Loading...Abigail Moran shifted nervously in her seat. The clock on the wall showed only five more minutes until her last class of high school was over. Ms. Fitch wasn’t really teaching anything today so much as chatting about the upcoming summer break. To Abigail, it was nerve racking! She snapped her bubble gum in frustration.
She felt embarrassed to be sitting there dressed as she was, but the lady on the phone had been very strict about the dress code she required. She reached down to straighten one of her girlish white knee socks.
Abby was a shy, somewhat introverted girl who had been the recipient of a very strict upbringing. Her mother had divorced her father when she was only two years old, citing his “perverted male urges” as the cause. One day, while walking from the post office with her daughter, the two had spotted a pair of stray dogs in full copulation. Her mother had pointed to the fattened sac that swayed just underneath the male’s hindquarters.
“See that there? His BALLS?” The word she used had made Abigail blush, but she had seen them. How could she have missed them? They had looked huge to the young girl.
Her mother continued the lesson: “Boys have those too. Usually full to bursting with their disgusting, cream. It’s really just shameful.” She shook her head as if exasperated. “They’ll do just anything to spit out that awful slime.”
Abby watched shyly through her bangs as they passed the rutting dogs, seeing the beastly humping of the big males rear end as he drove himself in and out of the bitch. But the lesson had stayed with her. Her mother had made sure that she hadn’t dated any boys, and though she burned with curiosity, she lacked the boldness to satisfy that curiosity. Since turning eighteen just four weeks earlier, her mother had also been after her to get a summer job. She had candystriped before but wanted to find something different, so finding the ad in the paper had been a nice reprieve. She had been hired by an older woman named Emily Crenshaw to help out with backyard chores and nanny duties. It paid nicely and, despite her strange clothing requirements, the lady had seemed pleasant enough on the phone. She didn’t quite know why she had to dress like this, but thought of the whole thing as a new summer adventure to tell her friends about.
She watched with big blue eyes as the clock finally reached its tippy top and Ms. Fitch formally ended the class by wishing them a good summer. The leather pounded the linoleum floor as students made for points unknown.
Abby put her soft blonde hair up into two pigtails to keep it out of the way; inadvertently making herself look younger then she already was. With her diminutive stature and dainty features, the clothes completed the image of innocence.
When she arrived at the address the woman had given her over the phone, she realized she still wasn’t quite sure what the specifics were. She was on her best behavior, nonetheless, as she really wanted this job. After a shy knock on the door, a slim, tall woman in a white blouse and gray wool skirt answered it. Despite the summer heat, she seemed to be wearing thick dark hose and lace-up ankle boots.
“Hello. You must be Abby?”
“Yes, Ms. Crenshaw, ma’am. Abigail Moran. I’m hear to start work today?”
She smiled down at the sweet-faced girl and had to stifle a maternal urge to ruffle her hair. She was adorable, thought Emily. So tiny! Barely five feet tall, and such an innocent pair of big blue eyes! She looked the girl over and approved of the plain white blouse and short pleated navy skirt. The white cable-knit knee socks were a fetching touch as were the black and white saddleshoes. Yes, very adorable.
“Well, I see you’ve worn the appropriate attire, but I’ll need to see your panties.”
Abigail almost swallowed her gum, and thought to herself that she must have heard wrong.
“P…pardon me?”
Emily placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the girl with a mixture of sympathy and resolve.
“Your panties, sweetheart. I need to have a quick look at them. I don’t want to overexcite my son with glimpses of… well… inappropriate underwear. And let’s face it- that IS a very short skirt.”
Abigail blushed and looked even prettier when she did it as she carefully and with great modesty raised just the hem of her skirt just several inches up.
“Higher please. Raise your little skirt all the way up so I can have a good look at them.”
Her cheeks turning even redder, she hesitated.
“But… but Ms. Crenshaw. Must you see my panties? You SAID I had to wear a skirt this short! I promise I won’t let your son see them.”
“Now, now. No more fussing.”
With that, Emily took a firm hold of the girl’s skirt hem and raised it high up to her chin exposing all of her little white cotton panties to whomever happened to glance in the direction of her front porch. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the underwear the girl had chosen. They had the cutest little pink lace edging around both leg openings and there was a little pink bow near the waistband. The soft white cotton was covered in little pink polka dots. Turning the girl around she took in the sight of her jutting, eighteen-year-old bottom stretching the cottony fabric. The word “sweetheart” was printed in pink handwriting across the rear end of her panties.
