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From: Leowulf <leowulf@softhome.nospam.net>
Subject: {ASSM} Helping Pete be Gentle (Fb, femdom, cd, mast, rom)
Date: Thu, 30 Jan 2003 01:10:04 -0500
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{ASSM} Helping Pete be Gentle (Fb, femdom, cd, mast, rom)

by Leowulf

This is a story about a young mother who is making her seven year old son 
into a submissive little slave.  If you have a problem with this, please 
feel free to go fuck yourself.

Do NOT repost this story except on usenet for free.

Send me feedback!  Leowulf "at" softhome "dot" net.  Let me know what you 
like (or dislike) about my stories!

***

Helping Pete be Gentle

Before the best day of Sandra's life came one of the worst nights of her 
life.  Not the worst night; that was when her father passed away when she 
was little.  But this night was right up there.  And fridays were always 
supposed to be her lucky day, too!

First, little Pete came home with a bruised cheek and his nice school 
clothes torn up.  Maternity was the one place the young mother thought 
kids would never fight.  The matriarchal community was supposed to 
produce gentle boys, cared for by loving, dominant girls.  The thought of 
her seven year old child being hurt twisted her stomach in knots.  "Who 
did this to you?" asked a horrified Sandra.    

"I just got in a fight is all," was Pete's sullen comment.  "I don't work 
and play well with others," was all she could get out of him.  Sandra's 
heart went out to her little treasure.  She so wanted to help him.  But 
when she tried to hold him and talk about what happened at school, Peter 
angrily shoved her away, hit her (actually HIT her!) and said he wasn't 
going to talk to her or anyone.

After his thorough spanking, Sandra made the child stand in the corner 
for the rest of the day, naked.  Not just pantsless, but naked.  'Just 
how high can we raise the stakes?' she thought despondently.  With her 
little baby's disconsolate weeping in her ears, she couldn't get any 
housework done.  'Can't be a good mother or even a good wife today,' she 
groused to herself.

Carolyn, Pete's teacher, called with a report much more clear but in a 
way less hopeful.  "He picks on the other boys in his class when my back 
is turned.  Today after school a couple of the girls told him to stop 
hurting people, he hit them, and it turned into a fight."

"Why is he acting like this?"  Sandy cried.  "I just don't get it!"

"I've never seen anyone, much less a child, so tense, Sandy."  Carolyn 
replied.  "He behaves as if he's always angry, but his expression is so 
frightened.  It's obvious he feels under enormous pressure.  He doesn't 
like himself, and that makes it impossible for him to like others."

"How can I help him?" a frustrated and frightened Sandra finally asked.

"At parent-teacher conference, you said moving your family here was to be 
a new start; why not make it a new start for him?"  Sandra hung up 
wondering just how to do that.

Then Andy came home, late as usual.  He sported a plane ticket and a 
folder with a conference schedule.  He was, if anything, more sullen and 
withdrawn than Pete.  When she went to kiss him, and feel him up a 
little, he kissed her back reluctantly and quickly turned away.  "What's 
wrong, Andy"  Sandra asked him.  "Where are you going?"

"It's just a seminar is all," was all he would say.  He added bitterly,  
"Ms Tara wants me to learn to work and play well with others."  Sandra 
let her husband sulk.  Just one angry, depressive male in her life was 
too much as it was.

Supper was the most tense part of the evening.  She made ravioli and soft 
rolls, comfort food for her husband, and for dessert she served vanilla 
ice cream with hot chocolate syrup, comfort food for her child.  But both 
her males ate woodenly, in silence, trapped in their own problems, not 
about to let her in.

Sandra was most concerned for Pete.  She decided that "no pants for the 
rest of the day after a spanking" applied to the present situation, so 
she left him naked.  He looked so small and so sad that it actually 
worried her.  She longed to hold him, cuddle him, make it all better, but 
he was too skittish.  Even though it was friday, she sent him to take his 
bath and get ready for bed early.  He didn't argue.

Andy didn't seem to notice his naked son, or even that he had a son.  'or 
a wife, for that matter,' Sandra thought irritably.  He glanced glumly at 
the conference folder, lost in thought.  When she asked how long he would 
be gone, he barked, "a week, now leave me alone!"

When the crash, accompanied by a loud spash, came from the bathroom, Andy 
stood to go investigate.  The expression on his face was so angry that it 
frightened Sandra.  "Andrew Peter, you sit down, now!" she commanded, 
hiding her fear beneath a stern veneer.  "I'll take care of this, then 
I'm going to bed."

