confection had been tied in place. His glance shifted to the bra he was wearing and the unmistakable profile he saw was that of a young woman. "Sweetie, let's get your stockings on now and I've got a darling pair of heels for you. You're lucky we wear the same size honey. Shoes just cost a fortune." Lisa gently unfolded a pair of stockings from the slim box on her bed and handed him one with an admonishment not to run them. He knew what to do and because he had done it himself many time before, he deftly rolled the welt at the top down the length of stocking. Gingerly he pointed his toes and slipped on the stocking and carefully rolled it up his smooth leg. He put on the hosiery so readily that it brought a smile to Lisa's face. In a moment she had him on his feet and was attaching and adjusting the garter tabs. The process was repeated on the other leg before Frankie sank back on the bed to put on the heels his mother brought to him. "Don't new nylons feel wonderful when you have nice shaved legs?" she asked as she helped him put on the high heels. "And you put them on just the right way too. Now where did you learn to do that?" For Frankie the sensation of wearing nylons on his shaved legs was hugely thrilling and he was caught off-guard by his mother's question. "Well, he said, I watched you do it many times and I've done it myself many times, so ..." His voice failed him as he realized he had admitted his guilt again. "That certainly explains some of the runs I've found in my hose," Lisa said as she buckled the ankle strap on one heel. "Now go ahead and put on your other shoe." Frankie crossed his legs, slipped the shoe over his stocking covered foot, tugged the ankle strap through the clasp and settled his foot in the shoe. Lisa reached out to draw him to his feet, thinking she needed to steady him. Instead Frankie lightly touched her outstretched hand, stood and took two sure steps across the bedroom floor. Lisa's eyebrow arched in surprise and she wondered how well he could walk in the three-inch heels. "Walk around, darling, I want to get a good look at you now that you have on your complete ensemble." Frankie nodded and took a few steps around the bedroom. "Sweetheart you walk so well in heels, either you've had a lot of practice, or you're just the kind of girl who should always wear high heels," Lisa said with a wicked smile. Frankie, dropped his head and wrapped his arms around his chest. "Nice legs, too. Boys like seeing a lot of leg. And they love seeing a flah of panties, too. Skirts and heels are a must for you honey. Stand up straight. Straight! That's better. Now come with me, we have more to do to so you can just be the prettiest girl." Frankie blushed furiously and turned away from dresser mirror but not, Lisa noticed, before he took a glance over his shoulder. Well, well, Lisa, said to herself, so he wants to see what he looks like. How nice, but not quite yet she thought. Frankie followed her to the vanity and after being carefully instructed to put his knees together and sit down daintily, he eased into the small chair. "Now, pay attention honey. You're going to have to learn to put on make- up if you want to be a pretty girl." Lisa started with a skin cleanser and admonished him to make sure he cleaned his face before and after he put-on make-up. Satisfied, Lisa stepped close to him and began to gently shape his brows. Frankie knew this was one part of putting in make-up that he could not wash-off. "Mother, do we have to do that, I mean, tweeze my eyebrows," he asked plaintively. "I mean; won't it be obvious." "Obvious. Obvious," Lisa snapped. "Obvious what?" "That I've had my eyebrows shaped. I mean that everybody will notice." "That everybody will notice you've had your eyebrows shaped to flatter your face." "No, no, it's just that, won't it make me look more feminine..." he swallowed hard as the last word left his mouth. "I don't want everybody to think I look feminine." Ahh, Lisa thought, the first sign of resistance had come from him at last. Well, she said to herself, it's time to nip this in the bud. She stopped and placed the tweasers on the counter top. "Stand up," she barked. Frankie, startled, quickly stood up facing her. "Now she said," her voice rising, "I want you to parade your panty- covered ass right on down that hallway. And go stand in front of the mirror." His heels clicked on the wood floor as he walked down the hall the few feet towards the full-length mirror on the closet door. The ribbons trailing from the bow on the back of his panties danced over the layers of lace that covered his rounded behind. Lisa trailed behind him and she realized that he had more than enough practice walking in high heels. Suspicion confirmed, she told herself. What she had seen that day she caught him dressed