Mummy’s in Charge


Theodoracopulos Athanasiou came out of his room at his mother’s voice.

“Tinkerbell, darling! We have a problem!”

Tink was 20 years old when his mother began sissifying and punishing him. He hated being called

“Tinkerbell” but he was absolutely hypnotized by his mother’s beauty!

Tink came downstairs, and Mummy was holding a soiled Kleenex in one hand, and a “Victoria’s Secret” catalogue in the other.

“I am afraid, Tink, darling, that you have erred again. Undress please.”

Tink gasped, and began blubbering

“Mommy, I’m sorry, it isn’t mine, Kostaris—”

But Mummy smiled grimly.

“Kostaris isn’t able to touch his dinkie, darling, remember?

You have the only unlocked one in the house. Undress now, before Mummy becomes very agitated.”

Tink undressed, carefully folding his polo shirt and khakis and putting them on an overstuffed pink brocade chair in Mummy’s parlor.

Slowly, he walked over to Mummy, and leaned over to grab his ankles, the position taken for a whipping in Mummy’s house.

“No no, darling.” Mummy said.

“We’ve tried whipping your naughty buttocks for illicit masturbation before, but now we’re going to go to the root of the matter. Stand straight up, darling.”

What would she do?

Shave his head?

Make him dance naked in front of the neighborhood cheerleaders? Mouse-trap his nipples…she’d done those…oh God, she was looking at his…oh no!

Tink gasped.

She was going to whip his dick!

Oh, no…his brothers had advised him to get out of punishments like this if he could…

“Hold still, Tink, we’ll get this over with quickly.” Mother said soothingly.

As Mother, auburn haired and resplendent in a purple tiered organdie gown ran a long magenta nail across Tink’s timorous penis.

“What’s wrong, don’t be shy little pee-pee,” Mother said as she played her fingers across her son’s lengthening cock.

“After all, you were shooting your messy out just a few hours ago while you were looking at those naughty pictures!”

“Mummy I am so sorry…”

But Mother ignored Tink, and continued her ministrations on his tumescent member.

“Look at this, Tinkerbell For shame, to be so excited when your own Mummy is touching you like this.

Although this happened last week when I had you on Diaper Punishment…your older sister told me that when she was changing you, your incestuous little wee-wee got hard…what a bad boy.”

Tink blushed with shame, but it did not keep his penis from growing even further, as Mother toyed and tickled it, and played with his balls.

“You understand, darling, that I have to make your penis all stiff and hard before I can give it an effective whipping, don’t you?”

Before Tink could respond, there was a halt to a slight creaking noise downstairs.

This meant that Dad had paused from running on the 12 foot hamster wheel. It had been quite a promotion to build a giant cage and wheel, and Dad, Spiro Jr., Kostaris and Tink all did at least an hour on it, running the wheel naked every day.

Mother’s cruel mouth, brightly varnished with Red Revolution Lip-gloss twisted in a rage.

She picked up her blackthorn coppice knobbed walking stick that had created welts on Tink’s buttocks so many times, and thundered it against the floor, loudly.

Hastily, the creaking continued, and quickly, Dad knew better than to be slacking off.

Tink imagined him down there, his naked pot belly jiggling as he ran unhappily on the huge wheel.

“Normally your sister or your Aunt Cassiopea would be here to supervise your Daddy’s running, with a nice dog-whip, but no one is available.”

Mother muttered this to herself, but then she brightened.

“Anyway, now, Tink darling your wee-wee is all excited over Mummy stroking you, what a good boy.”

Mother rubbed Tink’s penis harder.

“And now you are such a stiffie, go fetch my fiberglass crop from where it is soaking in the tub, please, dear.”

Mother had early learned that a crop sung more after sitting in a bathtub filled with freezing cold water. She knew how to make it really do an impact…yes, she did.

“P-please Mummy don’t whip my penis.”

Tink pleaded. I-I’ll try to stop masturbating please don’t whip me—”

But Mother’s emerald eyes glittered.

“Tinkerbell honey, I’ve tried everything else to keep our4 nasty paws off your penis.

I’ve put broken glass in your athletic jock strap, I’ve whipped your knuckles and palms bloody.

I’ve made you gargle with Clorox, and then gasoline,. I even tied you to the electric fence for purification. But you are a filthy minded little pervert!”

“I understand the common wisdom is that adolescent male onanism is normal and healthy, but that is not what the Good Book says.

We are going to nip this little habit of yours in the bud. Unless, of course you desire me to lock you in chastity like Daddy and your brothers, that might quell temptation.”