She turned to face him before going upstairs.  "Andy, I do love you."  
She returned his hangdog smile with a brighter one.  "I won't put up with 
your mood, but If you want me, come to bed.  Then I'll fuck you silly, my 
darling.  "

After she found, to her great relief, that her baby was ok, Sandra 
toweled him dry.  He was still sullen, a boy-sized pile of hurt and 
anger.  Sensing that a repeat of last saturday wouldn't work, she gently 
told her little treasure to go put his pajamas on, while she cleaned the 
water off the bathroom floor. 

Afterward, she tucked Peter in bed, marvelling tractable the child was 
when he was close to sleep.  She kissed him good night, and lay next to 
him for a few minutes until he went to sleep.  Her baby's soft, moist 
little body felt good to Sandra, and after he started snoring she hoped 
that Andy was over his mood, so they could fuck. 

But when Sandra went to her own bed, it was empty.  She lay awake, 
waiting for Andy as long as she could.  but if her husband came to bed, 
it was after she fell asleep.

***

After dropping her husband off at the airport, Sandra was able to reflect 
on both her problems with the clarity of day.  Both of her males seemed 
to be responding the same way to some sort of pressure.  Was Sandra the 
problem?  She hoped not.  She got on the road back to Mountain Falls. '

She had another problem as well.  Sandra and Andy didn't make love last 
night.  He was going to be at that damned conference for a week and she'd 
have to wait for his return to enjoy his cock.  'Well, you'll just have 
to wait,' she told herself silently.  Sandra understood now why her 
little boy always looked so irritated when she said that to him.  

At a stop light, she looked back at Pete.  Her seven year old was reading 
the Narnia Chronicles.  'This really works pretty well,' Sandra thought.  
'With Andy at his conference, both having sex and making him feel better 
can't be addressed until his return, so we can concentrate on helping 
Pete.'

"Hey, sport!"  Sandra called cheerfully to the back seat.  "We're going 
to stop at SaveMart before we go back, ok?"

"Mmm-hmm," came her child's distracted reply.  She took that as being as 
much assent as he would give anything today.  But when she pulled into 
the giant store's parking lot, Pete looked up and said, "Mother, can I 
just read in the car?"

"*May* I just read in the car," Sandra corrected, getting out of the car 
and opening the back door.  "No, honey you can't, we need to get you some 
more clothes for school."

At the mention of school, Pete became angry.  "I'm NOT going shopping for 
stupid school clothes!"  He shouted.  He pushed her hands away from his 
seat belt.  "I'M NOT ANY YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Sandra sad down on the back seat, facing toward him.  The thin little boy 
scooted away from her, toward the middle of the car.  'Carolyn was right, 
he is scared!'  thought a concerned Sandra.  'But why?'

"Dear one,"  Sandra tried to brush his unruly hair away from his face, 
but Pete just shook her hand off.  "Is it that you just don't like your 
new school?"

"That's the understatement of the year!"  Sandra suppressed a smile.  Her 
baby was so cute when he imitated his father's expressions.  But his next 
statement was far from cute.  "I'm never going back, and you can't make 
me, you stupid!  YOU CAN'T!"

Pictures flashed through Sandra's mind.  In rapid succession, she saw 
herself removing Pete's pants, spanking his round little bottom, and 
dragging him into the store in his underwear.  She decided against that.  
Here she could raise her kid as she wanted, and nobody would complain, 
but he needed something more than a spanking just then.

"Why don't you like school, Peter?"  She tried to keep her voice level, 
nonjudjmental.  Maybe it worked, at least he answered her.

"Because it's stupid, that's why!"  Peter shouted.  "If you had any 
BRAINS you'd know that!"  Her baby was so worked up he was red in the 
face.  He needed a calming influence, and Sandra silently vowed she'd be 
that for him.

"Please, Peter,  tell me what you don't like about school," she said 
gently.

"It's stupid!  The girls are mean to me.  It's full of momma's boys and 
they think their better than me and THEY'RE ALL SMARTER THAN ME!!"

Sandra looked at her boy.  He was starting to cry.  Tears were trickling 
down his red cheeks.  'Is that what this is all about?'  Sandra asked 
herself.  'He's jealous of the other kids?'  Then she realized, 'NO!  
He's afraid of them!'  The smart, obedient boys intimidated him.  

