Submission Heaven Ch. 02

"Now, now. You know what you have to say. Assume the position and say it properly."

I knelt in front of my mom, her crossed legs so close to me as she dangled her heel on her nyloned foot.

"Mommy...can I make a piddle?"

"No."

She paused, looking at me straight in the eyes, the hint of a smile on her face while denying me.

I saw her fingers slide slowly down her arches, and she removed her heels. One, *clack*, after another, her heels fell and my aching dick became even harder, as I admired her feet in the sweaty, sheer tan hose I loved so much.

She raised her soles in front of me, just a breath from my face.

"And now..." she said, addressing me in the tone that sounded more like a teacher speaking to a kid. She was expecting something.

Through the haze of my excitement came an impulse of discipline, as I recalled what I had to say.

"Thank you", I said, and I proceeded to give one kiss on each of her soles. I pressed my lips against the warm hose, filling myself with her scent while kissing.

A subtle grin appeared on her face. She had taken time to explain how I'd have to behave in great detail, and she was pleased I was complying.

Then she suddenly withdrew and put her heels back on.

"Now go prepare dinner" she said, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek, as she left the living room "I have some calls to make."

* * *

Still kneeling, trembling with excitement and with my dick hot and leaky in my boxers, I got up.

It was now the third day since I last orgasmed, spewing a whole load on myself under my mother's feet. The day after that I had nervously asked her to "take care" of me, but I was severely scolded in return.

"This is unpolite, disrespectful and creepy, dear. You'll have to start speaking properly" she said.

She instructed me on how to address a woman correctly. At first, my mind rebelled against the "piddle" thing, but now my balls were full and I could offer little resistance.

I had thought about secretly jerking off...maybe if I was careful, hiding all the traces... no. I knew she had a way of looking at me in the eyes and just extract the truth. I couldn't risk it. The memory of that orgasm was still too strong and my mom was clearly trying to teach me how to get better with women.

"Your pleasure should only come after you've pleased your her..." her words echoed in my mind.

I was doing my best to welcome my mom as she came back home and to clean the house; I was cooking dinner and cleaning afterwards.

The days passed slowly. I didn't dare going to the university: I couldn't have faced Gwen, not after she had shown me all the guys she was fucking while we were dating. I turned off notifications for messages. I wanted to distract myself, but my gaming laptop was in my mother's hands for punishment for my grades, and for sure I couldn't look at porn. I couldn't risk to cum.

I feared what would become of my university life, of my social life. To be "the one cheated on", while Gwen would keep doing as she pleased. That goddamn bitc...

Hold on. You should stop with these toxic thoughts...

I surprised myself thinking this, and feeling...guilt. Wait, was I starting to feel guilty for her?

* * *

That night, I was allowed to touch and smell, but not to lick. I sat on the couch, right where I was when I came all over myself a few days earlier. Once again, I was massaging my mom's feet, trying to gather an ounce of focus to avoid any...spill, like the last time.

"Dinner was wonderful sweetheart...if only you took this much effort in your studies..." she said. She gave me a disappointed smile, then turned back to watch the tv show. It was about a group of women in the big city, their shopping and their love life; in a few words, the most girly thing imaginable. After seasons upon seasons of watching it just to peep on my mom's feet in the evening, I have to say I grew attached to the characters and their feelings.

I kept my head down, too ashamed to look at her, and I kept going at her feet. She had been busy until now and was still in her office attire: a satin shirt tucked into her pencil skirt, and expensive black heels. After a whole day wearing them, her feet had a deep, alluring scent. When she laid on the couch my heart skipped a bit, as I was able to distinguish her stocking tops peeking from under the skirt.

I was surprised, and a bit scared, of finding out how much this humiliating station was arousing me. There, after being unable to cum for three days, massaging my mother's feet while she ignored me, I felt the most excited I'd ever been in my life. Excited, and desperate.

This made me incautious. With my nose among her toes, I couldn't stop a whisper.

"Mommy please can I piddle? Please..."

I froze, hoping she didn't notice this pitiful display and my general trembling. Why did I have to ask again?

She took her gaze on me.

"What did you say?"

I feared her reaction. She told me she would have not allowed insistent behaviours.

"N-nothing"

"Would you like mommy to play with you?"

"N-no, it doesn't matter..."

