Date: Mon, 09 Nov 2009 20:45:36 -0500 From: Stephen Crowley Subject: Catching Dennis 4 DENNIS #4 - THE BRIDGE GAME * * * * * * * * * * * Dennis? Yes, Mommy? Mrs. Steffan's daughter had her baby yesterday, so instead of having the bridge club at her house today, I'm having the other mommies here this afternoon... Well, I'll be home at - No, I need you to stay home today because someone has to refill our drinks and empty the ashtray while we play. I called your school this morning and told them you won't be in class today. Have you finished your eggs and toast? I'm eating, Mommy. Well make sure you do. She crushed the blue pill and mixed it into the orange juice glass before turning to place it beside his plate. Now, drink all of your juice, Dennis. Mommy expects you to be her good little weenie boy today. But I... Drink it down, Dennis. What are you wearing under your jeans? My - my panties, Mommy - The pink ones? Yes, Mommy. That's a good boy. Are they tight? Yes, Mommy. Well they better be. We don't want Mommy's friends to see your nastiness today, do we? No, Mommy. Did you touch yourself this morning? Only - only a little... when I washed it... Did you masturbate, Dennis? Only a little bit. Not completely... Not completely? Did you stop before it made juice? Yes, Mommy. Well, I hope so. We wouldn't want to start off the day with a punishment, young man. Would we? No Mommy. I'm finished my plate. Well that's how I like to see you starting the day - and you finished your orange juice I see - all of it. You're Mommy's good boy. Now I want you to go upstairs while I do the dishes and gather up Daddy's dirty socks and shorts for the laundry hamper, then carry it down to the basement for me. Yes, Mommy. And Dennis - listen to me - you're just to gather them, do you understand? Yes, Mommy. What does that mean, Dennis? It means - it means no sniffing, Mommy. That's right. No touching your weenie. I know... * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Mommy's friends started arriving at about two-thirty. By now Dennis was pretty good at mixing the whiskey and soda for Mommy and Daddy when they came home from work, and as he stood at the kitchen counter stirring the four glasses he remembered what Mommy had told him before her friends started to arrive. Obediently he put on the frilly pink apron over his jeans and made sure his T-shirt was tucked in before carrying the tray out into the living room where the bridge table was set up. Besides Mommy, Mrs. Wilson, Mrs. Barber, Mrs. Nockett and Mrs. Tedder were seated around the table, helping themselves to the chex mix and talking loudly about the ways that their husbands seemed to be staying later and later at work every day. Dennis placed each glass beside them quietly and hoped that they wouldn't notice the way that his thick weenie was tenting the jeans he wore, pulsing and throbbing uncontrollably no matter how much he tried to control it. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * You certainly have your boy well-trained, Maggie, although I must say that he mixes some strong drinks. Could you freshen my glass, Dennis? He quickly did exactly that, dumping a jigger and a half of the scotch into the glass and filling it with soda water and two more ice cubes. My boy is so wrapped up in his video games that he'd never even listen if I tried to teach him how to be so helpful. Doesn't little Dennis look so sweet in his apron too? Mommy spoke with a calm tone of authority: Mike and I have been very firm with Dennis since he started puberty. We found that he was just unable to control those nasty urges that some teenage boys develop - - - guidance is what is needed. Guidance and some strict but loving discipline - rules. Well, it certainly seems to be paying off. After catching him in chronic masturbation - soiling his bedsheets and pulling on his penis like a randy little monkey - we set up a rigorous routine of enforced control...but like all adolescent boys he has wicked thoughts and gives in to temptation. He thinks we don't know about his nastiness, but he's finding out the hard way that parents know more than he thinks. Isn't that right, Dennis? Y-yes, Mommy... Yes what? Y-yes, you know about my... About your what, Dennis? About - about my naughty weenie, Mommy. The ladies at the table giggled and laughed a little as his face turned bright red... And what makes your weenie so naughty, young man? Dirty - it's my dirty... thoughts... Dirty thoughts about what? About Daddy's underpants. His underpants, you say? Is that all? No, Mommy. What else, Dennis? What else do you think about? Daddy's socks. His what? Daddy's - dirty - dirty socks... I see. And tell Mrs. Nockett what you like to do with Daddy's dirty socks. I - I smell them - - - You