Mom, Aunt Clara & My Wandering Mind Pt. 07

"Just so you know, Andrew Michael, if I'm not your date, you'd better be wearing tighty-whities and some kind of chastity belt," she teased, turning to swap the bright yellow thong for a less obnoxious black.

Do they even make chastity belts for guys? I wondered.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat, "So, what else would you... I mean, my date... maybe like to see me wear?" I asked, still nervously but gaining some confidence since Nadia hadn't completely shut me down.

"It depends on what we'd... I mean, what you and your date... are planning to do," she was cool as she played along, obviously already knowing where this was eventually leading.

"Well, I can't really afford much, you know, since I'm not working yet. But I have some saved up. We could go to a movie or a nice dinner somewhere. I mean... one or the other... not both," I wagged my head, slightly embarrassed that I couldn't afford a nicer first date.

"Or, you could do something more romantic," she suggested. "Dates don't have to be expensive, you know."

"They don't?"

"Of course not. What matters most to a woman is that you spend time with her," she expounded as if she was an expert.

"And the very best things you can do for her don't cost a penny," Miss Swenson, added on, curling her lips as she said it.

"Right, Mom, you could do just about anything, right? Like the free concerts in the park," somehow Nadia hadn't heard the overt suggestion in her mother's comment that I had. "Or a walk by the river. Or watching fireflies and stars, or..." she seemed to have enough ideas to go on forever.

"Or a picnic?" I finally contributed an idea of my own. "Or all of the above?" I smiled, suddenly imagining what a fun evening that could be to spend with Nadia.

"That's pretty ambitious, Andy," she chuckled. "You must really like this girl," she demurred. "I have an idea what might be good for a date like that," she continued with our pretense and led me to the Men's Casual section, "I mean for you to wear."

"Yeah, I do like her, Nadia. I've just been too afraid to ask her out, I guess," I confessed as she led me by the hand to another section of Men's clothing.

"What do you think, Mom," Nadia asked, holding up a thin white long-sleeved dress shirt, the kind so fancy I imagined you could wear it with a tux.

"Oh, I like how you think, Nadia," she agreed. "With the tan Andy's starting to get, he'll look very dapper in pure white. Very classy. Like a young James Bond."

"James who?," I asked and Miss Swenson guffawed.

"Yeah, Mom. James who?" Nadia also asked and immediately I felt less embarrassed.

"Hmph," Miss Swenson grunted. "That's one more for both of you," she snapped, "for making me feel old."

"One more what?" Nadia asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing, my dear," Miss Swenson dismissed, recovering her composure, "You'll find out later. Now, let's find some slacks to go with that." She left before Nadia could question her any further.

"We kind of have to go with black, don't we?" Miss Swenson asked, returning with some sleek pleated slacks made of thin but very classy-looking fabric, so much as I was able to distinguish what was or wasn't classy.

"Yeah, I mean some guys are into some different colors right now, but if you want it to stay in style longer, black is the safest, right?"

"Agreed," Miss Swenson concurred, again they were deciding my fate with no input from me.

"But safe isn't exactly what I was hoping for, Mom. I mean, Andy's date probably would like something at least a little bit... I don't know... daring?"

"You mean, like a scarf? Or a beret? A bowtie maybe?"

They both chuckled

"Well, no. Nothing like that," Nadia chittered quietly. "I guess this is fine." She relented but sounded disappointed.

"Wait, I have just the thing, Nadia. The best of both worlds," Miss Swenson chimed, then disappeared around the corner, calling "I'll be right back!"

"So, Nadia," I started to ask, "for this date of mine? Would you maybe want to..."

Nadia cut me off, seeming to want to continue our game a little longer before letting me actually ask her out. "What's with the counting, Andy?"

"The counting?" I repeated, trying to convince myself she hadn't just asked that.

"Yes, you know... twelve, thirteen, fourteen? I think we're up to what, like twenty now?"

"No! Fifteen!" I protested quickly, the thought of twenty spanks sending me into a temporary panic.

"Okay, then. Fifteen. Still, what's that about?" she asked. "And how come I somehow have one now, too?"

"I... well, you probably don't really have one and it's just part of my therapy... what your mom's helping me with," I answered as vaguely as I could.

"Okay?" she pressed, urging me to say more.

"I'm not allowed to talk about," I answered, remembering one of Aunt Clara's very first rules.

"Aww," Nadia whined, "I'm gonna find out anyway, Andy. Please just tell me. Mom said she was going to tell me later, but I'd rather hear it from you."