was certainly not the first time he had worn heels. He stopped in front of the mirror. "Now," Lisa said sternly, "Look down at your feet and tell me what you're wearing." "What ..." "Do it now," she commanded in a hard voice. "Tell me what you're wearing." Frankie dropped his gaze down to his feet and looked up at her. "I'm wearing high heels." "And what else?" she demanded. "And stockings." "Tell me what you're wearing." "P... p... panties," he said softly. "I'm wearing panties. And a garter belt and a bra." "That's right, " she said with a sneer in her voice. "You're wearing panties, very pretty panties, too. The most girly, most feminine panties ever. And you're wearing a garter belt and a bra too. And what's that in your hair." "Curlers," he said softly. "I have curlers in my hair." Lisa reached around him and played with the layers of lace that covered the front of the panties he was wearing. As she toyed with the lace with her fingertips, she felt his cock stiffening. How revealing she thought to herself. "So you're wearing high heels and stockings. You're wearing a garter belt and panties. You have on a bra, your hair is all done up in curlers, and you're about to put on make-up. And you're worried about looking too feminine. Oh, please." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Now you just go sit back down and I'll be the one to decide how feminine you'll look. I don't want to hear another word out of you." Frankie retraced his steps down the hall to the vanity and sank back down in the chair with a look of misery on his face. Lisa felt the anger leave her and then the wave of exhilaration as she realized she had cowed him into submission. She wasted no time in cleaning up the few loose hairs in his eyebrows and plucked just a few more to open the area above his eyelid. She had him apply a creamy foundation and made a note to buy something with just a bit rosier hue. Then she instructed him on the finer points of applying face powder to set the foundation. Then she began to do his eye make-up. She did one eye and explained every step from using three colors of eye shadow, to the use of eyeliner and mascara. When she had finished she watched and coached him as he made-up his other eye. "Go ahead and stand-up if you want to, honey," Lisa said gently. "It's easier to see if you are closer to the mirror." Frankie rose lightly from the little chair and leaned over the counter to incline his face toward the mirror. Lisa stepped aside to watch attentively and noted with satisfaction how cute he looked from behind, standing there in ribbons, bows, and lace, in sheer stockings and heels. It thrilled her to see him open his mouth as he applied mascara to his lashes -- it was such a feminine pose--so she told him to apply more. "Put on some more mascara on your other eye, sweetie. You can put on a couple applications. Just let it dry a bit between coats. You want to have nice, long, long lashes. We'll get you some false eyelashes when you are really going to get dressed up." When he was finished Lisa applied both blush and bronzer and finished it all with a light dust of face powder. She used a soft brown pencil to outline his lips and then handed him lipstick. "I think you know how to put on your own lipstick, don't you darling?" Lisa asked. "You were putting on lipstick, weren't you, when I came home and caught you playing dress-up?" Frankie nodded and with a trembling hand reached for the lipstick she held out. He uncapped the tube and rolled out the tip and gently applied it to his lips. "That's it darling, just open your lips and put on your lipstick," Lisa urged him. "Just do your lower lip and then across the upper lip. Oh, you do know how to put on lipstick. Now isn't that feminine!" Frankie blushed beneath his make-up and as he looked into the mirror he felt himself thrilling to the sight of his painted lips. His eyes took in his fully made-up face and his gaze drifted down to the lace covered bra he wore. Lisa watched his expression carefully and whispered in his ear. "Too bad this mirror isn't long enough for you to see just how pretty you are form head to toe, sweetie," she cooed. "So why don't you go look at yourself in the big mirror." Lisa took him by the hand and led him back down the hallway. "Now look at you," she said sweetly. "You're wearing eye shadow and eyeliner. And your lashes are nice and long with mascara. Oh and you have the nicest blushing rouge. And you put on some lipstick too I see. Now don't you look feminine." Frankie trembled at the sight of his reflection in the mirror. This couldn't be happening he told himself. He dropped his gaze to the floor and slowly shook his head. "Mother, please. I . . . I, can't do this..." his voice trailed off. "Can't to what sweetie?" Lisa asked coyly. "I, well, I . . . I can't be dressed like this. Really..." "Oh," Lisa said with a smirk on her face as she towered over him. "You don't think you should be walking around dressed in a bra and panties, stockings and high heels. Is that it?" Frankie look up at himself in the mirror again and nodded silently. "Well," Lisa said slowly. "I quite agree. It's not right for a boy to go around wearing a bra and panties. High heels and stockings and a garter belt too. And with your make-up done and still with curlers in your hair. You're right, a boy can't go around looking like this." Frankie sighed heavily in relief and a small smile crept unto his face. At last, he thought, this was finally going to be over. He nodded again and turned to look up at her with relief in his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "So," she said as she held his eyes in her steady gaze. "Then we have come to an agreement. You won't be walking around in a bra and panties, prancing around in high heels with your hair up in curlers, will you?" "No mother," Frankie quickly agreed. "Good," she said. "Now just go back in my bedroom and I'll make it all better for you darling." Lisa watched him turn away from the mirror and walk with practiced steps the few feet to her room. She found herself admiring, once again, the pretty panties he wore and thought to herself that the layers of lace and the trailing ribbons were just darling. So very cute and oh so, feminine. And all this from a boy who was afraid to look too feminine. Oh yes, Lisa, thought, but not yet feminine enough. Lisa watched him step into her room and made up her mind. She walked into her daughter Lindsey's room found the clothes she wanted. Then she retraced her steps with an excitement she could feel warming her through and through as she strode back into the bedroom. A pink cashmere sweater and a white pleated skirt were draped over her arm. "I am so glad that we agreed you shouldn't be parading around this house in a bra and panties, dear," she announced. "Or for that matter in a garter belt, stockings, bra and panties. So for now, you won't have to worry your pretty little curler covered head about it. You can put these clothes on over your pretty panties and your bra and your garter belt honey." With that Lisa gently unfolded the sweater and skirt from her arm and laid them out the on the satin bed cover. Frankie stared at her open mouthed. Whatever words he tried to form never escaped his lips. "What's the matter, darling?" she asked with an edge to her voice as she watched him back away from the clothes she had laid out. "Isn't this that little white pleated skirt you were wearing when I caught you dressed up. And this is the sweater you were wearing isn't it? Well you picked out this outfit before, so you obviously liked it. And we just agreed that you shouldn't be parading around the house in just a bra and panties. So. . . get dressed." Frankie shuddered visibly as he realized with finality that his mother intended to force him to wear the very same clothes he was wearing when she surprised him. And now, she would be watching his every move. She had made him walk around in the bra and panties and in heels and hose. She put make-up on him. She knew everything and now she wanted to see him put on a skirt. And he was so excited that his aching cock was tenting the front of the panties he wore. Frankie snatched at the skirt on the bed and quickly pulled it to his waist, hoping to hide his erection. "Ohhh, sweetie," Lisa cooed. "Let's get your sweater on first. Here. I'll help you to make sure we don't mess your make-up. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Lisa slipped her hands inside the soft pink cashmere sweater and widened the neck bank to slip it over his head and then gently guided his arms through the three-quarter length sleeves. She eased the knitted waistband down over his padded bra and settled it in place, but not before running her fingertips across the swollen cock tenting his panties. "Oh, that's so much better, honey," Lisa said. "And look how the sweater shows off your chest." She turned him back towards the mirror over her dresser and let him see his profile. Then she stepped back and admired the laced trimmed garter belt and panties peeking of from below the clinging sweater he wore. "Now let's get this skirt on you. You'll have to be very careful with your heels dear. From now on you'll have to put your heels on last. Hmm, maybe we should get you a nice pair of mules to wear when you're getting dressed. How would you like that?" Lisa held open the waist of the skirt and let Frankie put a hand on her shoulder to steady himself as he cautiously stepped into the skirt. She slipped the skirt up to his narrow waist and tugged up the zipper before finally hiking