A sissy called Jezebel Part XXXV
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A Sissy Called Jezebel Part XXX free porn video
A sissy called Jezebel Part XXX- Jezebel really is about to be hosed
off at a truck stop, am I crazy or does that sound kind of sexy.
"Is it a point of honor Mother?"
"Damn straight gurl." Mother is going to retrieve her 'lost property',
so it's back to makeout point/the observatory for me.
Mother has only 'threatened us' with the truck stop wash a few times
when we were younger and my sisters found some muddy puddle to throw me
into. We haven't actually been to it, but mother has used them, like
all smart travelers. They're perfectly clean, and if you've been on
the road and need to freshen up, why the hell not get a shower.
We tear down the highway and enter the store/service area. Mother's
car is electric, so she plugs into a charger. Mother buys a ticket and
we head into the waiting area for the showers to come available. Since
this area is so intensely matriarchal, almost all the truckers here are
womyn. Several truckers recognize mother and start chatting her up.
Mother has always been pro-union, even I know that, so these womyn
really love her, since the current council majority (Mommy's is the
'loyal opposition' within said board) is super pro-business and
basically anti-labor. Of course they ask her why we are here, and
mother says without missing a mark that I got high on pot, and that I
am very naughty sissy, and she is here to clean me up so I don't stink
up the house. She has me bend over and show the truckers my already
'striped' butt. "I am simply at my wits end with this disobedient,
spoiled delinquent, perhaps you ladies could help?"
Mother has two purposes, first; offering your sissy for correction to a
stranger is both a sign of respect and of trust and second; my mother
is giving me a present, really, she knows that I am already super
turned on. There are a couple of game tables, for the truckers to
shoot pool or play ping pong, which very importantly has ping pong
paddles. I am ordered to pick up a paddle, kneel, hold it out and beg
one of the truckers to spank me. My sissy clitty is already straining
in its little 'jail'. The biggest, dykiest, trucker gladly takes the
paddle, sits, and slaps her knees, the signal for any sissy to 'climb
on board' hir dominat's lap. The particular trucker is dressed in
dickies work pants, a large leather belt with a giant belt buckle, a
red plaid shirt, and of course a trucker hat. I try not to smile or
act in any way that is a tell, that I am secretly enjoying this so-
called 'punishment.' I lie across her lap, and feel her pulling down
my panties to my ankles, she tightly squeezes her powerful thighs
around my now trapped chastity cage, and begins to sharply paddle each
cheek, as I count each blow and beg her for another blow.
"How many Mrs. McArthur?"
"I'd say as many as you have time for, but I see some of your friends
want to join, so let's be egalitarian."
After twenty five, I am signaled to get off her lap, I fall to my knees
thanking her for the correction, promising to be a good sissy, and
kissing the paddle. Another trucker wearing a UPS uniform has me lie
across her lap, and the spanking continues. I am now so close to
coming. My breath is becoming ragged, my mind is going to that place,
the place that leads to orgasms. I haul myself back, as a third
trucker, starts spanking me. She is wearing overalls, a muscle t-shirt
and is wearing her trucker hat backwards, I am almost climaxing as I
get on her lap. Luckily, just as she starts her spanks, my shower code
projects on the screen. Mother says that she thinks I have 'learned my
lesson', and has me thank all my spankers again. She grabs me by the
ear and hauls me into the shower room. As soon as we enter, mother
turns on the shower, because we both start laughing, and we don't want
to give away that the whole event wasn't about 'punishing' me.
I thought you were going to climax right in front of that last trucker,
she was so butch and so sexy in that outfit, I know that's right up
your alley."
"Oh goddess yes. Mother I was so close to losing control, if that
shower sign hadn't come on, I was doomed."
I notice that we must be in a sissy shower room, some truckers take
their sissies with them so they can cook and clean for them in their
sleepers, and 'lick the long miles' away. So beyond the pink decor and
lacy lampshades, the shower room has hooks for enema bags, mirror
lighting for makeup, a hygienic butt plug (and other toys) cleaner,
(which we immediately use, since we are out of spares) and so on.
Mother had bought an enema bag at the truck stop convenience store, so
I hook myself up, and start cleaning out my 'sissy area.'
"Mother, I see these are just regular enemas, they are not like the
ones Spacy Macy gave me, those had CBD oil and probably something else
in them, wow I got high as fast as a SpaceX rocket launch. In fact the
CBD oil they rubbed on my bruises felt great. After punching her
lights out, you should find out who sells cousin Macy that oil, it
would be great on your back."
