Date: Mon, 4 Mar 2013 19:06:17 -0800 (PST) From: Jane Parks Subject: Bank Mommy Bank Mommy Jane Parks (F/f, F/Ff, Humil.) Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! By reading further, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. Jenny has been a very good little girl. And very good little girls get stories. Lisa was caught red-handed. Why did these things always have to happen to her? She was only doing what Ms. Heard had instructed her to do. Ms. Heard, her boss at her brand new job at the bank, had explicitly told her earlier this afternoon to; "be sure to hand wash and dry my panties when you get home, Lisa stupid. Bring them in all fresh and ready tomorrow afternoon when you come to work." She was only following Ms. Heard's instructions when her mother caught her hand washing the older woman's panties in the bathroom sink that evening. Why was her mother always showing up at just the wrong time? "What are you doing, Lisa?" Sylvia, Lisa's mother was standing in the bathroom doorway, hands on hips, a sour scowl on her face. Lisa jumped at the sound and sight of her clearly disapproving mother. "Just washing my panties in the sink, Mom," Lisa said as diffidently as she could. Sylvia looked daggers at her daughter. "Hold them up, Lisa," Sylvia said in a harsh voice. "Go on. Hold them up." Holding up the wet, soapy panties for her mother's inspection was the absolute last thing in this world that Lisa wanted to do. Because, when she did, it was going to be obvious to her mother that these were not her panties at all. Lisa wore plain little girl pastel cotton panties with happy face prints or tiny stars on them, and the ones she was washing now were black lycra big girl thong panties and very sexy. So Lisa just stood there at the sink, holding Ms. Heard's panties under the sudsy water, praying ardently that her mother would just get disgusted and leave her to finish her humiliating task. But Sylvia wasn't having any. "I said, hold them up, you stupid girl. You're obviously hiding something, and I want to know what it is right now." Sylvia's tone of voice left no room for doubt in Lisa's frantic mind. As though she were hypnotized, the young teen girl slowly lifted the soaking, sudsy panties out of the sink and held them up to her mother's glaring inspection. Sylvia's mouth opened and a little growl escaped from between her lips. "What's going on, you stupid girl? Those are obviously *not* your panties. Did you steal a pair of mine to do something sick with and now you're trying to get rid of the evidence. That's just the kind of nasty, slutty thing you're capable of. Hand them here." Lisa was almost immobile with fright at her mother's anger. She closed her eyes tight and handed the dripping panties to her mother, who snatched them out of her hand. "These aren't mine. Where did you get them? I bet you stole them from the hamper of one of my friends when we went visiting. Who was it you stupid, sick little freak." Lisa began crying. "No, Mommy. I didn't steal them. I promise." Sylvia glared down at her cringing daughter. "Well, if you didn't steal them, then where did you get them? Did that slut Gracie you hang out with give them to you? I know she's a nasty little homo. I bet one of her adult "girlfriends" gave them to her after one of their dirty little homo sessions together, and she passed them on to you to do something nasty with. Is that it, you sick little slut?" By now, Lisa was sobbing almost hysterically. "No, Mommy. No. Gracie didn't give them to me. Please, Mommy. Please." Sylvia leaned into the room and slapped Lisa hard right in the face. SLAP. Lisa cried out and slowly sank to the bathroom floor, her arms over her head waiting for the inevitable beating that was sure to follow. Sylvia towered over her totally freaked out daughter. "WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE PANTIES, YOU STUPID LITTLE GIRL?" Lisa could hold back no longer. "Ms. Heard gave them to me. She said I had to wash them, and dry them, and bring them back to her tomorrow afternoon all fresh and ready. She said, Mommy. She said. I have to do what she said. Please." Sylvia just stood there a minute, trying her very best to understand what her cringing daughter was telling her. She knew that Lisa was too scared to lie about anything when she was like this. Who was this Ms. Heard, anyway? And why had she instructed Lisa to wash out her dirty panties and return them to her all dry and fresh." Finally, Sylvia forced herself to calm down and ask, "Who is Ms. Heard?" Hearing the name of her new boss, Lisa began sobbing all over again, and Sylvia had to slap her a couple more times to make the hysterics go away. Finally, Lisa calmed herself down enough to tell the tale. "Ms. Heard works at the bank. The Berkshire Bank over on Greene Street. She is the manager of the bank." Sylvia was more confused than before. "What bank, you silly girl?" Lisa could see that her mother had traded her anger for simple curiosity, so the young girl felt that