My face turned red skipping a pink flush and going straight to 'he looks like he's going to POP' red. "I... I can't, Nadia. I... I want to. I do. It's just too embarrassing and I'm afraid you'll get mad."

"Mad?! Andy, whatever your therapy is I'm loving it! You've already changed so much and yet you're still you. Whatever it is I hope you keep doing it!"

Nadia leaned in close to me, close enough that we could kiss, though neither of us ventured those last few inches. "But I will find out what it is," she whispered into my ear, "or maybe I'll figure it out on my own. I am pretty smart, you know. And when I do, I bet I'll get to start counting things for you, too, like Mom does."

She had no idea what she was even saying. All she knew was that it made me blush and, to her, it sounded fun. She also had no idea how it affected me, the thought of my Nadia counting off corrections and spanking my behind. My penis woke up at the thought and from that moment on, refused to go back to slumber.

"Okay, ready?" Miss Swenson chirped, holding something behind her back. "You wanted a side of daring to go with your classy main dish? I give you... the solution!" Miss Swenson pulled her hand from behind her back and immediately Nadia squeaked in delight.

"Mom! Are you serious?! That's so... so..."

"Naughty? I agree. It's perfect, isn't it? On the outside, he'll look the perfect gentleman. But you, I mean, Andy's date, will know the truth that's under the covers, so to speak."

My eyes were wide as saucer's and my jaw fell agape. In Miss Swanson's hand was the cock sock that Nadia had set back on the counter--underwear, if you could even call it that, with no support, no straps, no strings even, and above all, no modesty whatsoever.

"I... I...," I couldn't speak, couldn't form words, couldn't even form a thought.

"Let's get some socks and shoes and see how he looks!" Miss Swenson said excitedly.

"And a belt?" Nadia suggested, "or suspenders?"

The two Swenson ladies nodded at each other and left, only returning a few seconds later to fetch their mannequin who, unwittingly playing the part quite well, hadn't moved a muscle or blinked.

"Come on, Andy!" Nadia beamed. "We can't do this without you!"

I was still mostly stupified as I watched them choose socks and shoes for me and, though Miss Swenson said the suspenders had 'possibilities', they opted for a belt.

I didn't fully regain my faculties until they dragged me to the dressing room and were about to go back with me.

"Ahem," the snotty bitch co-workers voice cut through again. "You don't want to do that," she whispered to Nadia.

"Oh, mind your own business, Priscilla," Nadia scowled quietly. "Like you haven't already gone into the changing room with half the football team this summer? And it's still only June!"

"Shh! It's not me, Nadia," Priscilla motioned with her neck, tilted and bouncing her head slightly to get Nadia to look behind her.

"We need to talk, Miss Swenson," a snivelly male voice grumbled, and by 'Miss Swenson' he actually meant Nadia. "You know store policy about associates in the changing rooms while customers are using them. And I've noticed you haven't been at your post for over fifteen minutes. Both are inexcusable, Miss Swenson. You know what that means."

Nadia shot a glare at Priscilla, obviously thinking she had tattled on her, but Priscilla shook her head in innocent defense.

"We have zero tolerance for chicanery and..." the weasely man continued and by his face, I wondered if his scowl was permanent.

"And helping paying customers?" Miss Swenson returned just in time, emphatically setting down a pair of silver cufflinks on the counter.

"Eh... excuse me?" the man crumpled, immediately caught off guard.

"I understand your store has a policy against... what word did you use?"

"Ch-chicanery," he sputtered.

"Right," Miss Swenson continued, "Well, does the store also have a policy against going above and beyond to help paying customers? Because that's what these young ladies were doing, Mister...?" Miss Swenson was calm, cool, collected, and in complete control.

"Um... Venkel. Harold Venkel. D-d-department s-supervisor. And, of course not," he stumbled with his words before recovering. "b-but we have very strict rules about fraternizing with customers that I simply cannot ig..." he didn't finish his sentence as Miss Swenson interrupted him, again--both his speech and his thoughts.

Miss Swenson grabbed the lowest tip of his tie and used it to pull him closer towards her.

I noticed, perhaps at the same time the old geezer Venkel did, that Miss Swenson's nipples were poking hard against her sports bra and the tank top covering, meant to provide some small bit of propriety to her outfit, was somehow drawing more attention to its impropriety, instead.

"I don't want anyone to get in trouble, Mr. Finkel," she cooed.

"V-Venkel," he spluttered, once again faltering with his speech.