"Oh, darling!"  Sandra undid the seat belt and pulled her little boy onto 
her lap.  "You'll be alright.  Shhh ... Mommy's here.  Mommy's here."  

Pete clung to her flannel blouse.  He responded to her gentle rocking and 
soft, maternal words by weeping openly.  The child buried his face in her 
bosom and wept, until his shoulders were shaking with his sobs and he 
couldn't catch his breath.  Sandra held him tightly, rocking him and 
cooing sweet words to him.  Finally he had finished crying.

"Petey, Mommy's here and Mommy loves you."  Sandra began.  Her child 
rested his head on her arm and looked up at her.  He was so trusting, it 
hurt Sandra to go on. 

"You're going to make me go back, aren't you?"  Peter braced himself for 
her answer, as if for a blow.  

"My brave little boy!"  Sandra chose her words carefully.  "If you go to 
school like the brave boy you are, I'll ... I'll make it worth your 
while."

"How?  It's impossible, and the boys don't even laugh at me for being 
stupid - I think I'm so dumb they don't even notice me."

"Listen to me, little boy,"  Sandra cupped Pete's face in her soft hands 
and looked deep into his eyes.  "You aren't stupid.  Some children at 
your school might be more intelligent than you but, that doesn't make you 
stupid.  It just makes you a smart person learning with other smart 
people."

"Uh, huh," Pete grunted dubiously.

"What's 'uh, huh' mean?"  Sandra stroked the boy's hair out of his eyes, 
while he answered.

"That's what Ms Carolyn says," began Pete.  "But you and her don't know 
how dumb I am.  You both think I'm so good."  That last comment was 
loaded with dispair, and the tears started rolling down his cheeks again.

"You ARE good,"  Sandra held her boy once more to her chest.  "I think 
you just forgot you are."

"But I hit people!"  Pete's face was a mask of shame.  "Even you! And 
even Ms Carolyn, and she *loves* me!"  The seven year old broke into 
anguished sobs at this admission.  Little Pete was coming apart at the 
seams, and Sandra felt she was the only thing holding him together.

She held her little baby while he cried out his shame and sorrow.  
"There, there," she cooed.  "Mommy's here.  Mommy loves you.  Mommy 
forgives you for hitting."  she rocked him gently.  "You just cry until 
you feel better."

Finally, he was able once again to control himself.  Sandra dried his 
tears, kissed his forehead and told him repeatedly how very much she 
loved him.  Pete put his arms around her neck, kissed her cheek.  
"Mommy," he whispered.  "You're not a stupid; I'm sorry I called you 
one."

"I know, and I forgive you, baby."  Her child was becoming too heavy for 
her leg.  Sandra turned him in her arms, looked deep into his eyes.  
"Now.  Will you go to school for Mommy?"

Pete nodded wordlessly.  She could tell it was like she was asking him to 
walk back into the lion's den.  "Remember I said I'd make school worth it 
for you?"

"How?"

"Remember bath time last saturday?"

Pete smiled and blushed.  Sandra felt her own cheeks getting warm.  "I 
liked doing that with you, and if it felt good ..." Sandra waited for 
some feedback from her child.  He caught her signal and nodded 
vigorously.  "I'd like to make you feel good like that after school every 
day!"

"For ever and ever?"  The boy's eyes held hope for the first time in a 
long time.

"Yes, my love!"  Sandra smiled warmly at the little boy.  "For ever and 
ever."

"But what about the ... hitting?"  Sandra could see that his behavior 
would be a source of shame for quite a while.

Sandra kissed the top of his head.  "I've already forgiven you, sport."  
She once again met his eyes.  "And I've come up with an idea that might 
help the hitting."  That piqued his curiosity.  "If you were wearing 
fancy clothes, you wouldn't go play in mud, would you?"

Pete shook his head wordlessly.  "That's because the clothes make the 
man, and people in fancy clothes don't play in mud."  Sandra's eyes 
sparkled mischievously, and she shared a smile with her little boy at 
such a ludicrous picture.  "If I gave you special clothes that reminded 
you that you really are a good, gentle young man--"

"A gentleman!"  Pete interrupted.  

"That's right!"  Sandra praised the lad.  "You *are* smart, aren't you?"  
She felt warm all over to see her baby bask happily in her praise.  

