MENACING MRS. MITCHELL
A Tickling Tale - By Jack Hays Section #5.
"KENNY! I'm your MOTHER! Don't do this to me! It -- it's just not right!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Like all the stuff you used to do with your boyfriend Al the Asshole was all okay. Hey, Bob, get over here and look what I found in the trunk." Kenny's search had turned up something, I guessed.
Kenny dumped the contents of the paper bag out on the ground. He had found quite a stash: two vibrators (one with a wiggly rubber French tickler on the end), an old-time lace-up corset, and a package of old photographs.
"Kenny, what are you doing with those! You know you aren't allowed in my trunk!" Kenny's mom clearly didn't approve of our discovery.
"Hey, tough tiddy, Mom. You whipped my butt the time I tried to open it up -- maybe I'll whip your butt today!"
"Kenny, no! I'm sorry. Please don't do this anymore. Leave those things alone," said Mrs. Mitchell.
"What're the pictures, Kenny?" I asked.
"Well, ya know, Mom and ol' Asshole Al used to lock me out of the house for a couple of hours at a time. They needed their privacy. Right, Mom? Well, I think this is what those two were up to."
Kenny tossed me the photo pack. I started looking through the snapshots and was could hardly believe it. There was my buddy's mom, wearing the corset, with her tits bare and no panties, posing on the bed in her bedroom. There were several shots like this. In several others, there was a woman with her, dressed the same way. They were holding and fondling each other and kissing.
"Who's that in the picture, Kenny? Do you know her?" I wondered.
"You bet I do! You ain't gonna believe it. That's Mrs. Waddell from the school. Boy, you're lookin' at your 6th grade homeroom teacher!"
"Holy shit! Whattaya think she'll do to keep us from showin' these all over the school?" I could imagine a number of possibilities.
"You're thinkin' just like I am. We got her right where we want her."
"What's in the can you brought out? Was that out of the trunk, too?" Kenny had a red can with a shaker top on it. It didn't have a label.
"Uh-uh. This was in my shit. I got it from a kid at school one time. We're gonna have fun with this. Watch!"
Kenny walked over to where his mom was sagging against the ropes which held her snug to the tree. Her cleavage hung out of the tops of her bra, making a deep valley. Kenny took the shaker can and shook out some white powder, into the cleft between his mothers tits.
"Oh, Kenny, what now? Please don't do anything more to me, I'll do whatever you want me to, but untie me now, please! Oh, what's in that? Oooooo. Oh. Ah . . . ah . . . eeee. Kenny, that itches. It itches, Kenny. What is that stuff?!"
"Itching powder, Mom! What's the matter, can't scratch where it itches?"
Mrs. Mitchell had a desperate look on her face now. She started to squirm and try to rub her breasts against the rope, but she couldn't reach it.
"Oooooooooo. God, Kenny! I can't stand this! Get that stuff off of me! Get me out of here!"
"Aw, we're just gettin' started. Whattaya think, Bob?"
"Cool! Hey, let me put some on her."
I took the can and gave a good shake all over each armpit. That really started her squirming.
"Come on, Bob, let's get some down her underwear. Pull her dress up."
"No! NO! NONONONONO! Leave me alone! Don't you dare pull my skirt up! Kenny, that's enough!"
Kenny and I both just grabbed the bottom of her skirt and started pulling it up around the ropes and toward her waistline. Then we found the button on the front and decided to do away with it all together. It was only logical, then, that at the same time, we went ahead and pulled her blouse back as far as we could with the ropes around her. She was wearing a white panty girdle, the kind I had seen in the Sears' catalogue labeled "extra control panels". Kenny grabbed the front of the waist band and held it open.
"Dump some in here, Bob, this'll be great!"