Posting this early. Since this Sunday is Mothers' Day I wanted to and managed to, write something incorporating that topic in a small way. See if anyone recognizes the Mom in this story as I am certain you have met before.
But first and what should be foremost, Happy Mothers Day to all the Moms out there! I am certain you don't get enough credit, and worse yet, if you are like the Moms I know, you are too hard on yourselves, therefore I offer you this simple reminder:
And to all of you, if you are fortunate enough to still have your Mom around, at the very least call her on Sunday. Please.
And now on with the story.....
“Mommy will be down in a minute; go play outside” she yells down flustered at her situation as she slams the door shut leaving her all alone in the bedroom.
She walks to the mirror and stares at herself in what she has been ordered to wear. Soft cotton has turned sheer as her ample bottom fills the elastic cotton to the brink.She turns around to study the elasticity of the white cotton further. She shakes her head, snapping the well-defined waistband; they simply are no meant to be worn under a tight skirt, not able to go unnoticed with such an outfit she explains to the empty room.
herself clever as a solution comes to mind, she pulls on the cotton
panties, wedging them between her cheeks. She immediately realizes that
this is not a comfortable option and releases them.
She turns right and left, still angry at the command, and debates not if the pantie-lines will be visible or not, but rather how defined they will appear. Twirling around she smiles surprising herself as she begins to admire the tight fit. She reluctantly admits to herself that they don’t feel nearly as tight as they obviously look. No, she would never admit that to him, just to herself.This forced humble garment is a blatant contradiction to her sexy dress, yet there is more to it. She wonders what it is really. Is it that he secretly just loves the fact that the forced stretched cotton makes them sheer? Or does he truly want her to feel embarrassed? Embarrassed how? She would never show them to anyone let alone openly admit to anyone that he picks out her panties. That he often forces her to wear certain panties when she acts up; panties meant to teach her a lesson.
“Well the joke is on you Mister,” she says out load as she looks in the mirror. He doesn’t know that despite being “punishment panties” they somehow make her incredibly horny? Partly due to the fact that he "made her" wear them, took the decision away from her…
Yes, she starts off mad of course, but they eventually get her hot – but why? They shouldn’t. It doesn’t make sense. He treats her like a… she can't say it, but he treats her like she isn’t mature enough to make her own decisions nor handle her own emotions.
She stops herself form a tailspin of conflicting thoughts and instead switches her debate to the decision to give in now rather than later. Why did she give into wearing these granny panties instead of her thong like she had planned to? A thong would be appropriate for both the outfit and how she wanted to feel tonight.
It is not too late. She should just wear the thong and deal with the consequences later, right? But is keeping clear of her friends judgemental, negative fashion comments worth the consequences? Worth upsetting him, worth the drawn-out argument; worth how he’ll deal with her?
Screw it, she’ll teach him; teach them all. Not only will she wear these panties and feel sexy wearing them she’ll change her outfit. That’s right, an outfit that matches these...these babydoll panties. That's right; they aren't granny panties they are cute and sexy babydoll panties. She’ll wear a flowy babydoll dress and see what he thinks of that! So much for forced pantie-lines!
Her friends will be so envious of her cute new outfit, who cares what is underneath. In fact, she should tell them. And when they begin to comment on how ugly full coverage panties can be, she'll cut them off and mock their lack of hipness, lack of being up on the latest styles. This mom is in the know; thank you very much, ladies.
Her mind races back to him and the fact that he will be coming home after her night out; tired and frustrated as he warned, as she well knows, and neither choice will have mattered as he’ll need relief regardless. But why give him further ammunition to take out his frustration on her by intentionally wearing an outfit he didn't approve with the punishment panties or wearing a thong despite his orders.
Sure the spanking might be unbearable, but he’ll want additional relief regardless. The question was what would be more pleasurable afterward? A firm punishment spanking for wearing the wrong panties followed by equally punishing rough sex or being treated to a good girl spanking for following his orders and followed by great sex?
She cuts off her own train of thought as she suddenly realizes that both her mind and fingers have wandered. She’s unintentionally worked herself up into a heat as she faces off with the unpleased clock. She looks out the open window as the sun sets and the sound of youthful laughter still fills the air. She takes another sip of her wine glass, places it back on the dresser and ponders her immediate choices.
“They can wait,” she steps over to the welcoming bed, grabs a pillow and mounts it without hesitation. “Mommy needs some alone time.”
She begins rubbing herself against the pillow as the one size too small panties begin wedging themselves between her cheeks and lower lips. She pictures what he’ll do to her late that night when he comes home. Imaging his scent from coming back from a strenuous day as he finds her in bed. He’ll flip back the covers and see her there greeting him; greeting him entirely naked all but for her panties. But which panties?