she might be able to explain it all to her, now. "The Berkshire Bank on Greene Street. The bank where I start work tomorrow." Sylvia leaned against the doorjamb and looked as if she were now totally confused. "The bank where you start work. But you're just a girl. You're still in school. What bank would hire you? Especially since your grades clearly indicate you're not fit to hold down any kind of a real job." Lisa cringed at her mother's cruel words. Although she didn't want to admit to her mother the reason why she had to have a job, she could see no way around it. "Mommy, I have to have a job. I have to pay back the money I spent off your credit card. Gracie found me the job at Ms. Heard's bank. And I start tomorrow afternoon. And Ms. Heard said I had to give her her panties back all clean and dry and fresh by tomorrow afternoon." By now Lisa was whining, pleading with her mother to just drop it. But Sylvia wasn't about to drop anything. She had most definitely heard the bit about the credit card and that diverted her anger into yet another course. "So, you used my credit card, huh, missy. You stole it out of my desk drawer and ran up some charges. Didn't you? Did you max it out, you stupid girl?" Lisa lowered her head in shame. Sylvia knew full well just what that meant. "Yes, Mommy." SLAP, SLAP. "You stupid little bitch," Sylvia screamed as she continued slapping her daughter. "I *knew* I hadn't been getting my statements recently. You were stealing them out of the mail box so I wouldn't see the charges. Weren't you, you stupid little girl?" SLAP, SLAP, SLAP Lisa crouched on all fours way in the corner of the bathroom while her mother continued to slap her until her hand finally got tired. After a while Lisa got up enough courage to raise her heed. "Yes, Mommy. I did. But it was going to be OK, Mommy. Gracie found me a job at the bank, and I'll be able to pay it all back. I promise." God, why couldn't her mother just let it go for once in her life? Sylvia sat down on the floor beside her cringing daughter. "I knew you were a stupid little cow, Lisa. But this really takes the cake." Lisa started whining all over again. "But Mommy, I told Gracie I needed a job really, really bad so I could pay back the money I charged. I thought you would be happy that I was trying to pay you back." Lisa began to sniffle in a way that Sylvia found really disgusting. "See, Gracie has this job at the Berkshire Bank, She loads the ATM's and does other gofer stuff they tell her. She's been doing it part time since the spring. But now, with school out, she can work full time. And Ms. Heard the manager made Gracie a teller trainee. So that meant that her old gofer job was open. Gracie set up the interview between me and Ms. Heard and I went over there this afternoon. And I got the job." Lisa practically shouted out the last sentence. Despite her fear and the pain of her mother's beating, the young teen girl was actually quite proud that she had landed the bank job; never mind how she had landed it. Despite herself, Sylvia did feel a little pang of surprised pride that her otherwise stupid daughter had actually convinced someone to hire her for a real job, even a gofer job. But then she remembered the soggy panties she had balled up inside her fist. She held them out right in front of Lisa's face. "But what about these panties, you stupid little girl." Lisa ducked her head again and began to whisper. "Well, Mommy. Gracie told me on the phone before the interview that Ms. Heard would only hire me if she really liked me. Sylvia snorted. She knew exactly what that meant, especially coming from Gracie. "So, your new boss has a "thing" for attractive young girls. Does she. Well, Lisa, you aren't the brightest bulb on the tree, but you are an attractive little hussy. I'll grant you that. Some old dyke that liked young girls like Gracie would probably like you as well." Lisa practically swooned at Sylvia's left- handed complement. She had never known that her mother found her in the least bit attractive. This was a real surprise. She almost wanted to hug her mother in thanks. But she knew her place and stayed still. "And I've seen the way you and that lesbo slut Gracie eye each other when you think I'm not looking. I bet the thought of you turning this old fruitcake on to get a job made you all hot and bothered, yourself. You're just that kind of a sick little slut. Especially since you already know that you will never be able to get anywhere in this world if what's required is brains." Lisa lowered her head even further. Nothing like a mother who thinks you're both stupid and deviant to boost a girl's self-confidence. "Yeah, Lisa stupid. I bet you thought you could dance right in there looking all sexy and slutty, showing off your sweet little body to that old dyke, and dance right out with a nice cushy job. Didn't you?" Lisa blushed. Because that's exactly what she had thought she could do. Tease Ms. Heard with her tuff young body showcased in a sexy short summer outfit