Author: Lizard69
Title: Girlfriends
Part: Part 7
Summary: It's for your own good... really!
Keywords: Mb Mg bb Fdom

   This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary
between fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If the story codes following the
title freak you out, don't read it.  If I mis-coded drop me a note through
the author email link at ASSTR.  Do not under any circumstances forward
this file to anyone that hasn't specifically requested it.  In case you
haven't figured it out yet this is intended as *adult* entertainment.  Do
not allow it to be accessed by minors.  If you have inadvertently
downloaded it in a jurisdiction where such material isn't legal please
delete it immediately.  Do not re-post in whole or in part without this
notice.  Do not repost on any "for profit" site without my specific written
permission.  Copyright 2013 by Lizard69.

Girlfriends Part 7 (Mb Mg bb Fdom)
Lizard69



   Billy was just leaving as Timmy's mom pulled into the driveway.  The bag
of groceries she picked up on the way home from work wasn't that heavy. 
Along with her laptop and briefcase though the load was awkward enough she
was glad her son held the door.  It wasn't until he started blushing that
she realized she was wearing the sort of superior smirk he'd started
calling *that* smile.

   "Sorry hon, I know it bothers you a little that your mother thinks
you're a cute kid.  It probably doesn't make it any easier that your friend
Billy is also cute.  It drives you up a wall that your mother knows about
the two of you being together that way.  I try to ignore it but sometimes
that just isn't possible."

   "You could if you really wanted to!"

   "You think so?  You think you could do better?  Try this.  Right now,
think about anything at all, except a purple horse."

   Her smile got wider as his blush deepened.

   "Can't do it, can you?  Well, there isn't a woman on earth who could
find out a couple of cute boys were doing each other, and not think about
it.  Compared to you, ignoring a purple pony is easy.  Go ahead and get
cleaned up.  I have a friend from my college days coming over for dinner.
Try to be nice, OK?  If we start to bore you later you can watch a movie
downstairs.  We'll try to stay out of your hair."

   When Ellie showed up with a couple bottles of wine to serve with the
meal Mary hesitated for a minute then set a wine glass for Timmy as well. A
couple of glasses with food weren't enough to get a buzz going even in a
kid his size.  It did leave him a lot more relaxed and tolerant when they
started reminiscing about their college days.  By the time he grabbed a
movie and headed for the rec room they had cracked the second bottle.  It
wasn't hard to ignore them at first.  The most action filled movie still
has quiet scenes, and every now and then he'd hear his mom and her friend
upstairs giggling like a couple of school girls.  Before too long he needed
to use the bathroom.  What he heard as he started back downstairs set his
cheeks burning.

   "...can't believe it!  He seems like such a nice boy!"

   "He is!  Ok, I'll admit I'm biased.  He isn't perfect and probably
isn't as close to it as I'd like to believe.  Most ways, most of the time,
he's a pretty good kid."

   "That's not what I meant and you know it.  Sure he's a *nice* boy.  I
thought he was a nice *boy*.  The way that ape is fucking him makes me
cringe, how can you sit there watching a video of some guy doing that to
your son?"

   "Perverted huh?  It helps that this isn't the first time I've seen it.
Wait until you see the rest.  This won't look so bad."

   "You're telling me it gets worse?"

   "It gets...  different.  How old were you the first time you did it
with a grown man, not some kid your own age?"

   "No older than Timmy, but it, uh, wasn't exactly my idea."

   "You were raped?"

   "Not really.  I knew what he was after.  I was pretty sure that if I
gave him an opportunity something would happen.  I didn't have any sort of
crush on him and certainly wasn't expecting flowers and poetry.  What I got
was about as far from that as you can imagine.  It wasn't really rough,
though I got the impression it could get that way if I didn't go with the
flow.  Mostly it was, I guess crude is the word I'm looking for."

   "Sort of like Bob and Timmy?"

   "Yeah, but I'm not a boy."

   "Was it a one time thing, or did you go back for more?"

   "Well, maybe I'm a pervert too.  Sometimes crude is just what you want."

   "Uh huh.  Timmy's a boy.  He's not a *little* boy, not anymore.  He has
learned how to pleasure himself.  He has a girlfriend.  I don't know how
physical their relationship is but if they stay together long enough it
will get there.  He has at least one male friend his own age that he has...
experimented, with.  I wouldn't call what they do making love.  It's
primarily a physical thing.  While there's some degree of intimacy it's
more a matter of boys playing.

