I lie on the floor and bury my nose in her panties, inhaling deeply as I play with my little penis and imagine her having sex with her boyfriends. But if she catches me, I know I will get the spanking I deserve.
Mommy has a fabulous selection of dominatrix costumes.
I love to see her towering above me wearing her black skin tight corsets, thongs, long gloves, garter belts and stockings, and thigh-high, high-heeled boots and slapping the palm of her hand with her riding crop as I cower before her. She makes me pull down my pink panties and lie across her knees, and then she gives me a spanking for being such a bad little boy.
Of course, as with any wife, sometimes Mommy just gets bored with me.
At such times, she is able to ignore me completely as though I don’t exist. As she watches TV or talks with her boyfriends on the phone, I try to remain still, to be a good footrest, not to distract her with my own pursuit of pleasure at her expense. For I know, my only real satisfaction comes from her contentment and my only reason for existence is her happiness.
But I do have my little pleasures. I have my own supply of cosmetics and dress-up costumes.
When Mommy brings her boyfriends back to the mansion I dress up as a French maid with a frilly short black skirt, white lace apron, stockings and heels. At nights when I’m alone with Mommy I like to wear a pink frilly little nightie. I have a selection of wigs and make up, and Mommy gives me hormone pills every day along with my daily vitamins that keep my skin soft and feminine and that have helped me to develop pretty little A-cup breasts and a feminine swell to my hips and butt.
I shave my legs and keep my body perfectly waxed so I have no body hair.I grow my finger nails long and enjoy polishing them and putting on colors that match my girly outfits. I also have a tiny little penis that hardly shows when I am wearing panties. I enjoy being Mommy’s little sissy girl.
I love helping Mommy get dressed for her dates with her lovers. First, I prepare her bath.
I carefully scrub the tub, scouring it with a toothbrush, rinsing, scouring again, rinsing, until my hands turn from pink to red and my arms and back pound with pain. I plan carefully. The water and air temperature must be just right. The bath oils perfectly matched with scents and bubbles. I light candles. Soft music. Warm a cozy, fluffy towel. I want to give her perfect pleasure. No demands. Unconditional love.
Mommy will be completely relaxed and ready, ready to be swept into the strong masculine arms of her choice of man.
Mommy is so good to me. She allows me to play in her undies drawer. I love picking out some little soft and silky wisp of panty to slip on her body. I warm it with my breath, feel its silkiness on my face. I kneel at her feet. Her legs are crossed. I hold out her panties.
She lets me slip them over her feet, her legs come uncrossed, I slip them up her ankles, trying not to let her know that I am trying so hard to look between her legs as I work the panties up to her knees. Mommy looks at me and smirks. I beg her with my eyes. She puts her hand on my head, and rises. My moment of exaltation. On my knees, my face inches from her nude, perfectly and completely shaved mons veneris. Not a trace of hair, pure, pristine.
I worship Mommy’s feminine sanctum sanctorum, her total power and control over me. I am helpless in her spell. My mouth waters. My eyes tear. I want to suckle but know now is not the time.
Slowly I work Mommy’s panties up her thighs, savoring every moment, every texture, her smell, the perfume, my hot breath on her mons, my breath like dew on her skin.I cover her most private treasure with the translucent wisp of panty as my trembling fingers guide the panties up her hips.
I release the panties, and allow my fingers to trace her perfect derriere, but not daring to squeeze, still on my knees, drinking in the sight of her beauty now captured in panties, panties that reveal so much.
Mommy sits at her vanity, pretty in her panties, a negligee on her shoulders. I blow dry her hair. Brushing, teasing. Her eyes are closed, as she soaks in the hot air streaming through her scalp, sensual, every pore of her body, a pleasure center.
I marvel at the blonde tresses, the silkiness, the perfection. Stolen glimpses of Mommy’s perfect body, while I fluff the cascade of tresses.
I then apply Mommy’s make up. My job is to enhance her exquisite natural beauty and drive her lovers wild with desire. I start on her eyes. Applying liner to her closed lids, she shows her complete trust in me. I brush, light blue to pick up the cruel blue of her eyes. I blend. When she opens her eyes, they smoke. She looks at herself in the mirror.
She nods. Approval. I beam with pride. She likes to apply her own lipstick. I watch transfixed as she makes her lips glisten red.
Mommy sprays perfume on her neck, another spray low on her tummy. Next to her on my knees, I close my eyes, the better to absorb the heady aroma.
I bring Mommy’s garter belt and attach it around her waist. I bring her stockings. I carefully roll each stocking up her long legs.
I kneel at her feet, placing the rolled stocking at her toes, and slowly, slowly roll the silky nylon over each foot, calf, and up her thigh, where I secure them with a garter.
Finally, she is ready for her date. A handsome young man picks her up, and off they go. I sit and wait nervously. Hours pass. I imagine them dancing, laughing, and I grow sick with anxiety. But, at the end of the evening, he brings her back home. She invites him in, and I am always there, ready to serve.
I have a bottle of fine wine,chilled and ready, and a tray of hors d’oeuvres that I like to serve in one of my French maid outfits.
Mommy’s dates regard me in different ways depending on their personalities. Some go out of their way to abuse and humiliate me; some just regard me with surprise and revulsion; others ignore me.
I follow their lead, trying to make them feel welcome and comfortable with my presence, because if I want to be able to watch their love making, if they will allow me to.
Some of Mommy’s boyfriends are particularly mean to me. I don’t understand why they treat me badly because I do everything I can to be nice to them and make them feel welcome, even to the point of making myself look pretty for them.
I put on false eye lashes, eye shadow, lipstick, rouge, and I always have stocking over my freshly shaved legs, a short French maids skirt, high heels and French perfume. My French maid outfits all have scoop necks that put my breasts on display. But instead of being polite and kind to me, Mommy’s mean boyfriends call me bad names like “bitch” and make me do naughty things.
When this happens, Mommy joins in “the fun” and encourages her boyfriend to mistreat me.
I guess she does this because he is a guest in our house and she wants to make him feel welcome. She will tell me to get him “ready” to have sex with her. She directs everything. She makes me kneel down in front of her boyfriend and zip down his trousers. Then she tells me to reach in and take out his penis. Mommy likes to watch her boyfriend whip my face with his penis until it gets hard. The bad boyfriend makes me put his penis in my mouth and suck it.