"A gentleman with special clothes to help him remember that he is one."  
Sandra offered.  "Is that what you'd like to be?"

"Yes please, Mommy!"

***

Mommy took Pete by his small hand and led him into the store, past the 
books ("Yes, we can stop there later" she said), and past the section 
with the boy's clothes, into to the section right next to it.  As she sat 
him in a comfy chair, a Pretty Lady came over to them.

"May I help you?"  she asked.

"My son is a very good and gentle young man--"  Sandra began.

"A gentleman, get it?"  Pete chimed in.  His observation didn't have the 
same fun result that it did before, but Mommy did kiss him on top of the 
head before telling him not to interrupt.

"He wants clothes that are soft and gentle, and that will remind him that 
his is gentle if he needs to be reminded."  Mommy concluded.

"It's so I'll remember not to hit," Pete bravely explained.

"Oh!"  The Pretty Lady seemed to understand the boy's situation, and 
sympathize with him.  "I can help you choose some things that should have 
the desired effect."

Mommy made Pete promise to stay in his seat and not to move until they 
returned.  Pete promised solemnly.  It was vitally important to him that 
Mommy knew that he really loved her and wanted to obey her.  Especially 
after the stuff he refused to think about, even when it pounded on his 
door like the foolish wolf in the Three Pigs story.

Even so, it was difficult to sit still, and there were lots of 
distractions.  A couple of times, girls walked past, shopping with their 
Mommys, and stared at him.  Maybe they knew him, that he had hit.  But he 
wouldn't think about that.  So he looked at the carpet and counted the 
times the pattern repeated, until that got boring.

Pete wasn't stupid (except compared to every other boy in the whole 
world); he knew what Mommy meant by sitting still.  She meant for him not 
to leave.  He got up, but he kept touching his chair.  He looked around, 
at skirts and dresses on racks.  Why did they leave him in the girls' 
section?  Probably closer to the clothes Mommy was looking for.

His thoughts were interrupted by a firm hand on his shoulder.  He looked 
up to see Mommy standing over him.  She didn't look pleased.  "I thought 
I told you to stay in your seat, little boy!"  She said.  

"But I -- that is, I didn't go *too* far," explained the embarrassed lad.  
But he knew he did - his chair was a long way away - and he knew he made 
her angry, again.  "I'm sorry, Mommy!"  Before he could stop them, big 
baby tears were welling up in his eyes, and he quickly went back to his 
chair before anyone could see him crying like a big baby.

He hastily wiped his eyes before looking at them again.  The Pretty Lady 
had some clothes in a basket, including some girl clothes.  'Makes 
sense,' thought Pete.  'Probably the only basket available was in the 
girls' section.'

"Do we want to take Pete to one of the fitting rooms where it'll be more 
private?" asked the Pretty Lady.

"Definitely," said Mommy confidently.  "Come on, sport.  Let's go make 
you nice and gentle!"  Pete took Mommy's hand, confident himself that she 
knew what to do.

Pete let the women lead him into a little room, a bit bigger than the 
dressing room in the boys' section.  They sat him on a bench and started 
taking things out of the basket.  "First things first," Mommy said.  She 
sat down next to him and pulled off his socks and sneakers, then pulled 
off his shirt.  Then she reached for his pants.  

"Please no, Mommy!"  Pete got up.  He didn't want to be naked in front of 
a stranger, even if she was pretty.  

But Mommy looked angry.  "Peter Anthony you come back here and let Mommy 
take off your clothes," she said.  Then she added, "Ms Amy and I just 
want to help you, honey."  Mommy stood and walked to him.  She looked 
less angry, and that made Pete less afraid.  "Help you not hit, help you 
make Mommy and Ms Carolyn so proud of you at school."  She held out a 
hand to him.  "Please, honey, can we help you now?"

At that moment Pete was so entrhalled by the sweet lady cooing such soft, 
maternal words to him.  He reached out and took Mommy's hand 
automatically, and didn't complain when she not only pulled off his pants 
but his underpants as well.  But then, standing in the little room, naked 
in front of not only Mommy but Ms Amy, the pretty store lady, he felt 
suddenly very shy.

"So, little boy," said Ms Amy in a helpful voice.  "Shall we start with 
your undies and work our way out from there?"

"Yes, ma'am."  Said the shy Pete obediently.