   "What he's doing with adult men isn't just on a different level.  It's
a whole different game."

   "I'd say!"

   "While the role play he's engaging in is completely consensual, the
role itself isn't so clear.  He refers to it as, 'being a girl', but it
doesn't involve acting feminine.  Bob's role is that of a heterosexual male
who desires sex with a young girl.  In clinical terms he's a straight
pedophile.  The scene you just watched is an example of what I'd describe
as blind lust.  While Bob would prefer a girl, Timmy is young and cute. 
Most importantly, he's *there*.  So a straight boy gets used as a
substitute for the girl Bob would prefer."

   "Ok, I can sort of understand that much.  It's hard to tell from this
video but it appears to be consensual.  I mean there's no sound and we
don't know how they got to the point where it starts.  Just because he
undressed and didn't struggle doesn't mean he wasn't blackmailed or there
wasn't some ape standing off camera with a shotgun."

   "We haven't discussed these videos in much detail.  Bob left the area
before I knew they existed.  You don't want to read too much into an
erection but there was obviously some degree of anticipation before he
undressed.  If you'll pour us another round I'll check on my problem child."

   From the living room end of the hall Timmy didn't quite manage to make
it back to the basement steps before his mom saw him.  Mary wasn't going to
let it turn into a shouting match with a guest in the house.  She probably
wouldn't have anyway.  By keeping their voices down and leaving the TV on
they had as much privacy as possible with another person in the house.

   "Mom!  How could you?!"

   "Calm down.  Ellie and I have been friends since college.  As you've
pointed out more than once, just because I'm in a position to give you
orders doesn't always mean I know what I'm doing.  Coping with this is the
biggest parenting challenge I've faced so far.  I'm certainly not going to
tell the whole planet what's going on at this address, but I'm going to get
any advice I can from the people I trust that much.

   "While we're on the subject of trust, you wouldn't be upset right now
if you hadn't been eavesdropping.  I'm not going to censor my discussion
with Ellie to preserve your misplaced modesty.  I suppose I could tie you
up in the basement, but that's something you might talk about and social
services might take seriously.  Take off your clothes"

   "What?!"

   "You heard me.  Undress.  Now.  I want you barefoot all the way up to
your ears.  I'll leave your clothes in your room.  Don't even think about
sneaking up there to get dressed until I give you permission."

   Timmy thought he was about as embarrassed as he could get until his mom
stopped with his clothes in her hands half way up the stairs and flashed
him *that* smile.

   "This may sound cruel.  Maybe it is, a little.  I'm not very happy with
you right now.  I'm going to finish showing Ellie the video.  I know this
won't stop you if you're determined to snoop.  It will make the situation
amusing enough to be worth the effort of trying to catch you at it."

   It wasn't actually cold downstairs, just a little too cool to be
comfortable.  Along with his imagination adding a mocking tone to the half
heard conversation of the women it was impossible to concentrate on the
movie.  He couldn't watch something different.  Their DVD collection was in
the living room.  Except...

   Timmy got down on his hands and knees.  Reaching through the bottom
shelf of the entertainment center, he groped around on the floor behind it.
The unmarked DVD-R he pulled out was something Billy had brought back from
vacation at his uncles place.  They'd hardly started watching it a few day
earlier when Debbie showed up unexpected.  As he dropped it in and hit play
Timmy couldn't help thinking about Debbie and Billy.  It struck him as a
little strange that while he could watch a porn vid with either one,
watching with both at once was embarrassing.

   The blond in the opening scene wasn't all that cute but the way she was
gobbling that guys dick got a rise out of his own.  When she began to fuck
her partners ass Timmy thought she was wearing a strapon.  He was still
trying to imagine Debbie doing that to him when he realized that the,
"girl", on screen was wearing crotchless panties.  That was her own cock
going up a guys ass.  After several more scenes of different varieties of
kink, one opened with what looked like a horse blanket thrown over a hay
bale in somebodies barn.