smell them when? When I masturbate my weenie, Mommy. The ladies - especially Mrs. Nockett - let out a loud whoop of laughter. Oh, Maggie - that's just too much! I thought my boy was a perv when I found Jack's Hustler magazines under his mattress, but - - oh, that's just too much! They laughed again. Mommy cleared her throat and spoke sternly even as he stood there and his lower lip quivered in nervous embarrassment - But we found a way to control that nastiness, didn't we Dennis? Didn't we? Yes, Mommy. How do we control your wicked weenie, young man? Mrs. Nockett interrupted excitedly - Oh yes - tell us how you control it! Mommy stared directly at him in the silence. We're waiting Dennis! Tell us how you control your filthiness. He sort of shuffled his feet as he stared at the floor and spoke almost in a hoarse whisper. With... panties... With what, Dennis? Speak up! With - with panties, Mommy. They laughed again, even louder - Mrs. Barber chortled as she spoke - Oh Maggie - that's precious, that's what it is! Panties! \i Mommy acted like she hadn't even heard the remark and became even sterner. What KIND of panties, Dennis? I want a description, young man. They're... they're tight... they're tight to hold my weenie in... and - - and - - - And WHAT? They're pink. Even Mommy laughed loudly with the others at this remark and his boyish face was now redder than ever. Show us your panties. Dennis. Show us now! Lift up that apron and unfasten those pants before I turn you over my knee and spank your bare little heinie in front of everyone! NOW! Fumbling, he pulled up the frilly apron and unbottoned the jeans, pulling them down slowly - too slowly - We're waiting, young man! We don't have all afternoon for your foolishness - PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS! NOW! He let out a little sob as he yanked them down to his knees. He didn't know why his weenie was so stiff, but it made the panties stick straight out and there was no way to hide it. Mrs. Nockett let out a little squeal - Oh, my goodness! That's such a large penis, Maggie - I never imagined a boy so young... look how the wet spot glistens through that silky, frilly pink fabric... Mommy was scolding him sternly - Can't you EVER control that filthiness, young man? Look at that! Showing all of Mommy's friends how wicked you are! Come here! Come over here now! He quietly walked over and stood in front of her as she gripped each side of the panties and pulled them down all the way to his knees with one swift yank. His erect weiner bobbed up and down, thick and throbbing and swollen with uncontrollable teenboy lust. The ladies at the table audibly caught their breath as they watched intently. Well, we just can't tolerate that, Dennis - do you hear? You obviously need relief for that nasty wiener. Since you enjoy masturbating so much - show us how you touch yourself. He stammered - - What, Mommy - ??? TOUCH YOURSELF! Wank that willy! Masturbate! NOW! Every eye was intensely focused on him as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his boner and started slowly to stroke - up and down, slowly - closing his eyes so he couldn't see how they stared at him - Mommy's voice was now softer but clear in the silence. What are you thinking about, Dennis? Tell Mommy about your dirty thoughts now - - - come on, tell us - - - He was desperate to get this humiliation over with and quickly started to jack it faster and faster - ... it's Daddy's - - - Daddy's - - - it's Daddy in his boxer shorts - - - the plaid ones - - - What do they look like, Dennis? His - - - his weiner is so, so hard and... it's sticking out of the flap, Mommy. . . so big, Mommy . . . so big and in my dream he's pulling it back and - - - And what? ... so hard... and the pink head is dripping and he's - he's pulling the skin back and - - - he's - - - And what do you want to do, Dennis? I wanna - - - He was now masturbating faster than he's ever done it before, feeling his weenie throb and thicken as he spoke - You want to what? I wanna - - - I wanna touch - - - I wanna lick Daddy's dirty - dirty - - - I wanna lick Daddy's dirty dickhead, Mommy - - - I wanna taste - - - oh! Oh! I'm - I'm - - - The thought of it was fierce and he couldn't hold it back anymore. Oh, Mommy, I'm... I'm... His teenage jism shot wads - gobs - splashing all over Mommy's front and the other ladies made little moaning noises as they rubbed their legs together - - - He was finished. Well - Mommy's voice was now suddenly toneless and matter-of-fact ... Well, I certainly expect you to clean up that mess, Dennis. I expect you to clean it up now, just the way I taught you to. Now. In front of the ladies he wordlessly got down on all fours and started to lick the drops up, one after another...