"Nevertheless," Miss Swenson growled. "These helpful associates shouldn't be reprimanded for helping a customer, should they? Even if it might mean bending a store policy just a tad? I wouldn't want them to get in trouble... or you, Mr. Venkel."

"What? M-m-me?" he was floundering and I couldn't help but chuckle, wondering if I looked that pathetic sometimes and half expecting Miss Swenson to pronounce 'One' before taking him away for a spanking.

"That's right, Mr. Venkel, I'm planning on spending a hefty sum here today, but it would be a shame if I not only took my shopping elsewhere but also made sure I let your regional office know that you are the reason why."

"B-b-but, I'm sorry, Miss...?" he was fishing for her name.

"You don't need to know my name, Mister Venkel. You'll learn it soon enough if things continue in the wrong direction. 'Miss' will do just fine. But I would surely appreciate it if you'd leave these fine associates of yours to do their jobs while you and I..." She released the man's tie and started caressing it, pressing it flat against his chest as if straighten it for him but with her fingers spread wide so they casually scraped his chest.

"Y-y-you and I?" I said with a hitch in his voice.

"Maybe you can close a deal with me while these ladies tend to this young man?" Miss Swanson's voice was husky, overbold in its tone, but perfectly effective.

A second later, Mr. Venkel disappeared from view, following Miss Swenson like a lost little puppy.

"Wow, did that just happen?" Priscilla mumbled, then turned to Nadia. "I swear I didn't say anything! I promise! I know you don't like me but I'd never do that. You've always been cool with me and... well, most girls aren't."

"It's not that I don't like you," Nadia said, "It's just that you always have a different guy and... well... you know what? It doesn't matter now," she suddenly gleamed, wrapping her arm in mine. "It just doesn't matter at all, anymore."

"Truce?" Priscilla asked.

"Let's do one better. How about friends?" Nadia asked, offering her a friendly smile.

"Wow, you mean it?" Priscilla asked incredulously. "All my friends are guys."

"Yeah, I've noticed," Nadia teased.

"Wow... a friend who's a girl?" Priscilla asked again, "Do you really mean it?"

Nadia nodded.

Priscilla threw her arms around Nadia and drowned her in thank you's before finally pulling away and exclaiming, "You two go back there and take however long you want. I'll cover for you!"

Before she chanced to change her mind, Nadia grabbed all the garments from the countertop and dragged me by the hand to the dressing room area, choosing the farthest stall from the front and pushing me in first.

"Okay! First things first, Andy! Lose those shorts and t-shirt!"

"W-what?"

"Sixteen," she pronounced confidently, which made me do a double-take.

"You figured out the counting?" I asked nervously, panic sweeping across my face like desert heat.

"No. Not yet. All I know is you obey whenever Mom counts", she giggled.

"I'll turn around if you want me to," she offered.

"Um... Can you just wait in the hall? P-please?" I muttered, what little courage I'd been faking having evaporated once I heard Nadia counting numbers.

"You know, I'm going to find out eventually. I wish you'd just tell me yourself," she said while facing away, but refusing to leave the changing room.

I removed my t-shirt first and hung it on a hook by the curtain, causing Nadia to turn to see what I'd hung up.

"I'm really not allowed," I tried to explain, grateful that it was technically true. I slowly pulled my shorts down to my ankles, my half-erect penis flopping in the air as I struggled to get the shorts untangled with my shoes.

"Need some help?" Nadia asked and started to turn.

"No! N-no," I stammered, which made her chuckle.

"You're going to need your shoes off anyway, you know," she said cooly as if she could picture exactly what was happening behind her. "Your socks, too."

In surrender, I kicked off my shoes and removed my shorts, then slid off my socks as well. I tucked my socks into my shoes and hung my shorts up on the hook, immediately realizing at that moment that I was now completely nude in the presence of my lifelong secret love interest... in a dressing room... in private... and all she had to do was turn around to see me in all my half-erect humiliation, or glory, perhaps, if I'd been a more confident man at that point.

"Well?" she asked, but I wasn't sure what the question was. "Are you done?"

"I think you already know," I muttered.

She giggled. "So... put on the trunks first, okay?"

I murmured something that even I couldn't decipher and pulled on the trunks, glad they'd at least chosen the right size for me. Compared to being naked, they were incredibly uncomfortable, and yet, I immediately felt more relaxed.

"Do you like them?" she asked, hearing that I'd finished.

"Yeah, they're... they're okay," I said almost happily.