and come out with an easy job that earned her enough to repay her mother for maxing out her charge card. Gracie had told her that Ms. Heard liked to "touch" her little girl employees from time to time. But Lisa wasn't worried at all about some old woman feeling her up. So long as she could prove to her mother that she was clever enough to get and keep a real paying job. That was all that counted with Lisa. Besides, Lisa had to admit that the thought of having an older woman lusting after her fine young body did intrigue her to the point of making her little panties wet. Lisa knew that she was more than just a bit attractive in a little Lolita waif sort of way. She had a cute face with doe eyes, long brown hair that reached below her shoulders, small but well formed breasts, a flat tummy, a tight little bubble butt, and long, well-muscled legs. That combo ought to get her the job if she played her cards right. And besides, Lisa really, really needed this job. Lisa looked at her mother with clear eyes for the first time since this all started. "Yes, Mommy. That's just what I thought. Sylvia smiled. "Well, if that isn't the stupidest idea you ever had in your whole stupid life, I don't know what is." Lisa was crestfallen once again; stung to the quick by her mother's heartless words. What she didn't notice was her mother surreptitiously crossing her legs as she sat on the bathroom floor beside her. At some level, Sylvia was beginning to become secretly aroused by the thought of her daughter snaking some old lesbo out of a job. She knew her daughter wasn't bright enough to get a job in the normal way. But Lisa might just be sexy enough and slutty enough to get one in a slutty way. Sylvia began looking at Lisa in a brand new light. And wondering. "So why these? Why are you having to wash out this old dyke's panties for her?" Sylvia's penetrating question snapped Lisa right back to her interview in Ms. Heard's private office earlier that day. The young teen girl recalled her first impression of Ms. Heard as a tall, slightly chubby woman with large breasts and curvy hips. The bank manager had a commanding air about her that was accentuated by her somber business dress. When Ms. Heard welcomed Lisa into her office, there was an overlay of sternness about her demeanor that Lisa found disconcerting and peculiarly arousing all at the same time. It was easy to see why Ms. Heard was the manager of the bank. She dominated the office and all who were in it. Lisa blushed right in front of Ms. Heard when she realized that the slutty summer outfit she had worn to entice the older woman only made her look vulnerable and desperate for the proffered job. And that realization made Lisa's little slit itch. She *was* vulnerable and desperate. Would Ms. Heard sense that about her? Would she be domineering with her? Lisa remembered Ms. Heard smirking at her as she caught the young girl's anxious, embarrassed glance. "Lisa," Ms. Heard asked quietly but firmly. "Do you find me attractive?" Lisa remembered feeling as if she wanted to run away from Ms. Heard before it was too late. But she just knew she would never get another job opportunity like this one, and she needed the money to pay off her mom's charge card. Facing the known quantity of her mother's wrath and denigration was so much worse to Lisa than anything Ms. Heard could possibly think of. Wasn't it? So Lisa swallowed hard and told Ms. Heard that she did find her attractive. And as the words were coming out of Lisa's mouth, she realized that she wasn't lying. Ms. Heard's domineering manner *was* her attraction to this lost little girl whose mother had always told her how worthless she was. Maybe Ms. Heard could give some purpose to Lisa's useless little life that would prove how wrong her mother had been all these years about her. Maybe she would do that. Maybe. Lisa remembered closing the office door behind her and walking over to Ms. Heard's desk. She remembered the older woman chuckling to herself and nonchalantly feeling her up while she smirked her knowing little smirk up at the girl. The bank manager had figured Lisa completely out in less than five minutes. She knew things about the young girl that Lisa didn't even know about herself. But the older woman was going to see to it that this obviously diffident and tentative little girl found out all about herself. Ms. Heard told Lisa that she knew how badly the young girl needed the job and made her confess that it was true while allowing her taunting hands to take all sorts of liberties with the young girl's body. When Lisa didn't resist, Ms. Heard asked her whether she wanted to be one of Ms. Heard's nasty little girl hand puppets. And the older woman suited her actions to her words by sliding her commanding hand all the way to the very top of Lisa's inner thigh and resting her thumb against the puffy moist lips. Lisa gulped and said she *did* want to be one of the bank manager's little girl hand puppets just as Ms. Heard's exploring fingers found how wet her