Mother looked searchingly at Tink….

And topkapı escort Tink gasped and ran to the bathroom quickly fetching the soggy fiberglass crop. He didn’t want to be locked in a chastity device!

At least now Tink could jerk off in the college lavatory, and perhaps in the gym showers…

Yes, and once or twice he’d had relations with a girl from the university church group!

On the rare occasions Tink was allowed to go to a friend’s house, he could go in the bathroom and wank his Willy all he liked…

Ah but at home all the doors were locked, and Mummy was strict about timing bathroom trips, and of course you had to chart how many wees and how many “sticks” you’d emitted.

And Mother only allowed three squares of toilet tissue per bathroom trip, if you needed more, she’d give you an enema.

Mother was quite the environmentalist, and didn’t want the commode clogged up with a lot of toilet paper…

Mother also severely limited the trips to the restroom, believing boys had to learn to keep strict bladder and bowel control…

Yes,there was a lot of jumping up and down for the boys in their family!

But as bad as it was for Tink, Kostaris had it worse…

Kostaris, just a year older and also a student at the college was fully locked in chastity and was only allowed to jerk off at Christmas and his birthday…

Holiday masturbation was a luxury that Mother very reluctantly permitted as long as Kostaris made a 4.0 in school.

At Christmas last year he’d only had a 3.8, and had gotten gym socks for his birthday instead…it had been a miserable holiday for him!

And, of course, Kostaris’s chastity device precluded urination.

Only Mother or one of the aunts or sisters could unlock the device so poor Kostaris could pee…

God knew, Tink didn’t want to be like his poor brother who ran home, screaming with pain, both for lunch, and right after football practice!

Now, Tink brought the fiberglass cup to Mummy and she took it, smiling.

“Excellent, Tinkerbell. Now, darling, you need to stand with your hands on your head, and you must keep them there whatever the pain—unless of course you think you need to be cuffed.”

Tink shook his head vigorously.

“I will be a little man and take the pain, Mummy.”

Mother beamed.

“That’s a good boy Tink. Close your eyes now, I don’t want you to miss the suspense.”

Tink closed his reluctant eyelids, and bit his lower lip.

Suddenly he felt a scented kerchief being wrapped around his eyes. Oh no, a bandanna. Just in case he opened his eyes, Mother had it all covered.

This would be so scary.

Mummy’s slender fingers grasped his rod and gently she scraped the nails across his shivering glans.

Tink tried not to think of Mother’s swelling cleavage and her full saucy lips, the bouncing henna curls against her alabaster skin.

And of course, his penis swelled even further.

Suddenly her fingers swiftly vanished and Tink heard a swish, and s thin, scorching line of fire lashed across his thickened organ.

Did Spiro Create a Monster?

As Spiro Valiunas Athanasiou, Senior lumbered unhappily crawling on his hands and knees on the unforgiving steel bars of the giant hamster wheel, he wondered when life had gotten so weird.

In 1984, Spiro’s life was a train wreck; A dissipated wino playboy, addicted to cocaine and prostitutes…

Spiro had nearly brought the chain of “Olympic Appetite Diners” that his immigrant grandfather had spread across the Pacific Northwest into bankruptcy…

But he’d become engaged to a miracle woman! Beautiful, curly hair, and a shape that stopped traffic, his former typist became Spiro’s world.

And then Spiro told her of his secret fantasies.

“You want to be spanked, really?” his fiancée asked.

“Spiro, that’s a little odd, but I’m glad to oblige you.”

It was odd—Spiro’s parents, enthusiastic Seventies therapy-heads, had never raised a hand to him.

Their headstrong spoiled offspring had merrily gone through motorcycles, expensive cars, and fresh schools to be expelled from, what’s another wrecked Beemer, or another outraged headmaster, or a treatment center giving him an Administrative Discharge for non-compliance?


But Spiro, probably feeling a subconscious need for discipline, had been visiting dominatrixes since his mid teens, Pop’s Platinum Visa could easily afford it…but Spiro’s first two wives had recoiled from kinky stuff…

But his bride-to be seemed like the type he could try it out on, and he was right! Almost too right.

The girl was eager, there was no doubt.

All right, Big Boy, I’ll use this hairbrush since I don’t want to mess up my nice manicure by hand-whacking you.

I’m good at spanking, don’t worry. I had to raise my younger siblings, because Mom had two jobs, and when my brothers pissed me off, they ended up having to stand up and eat at the mantel, the pain was so bad…whee!”