“Oh, honey. Honey, those are sooo cute!” She then gave her several little pats across her bottom like an indulgent mother, telling her spoiled little daughter to get ready for bed. “And aren’t you just the little sweetheart in your pretty panties!”
Satisfied, she dropped the little skirt and it fell back into place as Abigail’s rapid breathing slowly grew to a normal pace. She chomped on her gum to help quell her embarrasment.
“Very well, if you’ll follow me, we can introduce you to my boy. He’s going to be very… interested… to meet you, Abby.” Emily chuckled at her choice of words.
Abigail was wondering what she had gotten herself into while the two made their way through the small dining room to a pair of French doors that opened onto a patio. Beyond that was a fenced in area that ran the length of the yard, and beyond that a stout privacy fence in tasteful white shone brightly in the sun. Abby noticed what seemed to be a cute little doghouse at one end. She was beginning to feel only slightly more at ease and played with one of her pigtails which seemed to have a calming effect.
“What kind of dog do you have?” She asked innocently.
Emily smirked at the girl and slowly shook her head.
“I don’t own a dog. Just my son, Thomas.”
Just then there was a noise that startled Abigail and her attention was drawn to the doghouse. Her bright blue eyes grew large as she took in the sight of a young man crawling out on all fours with a leather dog collar around his neck. As he made his way into the sunlight she saw that he was dressed in a pair of old beige pantyhose that had been customized with a small elasticized hole at the crotch. Through the hole she saw his bare penis and testicles hanging down. She brought her hand up to her mouth and gasped. She was reminded of the copulating dogs and those big balls.
“That’s my son there.” Emily chuckled.
“B…but he’s in girl’s tights!”
“You mean that pair of ladies pantyhose? Oh my, so he is. Just shameful isn’t it?”
Abigail didn’t quite know what to say. She was a good catholic girl after all. Having never even seen a boy’s thing before, this was certainly something.
“Oh my god. Yes… I mean… um… Shameful.”
Thomas blushed at the girl’s words. He knew he must look ridiculous in his mother’s old pantyhose, but she required it of him. She made him wear them. Despite his shame, his cock lurched stiffly between his legs. Emily turned back to her son and began to saunter over to where he sat back on his haunches, both hands trying to cover his genitals, lest this clearly innocent young girl see them.
“Now, now, Thomas- you know better than to attempt modesty.” She spoke like a schoolteacher addressing a dimwitted pupil.
“Who deserves modesty?”
Thomas, now known to a select group as “funnel”, knew his place. His mother had seen to that in no uncertain terms. He paused only briefly before answering her. Emily repeated her question; hands on her hips and starting to look cross at her son.
“Who deserves modesty Thomas?
“M…my betters, Ma’am.”
“I see. And do YOU deserve any modesty… Thomas?”
“No, Ma’am” He hung his head as he said it. Abigail watched this inquisition with quiet, curiosity.
“And why is that, Tommy?”
“Because… because I’m a pervert, Ma’am.”
Though by now his cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment, his mother saved her final blow to his dignity for this moment.
“I see, Thomas. I think I would like it very much if you removed your hands from where they are and place them respectfully at your sides now.”
He didn’t say a word. In the months that had followed that terrible and wonderful ordeal at the clutches of Ms. Isabella Fortune, his mother had ground him firmly under her stockinged heel. The hands moved away and once again, young Abigail Moran saw her very first male penis… only this time very stiffly bobbing between this young man’s pantyhosed legs.
“Abby, I would like to introduce you to my son, Thomas. The little boy you’ll be caring for.”
“B…but he’s not a little boy. He’s a grownup! He doesn’t need a nanny.”
“Oh, on the contrary sweetheart. That’s exactly what he needs. Here… let me show you something.”