The two ladies opened several pairs of underpants.  They looked different 
from the underpants he was used to wearing, all soft, and smooth, like 
flower petals.  They all looked like they would fit, but Mommy and Ms Amy 
made him try on several pairs.  Mommy would make him wear the lacey, soft 
things and do things like turn around, so the ladies could get a good 
look at him, walk a few paces back and forth, so he could feel, and they 
could see, how the underpants fit on him. 

By the time they were finished, he was used to modeling underclothes for 
the women.  It helped that Mommy and Ms Amy kept telling him how nice 
this one looked on him, how that one made him look so gentle and nice.  
They especially liked the way he looked with ones that had lace, like on 
Mommy's expensive tablecloth. Finally, they left him in one pair of 
underpants, decorated with daisies.  It was soft against him in a nice 
way and had lace that felt good on the tops of his legs.

"The boy looks great in these, Sandra!"  Ms Amy observed.  "And it's 
obvious from how big his penis is that Pete loves wearing panties."

'Panties?' Pete repeated silently.

"I know," Mommy agreed.  "I should have had him in panties since he was 
out of diapers."

"Panties!"  Pete exclaimed, shocked.  How could Mommy do that to him?

"Hush, little boy."  Mommy looked stern, but not angry with him.  "Yes, 
panties."  She must have seen how shocked Pete was.  She added, "Peter, 
is anyone more gentle than Mommy?"

"No, Mommy."

"Have you met any girl, even the ones who you fought with --"  at this 
she held Pete, and he didn't feel as bad at the memory as he could have.  
"-- who wasn't as gentle as she could be as long as she could?"

"No, Mommy."

"And what do girls and Mommys wear for underwear?"

"Panties - but I'm not a girl!"

"Shh, honey."  Mommy took the panty-wearing Pete and set him on her lap.  
"You're not a girl, and you never will be."  She kissed his ear and the 
tip of his nose.  "Mommy's not going to make her little boy into a girl.  
but I know having panties on, under whatever else you have on, will 
always remind you to be gentle."

Mommy then looked deep into Pete's eyes.  She had that tone in her voice; 
Pete knew this was Something Important.  "Peter, would you please let 
Mommy panty you, so you will be gentle always for Mommy?"

Pete looked back into his mother's eyes.  His heart was pounding, he 
wanted so much to make her happy that it hurt.  At that moment it felt 
great big bunches important that Mommy knew that he loved her.  He wanted 
to tell her that if whe wanted he'd always and forever wear nothing but 
panties, or nothing at all even.  But when he opened his mouth, no words 
would come out, so he just nodded his head.

"Wow!"  Mommy exclaimed in a hushed voice.  She hugged Pete so tight that 
he couldn't breathe.  "What a good boy you are!"  She kissed him all over 
his head and face.  "You always do what Mommy wants."  Mommy's hand 
slipped to Pete's panties, stroking them affectionately.  Pete always 
makes Mommy so happy!"

"Oh, Mommy!"  Pete said, very happy.  "I love you!"  Pete wasn't an 
ooshy-gooshy boy, but he couldn't help it.  He loved Mommy so much that 
he couldn't not tell her.  She was so good and wonderful and he didn't 
know any words that could tell her he loved her.

"I love you Pete!"  Mommy was still stroking his panties, hugging him 
close to her big, round breasts.  Pete felt so special!  He knew that 
Mommy loved him a lot, and that made him feel so good he thought he was 
going to pop.  Her arm felt so good holding him, her breasts felt so soft 
against his face.  Mommy's hand felt so good stroking his panties.

Then Mommy bent down and whispered the secret in Pete's ear.  "Mommy 
loves Pete," she began.  "And all females, all mommies and girls, love 
Pete."  As she told the secret, she kept rubbing Pete through his 
panties.  "And Pete loves all females, all mommies and girls."

The flower-petal softness of his panties made Mommy's hands feel 
wonderful!  "And Pete loves to obey all females, all mommies and girls."  
Mommy's hands moved faster as she whispered.  "And all females, all 
mommies and girls love to make Pete feel good!"

Then Mommy made Pete "come" like last saturday.  He suddenly felt so good 
he couldn't stand it, all over his body, centered on his penis, just like 
before.  And like before, Pete was focused on Mommy, making him feel 
good, because she loved him.

"So," Mommy smiled down at her boy as he recovered from his orgasm.  "Is 
Pete going to be Mommy's little panty boy for ever and ever?"

"For ever and ever, Mommy!" came Pete's submissive, happy reply.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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