wicked words were making the young girl. Ms. Heard chuckled when she felt Lisa's sticky wetness soaking through her panties. Then, she made fun of Lisa for being so slutty wet and told the young girl to reach under her skirt and remove her soppy panties without delay. Remembering, Lisa felt just as stupid as ever her mother accused her of being. Falling under this older woman's sick, domineering spell was the epitome of stupidity. Wasn't it? Knowing just how stupid she was being, Lisa did exactly as she was told, her cheeks burning with humiliation and embarrassment. Then to add stupidity to stupidity, Lisa just stood there holding her squishy panties in her hand, not knowing what she was supposed to do with them, until Ms. Heard took them from her and dropped them into her desk drawer as a memento of her latest conquest. Ms. Heard had shaken her head sadly, as if to say, 'bless her heart; she's just too stupid to know what to do.' Lisa remembered feeling like Ms. Heard had formed the same low opinion of her as her mother had. Dumb as a box of dull rocks. Lisa remembered that, from then on till the end of the interview, Ms. Heard just kept referring to her as 'Lisa stupid.' She called the young girl that name as she took a fresh pair of her own panties from another desk drawer and tugged them slowly up Lisa's smooth legs and patted the thong home against her tight little naked butt. She said 'Lisa stupid' as she began feeling her up right through the fresh panties. She laughed at 'Lisa stupid' when she discovered that her lascivious fondling was making the young girl need to pee in the worst way. She smirked and taunted 'Lisa stupid' as she pulled her fresh panties back down to her knees and made the girl pee into a metal wastebasket. While 'Lisa stupid' peed just like the vapid little cow she was, Ms. Heard invaded her tight, soppy canal with her thumb and began frigging her little G spot. While 'Lisa stupid' continued to pee, Ms. Heard leaned over and whispered all sorts of nasty, sick things into her ear about all the nasty, sick things she was going to make the young girl do to her. When Lisa had finally peed herself out, she knew for an absolute fact that Ms. Heard was right to refer to her as 'Lisa stupid.' Just like her mom did. And Lisa also knew that every time Ms. Heard said 'Lisa stupid,' her little puss itched and burned even more than before. Then Lisa remembered how Ms. Heard had not been satisfied with just humiliating her by making her pee. The cruel bank manager had also continued to masturbate the young girl. Lisa didn't want to surrender to this last indignity and she fought down her growing desire to cum. She didn't want to give Ms. Heard the satisfaction of making her orgasm. Despite Lisa's best efforts to prevent it, however, Ms. Heard finally drew the young girl into a mind-boggling climax. Lisa was crying bitter tears of utter humiliation even as her pussy was spasming and coating Ms. Heard's tormenting fingers with hot little girl secretions. Lisa remembered finally coming back to herself all cuddled up in Ms. Heard's strong arms; the older woman's hands absentmindedly playing with her malleable young body. She remembered how truly embarrassed she was when Ms. Heard pointed out to her the fact that she had gotten some of her pee on the bank manager's panties, despite her best efforts to keep them fresh. Lisa remembered that Ms. Heard had commended 'Lisa stupid' for being such an obedient little subby girl, and she had told Lisa that the gofer job was hers. Lisa's profound relief at having won the job was marred, however, by Ms. Heard's derisive little chuckle and admonition to make sure her soiled panties were clean and dry and fresh by the next day's schedule when she came to work. As she sat there cringing on the bathroom floor, Lisa remembered. And as she remembered, she confessed to her mother everything she remembered. Sometimes, Lisa cried while she was confessing. Sometimes, she just stared off into space as if she were recounting things that had happened to another person entirely. She was too caught up in her sordid little confession to note the subtle changes her words were causing in her mother. As Sylvia listened to her daughter's salacious recital, she began to wonder. What kind of woman was this Ms. Heard anyway? How had she been so immediately prescient about Lisa's submissive nature and low self esteem? Why did such a domineering personality as Ms. Heard possessed fixate on subduing, molesting, and controlling attractive young girls? Could Ms. Heard also be salaciously interested in older women? Women like her? As Sylvia wondered, she determined to keep her wonderings to herself. She would continue to exude an air of bold self-confidence and righteous anger at how her poor, stupid daughter had been mistreated by this harridan dyke. She would confront this Ms. Heard first thing in the morning and give the old bitch a good piece of her mind for molesting her daughter. "Well, Lisa. You certainly proved to me just