Under Mommy's Control: Foundation

Jaime's eyes went wide as he took in his surroundings. This place wasn't like any other store he'd ever been in. Unlike many big box stores, the layout was broken up into its different departments by walls and doorways. This gave every section its own distinct feel and ambience, specially designed to match the product it was selling.

As he walked through the airy and neutral coloured vestibule, clearly designed to be open and welcoming, he passed through a doorway and found himself in the Casual Wear department.

It was a barrage of colours and fabrics, with stylishly dressed mannequins flanking a central pathway that spread out into different styles and themes. In the centre, Jaime could see two horseshoe style register desks, back to back with each other where there was a short line of customers. All of them were women, ranging from mature looking business women, to young college aged girls, to older women and young mothers.

Jaime quickly went to take his place in line behind them, the lingerie under his clothes oddly being the least conspicuous thing about him in this store. A tall women in a dark red business suit locked eyes with him as he meekly walked past, he stare piercing right through him as he encroached on her territory. He took up a spot in line behind a bubbly college aged girl on her phone, who wouldn't stop talking to someone on the other line about her psychology class, and how the professor was obviously a psychopath.

Jaime found himself passively eavesdropping, becoming so invested in the conversation that he barely noticed when she had paid for her purchase without dropping stride in her conversation, and he was face to face with the young clerk behind the counter. She wore a deep red blouse and had her hair up in an immaculate bun to match the prim and proper look of her makeup. Jaime stared at her lips as the moved moved in flowing motions before him.

"I said, Sir, can I help you?"

Jaime's words caught in his throat as his brain shifted back into reality, and he choked out a broken sentence as he raspily found his voice.

"J-Jaime... for pickup!"

The clerk stared at him for a moment, then opened a dark red leatherbound book next to the register. Jaime watched the crimson painted fingernail trace up and down the page until it popped up, and jabbed at a line.

"Ah yes, a pick up for Ms. Jaime... "

The clerk looked up at him quickly with a blush that may have even matched his.

"I'm sorry Sir, Mr. Jaime. Someone must have made an assumption, we don't get many boys in her, or well, not like... nevermind Sir."

She quickly hid her face in an attempt to relieve them both the embarrassment of her mistake, and then quickly pulled out three large shopping bags, handing them to Jaime

"Please enjoy your purchase Sir!"

"Th-thank you, they're for my girlfriend!"

Jaime quickly about-turned, and sliding his arm through the handles of the bags, attempted to find his way to the next department. Looking down at his arm, he couldn't help but notice that the tops of the bags were sealed, probably for anti-theft reasons, hiding their contents from view. Looking back up, he found the doorway to Professional Wear before him.

Much like in Casual Wear, the clerk here had the same issue, with her logbook tracking him as Ms. Jaime, and Formal Wear was no better. Jaime however was becoming accustomed to the casual and accidental misgendering, and was more than eager to overlook it in order to see his task completed that much sooner.

All these bags were getting heavy however. Jaime took a look again at the list on his phone, seeing that he had just two more stops, but they consisted of another eight bags! As Jaime wandered through the store with his eyes on his phone, oblivious to the incredulous states from all the women around him, he finally found his way up an escalator, and into what seemed like the largest section of the store.

Looking up from his phone, and at his surroundings, Jaime found himself surrounded by a sea of unmentionables. Scantily clad mannequins on pedestals surveyed their domains, overlooking a landscape of panties, bras, stockings, nighties, swimsuits and everything in between.

Jaime strained to swallow as he saw a mannequin wearing a set of lingerie not all too different from his... er... his Mother's. As he blatantly gawked at the bold mannequin proudly displaying its outfit, he felt a delicate hand on his shoulder, and whipped around in an instant.

"Can I help you find anything in particular Sir?"

An older women, dressed in a dark red blouse and black knee-length pencil skirt stood before him. Her bust was at perfect eye-level for him as her 5 inch heels further exaggerated the height difference between him. Jaime stammered as her dragged his eyes up from her DD-cups, over her nametag which read 'Dominique' and finally up to her face. Her smokey eyeshadow outline eyes peered down into his, reading his facial expression as if he were a book.

"I-I'm just here picking up a purchase for my girlfriend..."