Opening the caged enclosure, she walked over to her son with Abigail following slowly behind. She seemed both wary and very curious about what the woman wanted to show her. Emily picked up a small wooden stool from beside the doghouse and brought it over near her son. She then began to gather up her skirts until they were at her hips, exposing all of her stockinged legs, garter straps and silky mint colored panties. Sitting down on the stool with the grace of a queen, she then motioned for Abby to squat down next to her- a movement which caused her own little skirt to ride up and expose her adorable panty crotch.
“Watch carefully, Abigail. This is how my son must be attended to.”
With that, she brought one hand down sharply across his pantyhosed bottom and ordered his legs spread wide. She traced her manicured nail down across his rear end, through the crack, until it found his enlarged balls. She jiggled them as she spoke.
“Well. We ARE very full this afternoon, aren’t we Thomas.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
His eyes were fixed, trans-like to his doghouse as he focused on the maddening sensations of his mother’s fingernails bouncing his sac upon their tips. The humiliation washed over him and made him perspire.
“You see Abigail, my son here is quite the little savage.”
Abby’s eyes were riveted to the sight of the woman’s fingers as they goaded the very big scrotum with their jiggling dance.
“I have, in recent time, discovered all of his filthy needs and assure you, find it all quite disgusting. I am a strong woman though, and I soldiered on, even though it required certain accommodations for his behavior.”
Her son suddenly grunted, startling Abby. Emily soothed him with pats across his nyloned ass, as well as condescending words.
“There, there Thomas. Mommy knows you need to make a squirt-squirt. Now- where was I? Oh, yes. Thomas was masturbated regularly into my high heeled shoes and my stockings and even into my panties. You remember that, don’t You Thomas?” He grunted in response, too embarrassed to actually say anything more in front of this girl. “Well, as degrading as it sounds, he really did need such treatment. Pervert that his is, he’s my son and I am his mother, after all.”
Emily took this opportunity to reach underneath him with her other hand to seize his very stiff erection with her cool hand. It made him groan at the contact, but she barely noticed. Abby’s mouth was gaping in surprise. She had never seen such a sight! This young man’s mother was going to play with his thing right before her eyes!
Emily proceeded to do exactly that. Creating a solid grip with her left hand, she slowly but firmly began to stroke the cock up and down as she played with his balls with the right. While openly masturbating her son, she proceeded with her story.
“A true lady can only tolerate so much though. Am I right Abby?”
“Yes, Ms. Crenshaw. I imagine so.”
“Well, my son here…”
She punctuated her statement with a firm squeeze to his bloated balls, which made him whimper.
“…He took it upon himself to root around through my hamper, outside of my supervision. Without so much as my permission, he found a pair of my good black dress-stockings and completely soiled both toe reinforcements with his foul white goo. Isn’t that right, Thomas? Bark once for yes!”
He gave a feeble “arf”. His mother, unsatisfied, gouged a hole in his pantyhose with her fingernail and pulled to create a larger opening that bared his entire ass. Then she delivered a series of four smarting spanks until he had managed the loud bestial bark that his mother had demanded.
Baring her teeth with open contempt, Emily then inserted her middle finger stiffly up her son’s asshole and waggled it around as she masturbated him in a way that jiggled his balls and made him whine. As she smoothly jacked his cock up and down she could feel the heaviness of his scrotum smacking into her palm.
“Good lord, what have you got in there you nasty little boy? Hmm? How much do you have stuffed in those fat balls of yours? Shame on you!”
Calming somewhat, but continuing her educational masturbation, she told Abby the rest of her sordid tale.
“I had a very important dinner to attend with another lady of class and breeding. Attending with my best stockings soiled with semen would not be excusable. I sought out my son that very minute and found him in his room, with a pair of my light blue panties stretched over his head… he was licking the ass stains if I remember correctly.”
The stroking became more firm and rhythmic as she milked his penis and fondled his balls for the girl. Abby was mesmerized by both the story and her first hand look at male masturbation. This was what some girls called “jacking off”, she thought. Her friend, Shelly Sanderson said that boys do it all the time when they think no one is around.
“I collected my dirty underwear and made him strip naked. He built his own doghouse that very weekend under my supervision. Thomas is now very rarely allowed into the house. It’s not fitting after all to have a creature more suited to barnyard humping, crawling across my good carpeting. He’ll wear pantyhose if I allow him anything at all. It amuses me to see him in such garments, and he’s still learning his place.”