"Good! I'm turning around, now," she announced and did just that, her eyes already training toward my crotch as she spun to face me. "Oh, I like them!" she crooned, reaching out to pull on the waistband as if checking the fit.

"Hey!" I said in alarm at the intrusion of her fingers so near to my patch of curly hairs.

"What?" she argued back. "I've seen you in swimsuits, Andy. This isn't that different."

"Yeah, well you never stuck your fingers in my swimsuit, Nadia!" I protested.

"You two okay back there?" Priscilla called back, her subtle way of letting us know we were getting a little too loud.

"Just fine," I groused in frustration, which caused Nadia to let out her own frustrated huff as she left the dressing room, slamming the curtain shut again behind her and, yes, it is possible to slam a curtain.

"Just try on the pants and dress shirt, will you?" she said curtly and without even seeing her, I knew she had her arms crossed in front of her.

"Nadia," I said apologetically but she didn't answer. "Nadia, please? Please, don't leave me."

"I won't leave under one condition," she said adamantly and, again, I imagined her arms were still crossed but now her cute little chin was probably thrust upward, too.

"Name it, Nadia. Just don't go."

"Tell me what I want to know," she demanded.

"But... I can't," I lowered my voice. "I told you, I'm not allowed. I'll get in trouble if I..."

"If you what, Andrew?" Miss Swenson's voice boomed from the other side of the curtain and jumped in alarmed reaction.

"I... It's not her fault, Miss Swenson. She's just curious," I tried defending on Nadia's behalf. "She wants to know what the counting is, but I told her I can't say. Please, don't be mad."

"Oh," Miss Swenson sounded surprised. "Is that all?"

Is that all? I wondered in confusion. My therapy is supposed to be a well-kept secret. She's acting like it's no big deal at all!

"We'll talk about this later," she said dismissively, "Now, we're coming in. I want to see what I'm buying."

I covered myself, purely from instinct, as the curtain flung open. Miss Swenson immediately put one hand on her chin, the other on her waist, as she looked me up and down.

My beautiful Nadia had her arms crossed, still, just as I'd expected she would.

"Not bad," Miss Swenson critiqued. "You do need more sun, though. And I much prefer something less..."

"Less?" I asked, apprehensively. "Less what?"

"Just... less," she said casually. "Try the bikini brief," she ordered. "Let's see how that looks."

I glanced back and forth between Miss Swenson and Nadia, noting the contrast in their expressions. Miss Swenson was indifferently waiting for me to obey. Nadia, however, wore unrestrained giddy expectancy on her face with her eyes wide and her mouth curled upward in a drunken delight.

"Come on, then," Miss Swenson ordered impatiently.

"Mmm... but... Nadia," I pleaded.

Miss Swenson harrumphed. "You know that should be seventeen, Andy. But for Nadia's sake, we'll turn around."

"For my sake?!" Nadia whined.

"Hush, Sweetie. You'll be alright. Just turn around," she chided, turning her daughter away from me with one hand on her back, which, curiously, slid further and further downward as they turned until it was resting on her bottom.

At this point, my own eyes went wide.

Miss Swenson's hand drifted lower, her fingers dangerously close to the hem of Nadia's tartan plain mini-skirt, the standard wardrobe for female Fashion Planet associates.

My eyes were glazing over as I stared, watching Miss Swenson's slender fingers tease the hem of Nadia's skirt.

"Andy?" Miss Swenson called into my reverie.

I looked up to see Miss Swenson looking at me over her shoulder, not all the way turned yet, and sideways to Nadia.

"If we have to turn around, so do you," she put forward, as though it were an invitation to reconsider my decision.

I couldn't help looking downward again as Miss Swenson enticingly teased her fingers beneath the hem and started pulling Nadia's skirt upward, quickly revealing her skin-tight black boy-short panties beneath.

My throat tightened until I was unable to speak. My dick swelled, immediately filling out my trunks.

"Mmmmm, Mom," Nadia moaned, "Here?"

"Hush, Sweetie," Miss Swenson told her quietly before turning back to me. "Turn around, Andy. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Huh? Oh... right," I mumbled, mindlessly turning myself around, wondering if, in my bashfulness, I'd made a huge mistake.

"The bikini briefs, Andy," Miss Swenson reminded me. "The light-blue ones. Let us know when you have them on."

I pulled down the underwear I had on, inspecting the inside to make sure hadn't leaked anything into them. I hung them from one of the unused hooks and both Swenson ladies looked over at the motion. Nadia quietly giggled.