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"Can I ride it home?" I wheedled her. "Please Mom?"She laughed at my antics and told me, "Jeffrey, if you try to grandstand or do anything dangerous with it, that bike will be a nice tax donation after I give it to DI. "DI is short for Deseret Industries, the Mormon charity thrift store where foreigners go to get free shit, among other things.I knew she was serious and would do so in a minute if I abused her trust in me. "Oh Mom, I'll be the safest kid on the road. I'll stay in the bike lanes and be real careful." I smiled my winningest smile at her and remembered how great her titty nipple felt between my lips. Just one little mishap and I was scarred for life and addicted to my mom's nipples. My lips tingled for the rest of the day."I think you'll do all right."She hugged me and was careful my cheek was all that came in contact with her. I closed my eyes and rubbed my face against her nipple. She didn't say anything."Let's go home. You ride carefully." Oh you betcha," I told her.. Age, and she shouted 39, Shoe size, hesitation and I shocked her round tight arse cheek facing me. Another scream of pain another question, and she started trying to avoid the pain but the collar and chain stopped her from running away. The shocks became less often as she started answering more instantly. Many of the questions I asked I did so repeatedly intermitently during the interrogation and she ended up on the floor curled up at the end of it.I was satisfied with the answers and the way I got turned on by inflicting the shocks to her body and her screams of pain.“Good” I said to her and walked to where I had left the tumbler and water earlier.“On your knees and face me and you can have some water” I told her.Her upper body was sweaty from the exertions of trying to avoid the prod as she knelt facing me. I poured the water into the clear tumbler half way up and returned to the entrance of the cage masturbating mself as I did so. I looked at her kneeling there and I wanked myself.
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Besides, most of Wendy's old panties were plain white cotton and apartfrom the edged lacing around the legs and the little pink bow at thefront, didn't seem much different to small boy's tight whites.Anyhow, once my trousers were back on me they use to hide them and apartfrom my Aunty Ann, no one who saw me passing them in the street couldhave known I was wearing panties back then. Sometimes, when the washingwas all hung out on the line, Aunty Ann had had to use a pair of Wendy'ssoft satin feeling panties, if they were the only ones available. And Ithink it would be fair to say that THEY certainly didn't look like boysunderwear.Those panties felt entirely different on me when I had to wear them,especially when I had to wear them while walking up to the shops with myAunt. They were often pale pink in colour, felt very soft and slipperyto wear and shiny to look at and had frilled lacings on the leg openings.Although I was very young back then (and could never had known about.

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