My answer surprised her. And amused her. She looked at me as an artist does with her work, and she seemed pleased with the shape it was taking.

"Good." she smiled warmly, and once again switched to ignoring me.

What if I'd said yes? Denied and wanting, I kept sitting in silence, serving her. I wanted to lick her soles, to savour the taste of her toes like the other night, but she expressly forbid it.

I needed to cum, and my mind was flooded with possibilities. I could have snuck out into the bathroom, that night, to get off quickly and go back to bed...maybe I could have practiced the lie in front of the mirror:

Yes mommy, I've not made a piddle since you told me not to...of course...

"Oh, yes baby, just like that..." my mom took me out of my thoughts. I was starting to become good at massaging her feet, and her rare compliments filled me with joy.

"Now that you've been a good boy... I think you're ready for another lesson"

I held my breath. Was this going to be a punishment, or...

"Strip for me"

My heart skipped a beat. I rested her feet on the small pillow next to me, slowly stood up and started removing my clothes. She took her phone and pointed it at me.

"I'm going to record some of our time together, so that we can appreciate your progress. Come on, go ahead"

My progress? And yet, it indicated that she had given a lot of thought on this matter...how many lessons did she already have in mind?

I stripped of everything but my boxers. My dick was hot and stiff but I was ashamed to show it. The way my mom called it...

"What's wrong, baby? Don't you want to bring out Pinky Pinky to play?" and she chuckled.

Another blow. I started to tear up, but then again, I was hyper aware of the phone filming me. I eventually slipped out of the boxers and stood there naked, vulnerable and humiliated. I was trembling a bit, and my heart was beating hard in my chest.

"Oh, quick, Chris, you're going to stain the carpet..." and she pointed at my dicklette: it was leaking a globe of precum. I caught it, looking around for a place to get rid of it.

"Why don't you taste it, sweetie?"

I stood there, confused.

"But mom..."

"No buts. It's just a drop"

"Why do I ha-"

"Because I'm asking you to."

Silence fell in the room.

I looked at her with pleading eyes, but she was unflinching.

Trapped in her glacial gaze...I obeyed. I brought my finger to my mouth, tasting the transparent, sticky liquid. It tasted slightly salty.

"It's not so bad, see? A good boy doesn't waste others' time with pointless questions. He just does as he is asked to. It's only natural. Do you understand?"

"Yes mommy..."

"What a golden boy. Now, turn. Slowly. Let me see the whole of you"

As she observed me turning and giving her a 360° look, I felt her gaze burn on my body, the long moments of silence only adding to the tension.

"What a lovely butt you have...and it seems like all the years of swimming I encouraged have made you tonic, and slender..."

Encouraged, more like forced, I thought.

"Why did you stop going? You didn't want to show your Pinky Pinky? Well, I hope it's for more important reasons than that..."

I wanted to answer, but the response died in my throat. I stopped going to the pool a couple years prior after the boys started to mock me about my small...package. What's worse, they never really faced me about it, but I could feel the whispers and laughs behind my back. To this day, I wonder if they were real or just my paranoia.

"However, I have to say I'm disappointed. Chris, do you like mommy's smooth, perfectly shaved legs?"

I looked at the perfect figure of her long shapely legs, the shimmer of the nude nylons from her feet to the creamy stocking tops, and nodded vigorously.

"Then what's with all your...hair? It's disgusting"

I suddenly felt desperately self-conscious. I wasn't so hairy...

"A proper boy is supposed to be shaved"

"You mean-"

"I mean. All. Shaved."

I stood there, now absorbing my mother's words without any opposition, feeling the burn of her disappointment. A hairy monster, ugly and unattractive.

She got closer to my twitching erection, surrounded by the few pubic hair I had.

"Oh no, I won't touch this...this mess"

She laid on the opposite part of the couch, a severely disappointed look on her face. I was crestfallen.

"In the meantime...I shouldn't, but I'll make an exception. Assume the position"

At this point, it was impossible to read her intentions. I simply knew I had to obey.

I knelt, and she put her feet in front of me, close to my erection.

Maybe she would...

"Since you've been an obedient sweetie, you can touch your Pinky Pinky in front of mommy. Aren't you a lucky one?"

No footjob for me, it seemed. But...would you deserve it?