Her humiliating and demeaning talk was goading him along and Thomas felt certain he was about to ejaculate. It would be happening soon… with his mother’s finger up his asshole and this sweet girl witnessing everything. He moaned.
Emily was watching Abigail closely now. Her cute little panties showing and her little skirt stretched so tight across her thighs, the pretty white socks and the saddle shoes. Before long, she would be the one milking out great gobs from her son, if she had any say in it.
“Would you like to touch it, Abby?”
“W…what?!”
“His penis, honey. Would you like to feel one? It’s very hot to the touch, but not unpleasant. You can actually feel his naughty thoughts with each pulse that it makes. Come, have a feel.”
Emily looked carefully at the girl’s expression, judging it. She wanted her to take over, but she didn’t want to push things too far this first day.
“Okay. If its too much for you right now, then just hold his balls for me would you? I’ll need them up out of the way when the milk comes out, and your little hands will have a delightful touch to them, I’m sure.”
Giving in to the wicked compromise, Abigail slowly brought her hand over towards the humping, pantyhosed ass that still held the woman’s probing finger. Emily released her son’s balls and watched excitedly as the teen’s fingers bumped into them. At first Abigail simply tickled at them with her fingertips, searching out their contours and texture.
“They feel wrinkly and heavy.”
Emily grinned at her. “Yes. They are heavy with his milk Abby, his semen and sperm.”
Abigail spread her small fingers wide apart and sought to balance the big scrotum on her palm. The hairy balls covered it entirely. The schluck, schluck sound of the forced masturbation continued to drift up from between his legs where his mother jacked him off with a determined rhythm.
As Abby tried to cup the big balls with her one hand she reflected on what Ms. Crenshaw had said. That he was caught playing with his penis… jacking off while wearing her panties on his head… “Licking the ass stains” is what she had said! Almost unconsciously, her small hand tightened just a bit around the big scrotal sac, making Thomas snort loudly. His mother grinned at the sound as her right shoulder bounced from the force of her stroking hand. The two women made eye contact just then, though no words were spoken. To Abigail, it seemed like a weird moment of female bonding in this act of subjugating her son. For those long seconds, as he bucked underneath their combined ministrations, it seemed perfectly natural that they should not only be doing this to him, but that it was the RIGHT thing to be doing to him. Emily broke the comforting silence when she looked down at his heaving fanny, wiggling about as if trying desperately to expel her intruding finger. She slid it deeper into his asshole with a firm push.
“He’s going to squirt soon. Abby, be a dear and grab his plastic dish by the doghouse, please.”
Silently, Abigail released the swollen balls from her palm and stood up to do the errand. As she passed by the kneeling Thomas, she noticed a dog collar around his neck with an id tag. It simply read: “Funnel”. She couldn’t imagine why he was called that, and didn’t really pay it much mind. Continuing, she saw a plastic dog dish next to the little house. There were grass stains on the sides but she saw in big raised letters the words “hungry mutt” stamped on the side. Reaching down to pick it up she looked into the bowl of the dish and noticed a sticky white residue completely covered it. As she carried it back in both hands, several inches below her face, she caught a whiff of something potent and musky. As if answering the girl’s unspoken question, Ms. Crenshaw gave her next order.
“Below his cock, dear… On the ground will be fine.”
Abigail slowly crouched in front of Thomas as she brought the doggy dish down, unwittingly giving the young man a clear view of her adorable white panties. She pushed the dish underneath him so his dickhead was pointed down toward it. Emily praised her.
“Just lovely, Abby. Now, if you’ll be sweet enough to remove your little panties for Thomas, I’m sure he would be honored to do you the favor of licking them clean for you.”
By now, the dirty talk was actually exciting Abigail. It was all so new to her, but she was being swallowed up by the very idea of what they were putting this young man through. And she had to admit; touching his balls sure had been fun! Drawing her hands under her skirt, she hitched her fingers into the waistband of her cotton panties and drew them down her legs. Stepping out of them she held the soft fabric between her thumbs and forefingers, stretching the elastic to give them shape. Then she turned them around to proudly display the rear of the panties and the words “sweetheart” to Thomas’ panting face. Emily watched with a pleased expression, her fist sliding up and down her son’s very hard penis.