Spiro türbanlı escort gasped. “Babe, I don’t—” this was getting out of hand, really. His betrothed was looking a little malevolent, tapping the hairbrush against her leather miniskirt.

“Um, I don’t know honey, it—”

“No no, call me Mummy. It’s nice and British. Don’t use my name, no honey or babe. You’re a naughty boy, and I’m Mummy from now on.

This will be good for you, Spiro, you were tossed out of the Air Force for being too much of a slacker, and you were way in debt on your credit card bills and your alimony and child support before I cut up your Visa, and made you do a budget.

Now get over here!”

As Spiro quivered, “Mummy” pulled him to her and unbuckled his trousers.

“A good bare-bottom thrashing will clear up your cluttered head. “

As Spiro tried to move back, Mummy reached up from where she was sitting on the bed and grabbed Spiro by the ear, while her other hand yanked his boxer shorts to his knees.

Mummy swung Spiro’s ear down, and he fell across her lap.

“Oooh, I feel a hard-on you bad boy.”

It was true, Spiro was excited to have his penis against Mummy’s fishnet stockings.

But suddenly he felt a whack, harshly right across the crack of his pink bottom. And then, it came again, harder.

Spiro had felt uneasiness, and some arousing humiliation at being punished half naked by his clothed girlfriend…

Ah, but he forgot all that in the feeling of the hot sting of the rather large hairbrush, wielded by his intended, who he now must call “Mummy”.

“Embrace the pain, darling” Mummy said cheerfully as she paddled Spiro’s buttocks again and again.

“Please, Mummy, no more!”

Spiro felt like he had a nuclear war going on at his rear, and he was kicking his legs, entangled as they were in his bunched up trousers.

As the pain grew, he tried to remember what safe word he used to use with the professional Mistresses,

But there was none for Mummy!

So, in panic then Spiro attempted to arise from her lap, but his tiny 100 pound lady just grabbed his left arm and twisted it behind his back, and continued her earnest work with the hairbrush.

“Goodness, Spiro, you are crying like a little bitch, and your butt is the color of a plum…maybe it’s time to let you up. But this was fun!”

Mummy pushed Spiro off her knees, and watched him stand, blubbering, in front of her.

Mummy reached out and toyed with his cock, poking hesitantly between his shirttails.

Mummy’s red nails tickled and toyed with Spiro’s lengthening member, and he began to quit weeping and start panting.

Mummy grinned.

“You’re not mad at Mummy? That’s right, you can’t use my name anymore. I’m Mummy now, and you are barely worthy of it.

Fun having a Mummy who’s only twenty-four, isn’t it, you middle aged perv?”

Mummy shook her head as poor Spiro began sobbing again at her fresh insult.

“Now, calm down baby, look, Mummy’s going to take off her top, and her lacy little demi bra and let you kiss her boobies!”

They made wild love that night, fucking and sucking until dawn.

The spanking became a regular prelude to sex (It really made Spiro excited after the crying was done)

Sometimes Mummy would hold an ice pack to Spiro’s damaged buttocks while she sucked his cock!

It was true that Mummy hit much harder than the hired professional girls, but as she said, “You want authenticity, don’t you?”

But then, after they married, Mummy began indulging in disturbing pillow talk, calling Spiro her “little crybaby bitch”.

Yes, and eventually she insisted on riding Spiro on top, telling him he was not really man enough to mount her.

And then, annoyed that Spiro kept reaching up to fondle her full pink breasts during lovemaking, she tied his hands behind his back so all he could do was look up as she shook them over his face.

“Like seeing these titties, you little faggot, don’t think I’ll let you touch them.

Who do you think you are, a man? No, you’re merely a male, if that.”

Mummy was somewhat of a chain smoker, and while she rode Spiro’s dick, and he writhed in the bonds which trapped his wrists…

Mummy began flicking the sparks from her Lucky Strikes into his eyes and all over his face, so he had to constantly close his eyes and look away…but it never lessened the intensity in his penis!

After she’d finish one, she’d put it out, stubbing it painfully on one of Spiro’s nipples or on his stomach. It hurt, but it did make for memorable screwing!

After a time, Mummy lost interest in giving Spiro blowjobs, but oral sex was still required on her end.

Mummy would often ride up and down Spiro’s cock slowly, teasing him, and ordering him not to cum until she had had three orgasms on his rigid rod.

Then, when she was satiated, Mummy would allow Spiro to spurt into her vagina, and then crawl off his cock and ride his face until he had cleaned her tüyap escort out.

“You’re like a human bidet, honey.”

