I am very sorry for my pathetic intrusion on your time. I only wanted to let you know how much it felt to be at the mercy of a strong woman and to thank you for being you.

    Many years ago as a teenager I would root in my mothers dirty linen. This was not because I liked women’s underwear, but more because as a small child I loved my mother and missed her so much when she was working, anything that reminded me of her was a comfort, things just grew from there. It felt so good just to smell her fragrance and the sent of her panties drove me wild. I was always very careful not to get found out, as I always knew when she would come home and I could lock the bathroom door. This went on for some years and I loved the feel of her negligee against my skin.

     On one occasion many summers ago late in the afternoon, I can still recall how I could not wait for her to leave the house and mooched around waiting for her to go, with the heat and excitement of what I was soon to feel, welling up in my loins. As soon as the front door closed behind her I made my way to the bathroom. The house was warm and the sunlight shone through the frosted glass lighting up the room as if it were a church lit through stained glass. I remember still the strong perfume she wore, the room was full of it and this only added to the wonderful sensation.

     I opened the linen basket and tried to see what was in without disturbing anything. The excitement I felt upon realising that wash day was still to come. The basket was full with a whole weeks washing and due to the heat that week the muskiness was unbelievable. I stripped and just ran the silky things against myself and disappeared into a trance. I ran a bath and now the room was moist and musky, with the blind pulled down, but still allowing sunlight to shine through it felt like a tropical paradise. Her cloths were by now lead out on the floor totally covering it and I just lay in them Holding panties to my face and drinking in her essence. I was by now highly aroused and playing with myself. I was dripping pre-cum all over the place my hands were sticky. I put on not one but three pairs of panties, a suspender belt stockings a knee length slip and a bra stuffed with pairs of tights, over which I placed a satin blouse and as I stroked myself through the panties I admired my reflection in the bathroom mirror and thought how stupid I looked , but it still felt good. What happened next was to shape my life forever.

    I heard the front door catch open and the sound of shopping bags in the hall way. My heart nearly stopped as I raced with the reality of what was now happening. Living in a bungalow, the bathroom door was the next to pass down the hall and had I locked the door. My mother was evidently furious that I had no doubt of. As I tried to remove all the clothing in one move I was now in a position of part undress. She glared at me, now wearing a stuffed bra with one arm still in the blouse and panties around my ankles, suspender belt unhooked but hanging from stocking tops at my knees.

   “You fucking dirty little pervert” she screamed and then made a lunge for me. I tried to doge her but it wasn’t easy to move and I felt my hair being pulled my whole body followed across her lap. She slapped me very hard a dozen times on the back of my legs and then began to scream her disgust whilst she used a hairbrush on my arse. I was sobbing uncontrollably and just wanted to die. I was embarrassed and I had upset the person I loved most. She finished her beating, still screaming at me.

  “So you like to wank in my knickers you dirty sod, I’ll teach you.”

          She dragged me to the edge of the bath and drawing my foreskin right back proceeded to scrub my penis with a nail brush. This was the worst form of punishment I could never have imagined. That done she told me to get out of her clothes and put them away where they belonged. I was by now ready to meet my maker and only wanted to run away.

    She sat herself down on the toilet seat and now very calm, asked me why I was doing this and what had gone wrong. I just wanted to make everything ok and eventually I told her of the history and how as a small child I had missed her, and that was all it really was. I said I wasn’t a poof that i can remember very well. But I didn’t feel exactly like John Wayne right at that moment.

   “So you missed the smell and taste of you’re mother did you” she said this in a way that she had never used before, it was sarcastic and very unlike her. As I was trying to find the right words she took a pee; something she would often do when I was a child there was no secrecy in the house, it was just a natural act and we were family.

   “Yes ” I said thinking that I had got off quite lightly. As I spoke she wiped her self, and then again, a full wipe taking in her arse with the panties she had just been wearing and beckoned me to her. She forced them into my open mouth.

    “Well taste that, you filthy little shit”

    I stood before her as she sat on the loo. Still naked my arse and the backs of my legs sore and my cock felt like it was on fire.

   “How does that taste then” she said. “And while you are at it you had better finish off the job you started.”

  She squeezed some hand cream on to her hands and began to stroke my shaft.  “This will take away the pain ” she said. I grew a little hard and then the part that I still can’t believe happened.

    “Come on what are we waiting for, wank for mommy I’m waiting, there’s a good boy”

   I had to bring myself off in front of her, all the time listening to threats of what or who she might tell if I didn’t finish off the “job” as she put it. At first I knew I wouldn’t actually climax. She looked at me and then parted her legs and began to open her blouse. At this I could hold back no longer and I felt the biggest orgasm building up in side me. As I came, my face exploded as my mother gave me the hardest slap I had ever experienced. She pulled the panties from my mouth and said.

    “Now clean yourself up and never wear my cloths again do you understand? We will hear no more of it” It was never mentioned again. But sex was a little different in my eyes from that day on. Yes I did wear some cloths again but this time the scene in my head was a little different.

   I think back to that day often.  I don’t feel my mum was too hard on me and she was always fair, and at least we could talk. I also had a great many wonderful wanks at the thought of “the day I had to.”