   An older man came into view, not fat but husky and packing a middle aged
gut.  The boy he pushed ahead of him wasn't really fighting, but plainly
had a good idea of what was coming and wasn't looking forward to it.  The
man had tied a knot in a large bandanna and wrapped the free ends around
his fist behind the boys head after stuffing the knot in the kids mouth. 
The boys head was being forced towards the bale regardless of how his body
was trying to stop or at least change directions.  Timmy thought the
struggle would be a lot more convincing if there was more clothing in view
than the knotted bandanna, and the boys cock wasn't as stiff as the man
behind him.  It wasn't until the kid was kneeling bent over one end of the
bale, head turned to keep from having his nose rammed into the blanket,
that Timmy saw it was his friend Billy!  The man, it must be Billy's uncle
dipped his free hand behind the bale and brought up a couple of fingers
holding a blob of grease.

   "I love the first time after you get here!  It's like riding a horse
that's pretty well trained but hasn't been saddled for a year.  Reach back
and spread your cheeks, unless you want me to skip the lube and ram it in
dry.  It's time for you to find out why I called and told you not to jack
off for a week.  You just try to relax while I get you opened up and
slippery.  I haven't popped a load since I called you.  So as soon as I can
do it without tearing you up, I'm gonna fuck you like I haven't had any for
a year.  When the head of my cock pops inside you can let go of your ass
and start jacking off.  We're gonna have a little race.  If you can show me
a palm full of spunk before I cum I'll lick your hand clean when I'm done
and we'll move on to doing other things for a while.  If I finish first
you're gonna lick your shit off my dick while you get me hard enough to go
again.  That might not be fair but hey, fair doesn't happen in the real
world, not even for a pretty little fairy like you."

   Billy won his race and the scene ended.  Timmy didn't know what to think
at first.  While the video was almost identical to some scenes of him and
Bob, it was different too.  He blushed a little over the erection that had
formed while he watched his friend.  Recalling the times he'd been in that
situation, crying and struggling like a girl being raped, frantically
jerking his own cock while Bob was using him, he blushed even deeper. 
Timmy knew if he was struggling it was because he wanted to, wanted Bob to
*make* him do it.  If he was jerking his own cock he was either too
impatient to wait for Bob to make him cum, or trying to give the pervert
the added thrill of *raping* a kid into an orgasm.  Bob never filmed them
together.  He didn't know about the security cameras.  If he did film them
together he would have filmed all of it.  He had the impression that
Billy's uncle had stopped because *he* was finished.  He would have kept it
going if Billy was sucking cock.  Bob would have filmed himself slurping
cum off Timmy's hand.  He was hiding the DVD when his moms voice from the
stairs froze him in place.

   "Wouldn't it be easier to keep it in your room?  You look cute in that
position but it has to be sort of awkward.  Besides, one recordable in a
stack of others is a lot less suspicious than a orphan disk behind the
entertainment center.  I found it the other day when I was vacuuming.  I
haven't had a chance to watch it yet.  From your present physical state I'd
guess you found it interesting.  Give it to me."

   "Mom!  Please!  I can't!  Uh, it doesn't belong to me."

   "Ok, I'll give you a choice.  I'd guess that you got it from your
friend Billy.  Is that right?"

   "Uh, Yeah."

   "You can let me view the contents and return the disk to you.  If he
finds out I've seen it, you can truthfully tell him I found it while
cleaning.  Whether or not you fill him in on this discussion is totally up
to you.  The other choice is that I go to him with that disk in my hand and
ask his permission to view it.  I'll tell him how I found it and you
informed me it was his property.  I'm not the police and I'm not *his*
mother.  In the unlikely event that I find the contents too objectionable,
I'll return the disk and caution him that I don't want any more of that in
my house.  If he won't permit me to watch the video, I'll ask him to leave
and not come back.  I *am* your mother.  This *is* my home.  He can allow
me to inspect anything he brings on the premises or stay the hell out. 
It's your choice but you don't have to make it right this minute.  I
actually came down to bring you some clothes so you can join us upstairs if
you'd like."

   "Sure...  Uh, mom?  Those are my girl clothes."

   "That's right.  We're having sort of a girls night in.  After watching
you, 'be a girl', for Bob, Ellie would like you to share some girl talk
with us.  If you're in a skirt we can discuss things she'd never talk about
with a boy."

   "What things?"

   "I could guess.  Maybe you can too.  It's better if you just come
upstairs.  If you start getting creeped out you can always come back down
here or go to your room."