Jaime's voice trailed off, almost as if he'd given up in even trying to pretend that his lie had any shred of truth to it.

"Indeed? What's 'her' name?"

Jaime could hear the airquotes around the word 'her', the skepticism in her voice. He hadn't even thought this far, that he'd ever need to put a name to his lie, and so simply said the first female name that came to mind.

"S-Sandra?"

"Sandra? Lets see then..."

Dominique took up the leather bound book that she had at her side, and flipped through a few pages, her eyes darting up and down the page before quickly snapping the book shut and then leaning slightly to peer over her bosom and back down at Jaime.

"I have nothing on hold for anyone by the name of Sandra, are you sure you're not her for someone else...?"

Jaime could feel the weight of her implication, and knew that the answer he had for her next would only confirm whatever suspicions about him she harboured.

"I-It might be under my name... J-Jaime..."

All that his answer elicited was a raised eyebrow, as she took him by the shoulder, and led him in lockstep over to the customer service desk. She wordlessly bid him to wait as she went in back, and disappeared behind a set of double doors into the back rooms.

All Jaime could do was stand there and wait, his body stiff as a board, and his caged little dicklette as hard as it could manage. Something about the way she looked down on him, both literally and figuratively, made his heart pound in his chest. It was an all too familiar feeling as he realized that he had clearly developed a thing for dominant women, with powerful personalities...

His self reflection didn't last long however, as Dominique returned, with 5 bags along one arm, and a printed off receipt in her free hand. Her eyes looked it up and down studiously, like a scientist reading off the results of an important experiment. She stood silently before him, not even acknowledging his presence before she finally lowered the receipt, and extended the arm full of bags to Jaime.

As Jaime reached out to take the bags, she lifted her arm from his reach at the last moment.

"Sandra should consider coming herself next time, with an order this size she's eligible for a free custom fitting. There's nothing quite like lingerie that's tailored to fit."

Jaime nodded in agreement, and could feel his knees wobbling.

"I-I'll let her know!"

Grabbing the bundle of bags, Jaime made for a quick getaway. He wasn't sure if it was all the gorgeous women, the panties he was wearing, the fear of getting caught, or a combination of all three, but he could feel a damp spot in his crotch growing larger with each and every step.

He tried to ignore the feeling, and instead focused on searching for his final stop, the makeup counter. Just three more bags, and then he could leave, then he could go home, and try to think of a way out of all of this in the safety of his own room.

Then he spotted it. A set of five countertop islands, with tiered displays showing off various arrays of makeup pallets, batteries of different lipsticks, multitudes of mascaras, and an arsenal of eyeliners, with the central ringed counter serving as the customer service desk.

Standing behind the counter was a girl much different from all the others. She had the same deep red blouse and her hair jet black hair was up in a neat bun, but her makeup was entirely different. Her lipstick was pure black, and her eyeliner and mascara as dark as night, contrasting against her pale milky skin. It was almost as if she were completely monochrome, if it weren't for her piercing green eyes.

She stood there, not noticing Jaime from a distance, looking bored and disinterested as women milled about inspecting the different rouges and blushes. Jaime watched and waited for a moment, wanting for the other customers to move on before he approached and made his final pick up. Finally, as one of the last lingering ladies went in the direction of swimwear, he gathered up the last of his courage, and approached.

As he got closer, her eyes snapped to his. He could feel her looking right into him as he approached. He suddenly became aware of how tired and sore his arms were from caring everything. Of how much his clothes itched and chaffed at the gaps of skin between the protective layers of his Mother's lingerie. And especially of how tight the pink plastic cage was on his locked up dicklette. Jaime closed the distance, a mess of quivering nerves, and croaked out his request.

"I have a p-pick up... under the name J-Jaime?"

She looked him up and down, not saying a word. She peered back into his eyes, as if trying to read his mind. After a moment, seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she spoke.

"Are you picking up for someone else, or yourself?"

"F-for my girlfriend! Her name is Sandra!"

The cashier nodded, seemingly uninterested in half of what he said as she pulled out a leather bound ledger and started skimming through pages. Her eyes squinted, and the black borders of her eyeliner squeezed tight around them.