And the corporal punishment prelude to sex stayed the same for a bit, but then the whole “pull down your pants aphrodisiac changed a bit, perhaps Mummy wanted to expedite it, or something.

Soon, when she felt horny, Mummy just ordered Spiro to strip, and then she would cuff his hands and lay him on his stomach on the bed, using a razor strop she’d inherited from “Momma” until her arm was exhausted.

“The hairbrush is nice, but I think the strop is far more effective, it seems to get your attention, Spiro.”

Then, after Mummy garnered the first drop of blood on Spiro’s anguished ass, Mummy would turn him over on the bed, strip off her clothes and hop on Spiro’s face, ordering him to lick her to several preemptory orgasms.

This before she’d move down his body to mount his now hard penis.

After a time, Mummy’s sexual appetite grew, and she demanded that Spiro fuck her two eight or nine orgasms before she’d allow him to finally erupt into her clitoral folds.

And then of course she crawled back to his face and Spiro had to lick Mummy’s clit clean before she’d climb off him and unlock his cuffs.

One day Spiro came home from work and Mummy was wearing what appeared to be a black one piece bathing suit.

Upon closer inspection the suit appeared to be a leather PVC corset that covered Spiro’s wife from her thigh tops to just above her swelling cleavage.

It was sexy as hell, and Spiro was shaking from his knees up…

Also, Mummy’s hair was tied back in a forbidding bun, and she was tapping the razor strop in her left hand.

“Take off your clothes, Spiro. I’m really pissed at you.

You forgot to do the dishes before you left this morning.” Lately Spiro somewhat instinctively had been doing more and more of the housecleaning.

Mummy had pensioned off the housekeeper, saying she didn’t want to make the woman be a “slave of the male patriarchy”

And she was way too busy herself to clean…Spiro had encouraged Mummy to get her GED and to enroll in college, as although Mummy was quite well read, she had had to quit school after the 9th grade to help support her family after her mother had passed.

So Spiro was making breakfast before leaving work in the morning but he had had an important corporate meeting and had forgotten to do the dishes.

Mummy up until now had only whipped Spiro as part of their sex play, and an actual punishment whipping was a new thing, but Spiro had had a feeling it might be coming.

Things had gotten a little rougher in the bedroom—recently Spiro had been fucking Mummy to her 12th orgasm, and told her that he couldn’t hold back his own shot.

By now, Mummy often had Spiro fuck her to many orgasms, but not get to cum every time himself, just every few times, as a way to stay in shape…and excited.

So it had been very difficult, and this last time Spiro was too excited, and when he told Mummy he couldn’t control his orgasm, Mummy had reached behind her perch on Spiro’s hips and punched him in the balls.

“You can’t control yourself” Mummy had said, “and you are slothful.” She had punched him a second time and said “You only think of your own desires, so selfish.” This had not only been a problem for her relationship with Spiro…as a stepmother, she was quite strict, and Mummy was.

Spiro had one son from his previous marriage, Spiro Junior, affectionately called “Spinner”.

After Spinner’s mother had died from a heroin overdose, Mummy had agreed to let Spiro bring his adult son to live with them.

And Spiro had noticed that Mummy was almost as hard on Spinner as she was on Spiro, whipping the boy’s bare buttocks for seemingly small infractions.

When he’d objected, Mummy had replied “Your son is slothful, just like you are, and I’m going to nip that in the bud.” This cold response had quieted Spiro immediately.

Strangely, Spinner, in spite of the strict discipline, was fond of his new stepmother, and when the boy had been given a chance to live with his permissive and indulgent grandparents, he’d preferred to stay where he was.

But the day that Spiro came home to an angry, corseted wife and unfinished dirty dishes, Spinner was at a violin lesson, and Mummy was ordering Spiro to strip for the strop!

After a particularly vicious whipping, Spiro had thought it would be sex time, but Mummy had pulled him off the bed by the left nipple and dragged him to the hall closet.

“You are being punished so there’s no sex for you.”

Spiro still snuffling crouched in the hot clothes closet and waited. He heard Spinner coming home after about an hour, and there were noises of dinner being made and eaten.

Yes, and then Spinner was playing “Turkey in the Straw”, showing Mummy the efforts of his lesson.

Just after this there had been anguished screams from Spinner, and then some crying, evidently Mummy was displeased with her stepson’s progress.

Then Spin apparently was packed off to for his seven p.m. bedtime, and then Mummy was watching television for about three hours.

Finally around midnight, Mummy had unlocked the closet door and pulled poor, befuddled, sweating Spiro (who had been sitting just under a fur coat) out of the closet.

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