the skirt higher above his hips. Then with both hands she gently arranged the soft sweater to hide the wide waistband of the skirt. She stepped back to get a good look at him and smiled happily. "Oh you look just darling," she said. "This skirt is just perfect for you and you have such nice legs to show off too. Come on, let's go see what you look like all dressed up." With that she beckoned to him and paraded him down to stand in front of the mirror at the end of the hallway. "Now you can see for yourself," Lisa said smugly as she stood behind him. "You're a lovely girl and it's so much fun to play dress up now isn't it?" Lisa ran her hand over the front of his skirt and toyed with his rigid cock. "And you do so love dressing up don't you honey? So tell me the truth, don't you think you look pretty? Don't you think you look nice in your high heels and stockings? Hmm? Don't you look nice in your skirt and this pretty sweater?" Lisa reached around him and gently cupped his padded bra in her hands. "Oh and look at your make-up. For a boy, don't you think you look pretty with your eye-make-up and your lipstick on? You're so pretty, you should have been a girl. Isn't that right?" Frankie stared at his reflection in the mirror, dry-mouthed and silent. He nodded almost imperceptibly and his eyes drifted up from looking at his own reflection in the mirror to meet her steady gaze. He tried to speak, he wanted to deny it all, but the image of the girl in the mirror would have made that a lie. "Oh yes. And isn't it fun to wear pretty panties? I know you just love wearing pretty panties. Go ahead honey, lift up your skirt and take a good look at your pretty panties. Go on," she said quietly. With that she reached around him and guided his hands to the hem of the soft chiffon skirt. Frankie felt numb, but he found himself slowly raising the hem of the skirt first to reveal the tops of his stockings and then to expose the garter straps tugged tight over his thighs. He inched his skirt higher still until his white panties were in clear view, a froth of silky fabric and lace and ribbon exposed in the mirror. "Well I don't think there's any denying it sweetie," Lisa crooned into his ear. "You are so very pretty when you're all dressed up. Any mommy's going to help her pretty boy be just the prettiest girl. And we're going to have so much fun playing dress up. Because you're mommy's sissy." Frankie trembled at the thought and his aching cock strained against the silky fabric of his lace covered panties. Lisa reached around him, slid her fingertips across the front of the tenting panties and felt the first warm drops of precum soaking though the fabric. Her fingers slowly drifted up to the hem of his skirt and she gently uncurled his fingertips and let the skirt fall back in place. She smiled at his obvious consternation and pointed an accusing finger at the mirror. "But there's something else here now isn't there?" Frankie's mind reeled. A look of embarrassment and anguish crossed over his face. Oh he thought to himself, she couldn't, she just wouldn't ask him why he was so aroused. He shuddered at the thought. "Oh yes, I know," Lisa said as she whispered in his ear. "My pretty girl is so excited because she knows that . . . " Lisa paused. "Mommy is going to . . ." she paused again. ". . . take all these rollers out of her hair and give her a pretty boy a new hair do!" Lisa let out a small laugh as Frankie opened his mouth in astonishment. "Come on now, let's finish your hair." With that Lisa led the boy in his skirt, high heels, hose and make-up back into the bath and promptly seated him once more at the vanity. With sure hands she showed him how to gently unwind his hair from the curlers and with that accomplished she began teasing out his hair. She worked in silence for some minutes before stopping for a moment. "It's soo much fun getting all dressed up isn't it? Oh, I can understand why you enjoy it so much. After all, what girl doesn't want to look pretty? With pretty panties, garter belts, stockings, high heels and skirts and make-up. You know you really should have come to me and asked me to help you get dressed, sooner, dear. It would have been so much more fun, that way. Were you afraid I would say no? Is that why you were dressing up when no one was around?" she asked with obvious sarcasm in her voice. "When no one could see you? "Well that's no fun is it? Is it?" Frankie hardly knew what to say as she stopped styling his hair and paused to look at him. The moment lasted an eternity for Frankie and then Lisa answered the question that hung in the air. "Of course it's no fun. It's going to be so much more fun now. You can get all dressed up and I can see how pretty you look. And now you have lots of bras and panties to wear every day. And you