"Are you aware that as a result of high fraud in his department, we are required to ask a number of security questions of people doing remote pickups? It's just a series of simple questions that the original purchaser places to confirm your identity."

"I uh, n-no I didn't..."

She flipped a page and began reading before Jaime could adapt to the sudden interrogation.

"What is your Mother's first name."

Jaime winced, already feeling like he was caught in a lie.

"Er... it's... it's also Sandra..."

She raised an eyebrow, but kept he next question coming in rapid succession.

"What were your Mother's wedding colours?"

Another question with an answer that he was less than comfortable knowing.

"Pink and b-black..."

Her eye brow raised higher.

"Just one more. Are you wearing women's underwear?"

The question caught Jaime off guard like a side tackle, and he blurted put the first thing he could to hide his secret.

"N-no! I'm not... I..."

Ignoring his stammering, she snapped the book shut.

"I'm sorry sir, that's the wrong answer. I can't let you pick up this order unless I get confirmation from the original purchaser."

Her green eyes bored into his, her pale immaculate skin emotionless and still. Jaime in contrast continued to sputter, his face turning red in a mix of shamed confusion and distress.

He needed those bags! That was the arrangement! If he contacted her without having everything... no, he couldn't risk it...

"Wait... please..."

The cashier continued to stare at him.

"I know I got the answer wrong but... I know the answer..."

The cashier stared at him with her cold green eyes, her monotone voice carrying a hint of disdain towards Jaime's protests.

"It was a yes or no question Sir. I'm not about to risk my job over some silly prank security question."

Jaime tried to stiffen his quivering lip, but he could feel his composure slipping. Why did every single thing he did lately have to become such an ordeal? Why did it always have to feel like he was losing more and more control? And why did it feel like he was getting more emotional about everything?

Jaime but down on his tongue, using the pain to focus himself. He needed to do this. If he didn't, then everything was for nothing, and who knows what else Mommy would do... he couldn't risk letting that happen, letting his mother see him like that, having her know he was a... In a small voice, Jaime squeaked out a final objection.

"I can prove it.."

For a moment the cashier didn't react. She didn't do anything. But a quizzical look overcame her stalwart front of disinterest as his words piqued her interest.

"...excuse me Sir?"

This was his chance. His only hope. He had to double down.

"I can p-prove it... that I'm wearing... panties..."

As Jaime's small voice trailed off, the look of curiosity on the cashier's face slowly turned, contorting into a look of focus and determination. Her eyes scanned Jaime up and down as she performed calculations in her head about what he'd just said. With a sudden swiftness, she grabbed the phone by the register in one hand, and Jaime's wrist by the other.

"Carol, I'm taking my lunch, I need you to cover cosmetics."

She clacked the phone down on the receiver and turned to face Jaime.

"Drop those bags. You're coming with me."

Her hand squeezed and twisted Jaime's wrist, and he let out a cry of pain as he dropped everything he was carrying, and began to be dragged away by the cashier. He didn't have a moment to react before he noticed that she was leading him to a side door labelled "employees only."

She pushed her way through the side door, Jaime struggling to keep in step behind her. A maze of side passages and side rooms had his head spinning as he tried to figure out where they were going, but it wasn't long before she had brought him to a large industrial elevator. Rows of clothes racks were jammed inside, leaving just enough room by the control panel for her to stuff Jaime in, and squeeze in after.

Her body pressed up tightly against his as she crammed her in with him, crushing Jaime between the racks of clothing, and the pert round ass that he was nothing for the first time. Her pencil skirt perfectly outlined her ass and had Jaime's locked up clitty straining as he began to think of how he'd look wearing such a...

"Eyes level! This isn't a sight seeing tour!"

Jaime quickly stammered out a meek apology as the elevator gate closed, and the platform shuddered beneath him. Slowly it began its descent, lowering into the ground as Jaime watched the floor he was just on disappear above him. It was only now, trapped in the moving confines of this mechanical box, that he began to worry about where she was taking him. For some reason, sad soon as she'd taken control, he'd just gone with everything she was doing. Now that he had a moments pause, the worry and dread began to creep in.

