Under Mommy's Control: Closeted

And for the next 2 hours it was. Jaime was pushed into outfit after outfit, with only a few more administrations of the mantra from last night's hypnosis. She had begun livestreaming the feed, and for a $25 dollar donation you could suggest the next outfit for Jaime to try on. And with each new outfit she could see Jaime's confidence building and building, catching him taking eager glances at the mirror as he tugged up mom jeans, and slipped into camisoles. Sure he was blitzed out of his mind on hypnosis, but the experience, the memories would stay. They'd all come crashing back to him every time he thought about even so much as a skirt.

But as much fun as parading him up and down the aisle of her closet like it was his own personal runway was, Sandra had plans.

"Now now Jaime, you've had your fun playing in your Mother's closet, but now you have to choose~"

Sandra snapped her fingers into the microphone.

* * * * *

Jaime snapped his head to attention and caught himself in the mirror. He was wearing a burgundy romper with a white floral motif. His stomach turned and he felt his body flare red.

"Even someone as oblivious as your Mother would be sure to notice half her wardrobe disappearing so I only want you to pick one outfit to take back to your room."

Jaime however had stopped listening, feeling a sudden surge of anger at the insult to his Mother. She loved, and cared and protected him! If he had been able to build up the courage to tell her what was going on, she would have helped him before it had gotten this bad. With all of his resistances having been ground away, Jaime felt his anger flash boil inside him.

"Don't talk that way about my Mother!"

Jaime shouted angrily into the closet, to no direction in particular, just outwards, like a condemnation against an omniscient God.

There was silence.

For almost a minute there was silence.

Then he heard her voice, and he could swear he heard it waver.

"Ju-ust pick one outfit, Jaime and tuck it away in your closet. I'll tell you the r-rest tomorrow."

Then his phone screen went black, and he watched as it powered itself down.

She was gone.

Jaime turned around, scanned his eyes and snatched a hanger off the rack. A light blue hoodie with a pair of jeans. Basically boys clothes. Almost. Sure the back pockets were heart shaped, and the hoodie had draw strings that ended in poofballs, but whatever. He stormed off towards his room to tuck away his latest acquisition.

* * * * *

Sandra was shaken to her core, her heart pounding in her chest and he fingers trembling.

She'd just had the longest orgasm of her life. For almost a full minute her fingers had spasmed on her clit as her whole body rocked with pleasure. She'd even squirted through her panties, and onto the floor mats of her car. The entire front seat reeked of sex. She was still catching her breath.

The impotent anger mixed with defending the very person who was subjecting him to wave after wave of humiliation, feminization, and debasement was too much. He'd even followed her quaking orders right after, albeit with a certain brattiness to it.

Sandra inhaled. This set up wasn't going to work. She'd arranged for a sabbatical from work, but sitting all day in the Starbucks parking lot while she feminized her Son just wasn't going to cut it. She turned her eyes to the chat.

The chat was still exploding with endless gifs and memes, all mocking Jaime's little outburst and suggesting on how he should be punished. Some were saying he should be forced to wear the outfit all day tomorrow, some were saying she should record herself melting the key to his cage with a blowtorch. Some particularly rambunctious viewers were even saying that he should be exposed to the most extreme hypnos she had, tied up and bound, and forced to watch until his brain melted into nothing but a lust for cock.

Sandra knew better though. She'd wanted him to show a little spine now and again to make it more fun, more of a challenge. But she'd already done all she needed to set up what she had in mind for him next. And all it needed was a light touch. A light touch that would pay greatly in dividends.

* * * * *

Jaime finished hiding the outfit in his closet, behind the suit he'd worn to his cousin's wedding back in Senior Year. He let out a sigh of relief as he was sure it couldn't be stumbled upon by accident, and then flopped down on his bed.

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

That meant he was free! For the rest of the day he was free of Mommy, and her endless torments. He could relax, put his guard down, live his life!

Having the time to think clearly he realised he was still wearing his Mother's burgundy romper. He cursed under his breath as he struggled his way out of it. How did girls wear things like this? You'd have to strip yourself almost naked just to use the washroom!

Jaime kicked it off his legs and watched it flop down in a heap on the floor. Then he looked down at the panties he was still wearing. She was gone. For now at least. If she came back she was going to punish him regardless. Jaime tugged off the panties. 'Anal Addict.' He loved his Mother but God these were slutty panties. He tossed them on top of the romper. He didn't need real underwear anyways, real men freeballed it from time to time!

Real men who weren't locked in chastity at least. Jaime stared at the little pink device that held his cock captive, the henna tattoo above it, proudly exclaiming his status as a Sissy. And Sissies wore panties...

Sissy panty slut.

Sissy panty slut.

Sissy panty sl-

No! Jaime fought back the fog, cleared his head. He was a man dammit! An adult! He was going to University, he had agency! He wasn't going to waste his freedom dazing off into nothingness. He found himself too often blacking out, losing time. It must be the stress right? But no more.

