Mother stormed into my room and threw the dirty clothes basket on my bed. Then she charged right up to me with a pair of white silky panties in her hand, shaking them at me.
"Did you think I wouldn't notice your cum on my panties?" She threw them at my face.
"Mom, I don't know what..."
"Don't even start with that bullshit!" She took the panties back in her hand and found the spot, stiff with my cum, and literally rubbed my nose in it.
I whimpered, "I was hoping it would just wash out."
"That's not the point! These are my nicest panties, and now I can't even wear them without imagining your little dicklet sliding in and out of them! How do you think that makes me feel?"
I knew how it made me feel. She had burst in on me during my Saturday morning ritual, which was fortunately under covers. But even now I was wearing another of her favorite pair. I hoped to God she wouldn't yank off the sheets.
I was already hard. But I stiffened up even more when she talked about my little dick. I don't know when she would have seen it recently, but she always said I took after my dad, so maybe she was making an assumption.
"I am so mad I could just choke you!" And my dick throbbed at the idea. My mother was a tall woman, Germanic descent, and she was strong. I was four inches shorter than her and a fraction of her weight. If she wanted to overpower me, it would be no contest.
She had been leaning over me, in my face, and now she stood back and took a deep breath, still holding the panties. "From now on, YOU will be doing the laundry. ALL of it."
"Okay."
"What did you say? O-fucking-kay??"
"I mean, Yes Ma'am."
She narrowed her eyes. Uh-oh. She took in the whole scene, me in bed with the covers pulled up to my chin, both arms beneath.
"What are you doing under there?"
I didn't answer. My asshole puckered up and I started shivering.
She grabbed the bedspread and pulled it off in one motion, spilling the basket and the dirty clothes all over the floor. She pulled the sheets off after, and there I was in nothing but her blue silky panties, my hand still inside them. I was terrified.
She just stared at me. I couldn't move. I could see her taking deep breaths, her oversized t-shirt rising and falling with her generous breasts. I just held my dick, not stroking it, almost protecting it, like she might just rip it off.
Mother had never hit me. But she never had to. And she didn't usually even raise her voice at me. That's why today was so frightening. I had crossed a line and was seeing the angry side of her. Dad had not been in the picture for a long time. But the last time I saw her this angry, it was the day she kicked him out.
I was a good kid, and made good grades all the way through high school. But this summer had been stressful for both of us, since I was leaving for university at the end of the month. And I got the feeling that all that good behavior didn't count for shit right now.
She took it all in. Then she made some kind of decision, and calmly tossed the white pair at my crotch, then bent over and picked up the laundry basket and said, "Those are yours now. I don't want them back, so you won't be needing these..." As she said that, she walked over to my dresser and opened my underwear drawer, and raked all my briefs into the basket. Then she rounded up my sheets and bedspread and piled them in the basket too.
"No more covering up," she said. Then she walked out the door, leaving it open.
As soon as she was gone, I jumped off the bed and closed the door. I grabbed some dirty gym shorts from the floor and put them on over the panties, and a dirty t-shirt. I'd never worn her panties as underwear before. I had only used them to jack off. So the silky feeling inside the gym shorts was a pleasant surprise.
I was gathering up the rest of the dirty clothes from the floor when she came back into my room without knocking. She had a screwdriver and a hammer in her hands.
"I said no more covering up. Take off those dirty clothes."
She watched me take them off. My little dick made a pup tent in her panties, I mean my panties. She stared at it, which just made it harder.
Then without saying another word, she turned and proceeded to use the tools to take my door off the hinges. I started to say something, but her eyes were daggers when I opened my mouth, so I just stood there beside the bed and the dirty clothes.
When she finished, she told me to take the door down to the basement, and then to come into the kitchen for breakfast.
I got the door put away and entered the kitchen. She had a plate ready for me, pop-tarts and bacon, my favorite. I went to pull up a chair, but she pointed to a stool she had pulled away from the bar. I sat there, my crotch at eye level with her while she ate toast and jam. I stayed hard the whole time.
When she was done eating, she said, "You seem excited to be wearing nothing but your panties in front of your mother." It wasn't a question. "Just so I understand, when you masturbate in your panties, do you think of boys, or do you think of girls?"
Most of the time, I thought of her. But I wasn't ready to say that outright.
"Girls," I replied. Though I wondered if big-dicked trannies counted. And then I risked saying, "Women really. Strong, dominant older women."
"Hmphhh," she said, and I couldn't tell what to make of that.
"Strong, dominant older women would make you do things."
"That's right. I mean, Yes Ma'am."
"And you like that."
I hesitated, then admitted, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Call me 'Mother'."
"Yes, Mother."
"Finish your breakfast. Then do the dishes and the laundry. I have some things I need to take care of."
"Yes, Mother."
She was gone for several hours. She came back in the house with a large bag from an electronics store. It was a set of internet video cameras. She laid them out on the kitchen table and then asked me, "Where do you masturbate?"
Fuck. Everywhere? What the fuck? "Uhmm, in my bed, in the shower, and sometimes in front of the living room TV."
She proceeded to place cameras in those three places. She had two more cameras that she may have hidden somewhere. Then she followed the written instructions and downloaded an app on her phone and synched them up.
I was mortified. Mother was taking away all my privacy and making it impossible for me to masturbate. It was going to be a very long month. I wanted to storm off to my room and slam my door, but that wasn't an option! I thought about retreating down to the basement, but I knew that anywhere I went, she would just expose me there too.
Yes, I was mortified. But I was also as hard as a little rock. If I ever got the chance to touch myself, I would explode!
I sulked the rest of the day. And the next day. I read a book. She went about her business. We had leftovers for dinner both nights. My dick was hard most of the time, because I couldn't stop thinking about what she was doing to me, how she had suddenly taken control. I thought about being free at the end of the month, but then I started wondering if that's what I really wanted.
Before I went to bed the next night, I came to her in the living room. She was sitting on the couch and I stood in front of her. I asked her, "Why don't you want me to masturbate any more? I'm nineteen years old! It's a normal thing for guys my age to do! I'm really sorry I ruined your panties, but haven't I been punished enough?" But even as I was begging, she was watching my dick get hard.
"I never said you couldn't masturbate. I said 'no more covering up'. No more hiding from your Mother. No more hiding anything. She reached out and pulled down my panties. My little dick sprung out, confirming what she had said about its size.
"Step out of your panties," she said, and I did. She took them in her right hand.
"Go ahead. Masturbate," she said. "Just use your thumb and one finger, that should be enough."
"Can I use the panties?" I begged.
"No, then I can't see your little clit. I'll catch your cummies in the panties and you can put them back on," and she held them out in front of my pee hole, but low enough so she could see everything.
I looked down at her face, and the only thing that gave her away was that her mouth slightly opened when I began stroking. That's when I realized this wasn't about punishment at all, except to the degree that punishment excited us both.
"Yes, Mother," I said, as I continued to stroke. I wouldn't last long, and she wouldn't expect me to last long. I could see her tongue just against her teeth as she watched. I believe she wanted to suck on it, to flick it with her tongue to bite down a little and pinch my balls. I pictured that as I was about to cum. She didn't say that I needed her permission, but I wanted her permission. "Can I cum, Mother?"