"Go ahead, start"

Kneeling, at her feet, I reached my steel hard small nib and started to jerk off.

She slowly wiggled her red painted toes under the sheer tan nylon.

"Would you like to make a piddle on mommy's feet?"

I stroke faster.

"Y-yes mommy"

"Oh, I just don't know if I should let you..."

"Please, mommy..."

I stroke harder. She was still recording the whole scene with her phone, but I quickly became unaware of it.

"You know, I was thinking about Gwen...you haven't gone to the university in the past few days, but I want you to go back tomorrow, and to apologize to her too for what you said."

My sudden impulse was to protest, but she swayed me by gently resting her soles on my face, and the result of my effort was just a sweet deeper sniff that melted all my resolve.

"I want you to share with her how much you're happy for all the brilliant grades she's achieving, and for her new relationship."

I kept stroking, and gave another deep sniff, the feeling of her warm soles on my face driving me crazy.

"You ruined everything with her, but it doesn't mean you can't be friends now. As a friend, you could continue to support her as you did...oh, what a great girl she is..."

She lowered her feet and started going slowly back and forth beneath my balls, rubbing them and sending me shivers all long.

"Meanwhile, you are here, kneeling...at your place...stroking your little Pinky Pinky in front of mommy's feet..."

Her voice went down to a whisper "...imagine if she was here to see you right now..."

I grunted as I exploded in an enormous orgasm. Wave after wave I released three days' worth of cum onto her stockinged feet. I felt the pressure of my heart pound in my head as I released my load, my whole body tensing up.

She, on the other hand, had a loud gasp of surprise. With an outraged look, she kicked me in the balls, catching me right in the middle of my orgasm.

The spike of pain mixed with the pleasure, and I collapsed on the carpet.

"Did. I. Give. You. Permission?"

After some moments, my sight returned clear and I saw she was furious. "Are you really such a pathetic loser? Such a useless quick shot that you cannot even listen to instructions?"

I was holding my balls, the deep pain starting to radiate from below. She raised her feet towards me.

"Clean"

I tried to get up "O-ok I'll go grab a tissue..."

She fired darts with her eyes. I rarely saw her so upset, so I stopped immediately.

"Don't play games with me, Chris. You'll lick it all up, now."

"But mom I...why do I...can't I just-"

"You're afraid of a bit of cum, and you expected Gwen to give you head? You have to stop being selfish and demonstrate your good will, Chris. You have to show your respect..."

In the midst of my confusion, I once again felt guilty. I got closer to her feet, her shining hose glistening with my cum.

"...and your reverence..."

I opened my mouth and took a first bit of cum on my tongue, my body still shivering with pleasure, my balls still aching from her kick.

"Yeees, my sweet boy, lick it now, now that it is still scorching hot..."

I licked a dribble, my tongue rising to catch it all along the side of her foot, and I finally took in a big puddle right above her toes. It definitely didn't taste bad. It had a sweet taste, with a bit of a watery, fishy aftertaste. The way the consistency swirled in my mouth...

I licked all of it, one foot after the other, making sure to suck on the hose to make them as clean as I could. The pain in my balls was now distinct, and my breath was still short.

"See, it wasn't all so bad. Oh, and you'll get used to the taste soon. From now on..."

She came near me and embraced me, kissed my cheek, soft kisses right up to my earlobe, and she licked the inside of my ear passionately, sending shivers all over me.

"...you'll have to lick all of your piddles clean..." she said with a warm, motherly smile.

"Yes, mommy"

She left me there, on the floor, while she retreated to her bedroom upstairs.

"Oh, and tomorrow...you'll better be as smooth as a peach".

* * *

My balls felt funny. I was reaching the southern entrance of my university to meet Gwen, my ex-girlfriend, and I couldn't help but be hyper aware of how smooth it all felt down there.

After shaving, I was feeling the fabric of the trousers on my legs in a much more distinct way, the touch of my boxers on my dick and balls enhanced, that made me shiver.

It had not been easy. When I woke up, my mom had already left a small box in the bathroom, and a note with it. She had gathered her shaving tools for me.

I'd been run over by the shame of my appearance before her. Yet, as I stripped in front of the mirror, I saw I wasn't so hairy after all.

