Mother's Helper Ch. 03-04

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Janice's baby doll is modified and she gets a facial.
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Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 06/18/2009
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Chapter 3 — The offering

After breakfast, the humiliated mother excused herself and took a long, hot shower, wondering what exact form the repercussion would be to her screw-up. Janice and Matt had no contact the remainder of the morning. Only once did he see her, and then from a distance. He stood in the doorway to the den. She was kneeling at the coffee table, writing intently in a book. But he didn't say anything and left the house. Soon after, she left for the gym.

When he returned home in the afternoon, he found her sunbathing again, lying on her front. But this time there was an almost empty margarita pitcher and a full glass on the table next to the bottle of sun block. They greeted each other. His appearance made her even more nervous, swallowing her drink. Yet she was grateful that he'd finally arrived, wondering if he'd notice that she was wearing a bikini different from that of yesterday. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Do you mean for my punishment?" She sounded almost eager to Matt.

"No, that's for later." He realized she wore a different bikini. This one was much more abbreviated and the material was thinner. He made sure to massage as high as possible on her thighs and as low as possible on her back. She groaned quietly.

"Okay, time to turn over."

"Would you tie my top, please?"

"I don't see why. Yesterday you were naked in the kitchen." There it was. She realized he was determined to keep pushing her.

"But my back was turned to you, and I was a few feet away, not lying underneath you!" Matt shrugged and tied the strings, but much tighter than she had the day before. "Oh, that's tight!" she cried, surprised, but turned over, eyes closed to the sun. Matt stared at her breasts, straining against the taut, skimpy fabric. He shot two long strands of sun block up her legs and, beginning with her feet, worked up, rubbing in the cream. When he reached her thighs, he kneaded the flesh with an outward motion, forcefully spreading her thighs wider and staring at her bikini bottom. He could clearly see the outlines of her camel toe, the labia puffy against the thin material.

His knees pressing firmly against her hips, he squirted a load of lotion on her belly. "Ohhh," she murmured. He squeezed a second shot on the tops of her breasts, exposed above the bikini top. Suddenly, she froze, mouth agape, staring at herself.

"Close your mouth," he instructed. Once she did, he sprayed a burst of lotion on her forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. He knelt motionless, enjoying the picture, his cock pressing against his shorts. They both remained still. Janice was shocked at how she would appear to a friend or neighbor, her knees spread wide until they extended off the sides of the chaise lounge, her legs glistening, her chest heaving with excitement, ropes of white lotion snaking across her face, breasts and belly.

He leaned down and whispered. "Do you know what you look like, Mother?" She knew very well, her pussy fluttering, but his voicing the question filled her with a wave of humiliation. Her pussy tingled. He was relentless.

"Yes, but I can't say it to you, it's obscene. It's so bad you'd have to force me to say it. Not that you ever would."

Gently, he slapped her left cheek with his right hand, scattering the lotion. With that act of discipline, the energy between them changed forever. "Mother, I asked you a question." He noticed that she didn't object to the slap, but her eyes had defocused and he thought her already fat nipples had grown even larger. Do you know how you look with the sun block all over your face and chest?"

"I. . . I suppose so. . . yes, Matthew." He increased the pressure of his knees against her hips.

He slapped her other cheek. "Well?" There was absolutely no way she would ever say it. He laughed at her discomfort. "You look like a cake, and I'm the baker decorating you for a birthday with white frosting."

"Oh, of course!" she sighed with relief, but cringing with embarrassment at her lewd mind and the wanton image it had conjured. Matt massaged in the lotion until her stomach was coated. He proceeded to her face, caressing her full eyebrows, strong cheekbones and wide mouth. Finally, he coated her neck and chest. She made no verbal response when he rubbed the tops of her breasts exposed above the bikini, the skin very hot under the intense sun. But her mouth hung open.

"All done," he announced and stood.

"Oh, thank you, Matthew. That was wonderful."

"You owe me, Mother. Don't forget to say goodnight to me tonight. And I won't forget to administer that punishment soon."

That night, when Janice knocked on his door to say goodnight, Matt's night table lamp was still on. This way he could see her front more clearly, instead of outlined by the hall light behind her. Again, she wore only the thin baby doll. She must have washed it. Janice knew the length was skimpy, but the outfit was a lot more protective than standing naked in the kitchen, even if her back had been turned to Matt. Once again she felt a strange restlessness, standing in the doorway, wondering if he would ask her an innocent question like he did in the afternoon, only to have her lascivious mind interpret it in a sexual way.