how stupid you can be by getting yourself into such a sordid mess," Sylvia spat out the words, even as the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind continued to wonder. "First thing tomorrow, you and I are going to march into this Ms. Heard's office and demand an apology for how shamefully she treated you. It's disgusting and sick the things she did to you and made you do. And as your mother, I'm not going to stand for it." Lisa was sure from the sound of her mother's words that she was in big trouble. She waited stoically for the hand slapping or paddling that she was sure would follow. But the young girl was taken aback when her mother merely got up off the floor, and even more shocked when Sylvia actually offered her a hand up. As Lisa pulled herself up off the floor, she felt Ms. Heard's soggy panties in her mother's hand. "Here, Lisa. Go ahead and wash and dry these for the old bitch. Just like she told you to. I'll fling them in her face when we see her tomorrow, and they might as well be clean, dry, and fresh for her." Lisa was dumbfounded as she took the black thong panties from her mother's hand and did as she was told. No beating? And now her mother was telling her to obey Ms. Heard? Lisa began doing a little wondering of her own. Nothing more was said about Lisa's interview all during dinner and on up until the young girl's bedtime. In fact, for the first time in a long while, Sylvia was actually nice to her daughter. She prepared Lisa's favorite dinner and served it to her on a TV tray so she could watch her favorite show and eat all at the same time. And, after dinner, Sylvia cleaned up and washed the dishes herself. She didn't even mention clean up to Lisa, who knew that all the after dinner chores had been delegated to her for years now. All this made Lisa curious enough to continue wondering. What had changed in her relationship with her mother? What was going on? Though she had to admit to herself that her mother was probably right about her lack of brain power, Lisa had enough common sense not to look a gift horse in the mouth. By the time bedtime rolled around, the young girl felt more relaxed inside her own home than she had in years. And she slept surprisingly well. So well, in fact, that she didn't hear the wanton little noises her mother was making in her bedroom late that night. If she had heard them, Lisa would have done even more wondering than she already had done. Mother and daughter woke next morning and proceeded to get ready for the big confrontation with Ms. Heard. Sylvia called in at work and got permission to take the morning off for "personal business." She didn't seem particularly angry to Lisa as the two sat in the kitchen and ate breakfast together. In fact, Sylvia seemed almost chipper to Lisa as they munched their cereal. What was going on, anyway? Lisa was conflicted in her mind as she got herself dressed in an outfit that was much less flattering than the one she had worn the day before. She knew better than to try her slutty Lolita look today. On the one hand, Lisa was surprised and gratified that her mother was sticking up for her, no matter the reason. She could not remember a time when Sylvia had actually come to her defense or had said a praiseworthy word to her. So, that side was happy. But the other side dreaded the knock down, drag out battle that she was sure would be the consequence of her mother's meeting with Ms. Heard. The bank manager didn't strike Lisa as the kind of woman who would take much backtalk from anyone, no matter the circumstances. And Sylvia was such a vile-tempered bully herself that Lisa was certain that she wasn't going to be put off once her ire was up. So, as mother and daughter piled into the car for the short ride over to the bank, Lisa was in a dither. She could see a major trainwreck coming and she found herself right in the middle of it. Lisa was too caught up in her own worries to notice that her mother had chosen an ensemble to wear to the bank that was rather out of character with her normal business dress. For one thing, Sylvia had neglected to wear a bra, and her ample breasts pressed rather revealingly against the thin material of her blouse. For another, Lisa's mother had decided against wearing stockings or pantyhose and her long legs were bare under her rather abbreviated skirt. Had Lisa been in a position to notice, she would have seen that her mother's skirt hem rode well above the knee as she drove along. And had Lisa been gifted with x-ray vision, she would have seen that her mother wasn't wearing any panties, either. But, as I said, Lisa was too focused on the horrible confrontation she foresaw to notice anything except how close they were to the bank. When they got to the bank, Lisa was surprised at how easy it was for her and her mother to get in to see Ms. Heard. It was as if the bank manager had been expecting them. the older woman had already opened her office door to welcome Lisa and Sylvia before they even got there. Just like the day