I saw my slender figure, around 162 cm tall, with just a bit of blonde hair under my armpits and on my crotch, some trace of them on my legs and barely any on my chest. I also struggled to grow a beard as I hardly had any, blonde and soft as it was. Maybe that is why I compensated with a longer than usual haircut, as my blonde hair grew halfway along the neck, of a fairer colour than my mother's.

I tried clenching my jaw to make my jawline more defined, but my face was overall soft, with an elegant small nose and big eyes. No square jaw to be found.

I had looked disappointed at my narrow shoulders, my thin arms, my flat chest. Not a football player, that's for sure. My mom was right saying that I wasn't by any means fat or flabby, but as tonic as I was, my butt was the only "big" muscles I actually had.

With her pink razor, I had shaved all the hair I could find on my body under a hot shower, and applied all her cremes afterwards. I was careful moving the razor along the base of my dick, under my balls, and found particularly difficult shaving the space between my balls and my asshole...

But I was amazed, now, at what difference it made. I felt everything much more smoothly, and I felt my dicklette becoming hard the more I savoured this sensation, the same it had been after the shaving.

There, in the university hallway, I put a hand inside my boxers to fondle my balls, to get a feel of just how smooth they felt now...

"So, you smoothed everything out?"

Gwen said, behind me.

Surprised and panicking, I removed the hand and turned towards her.

She had a serious look "...what? You asked to meet me and here I am. I imagine you've smoothed out the hard feelings" she said, and I was once again lost in her glowing green eyes and her round, elegant lips.

Her long chestnut hair were as silky as always and fell down her shoulders, around the big, pearl white bosom I still had not touched. Her beauty, as always, was striking, her perfume intoxicating. It made it difficult to look at her. I felt my heart beat and I knew I wanted nothing more than to be with her again. It was as if the girl sucking cock and taking huge loads in her ass on the pics she sent me was not her...even though I knew it was.

"I wouldn't say I have bad feelings..."

"Then what part of go to hell you fucking bitch did I misunderstand?" she said. She looked hurt, but I had long given up trying to interpret her moods.

I couldn't hold her stare, and I looked down. She was lovely in her skimpy black cachemire dress, sheer black nylons and her patent leather loafers. Even without heels, she was taller than me.

A woman has to feel spoiled; it was your duty and yet you are slut-shaming her...

My mother's words echoed in my head.

"W-well, actually I came to apologize..." I uttered, a whisper barely audible.

She brought a hand to her ear, in a questioning look "What...? You said you want to...apologize? Chris, I can barely hear you" she said, her voice soothful but disappointed.

"I'm..."

I tried to find the words, but my mouth was getting dry.

"You're not even looking at me Chris. Are you sure you want to apologize, or are you here to waste my time?" her soft voice now impatient.

She was disappointed, inquisitive, and I got frustrated by it.

"Y-yes, yes, I'm doing it right now! If you would just let me talk!" I suddenly raised my tone.

I saw anger quickly form in her expression, as she took a step towards me and looked down on me.

"You don't get to use that tone with me, Chris, are you out of your mind?"

I instantly realized my mistake and tried to mumble something, but seeing her beautiful eyes angry with me, her silky voice so full of disdain... the thought of letting her down crushed me.

"I didn't mean to..."

"Have you even understood what you're apologizing for?"

I felt stupid and completely out of place.

"Or are you just missing our...girls' nights...so bad that you're willing to say anything to go back to where we were?" she said, my eyes still down, fixed on the sweet curves of her shapely legs in sheer nylons.

"You know it's not possible...things have changed. And I gave you a choice. A chance to be part of my life"

"I-I know. I was unfair to you and..." I said, as I felt vertigoes: I was not good at arguing, and it rapidly felt like I was about to get dumped again. Then, I remembered the words my mother told me.

"...you know, I'm happy that you brilliantly passed all the semester exams..." brilliantly? "...and for your new relationship..."

I paused. I couldn't believe what I was saying.

Gwen stood silently, enigmatic, as if evaluating me. At this point, it felt natural to continue until the end.

"So I wonder if we still can see each other sometimes..." I finished.

She chuckled, cutting me off in the middle of the sentence. I could see she was confused, and amused.

I was openly surrendering to her.

"I don't know what's gotten into you...but I could reconsider our situation. If you do something for me"