The punishment panties? Yet, she’ll offset the the dynamic of his approval, sending him into an instant tailspin by admitting that she switched her dress, to a flowy dress and the day was windy and her dress was short. Yes, she changed outfits without his consultation. This visual will really get him going, not that he’ll need much help. His anger at her disobeying, topped by the possibility that she was on display for strangers' eyes will cause him to let loose.
He’ll drag her out of bed, scold her while tossing her over his bulging pants… He’ll scold her for being a bad example, an irresponsible mom, and an immature brat. He’ll slap her bottom in growing intervals explaining that she shouldn’t be parading her ass around for others to make rude comments about. That if her dress flipped up thanks to the wind and anyone saw, they would definitely have seen her panties.
She would intentionally correct him, and tell him that thanks to him, thanks to him making her wear these sheer panties they would have seen a lot more of her than just her panties. This, of course, will get him more upset and he'll scold her about showing off her tight ass to strangers and that if she is okay with showing off her ass crack, he might as well yank these panties off. He'll begin slapping her bottom firmly and with conviction at this point. Stopping only to further threaten that he better not hear a single thing. He better not hear any comments; neither about his wife dressing inappropriately, wearing a short dress, nor about anyone seeing this young milf's panties. If so then there will be a much harder lesson then the spanking he’s giving her.
He’ll then yank her panties further down, leaving them wrapped around her thighs, flip her over the bed and spank her in a rapid targeted succession; one, two, three, four... Just before she is about to cry out from the culminating pain; just before... he'll unzip his pants. Wasting no time, he'll ram her from behind, filling her pussy in an instant. Pounding in and out; in and out. She'll then gasp as she feels another intruder; his thick middle finger probing up her tight, petite bottomhole, all while simultaneously continuing to pound her pussy.
She dry humps the pillow now wishing he hadn’t been called away. Wishing she would have sent him off properly other than with her cold, attitude filled remarks. She sticks her soft hand inside the tight panties, a freshly manicured set of fingernails disappear leaving only pale knuckles visible.
She tries to focus on her warm thoughts and not the screams and laughter coming from outside in the distance. In no time she is physically bouncing on the bed, her fingers rubbing and penetrating deeply. No doubt she’s a shameless sight of frustration she thinks to herself as the room fills with an audience of leering early twilight shadows. The summer wind blows cold into the room full of judgment of her choice to leave her littles out back playing unsupervised while she puts her full attention on playing unsupervised with herself.
Her hair is swinging wildly, her breasts bouncing freely, her ass on full display. She doesn't care that she is blatantly trying to rub her clit against her pillow; legs spread wide toes and ass to the sky, panties concealing nothing, stretched to their limit and ready to burst as she continues her mad humping. She doesn't care. She doesn't care. She deserves this break.
Her hair now a tangled mess as her moisture seeps through and onto the pillow just as she fully relaxes and lets herself go.
Oh, oh. OH GAWD!”
She frumps her head down, breathing deeply, panting loudly.
“Mmmm, yeeess. I needed that” she tells herself as her hand is still wedged between herself and the pillow. She turns over on her back and stretches her legs wide and looks down at the white panties between them. Slowly becoming aware that her panties are damp in sweat throughout, the crotch drenched and sticky; when the full realization hits her.
The realization that she can’t wear these now and that these are her only clean punishment panties. Well, they were her only clean pair. Now what? No time to wash them before her friends come pick her up for their much anticipated Girls Night Out. Not to mention nowhere near enough time before her Aunt Gee comes over to babysit the littles.
“No! Fffuck, already?! Now what?!”
She scrambles off the bed trying to make a decision.
Forced back to the previous decision, wear the thong panties she wanted to begin with, or leave these now soiled ones on? But she can’t do that, she tells herself, she can’t be “that girl".
Just put on another pair silly girl, she tells herself.
“Fffffuck!” she stares at the overflowing hamper, another chore not done and she hears his voice clearly reminding her to be sure to get all her chores done before she goes out with friends.
Bare toes scramble across the room skidding to a stop in front of the dresser. Now faced with a couple of other limited options; choose between holey, well-worn faded panties or threadbare frumpies that only see daylight for a few days a month.
Decisions, decisions; four choices and no easy decision.
“No! Fuck, fuck fuckety fck!”
The sound of the door opening, the slow footfalls; capped by the ever recognizable voice,
The littles are out back, alone; are you here?
Or are you just busy putting on all that makeup that only you seem to like?"
The wooden steps to the upstairs creak, announcing her fast approach.
It's me, Aunt Gee, I let myself in."
The deliberation is permanently interrupted and a decision is made.
And what choice did she make? Did she choose wisely?
As always, I do hope you find this story enjoyable and if so please let me know.