have very pretty panties, garter belts, stockings and bras for all those really special dress up days. Have you thought about what kinds of outfits you want to wear when you dress up?" Lisa lapsed into silence again, waiting for her words to sink in. Frankie sat mutely and finally answered in a small voice. "Well, no I really never thought about it ..." "But you've tried on lots of different clothes haven't you?" Lisa said firmly. "After all you've been --let's say borrowing-- your sister's things and some of my clothes for months. So what do you like best? Nice floral print dresses? Do you like skirts and tops? Have you tried on some of the long gowns? Your sister has a couple of prom dresses in her closet. Did you try those on honey? "Of course I wouldn't be right without asking her first. Maybe you should give her a call and ask if you can borrow some of her dresses to wear." Frankie panicked. "No mother, please, I don't want to borrow Lindsey's clothes... I don't want to call and ask ..." Lisa interrupted. "Well of course you don't. I understand. You want your own skirts, and blouses and dresses don't you? That's to be expected, a girl like you shouldn't have to wear hand-me-downs. Sounds like we'll be doing some mother and daughter shopping . . . or maybe it should be mother and son shopping . . . shopping for women's clothes. The prettiest most feminine and girly dress we can find. Because mommy's pretty boy just loves dressing up like a girl and being oh, so pretty." Frankie's shoulders drooped. Lisa nudged him and told him to sit up straight. He stared straight ahead into the mirror as his hair was transformed into a mass of soft waves that fell nearly to his shoulder and floated in a wisp across his forehead. The style gave his hair more volume and was an unmistakably and completely feminine style. Frankie reach up to touch his hair, only to have his hand swatted away. "No touching, not after I did all that work. Sit still." Lisa handed her son a plastic shield to hold in front of his face and began to set his new hairdo with hair spray. She continued to comb and tease and spray until she was well pleased with the look. "Oh darling, I'm so glad you keep your hair long. Most boys don't keep their hair as long as yours. But then again," she snickered, "most boys wouldn't sit still for even a minute to let their mothers put their hair up in curlers and then style it so they look as pretty as you do!" She reached over and clipped a small pink hoop style earring to each of his ears and handed him a bangle bracelet to slip over his slim wrist. Frankie stared at his reflection in the mirror and could scarcely believe what he saw. She had really done it. She had done it all. She dressed him in a bra and panties and made him wear stockings and high heels. She put him in a skirt and did his make-up, too. And now his hair. A perfectly feminine hairstyle. She had dressed him from head to toe. He quivered as she put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him with a knowing smile on her face. She dabbed a bit of cologne behind his ears. Frankie felt his skirt slide across his thighs as he ran his fingertips across his stocking covered knees and closed his eyes. She took him by the hand and led him, once more to the full length mirror. "Oh honey," she said in a soft voice, "you do look lovely. And to think that you kept this sweet girl side from me all this time. All the times you were dressing up all by yourself, with nobody to see how pretty you look. Well that's all behind you isn't it? Now mother will be dressing you up and it will be so much fun won't it? Won't it be just wonderful?" Frankie hardly knew what to say. It was so exciting to dress by himself. But this, this was new and even more exciting. To be dressed by his mother, to have her transform him was beyond any excitement he ever knew. Even now, as he gazed into the mirror at the girl gazing back at him he felt the rush of pleasure as he became aroused once more. His swollen cock bugled inside his panties. Oh yes, he wanted to dress. He desperately wanted to wear panties, and bras and heels and put on make- up. He wanted to feel his cock strain against the silky fabric of his panties and he craved the pleasure he felt when he brought himself to the edge of an orgasm as he saw himself all dressed up. And then there was the thrill of finally cumming, cumming with a gasp and a shudder of delight. Oh, but not like this. Now she knew. And she seemed to enjoy dressing him. She told him so. She would dress him for a month. But then what? Yes, he told himself, a month, just for this month. That was his punishment. He would have to wear whatever she wanted him to wear and she could make him do it whenever she wanted. But for a month, only month. Then it would be all over.