Jaime headed over to his wardrobe and pulled open a drawer, yanked out a fresh pair of jeans, and stepped into them. The denim was rough of his shaved legs. The coarse material of the crotch scratched his caged up clitty. Jaime powered through it, found a white undershirt and slipped it on. The material hooked and tugged at his stiff nipples, it didn't seem to sit right on him. He grabbed his hoodie off the back of his chair and pulled it over his head. The thick material was suffocating, it felt so restrictive.

Ignoring the discomfort, Jaime bundled up the romper and the panties and headed back to his Mother's room. He stuffed the panties into the bottom of her laundry hamper. Goosebumps ran up his arm as her delicates caressed his skin. He put the romper and all the other clothes back on their hangers, and neatly arranged them into her closet. It was a shame to hide these away. He closed the closet door behind him, as he scratched at his waist. Going without underwear was itchy business. He almost regretted it. Panties were so soft.

He set about doing his chores, putting real effort into them, making sure he didn't cut any corners. His Mother had given him the confidence to strike back, and while he still couldn't tell her what was happening, he was going to pay her back as best he could.

He swept and vacuumed the entire house, every room, every hall. It sure was nice and airy in that sundress.

He scrubbed the kitchen counters, shined the cutlery, cleaned the stove and fridge. That romper was kind of fun in its own way.

He dusted, fluffed pillows, cleaned baseboards, and reorganized shelves. Those tight jeans really hugged me in all the right places.

And finally, as the day drew to a close, he started making dinner. Fajitas, with freshly cut vegetables, 3 cheeses, toasted tortillas, and fresh salsa. I wonder if that was a maid outfit I saw in the corner.

Then he heard the latch flip, and the front door creak open.

* * * * *

Sandra had been on her feet all afternoon. Driving around the city, checking out listings. She didn't need much space, but she wanted her new personal office to be something nice if she was going to be spending her days there. Picking up a proper computer had been the right idea too. This laptop was a few years old now, and couldn't run most video editing software very quickly. She set down her bag and stared down the hall. Peeking out of the kitchen and into a pristinely cleaned hallway was her son Jaime.

"Hi Mom! How was work?"

Sandra smiled.

"Dreadful. I got chewed out by a coworker, made a mess of my office, and then spent the rest of the day running around like a chicken with its head cut off!"

Sandra kicked off her heels and started to take of her suit jacket.

"Mm, something smells good in here!"

"I made fajitas, and with perfect timing too I might add!"

"I'll say Jaime, they smell amazing!"

Sandra chuckled softly under her breath. If it weren't for the smell of his cooking, even he would have been able to notice that she stank of dirty sex and sweat.

"I'm just gonna have a quick shower and get changed, then we can eat."

* * * * *

Jaime busied himself with setting the table as he waited for his Mother. She was taking her time. He could hear the shower running in her bathroom all the way from the kitchen. He peeked his head out and looked down the hall. She hadn't closed her bedroom door. He bit his lip. He slowly crept down the hall. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? He should close her door, give her some privacy. He got closer to her room. From this angle he could see right to her bathroom. The door was open too. He could see the fogged glass of her shower, steam drifting from the room.

"Mom?"

He didn't get a reply. He was at her door. Staring across her room at the shower. He stepped in.

"Mom you alright?"

Still no answer. Slowly but surely he tread carefully over to her bathroom door.

"Mom? Are you there?"

The glass shower was fogged up both inside and out. He couldn't see. He'd have to open the door. See her naked. His own mom. See her naked again. Like last time, pounding her ass with that dildo. Anal Addict. Oh God.

"Mom I'm coming in!"

Jaime swung open the shower door. It was empty. Water streamed out of the head and pattered down onto the tile floor, then swirled down the drain. She wasn't there.

"Sorry Jaime, I was just getting changed."

Jaime felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped around with a start. His Mother was standing there, a soft smile on her face and a caring love in her eyes. She was wearing a burgundy romper as she patted him on the shoulder and asked him:

"So, what did you get up to today?~"

* * * * *

Thank you all for reading my latest chapter in the destruction of Jaime's fragile masculinity. It has been a bit of time since the last chapter but that doesn't mean I've given up on anything. Over the past few months I've been keeping track of every comment and every bit of feedback, and I wanted to make sure I started off Act 2 the right way for you all!

So just as before, use the comments section or send me feedback to let me know how much of a little Sissy Jaime is and how you'd like to put him in his place, or how much you wish it was you. Now that the ball has started truly rolling for him, I'm able to open the story up in a way that will allow me to incorporate much more of your feedback. So if there's anything you want to see Jaime wear, do, see, or have done to him, let me know. This story can be as much a product of your filthy imaginations as it is mine, so let the ideas flow, and let's see where it takes us.

Thank you kindly~

Mommy's Hypno Sissy