Adorable & Naughty Gymnasts
The figure was quite adept at slipping in and out of stores to drop off its mind-controlling panties. It stepped out of its mist, appearing in the mortal world, and entered the department store. It was one of those big block stores, the sort of place that families would go shopping together. It knew that its next target would be here. She would come across these panties. The figure was excited, holding its latest creation, a pair of girlish-looking panties.
It was the style of underwear that would be more at home on a girl half the age of its target. This pair was a bubbly shade of pink and decorated with little hearts. Everything about it looked bright and garish. Including the two words written on the back: Adorable Kitten. They were printed in bright magenta with a little bit of gold glitter speckled over the letters.
They were the sort of panties you'd find in the children's section.
The figure instead went for the young adult area. The place where coed shopped. It slipped in and found a rack decorated with panties dangling from little hooks. They weren't quite as naughty as the ones found in the trendy and hip clothing stores, but they were the sort that would attract its target's attention.
The figured flicked its wrist, draping the girlish panties over a racy pair of red underwear. Its task completed, the figure sauntered away, slipping through the crowds, not noticed by anyone. The figure was nondescript. Unremarkable. No one you'd look at twice.
The figure was halfway to the mist when its target moved into the area. Katerina was eighteen, a lithe and athletic girl, her figure petite. She had small breasts clad in a tank top while a tight pair of skinny jeans hugged her long legs and narrow waist. She moved with the grace of a dancer. Or a gymnast. Her short, brown hair swayed about her face as she pursed her plump lips.
Her eyes fell upon the pair of panties. She'd come to buy a few new pairs herself, not intending to select anything so childish. She shuddered when she saw them and snatched them up, stroking them. They were so adorable. They made her feel so girlish. She let out a little squeal as she touched them. Tingles raced through her and--
"What are those?" her mother, Sasha Bell, demanded.
Before Katerina could answer, Sasha had yanked the panties from her daughter's hands. The older woman had blonde hair, her body just as petite and lithe. She was still beautiful, possessing the high cheekbones and accent of a Russian woman. Her face had a doll's delicateness save for her fierce, blue eyes. The older woman stared at these panties, a tingle racing through her.
"What are you, eight?" Sasha demanded of her daughter. "Buy something more your age. Like that cute thong. Why would you pick up these?"
"Sorry, Mama," Katerina said. She always obeyed her mother. Everyone in the family did. Sasha Bell was not a woman that you defied. If you pleased her, you were rewarded. However...
The figure froze right before it entered its mist, sensing something had gone awry. The wrong target had picked up its panties. The magic was already working, affecting the wrong woman. The figure had no idea what would happen now. Would the magic work as intended, or would there be unexpected consequences?
Intrigued by the possibilities, the figure stepped into the mist to wait and find out.
* * *
Sasha Bell
"Goddamn," my husband Mitch groaned as my pussy finished milking his dick dry. "That was incredible, Sasha."
I smiled down at him, my blonde hair swaying about my face. My small breasts were quivering as the pleasure of my orgasm rippled through me. "See, you do something nice for me, and I make you explode."
He chuckled. "You know I like fixing things that go wrong. You don't have to pay me with pussy every time."
"But it's my duty," I said. I was raised very strictly. My mother never spoke a word of English to me, but she was full of aphorisms.
"A happy wife is one with a happy husband. Happy husband is one getting plenty of pussy. If it is not your pussy, it will be another woman's pussy. You want that, my little Sasha?"
I took it to heart. My husband never had cause to complain.
I glanced at the clock and swore. "It's already that late?"
"Well, you did insist on me eating your pussy first," Mitch said. He had this look of triumph in his eyes, proud that he made me cum while eating my twat. He always did.
"That was all you," I said.
"You
begged to eat my pussy."
"Well, can you blame me? You taste so damn good."
I laughed as I rose off my husband's cock. I needed to get going. I had to teach my gymnastics class. Our daughter, Katerina, was one of my four pupils in my weekly afternoon session. They were all promising girls. All on their own college's teams but wanted extra training to be even better. None would get beyond the state level, sadly. Though Katerina was better than I had achieved at her age.
I was proud of her.
I darted to my dresser, realizing there wasn't time to shower. Not even time to clean my pussy out. I had to get going. I ripped open my panty drawer and grabbed the first pair I found. I felt a wicked tingle racing through me as I thrust my feet into them. I dragged them halfway up before I realized which pair I had selected.