"Mother, why is the top of your baby doll cut so full, with so much material?" he wondered.

"Gee, I don't know," she said, puzzled by his question. "It's traditional. They're always cut this way."

"What if they were cut tighter?" he asked.

"How do you mean?"

"Well, wouldn't it be cooler in this heat if there were less material?"

"I guess so, sure," she said, aware that she was perspiring.

"Come over here." Without a thought, Janice walked over till she was standing against the bed, her loins level with his head and only inches away. Her breathing had changed. He reached for the material at her sides, but her arms were blocking him from pushing back the extra material. "Move your arms away," he ordered. She held out her arms but they still interfered with Matt's. "No, that won't work. Put them behind you." She crossed her arms behind her, wrist holding wrist. He began moving the gauzy fabric but now her elbows were in the way. "Your arms are still in the way, raise them up." She lifted them till they were horizontal, as if she was doing jumping jacks. "No, they'll tire too quickly like that," Matt said. "Clasp them behind your head."

Obediently, she clasped her palms behind her neck, aware of her jutting breasts. To her, the stretch felt good. She had no idea how it made her look. "Good. Now turn around." She rotated, her luscious ass inches from him. He picked up several magnetic clamps that he'd earlier moved from the magnetic whiteboard in the kitchen to his night table. He tightly gathered the material at her shoulder blades and fastened it with a clamp over her spine in the small of her back. It never even occurred to her to wonder about him having clamps handy on his night table.

"Oh!" she said as the material pressed against her breasts, conforming to them. Matt fastened the lower material at the base of her spine, so the baby doll was also taut over her belly. He grabbed her hips and spun her back to face him. "Wow," he thought to himself. The filmy fabric was stretched so tightly across her breasts he could see them—and her oversized, dark nipples—clearly. She looked down at her son, who was blatantly ogling her breasts. Her nipples and aureole were not only far larger than normal, their color was exceptional – extremely dark, verging on black, a match for the sheaf of cropped black hair on her head. The nipples were abnormally long and thick, the color of dark chocolate.

She felt a wave of wild, defiant abandon mixed with shame as he blatantly inspected her. Exposing herself like this was wrong, but felt wonderfully satisfying. She'd been a hardworking single parent for years. She didn't have to be so serious all the time. She could have a little harmless fun with clothing. It's not as though she was butt naked, like in the kitchen. Besides, it made her feel young and desirable.

He stared up at her, challengingly. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"Y–yes, Matthew, it does feel cooler."

"Turn around again," he commanded.

"Wha–what are you going to do now?" she protested, flustered.

"Just do it, Mother. You'll see soon enough. And I'm not pleased with the way you question what I say. Maybe after I speak to the Dean about your bad mothering I should also go see Family Services."

"Oh, Matthew, please don't even joke about something like that. I know how badly I've acted." She turned obediently. Matt gathered the fabric of the skimpy panties and clamped them tautly in the center of her ass, so tight she could feel the cotton pressing between her large pussy lips. As the material pressed into her cunt, she realized with a wave of panic that her slit was wet. A fresh wave of perspiration broke out on her breasts and groin. "Turn." But she stood frozen. Matt waited a moment and then slapped her ass.

"Ouch!" she cried, too stunned to obey his order. So he slapped the other cheek even harder.

"Mother, you're still not behaving." When she finally faced him again, she watched him staring at her pubis. Matt was thrilled. He could see her clit pushing aside its hood, as well as her damp, bare lips. God, they were huge. A narrow trace of clipped hair extended above them. "There, how does that feel?"

"Umm, it's so tight it actually hurts a little." He was acutely aware that she had not lowered her arms from behind her head. That was a good thing, very good.

"It hurts, does it? Well, that's good. Maybe the discomfort will be a reminder to not burn my breakfasts any more. Now go to bed." Disappointed at being dismissed so soon, Janice suddenly became aware of her posture. She'd practically forgotten her raised arms. She lowered them, slightly reducing the pressure on her breasts and trudged to the door, aware of the fabric rubbing against her damp nipples and labia.

She turned back to him. "Aren't you going to loosen my baby doll?"

"No, why don't you sleep like that?"

"But the clamps will hurt when I lay on my back," she complained.