   He almost turned around the instant he got to the living room.  Ellie
was wearing *that* smile, but it wasn't quite as bad as seeing it on his
mom.  She quickly got it under control when she saw how nervous he was.

   "I know this is, like, really awkward for you.  Women who are almost
strangers will discuss things men won't talk about even with their best
friend.  If it seems like what I'm asking is too personal, or you're
getting too much information, especially about your moms history, try to
just go with it.  Ok?  Maybe you can think of it as more practice for being
a girl.

   "When your mom and I met in college she had more experience with boys
even though I started younger.  I had fewer dates but more of them were
with men.  All of her boyfriends had been within a few years of her own
age, and just as inexperienced.  She didn't understand the difference back
then and probably doesn't now, not really.  She's obviously been with men,
but as a grown woman.  There's no way she can turn back the clock and
experience it as a *girl*.

   "The society we live in tries to keep kids, 'innocent', as long as
possible.  Did you know that innocent used to be a polite way of saying
ignorant?  If a teacher described one of his students as, 'completely
innocent of the basic concepts of algebra', he was saying the kid either
hadn't progressed that far in their education, or had the course but was
too dim to absorb the information.  Saying someone is sexually innocent is
the same as saying they're selectively ignorant.  I started getting horny
around ten or eleven.  I can't remember any closer than that because it
didn't happen very often at first and I didn't recognize the sensation for
what it was.  By the time I was twelve I was thinking about sex whenever I
didn't have something else to keep me occupied.  I was a very busy child,
soaking up new ideas like a sponge from anyone who had something to teach
me.

   "One of our neighbors made cement yard art.  After the first time, mom
made me change into old clothes whenever I went over there to get in the
way and ask a bazillion questions.  You're a growing kid.  If you're
talking clothes you know how, -�old -�, means short, or tight, or both.  It
didn't take him long to figure out that the easiest way to keep from
tripping over me was to leave a clamp off of a mold, and ask me to hold it
while it set up.  I didn't realize what was happening at first.  The garage
started to shrink.  Like, the project I was holding together was always
between whatever he was working on next, and the stuff he needed to do it.
He was constantly brushing up against me or reaching past me to get
something.

   "I still feel a little retarded when I think about how long it took me
to figure out what he was doing.  I didn't catch a clue until the day I was
standing there in a tight pair of shorts and a halter two sizes too small,
half bent over holding a mold shell together while he reached around me to
set clamps.  The first clamp held more than I did.  What he really wanted
was something to grind the lump in his Levi's against.

   "I got sort of flustered and left.  Helping him wasn't an every day
thing so taking a couple days to think it over didn't get him worried.  The
next time he did it I didn't say anything, but turned and looked at him
like I thought he was the nastiest, creepiest, pervo on earth.  He blushed
really heavy and the next couple of times he didn't need any special help.
After a while he must have decided I wasn't going to tell and he asked me
to hold something.  Instead, I gave him a dirty look, walked over to his
workbench, and grabbed the edge with both hands.  It felt like forever but
the clock on the wall in front of me moved less than a minute before his
hands were gripping my waist as he ground himself against me.  A couple
minutes more and he made a quick stop at the trash can before we went back
to setting up forms.  When he refilled his coffee I checked and spotted a
used condom in with the other trash.

   "He moved pretty fast after that.  A couple weeks later he had my
shorts down and my shirt up, shoving his cock up inside me.  We never
talked, not while he was doing it, or about it.  It wasn't like having a
boyfriend.  What he did was...  abusive.  I guess we had a sort of
relationship, me asking questions and him acting like a tutor for shop
class.  He was smart, and funny, and patient with all my questions.  Then
I'd feel his arm around my shoulders or his hand on my back moving me
towards something solid.  I'd get a grip on it, then stand there trying not
to cry while he pulled my pants down.  Like I said, all of it was abusive.
At first it was frightening and embarrassing as well as painful while his
penis was stretching my vagina until I could, 'take it like a big girl'. 
Later it was mostly...  well, degrading.  The worst part was that in some
really messed up way, I liked it."

   Timmy's head snapped around and he stared at Ellie round eyed.

   "Uh-huh, just like you."

   "I...  Uh...  You don't know..."