It was that girlish pair of panties I'd snagged out of Katerina's hands two weeks ago. I hadn't even realized I had taken them out of the store, only discovering them shoved in my purse when we got home. Not knowing what else to do, I had thrust them into my panty drawer. I'd meant to take him back, I wasn't a thief, but now...
It was too late. I worked them up, shaking my hips, feeling the tingle intensify across my body. I shuddered as I seated them across my rump.
"Adorable kitten?" my husband asked with amusement.
"What?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at him. "What foolishness are you talking about?"
"You're the one wearing the panties for an eight-year-old girl," he said." That's a little... weird. I didn't think we'd go beyond schoolgirl role-play. Not sure I'm comfortable pretending you're someone
that
young."
"I just grabbed the first pair. Don't worry." I smiled at him. "But if you want, I can put my hair in pigtails again, don that pleated skirt, and you can fuck me hard when I get home. I'll be all hot and sweaty and needing a massage. You can be my naughty coach and teach me a lesson."
"Goddamn," groaned Mitch. "You know I have to work tonight."
I pouted at him. "Poor you. Well, when you get home, maybe you can slip into our room, find me sleeping, and molest me. I'll be wearing my innocent, little nightie, just all vulnerable and--"
"If you don't get out of here, I'll throw you down on the bed and molest you right now," he said. "Damn, you're feisty today."
I laughed as I grabbed a sports bra and slipped it on. It was good to leave my husband wanting more and knowing that when he returned to me, he would be getting the satisfaction he needed. Another of my mother's lessons.
I slipped into my yoga pants and a tank top, my blonde hair swaying about my shoulders. I darted out of the bedroom and headed downstairs. I was so eager to see all the girls I coached. They were also cute. So adorable.
A hot shudder ran through me as I thought about the four of them.
I sped to get to the college gymnasium for my girls' gymnastic practice. I squirmed in the seat, feeling my husband's cum soaking into the childish panties I wore. I couldn't believe I had grabbed them. My cheeks burned just thinking about what I wore. They were something that belonged on my girls.
My adorable girls were so cute as they pranced about in their leotards.
I licked my lips, this naughty delight surging through me. They were all so cute in their own ways. Like kittens. I just wanted to pet their hair and kiss their forehead and pat their rumps before sending them out to do their tumbles and flips and twirls and all the other delights that gymnastics had to offer. They were all beautiful, of course, eighteen or nineteen, nubile and delicious. You didn't do gymnastics without having a toned and slender body. Petite. Vanessa had the largest breasts of them all, and she was only a C-cup.
I pictured them prancing and frolicking around the floor in their leotards, my daughter Katerina at the lead. She had short, brown hair she'd inherited from my husband and my plump lips. Her small breasts always looked perfect in a leotard, just the right amount of perkiness to show that she was a woman while not doing anything to upset her balance.
Thea was a Black girl, the tallest of the group, with a short, frizzy hair that gave her this wild look. Thea had this energy about her that was intense, her heart-shaped face full of her determination. Her coffee-brown skin set her apart from the others.
Vanessa, the bustiest of the three girls (if you could even say that), had the cutest butt. Her leotard always clung to her peachy ass perfectly. She wore her black hair in a braid that fell stiffly down her back. It didn't move much at all, keeping it out of any danger of getting caught.
The last girl was, sadly, my most hopeless student. Molly had all the enthusiasm for gymnastics, but she was also a tad clumsy. That was a bad trait to have for a gymnast. She was a redhead, her hair was cut short like my daughter's, her green eyes bright. Her happy smile, igniting the dimples in her freckled cheeks, always made me feel just a little bit better about myself. She just had an infectious joy about her. You could never be sad around Molly.
I pulled up into the college's parking lot and jumped out of my car. My yoga pants clung to me, my breasts jiggling in my sports bra. My tits were barely C-cups, not even my pregnancy with Katerina had swelled them up that much. I kept myself in great shape, my body as athletic as my girls'.
I was almost as limber, too.
They were just at the perfect age for doing gymnastics. After that, joints started getting sore, muscles pulled easier, and you just couldn't quite compete at the same level.
I grabbed my duffel bag and sauntered towards the gym door. I opened it up and smiled to see that the girls had already set out the large tumbling mats. They were in their leotards, each of them wearing a different color. My daughter's was pink, hugging her body. Thea had a bright-red one that contrasted with her skin and Vanessa's was an electric blue. Molly's wore a gray one that matched her leg warmers.
"You're almost late, Coach Bell," Thea said, grinning at me.
Katerina shot Thea a look. My daughter then just smiled at me. "Hi, Mom, how was your day?"