"That complaint has just earned you another punishment," he intoned quietly. He stared at her until she broke away from his gaze, casting her eyes down. "And no, I'm not going to say when or where. But for now you're going to get another smack."

"Oh," she said meekly, surrendering. "Should I turn my ass back to you?"

"No. Spread your legs." She widened her stance as far as possible. In a blur, Matt swung his hand up between her legs and smacked her pussy.

"Arrr," she moaned, chest heaving with the pain, nipples aching, but he was impressed. Not only did she not object, she didn't change her posture by an inch. She was dizzy with excitement and confusion. Without warning, her son had pussy slapped her.

"Very good, mother. You may go now."

She was now so turned on that she was desperate for him to continue. To prolong the time, she remembered a question. "Oh, Matthew, it's almost time for your graduation. Have you thought about what you'd like for a present?"

"Ummm, not yet."

"Well, remember that you deserve anything you'd like. Anything . . . at all."

"OK, thanks. Well, I don't need any clothes. And my car and computer are okay." She stood there, waiting silently. "Um, I guess I have a few ideas for some . . . personalized gifts."

She felt a flash of excitement. "Personalized? Oh, good. Like what?"

"Some things you can do for me."

"Like cook your favorite dinner?"

"No, because you already do that whenever I ask. I'll tell you when I'm good and ready," he said, mysteriously.

Disappointed and frustrated, she said "Goodnight then, sweetheart." She smiled at him and left. So what if a little harmless exhibitionism had progressed a bit further? Matt worked so hard in school and at part-time jobs that he deserved a little fun. Besides, it was not as if there was any sex involved.

Lying on her bed was awkward. It was okay if she lay still, but when she changed position, her breasts and pussy tingled and she was too full of fantasies to fall sleep. Only at 1:30 am, exhausted after fingering herself to multiple orgasms, did she finally sleep.

Chapter 4 — Letting in the breeze

In the morning, Janice kissed Matt awake, wearing her robe loosely belted over a demi bra and French cut panties. "Good morning, handsome. Coffee's ready. And thanks for my new lingerie, sweetie!"

Matt sat up in bed, yawning and rubbing his face. "Let's see. Pose for me at the foot of the bed, like yesterday." Compliantly, she removed the robe, spreading her arms and legs to the corners of the bedposts. She felt daring; the half-bra barely covered her nipples, and the panties seemed like half the size of the pair yesterday, barely enclosing the moist puffy lips she'd just shaved. "Today I want you to pose for longer, so let's give you some yoga help." Matt pulled the belt from her robe and wrapped the cord around a wrist, securing it to the post. He went into the bathroom to find his own bathrobe. Waiting, Janice realized she'd been unconsciously rubbing her pussy over a wooden knob located at the top center of the bed's railing. She stopped when Matt returned and tied off her other wrist with his bathrobe belt. At least the stretch hurt her shoulders. It was only right that she suffered physically and not just enjoy the beautiful lingerie without some form of payment.

Realizing she was immobilized, a thrill shot through Janice's stretched body. "Matthew, is this really necessary?"

"I'm afraid so, Mother. This stretch will warm you up for your next yoga class. And now I can have a detailed look at your new ensemble."

"Oh, okay. Do you approve?" She blushed as his gaze lingered over her body. He rubbed his fingers over the front and rear bra straps and all around the panty edges. His touch felt incredible on her chest, shoulder blades, belly and back. She resumed her small movements, subtly humping her mound over the head of the bed knob.

"Yes, Mother. You look incredible." He began to leave the room.

"Honey, where are you going?" she cried.

"Outside to get the paper," he replied in a self-evident tone.

"But you can't leave me like this!" she said, nervous.

"Like what?" he said innocently.

"Tied up! Bound!"

"Mother, what's the big deal? You hold yoga poses for five or ten minutes all the time. This is just another pose to stretch you."

"Oh, yes, I see. . . I guess you're right."

When Matt had not returned after ten minutes, she supposed he was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Humiliated and restless, she kept rubbing her pussy against the bulbous protrusion on the railing and soon she could not stop, gyrating and sweating, twisting faster and harder, moaning and shaking until she orgasmed, a flood of pussy juice inundating the thin slip of panties.