The elevator came to a stop with a heavy thud, and the cage doors pulled open revealing a large warehouse area. Jaime squinted his eyes to adjust to the relatively dim light compared to the brightly lit sales area. Rows and rows of shelving went on as far as he could tell, holding what must have been thousands upon thousands of feminine treasures. Treasures?

No more boy clothes.

Embrace femininity.

Jaime couldn't lie to himself that as he was dragged through the warehouse, his mind wasn't on the the ass of the goth-ish girl dragging him along, but on the flashes of lace and satin as he passed by the aisles. Somewhere along the long of this whole ordeal, a switch had flipped inside of him, and he could no longer deny that he was anticipating unpacking all these clothes when he got home.

No more boy clothes.

Embrace femininity.

Jaime felt a tingle inside himself as he thought about whatever clothes were in those bags. The dresses, the blouses, the panties, the swimsuits, the bras, the stockings... every thought he had about them was making his stomach flutter, and it scared him. He still had to hide them, he still couldn't get caught! If his Mother ever found out just half of what he'd been doing while she was at work...

"We're here."

Jaime stumbled to a sudden halt as he found himself in front of what appeared to be a large cage. Inside he could make out shelves with rows of little boxes that he couldn't make out the brands for. As he stared at the odd set up in front of him, the cashier let go of his wrist, and began fishing around in her pockets as she approached the cage. Producing a set of keys, she turned a serious looking padlock, and dragged open the rolling gate into the cage. Turning back to Jaime, she pointed towards the cage's entrance.

"Inside. Now."

Once again suddenly aware of the situation he was in, Jaime nervously stepped forward.

"Faster. All I have to do is scream and security will be down here in a second."

Faced with her sudden motivation, Jaime quickly scurried into the cage, ducking his head down as passed her, almost cowering from her proximity. As soon as he was in, she wheeled after him, pulling the cage shut and reattaching the lock.

"There. Now you've nowhere to go."

Jaime turned slowly, watching her stride towards him, her movement emitting and aura of authority over him. With a nimble hand, she grabbed a hold of his ear, eliciting a Yelp as once again she dragged him along.

Around the back shelf of the cage, Jaime saw her leading him to a small curtained off area. She yanked the curtain aside and pushed him in, before tugging the curtains shut behind her.

Looking around, it seemed like they were in a hidden area of the store, obscured from prying eyes by the rows of shelving, and the impromptu privacy curtain. Opened boxes were scattered across the floor of this narrow space, betraying years worth of inventory loss. There was an old looking armchair, with a tattered sticker across one of the arms that said 'CLEARANCE' in big faded red lettering. A dusty vanity was pressed up against the wall, it's surface covered in an assortment of cosmetics, and it's tarnished mirror bearing a collage of lipstick kisses around its border.

Claire 1983

Louise 1992

All the kisses had names and dates next to them, historic signatures from the stores previous staff.

Zanya 2008

Charlotte 2021

Sandra 1997

Jaime found himself shoved forward, kicking scattered boxes around, and tripping onto the large dusty armchair, before forcing himself up to face his assailant.

"You have one chance. Prove it. Right here. Right now. If you hesitate, I'll scream."

Jaime saw her take in a breath of air, and with all the dexterity his trembling finger could manage, he unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled down the fly, holding the crotch of his jeans open to show off the bold pink and black of his Mother's supposed bridal lingerie. He kept his hands tight against his thighs, desperate to show as little as possible and hide even further shame. Jaime clenched his eyes shut and turned away, preparing for the onslaught of vicious laughter. What he heard was worse.

"No. Take them off. The hoodie too. And keep your eyes shut."

Jaime hesitated. He squinted his eye open just enough to see her take in a breath before he cried out.

"N-no please! I-I'll do it..."

"Now."

Jaime swallowed hard, and with trembling hands let go of his jeans. The slit half way down his thighs, and he could feel the cold air of the warehouse on the band of bare skin between his stockings and the panties. He blindly reached down, groping for the, for a moment before he had them down around his ankles.

He couldn't hear her, but he could feel her eyes on him, watching him expose his sissy secret to her, bearing himself to her mercy. Kicking off his shoes, he stepped out of his pants onto the warehouse floor. He could feel the cold through the stockings and a shiver went down his spine, from a mixture of the chill and the violation of being forced to strip.