   "Oh relax!  It's just us girls.  You don't have to pretend, and your
mom needs to know.  She's never had it like that.  She could come close if
she wanted to, pick up some huge roughneck, keep her mouth shut and let him
do whatever.  It wouldn't be the same though, as some sweet young kid being
used by a pervert.  After a while even the normal stuff starts to feel
creepy.  You're working on a project or helping with chores, knowing all
the time what will happen later.  Whenever some normal person comments
about you being together you wonder what they would think if they knew he
was fucking you.  You don't have to fib to me.  I've been there, or at
least somewhere close.  You got taken instead of seduced.  Being a boy puts
it on a different level of degrading.  Not too different, you like it as
much as I did."

   "I guess."

   "No guessing.  If Bob called right now and told you he was going to
drag you into his van and make you, 'be a girl', you'd get stiff before you
hung up the phone.  You'd be squirming in your seat waiting for him to pull
into the driveway.  You might blush a little going out the door.  It would
be worse coming back in.  There isn't anything much more degrading than
having your mother sitting here waiting for some pervo to finish with you.
Unless maybe it's having her walk in while you're begging to be fucked like
a girl."

   "She *told* you?"

   "Can you blame her?  I've know your mom longer than you've been alive.
Most ways, most of the time, she's pretty cool.  But she's also a parent.
That means putting the safety and well being of her kid ahead of personal
preferences.  Decent people would consider a woman who let her boy hang out
with somebody like Bob to be just as creepy as the pervert fucking her kid,
maybe worse.  The only acceptable excuse, and I'm talking just barely
acceptable, is being absolutely certain you'd find some way to do it no
matter how hard she tries to stop you.  You took the wrong ski trail. 
There's no going back.  You're going to get hurt.  The best she can do is
stick with you while trying to avoid the deadly dangers.  The big question
is how willing are you to let her help?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Bob left with no warning, no farewell.  What if your mom told him you
could do whatever you liked but she didn't trust him anymore to be alone
with you.  If he wants to make you be a girl, he has to come in here where
she can make sure things don't get out of hand.  Could you do it?"

   "You mean sex?  In front of my mom?"

   "She's seen the video.  She's walked in on you by accident.  She even
set you up with a guy she trusts.  Now she's making you get into your girl
clothes and answer my questions."

   "Hey!  I'm not making him do this!"

   "Whatever.  So Timmy, if Bob came through the door right now wanting to
make you be a girl, could you do it?  Could you ask for it, so that
everyone here is sure that's what you really want?"

   The thought of something like that made him blush.  Realizing that it
was one of those questions that if you had to think, everybody knew what
your answer would be, made it worse.  Soon Ellie was cracking *that* smile
again, and his mom was trying desperately to keep a straight face.

   "It could never happen.  Bob couldn't...  Mom would never ask him to...
Not like *THAT*."

   "Maybe you're right.  I guess your mom didn't tell you.  One reason I'm
here tonight is that Bob called her earlier today.  She needed somebody to
talk it over with that wasn't personally involved.  For the record, I think
you're right.  I don't believe your mom could call Bob and tell him to come
and get it.  But, you know, when you started hanging with him she got his
number on her cell.  It's still there.  I checked earlier when she went to
the bathroom.  Did more than check, I called him and told him to come over
unless you or your mom called back to cancel."

   "Oh God!  Bob?!  Really?!"

   "Ellie, we've been friends a long time and I know you have a warped
sense of humor, but tell me you didn't!"

   "Check your call log...  or wait for the doorbell.  As to why, it
should be plain as day."

   "Well it isn't to me.  Maybe you should explain before I throw you out."

   "Deep down you're still a prude.  You're also controlling and
manipulative.  I'll give you some credit.  You do try to keep a lid on it.
You're reconciled to the idea that your son *is* going to have a sex life,
and you're trying to stay out of the way as much as your nature permits. 
You're still trying to dictate who and where.  You'd be telling him what
and when if you could get past your own prudishness.  Right now you act
like the anti-porn crusader who had to watch the film he's denouncing
twenty times to thoroughly comprehend it's depravity.  You claim to be
shocked and embarrassed by what he's done.  You're so shocked that you
posted video clips on a child porn site?  You're so embarrassed that you
called a friend you haven't seen in ten years to gossip about all the
gruesome details?  Puh-lease!

    "You could prove me wrong.  Bob isn't here yet.  Hit redial on your phone 
and tell him to stay away...  or sit tight and see how this plays out.


End part 7