“Oh look, Thomas. She’s showing you her underwear. Can you see the words across the rear end? Hmm? Come on… tell me what it says. Read it out loud.”
Thomas shook with passion and humiliation, his pantyhosed legs spread wide and his asshole hungrily sucking at his mother’s wiggling finger. Her stroking hand felt so good and this young girl could see everything that it was doing to him. She seemed so pretty and innocent, but here she was displaying her panties to him like a very cruel prickteaser. Slowly, he risked a glance upward and saw she was actually grinning down at him. In a teasing gesture, she blew a big bubble with her gum- and popped it at him, causing both women to chuckle. His sack was slapping noisily against his mothers masturbating fist as he stared at her white knee socks very close to his face… and the white cotton panties with their taunting words floating in front of him.
“I’m waiting Thomas. Out loud… right this minute.”
“Y… yes… M… Ma’am. Ugh! Oh…. Ma’am… uh…. It says…” Emily interrupted him harshly.
“Her PANTIES, Thomas. Her PANTIES say what?”
“Ugh… Her panties say… s…s…swee… oh god… sweetheart!”
“Thaaats right, Thomas. And she is, isn’t she. An adorable little sweetheart of a girl… who’s watching you getting milked like a dairy cow.” Emily finished with a giggle.
“Just pull them over his head where they belong, Abby. Make sure the ass part is over his nose.”
Abigail did just that, wrinkling her nose with a cute expression of distaste at what this pervert was going to have to do. She remembered the nervous feelings she had had and the several nervous farts she had expelled on her way to the Crenshaws and no doubt their aromas were absorbed into the soft white cotton. After fitting his head with her panties, she paused to look down at him and couldn’t resist laughing at the sight. The word sweetheart scrawled across his face with his nose pushing out at them. One eye peering up at her through one of the pink laced leg openings. She returned to her spot at his rear to resume her ball holding duties. This time, she began a slow rhythmic squeezing of his big nuts as his mother masturbated him into his dog dish.
Thomas whimpered loudly from the sensations that were being wrought upon his defenseless cock and balls. The two women were expertly milking him to their combined delight and he felt every bit the dairy cow his mother had spoke of. He felt the jism boiling in his balls and with a loud braying cry he began his humiliating ejaculation.
Abby cried out in surprise at the force of the expulsion. His balls were giving throbs of muscular contraction as it came out of him in ferocious spurts that landed in his dish with repeated splats. His mother goaded his prostate with firm in and out motions of her finger.
“Come on Thomas. Empty that bone. I want those balls stone-empty.”
He didn’t disappoint. His cock was milked of one thick rope after another, the fingers encircling his length pulling it out of him. Somewhere behind him he could vaguely hear soft, feminine giggling and knew that the girl… the prickteaser was laughing at his spectacle.
Across town a very angry Margaret Blanshtein was stopped in traffic after a long day at the office. Margaret’s disposition was always stern, but when she was angry it was a sight to behold.
“Move it, asshole!” She shouted to the cab driver in front of her. He seemed to be looking back at her through his rearview mirror. She shot him a look that could have frozen lava and he actually braked to let her through. This was what Margaret Blanshtein could do to men… with a look.
Her German ancestry had been responsible for her icy blue eyes and blonde hair, but her temperament was from her mother. She had a large frame that boasted feminine curves and prodigious breasts that shook when she was barking orders at the office.
Punching the pedal with one black heeled pump, she whizzed by the cab driver and held up her middle finger as she did so. Margaret was on her way home and was finally beginning to feel slightly more at ease when she remembered she had to make an appointment to meet with Emily Crenshaw for the weekend. Deciding she would phone her as soon as she got home, she made a mental note to chew out the little prick that was temping as her appointment taker. That semi attractive high school boy who couldn’t do his job right unless you were standing over him and glaring, he would be hearing from her she vowed.
The backyard of the Crenshaw house was filled with snorts and whimpers as Thomas filled his bowl with sperm. Abigail leaned down beneath him to see the last spurts fill the dish. The gooey mess reminded her of a spilled glue bottle. Emily finally released her hold on her son’s penis after wringing the last drops out of him.
“Now, Abigail. Hand me that funnel from inside his little doghouse. I’m going to show you how to feed him.”