"So after one night, you've turned into a total stoner? Do you want to
drop out of school, wear tie dye, and follow the Grateful Dead? Well
too bad, they broke up years ago."
"Tie Dye? Oh ick Mother."
"Do you even know who the Grateful Dead are?"
"Some K-pop group?"
Mother looks like she is going to strangle me.
"I've heard of the Grateful Dead, mother. They're a polka band,
right?"
"Get in the shower, smart ass."
My shower in the house has only a cold water tap, the second I get
under the warm water of this shower, I am right back to feeling
aroused. The water touches my red hot ass cheeks, and I grimace from
the tingling sensation. My nipples turn rock hard, and my little
clitty once again tries to make a 'jailbreak' from its confinement.
Mother looks at me and tsks. "Such little self-control, my little
horny kitty, I guess it would be mean of me to now say that you can't
orgasm.' She sits down, looks at her nails, and whistles. I try not to
look frustrated.
"Who are the Grateful Dead?", mother asks me dryly.
I sing poorly,
"Light a candle curse the glare
Draw the curtains I don't care 'cause it's alright
I will get by I will get by
I will get by I will survive"
Mother smiles, "the sell out album, sigh."
"I'm not a jukebox mother, that's one I know. It's the only one that's
ever played on the radio."
"Well if you are a jukebox, you have a scratchy needle. That was
really terrible dear, remind me not to have you sing for your supper."
(My 'singing' ability, or lack thereof; is a constant family joke.
Mother believes that sissies should be trained in different performing
arts, so we can entertain our families and future owners. Mother sent
me for singing lessons, I was sent back a half hour early with half of
the deposit for the lesson. Mother started me on the piano, the next
day.) She then reaches into her handbag, and hands me a slender pink
vibrator and some lube. "Knock yourself out."
"Thank you mother. You are very generous." The shower has one of
those adjustable shower heads connected to a flexible hose, that both
sissies and womyn love, for similar reasons. I pick a strong pulsate
setting and aim it at my nipples. I really begin to moan, like most
sissies, I can climax just from nipple play, but that is time we don't
have. I switch the settings to a narrow pulsating stream (some gurls
call it the paint stripper or power wash setting) and aim it right at
my boi-pussy. The jet hits me at the right spot and penetrates me.
Now I am really moaning. I switch around with my toys, and return the
shower head to my nipples and insert the vibrator into my siss-hole. I
click it on, and that does the trick. I start jerking. Mother takes
one of our empty coffee cups and places it in front of my chastity
cage. I squirt my sissy cream into the receptacle. (Any port in a
storm, mother prefers using a special crystal chalice, an antique of
course, that she keeps on the mantle, it's very ornate, always on
display (I mean everyone know what its used for), and such a Tchotchke
is a fixture in almost every matriarchal homes, for example, Hepzibah's
now 'moot' crystal champagne flute, remains next to my chalice. When
sissies get gelded, sometimes the mistress stomps on the chalice (or
'cum bucket') to dramatically signify to the sissy that was your last
orgasm involving your 'male-ish' equipment, but Hepzie's flute is a
Waterford from the 1800's, that's not happening! ) Mother holds the
cup to my lips and I swallow my 'emission' right down, like a good
sissy. It's such a turn on, I start to climax again, so mother repeats
the whole process again, with a smaller portion. I am now running on
empty down there, but due to the joys of a sissy-gasm, I'm not done
with my multiple orgasms. I keep shaking and moaning (or as Valerie
calls it 'moan-squeaking'), as the waves of pleasure shoot through me.
Poor males, out in the greater world; if they only knew the joy that we
properly 'conditioned' sissies receive from penatrative sex, there
would be a line out the door of males begging the Matriarchy to 'break'
them in.
All good things come to an end, eventually. Mother applauds, it was
quite the show. Let's face it, everything a young sissy does is
tightly controlled by our mothers, there really isn't a concept of
'privacy' between the sissy and hir mother (I mean in one direction,
mother is as 'private' as she chooses.) I'm just glad I live in a
household where I can orgasm a couple times a week (usually), some of
my gurlfriends are like champagne bottles ready to pop, their mothers
won't give them release for weeks, sometimes months. Yikes!) I drop
to my knees and kiss mother's barefoot, and then just concentrate on
getting squeaky clean.
"Wow you really 'exploded', was it the sexy trucker spanking?"
"Oh goddess, yes, mother. I was going to cream that one womyn's
Dickees in about five more seconds. I was thinking my most un-sexy
thoughts, and I was losing the battle."
