EvilAngel Jesse Pony Anal Gaping A2M Blowjob
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Reblog free porn video
I'd been reposting images on tumblr for a little while. I used it mainly
to keep track of dresses, art, captions, etc., that I liked/had found
elsewhere on tumblr. What I didn't know was that my mom had found out
about it. The first thing I knew was after I repost an image of a dress
that had text "reblog if you'd wear this" over it. Image my shock when a
couple of days later I get out of the shower to find the same dress on a
hanger hooked over the wardrobe door in my bedroom.
My mom walks in soon after me. "Well what do you think?" I'm stunned and
have no idea how to answer. 'Surely she doesn't know,' I think to myself.
"Who's that for?" I ask. "You," she confidently tells me in a tone that's
clear she knows, "it's time you put your money where your mouth is."
"What?!" I quick respond but as I'm about to continue she holds up her
phone with my post on the screen. It's true, I did want to wear the dress
but I definitely didn't want anyone to know nor did I want to wear it in
front of anyone.
The thought of being seen in a dress was mortifying on its own but this
dress was very girly. It was a light yellow smocked dress covered with
little teddy bears, a high waist, puffed short sleeves with ruffled
cuffs, peter-pan collar and a skirt that would barely reach the top of my
thighs. "You're wearing it," my mom tells me in a very stern voice, one
that would make any son fearful. With that she walks behind me holding a
bag. "Hold still," she says to me as she crouches down. She lifts my left
foot, slides something underneath, and then my right foot to do the same.
I'm dumbstruck looking at the dress. I'd fantasised about wearing a dress
like that but I don't want it now that it's about to happen. I snapped
back to reality as I feel my mom sliding something up my legs. I look
down in time to see a pair of light yellow knickers, with frills round
the waist and leg holes. She slides them up under my towel, and up to my
waist. I can feel the elastic tight around my waist and legs.
Before I can think of what on earth I'm supposed to do, she whips off my
towel to leave me exposed in just a pair of little girls' knickers. Not
even batting an eye lid, she goes to the dress and swiftly removes it
from the hanger. "Please no," I beg as she comes towards me holding the
dress up to place it over my head. I step back out of fear. "Listen
little Miss," she quickly snaps in a strict voice, "you will be wearing
this dress even if I have to spank you."
I was shocked by her threat. Her tone alone was enough to halt me in my
steps. I wouldn't have imaged she'd put me in a dress so I had no way of
knowing if the spanking was an empty threat or not.
As she lifts the opening of the dress up to my head, I automatically
start placing my hands through the hand holes as if it was a t-shirt, but
once it falls down into place I realise what I'd done. 'Is it too late
now?' I think to myself. As I'm wondering if she really would spank me,
my mom walks around me and starts buttoning up the back, ties off the
ribbon that draw the waist in and then there's a click. "What was that?"
I ask bemused. "I'm not having you back out of this so I ordered it with
D-loops so it could be locked in place. Don't worry; you'll get the key
at the end of the day." 'End of the day. I've got to spend all day in
this,' I thought to myself.
Next she takes a hairbrush from her bag, brushes what hair I've got
before placing a yellow bow hairclip in it. My hair was only just long
enough to secure the hairclip in place. Her final touches were a pair of
white ankle socks that had a frilly hem at the top, and a pair of pale
yellow court shoes. She has me spend the morning dressed like that, to
the great amusement of my younger sister who'd not worn anything half as
girly in years.
"Come on, we're going out," my mom says popping her head round the door.
I look over at my sister expecting my mom just meant her. Both of them
look back at me. "You too missy," my mom proclaims staring straight at
me. "What? I can't go out like this," I protest. "Oh darling, of course
you can. You look adorable and those flats fight perfectly. You could
walk for miles without them causing any issue," she tells me, clearly not
about to let off on this unusual and uncalled for punishment. "Oh, can we
walk mom?" my sister pipes up. All I can think is, 'What the fuck.' Her
teasing me that morning was nothing compared to the horror of walking
outside like this. Almost instantly my mom replied "Sure. It's nice
outside; I see no need to take the car." It was a warm summer's day so no
coat to hide what I was wearing either.
"Where are we going?" I grumpily ask while trying to keep my head down as
I walked. "First we need to stop by my sisters to get the key to your
dress" she informs me. I find out she'd ordered everything to my aunt's
house and "forgotten" to pick up the key. The walk to my aunts was
torturous but nothing compared to seeing my cousin. She, unlike my
sister, had not been told to not take pictures of me. My mom stepped in
before they ended up on facebook but she didn't make her delete them.
After that mom took us for lunch. Fleetingly, walking past people in the
street was bad enough but now everyone around got a good look at me as we
sat there for almost an hour. "You have been such a good girl today," she
tells me in a motherly voice, "I'd like you to wear dresses more often."
"No, please don't. I'll do anything," I protest.
"I'm sure you will but I think this would be a good thing," she continues
ignoring my pleads. "How about we get you something a little more age
appropriate? Or should I order you more dresses like you're wearing?" she
asks.
It's not much of a choice but I don't want to keep wearing dresses that
look like their designed for a girl more than 10 years younger than I am,
so I reluctantly agree to shop for something more age appropriate.
"Great. We'll go shopping after lunch for a completely new wardrobe."
With that, our food arrives and I don't want to make a scene (or any more
of a scene anyway). I look at my mom who's starting to dig into her lunch
as if the conversation has concluded. I glance over at my sister who's
finding the whole thing highly amusing.
And that's how my journey into feminisation began...
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