Matt had been peeking around the doorframe, relishing the sight of her masturbating in his bedroom, wearing revealing lingerie and humping the bed railing. Now he noted the glistening skin, the harsh breathing, the hips slightly moving. He entered, pretending to be unaware of what had happened, and untied the disheveled mother, her gorgeous skin glistening with a sheen of perspiration. She was so embarrassed she kept her head down, afraid to make eye contact. She was almost out the door when he said, "Don't you say thank you, Mother?"

"Oh," she said, startled. "Umm, I suppose that. . . Yes, I should. Thank you, Matthew."

"Thank you for?"

"Oh. . . Umm, thank you for stretching me—like in yoga."

"You're welcome. And don't forget to come back tonight before bedtime. Be here at 10 o'clock sharp."

"Yes, son. I won't forget."

* * *

That night, at 10:10, the nubile mother stood in her son's room, clamps reattached to the rear of her baby doll top and briefs, her thighs touching his bedside. Matt was especially excited by the fact that she'd clasped her hands behind her head without him having to instruct her.

The day, including a hard workout at the gym, had been uneventful, but the hours had passed at a slow, tormenting pace. At breakfast, he had asked, "How did you sleep last night, Mother?"

"Not too well," Janice admitted, "since I woke every time I changed position from sleeping on my side to my back." She dared not tell him the other reason for her restless night, that she'd fingered herself to several orgasms by replaying every minute of the scene in his bedroom. She'd permitted her own son to manipulate her lingerie so he could see her breasts and pussy. Her pussy had gushed at the prospects of what lay in store for her the next night. When she'd awoken, she wondered if he would force her into something even more lewd. Certainly, letting herself be tied up by Matt, then thrusting herself against the wood knob on his bed until she climaxed qualified as more lewdness.

"Oh well. In any case, I want you to wear the baby doll in the same way tonight." Her eyes flicked up at his. "Do you understand?" he asked, firmly.

"Yes, Matthew," she said, demurely.

Matt had spent every opportunity that day researching bondage and discipline on the web. He learned a great deal and was beside himself with excitement. But it was new territory and he realized he had to go slowly. He thought about the few dates Janice had reluctantly agreed to in the past couple of years. He'd thought the men were decent enough, but she had been disappointed. When he asked why, she either said they were too old, too drab or too wishy-washy. She said she liked men who were exciting, fun, firm and decisive.

She was hopelessly preoccupied the entire day at work, failing to complete some assignments and making errors in what she did manage.

That night, as she stood facing him, Matt was not lying in bed, but sitting on the edge, wearing only black boxers, his knees outside his mother's thighs. "You're late."

"What do you mean? It's 10:00," she said, lying.

"No it's not, it's 10:10. Why are you late?"

"I forgot — I mean, I didn't notice the time." Matt noted the contradiction in her reply. He suspected she was intentionally late, to test his response.

"It's rude to keep people waiting, and you've now earned yourself a second punishment." He noticed that her breathing increased.

"Have you decided how you're going to. . . discipline me?"

"Yes, but all I'm going to say is that it will hurt." She gasped almost inaudibly. "Now. This baby doll can be even cooler, Mother. Turn around." She rotated, her delectable ass inches from his face. He moved the clamp over her rear till it was at the top of her crack, then forced the thin gauze into her crack, exposing her tawny ass.

"Oh!" she mumbled as his hands touched her ass cheeks. "Matthew, I'm standing here practically naked in front of you."

"No, mother, you're hardly naked. It's like you're wearing a G-string or thong, which a lot of women and girls wear at hip beaches. Besides, it's cooler this way."

Janice was acutely aware that her body was burning up from the lurid experience of being exposed in her son's bedroom. However, Matt had only begun. Grasping the waistband of the panties on both her hips, he pulled up. "Ugghh," she muttered. The gusset embedded itself so deep in her ass crack that her cheeks were totally exposed, but it also pressed on her clit and sank into the slit of her pussy. He tugged again and she moaned with pleasure, the fabric already drenched from her gushing cunt.

"Face me," he said. This time she dared not hesitate. As her front rotated into position, she saw the tent in his underwear. Matt stared at the material that was stuffed into her slit. He could see that the little excess fabric not embedded was saturated with her juices and plastered to her prominent, fleshy lips and clit. Matt was momentarily dumbfounded. None of the girls he'd been with had labia remotely as large as his mother's. "Does that feel cooler?" Ass and pussy burning, she nodded her head, biting her lip, too distracted by the spasms inside her pussy to speak.

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