After I finish up in the shower, I blow dry my hair, and a real treat
(I mean after letting me cum like a moaning banshee, that's also a
really 'special' treat as well), mother begins to braid my hair.
Mother opts for a halo braid. I feel very special.
"I don't know why I don't do this more often, Abigail won't let me
touch her hair, and the twins just go in variations of pigtails?"
Mother brought me my outfit for the day. My stinky babydoll is thrown
into a sealed baggie. Mother is letting me dress very adult, for once,
this is from my 'outside' world/stylish young adult side of the closet.
(When we are outside the Matriarchy bubble, to avoid confrontations
with packs of angry men and also sometimes so called 'traditional'
women, who are soooooooo threatened by the very existence of the
Matriarchy, there is an 'unwritten' rule that that we should 'tone
things down a little bit', sissies are dressed feminine, of course,
but not over the top frou frou. In other words, we sissies get to
sample our sisters' wardrobes or hand-me-downs. That said, we sissies
are never allowed to hold ourselves out as female, if asked, even if it
might lead to an uncomfortable situation, we have to say 'sissy' or
'other'. On the other hand, I seem to have little trouble 'passing
femme' when we are 'out and about' amongst those 'savage' males.)
I get to wear my super warm cream colored, cable knit, mini length
dress with lantern sleeves and matching cardigan sweater, matched with
my thigh high calf skin boots. Perhaps to make up for my 'adultish
outfit' mother selected a set of ruffled rainbow panties, brazier waist
cincher and garter belt so I remained totally sissy underneath. I was
suspicious when Mother arrived at Spacey Macy's house, that we were not
heading home. Mother is dressed like she is either going on a pheasant
hunt or possibly to an alpenhorn blowing event, in riding boots,
stirrup pants, tweed hacking jacket, and feathered fedora. (If mother
was just going to be seen by family, to pick my sorry ass up and head
home, mother would definitely be wearing one of her 'house frau'
dresses or jeans and a t-shirt, but not sweats, mother detests sweats.)
Mother spritzes me with some rosewater, (not my usual dousing in
perfume I make a mental note of that), 'just to get the last of the
'stinkweed' out of me and we head out of the shower room. None of the
truckers are still around, but wait the first one to spank me, the
giant one, she's here but now wearing a pretty floral dress. She waves
at us and tells us her girlfriend likes her to dress 'girly.' I mean
her muscles are exploding out of the dress, but she's got lipstick and
a ribbon in her hair. In its own way, it's really kind of hot. She
pinches my ass as we take off for the car.
"Mother whispers,"you can't always tell who's the 'top' in any
relationship," she says with a smirk. We head towards the observatory,
with the windows down, still trying to air the car.
"Mother, just to be clear, you've called out the entire family clan to
hunt for the ditched chastity and boi pussy dildo base from last
night?"
"Well that and to put you on trial."
"What?"
"Look dear, you told me the truth, and quite frankly on something like
this you have earned complete credibility with me, but also I know you
are being truthful, because, first, I know that you absolutely hate
being out of your chastity so you are not some sort of scheming sissy
yearning for 'freedom' trying to collude with your girlfriend to get
released; and secondly, you are a horrible liar. I mean, you are, the
few times that you have lied to me, usually trying to cover for your
rapscallion sisters, you have been very inventive, but it is always
obvious when you are fibbing. I will never disclose to you the twenty
obvious 'tells' that you give off, but basically, you are sooooooo
consumed with guilt, well it's kind of pathetic, in a cute way. It's
'patheti-cute.' That's it. Actually I want the girls to hear first
hand what happened because it is very serious, even deadly serious, and
I want them to be able ask you questions, so that's the real importance
of this inquest, but you were unlocked from your chastity without my
approval, and traditionally, that can lead to an inquest. Quite
frankly, we haven't done one in ages, so we decided to have a dry run.
In other words honey, the fix is in. So that issue is simply not a
concern. Got it?"
"Understood mother. So I am really that terrible at....."
Mother cuts me off, "You might as well write out across your forehead
in red magic marker the words 'Warning: this is a lie Mother.' Your
future as a professional poker player looks very doubtful, or at least
short lived."
"But what about all those other times I lied to hide those terrible
things I did and you believed me?"
Mother laughs so hard, I think for a second we might go off the road.
Elle
- 28.11.2022
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A sissy called Jezebel Part XXXX
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A Sissy called Jezebel Part CXXXII
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