before, Ms. Heard was dressed in a severely tailored business suit that accentuated her full figure. She actually smiled as she closed the office door behind her visitors. Or did she merely smirk? "You must be Lisa's mother. Sylvia Railey, isn't it?" Sylvia stood there in the middle of Ms. Heard's office totally confused by the older woman's calm, cheerful demeanor. Forgotten for the moment was the pair of Ms. Heard's panties that Sylvia had balled up in her hand in preparation for throwing them in the older woman's face. "Yes, I'm Sylvia Railey, and I'm Lisa's mother. How did you know my name?" Ms. Heard sat down gracefully behind her desk and smiled. "Why someone as bright as you are, Sylvia, should have figured out that I would know your name. After all, your stupid little daughter had to fill out an employment form listing all sorts of information. Surely "mother's name" was going to be one of the things applicants for jobs at this bank would be required to provide. Wouldn't you think?" Sylvia heard the words and did feel a bit backward for not having figured out something so basic as how Ms. Heard would know her name. Ms. Heard continued as if she had not been interrupted. "Yes, dear. And I believe that you are the same Sylvia Railey who is the head accountant for Brook and Fitts. Your company has that nice new office building down town. Don't you. My bank does a good bit of business with your company. Doesn't it, dear?" Sylvia was taken even further aback by Ms. Heard's latest revelation about her. Had the woman done some sort of background check on her? And Ms. Heard had been quick to remind Sylvia that Berkshire Bank was her company's major client. What was that all about? Well? Aren't you *that* Sylvia Railey?" Lisa watched as her mother took a step back and bumped into the closed office door. What was going on now? Why wasn't Sylvia tearing into Ms. Heard for the horrible way she had treated Lisa yesterday? Wasn't that why they were here? Mother and daughter were caught even more off balance when Ms. Heard asked her next question. "What do you have in your hand, Sylvia?" Sylvia looked down at the black thong panties she held so tightly in her hand as if this was the very first time in her life that she had seen them. "Are those my panties you have clutched in your hand, Sylvia?" Sylvia reacted to Ms. Heard's accusatory tone of voice by lowering her head slightly. She tried to speak, but no words would form. Sylvia could feel a little trickle running down her leg, but she couldn't tell whether it was a dribble of pee or something else entirely. Getting no response, Ms. Heard turned to Lisa. "Lisa stupid, are those my panties your mother has in her hand?" Lisa gulped. "Yes, Ms. Heard. They are the ones you made me wear yesterday." Ms. Heard grew very stern. "I already know that, you stupid little girl. Did you wash them and dry them and make them all fresh for me like I told you to do?" Lisa was getting weak kneed just like yesterday. "Yes, Ms. Heard. I washed them and dried them and made them all fresh for you just like you told me to." Ms. Heard rounded on Sylvia. "Why do you have my nice fresh panties all balled up in your sweaty hand, Sylvia. For someone as bright as you claim to be, you certainly are stupid to think that I wouldn't notice how badly you're treating my property." Sylvia tried her best to rally. She knew she should be yelling at Ms. Heard because of the way the bank manager had molested Lisa yesterday. She should be yelling at her for talking to her this way today. Now, she was the one being yelled at. Why couldn't she seem to fight back. Sylvia felt a burning itch growing hotter and itchier deep inside her. All the sick, wanton wondering she had done late last night came flooding back into her brain. Why was she allowing this woman to talk to her this way? Why was her slit beginning to itch really bad and her nipples harden? She could feel how turgid her nips were as they pressed against the material of her blouse. Had Ms. Heard noticed that Sylvia's nipples were becoming erect? Did she hope so? Ms. Heard glared at Sylvia from across the room. "Well, Sylvia. You certainly should be bright enough by now to know what you should do with my panties. Being the head accountant at Brook and Fitts and all. Can't you figure it out, yet.?" Sylvia just stood there in the middle of Ms. Heard's office, not knowing at all what she was supposed to do next. Part of her still wanted to throw the panties in Ms. Heard's face and storm out of her office dragging Lisa behind her. But another part, the wondering part, the hungry part, the sick part, wanted to just stay still and find out what Ms. Heard thought she should do. Ms. Heard smirked at Sylvia and slid her chair out from behind her desk. "Here, Sylvia stupid. I'll help you figure it out." So saying, Ms. Heard stepped out of her black leather flats and raised her bare feet off the carpet. Then she deliberately plucked at the hem of her dark wool skirt and slowly slid it up her well-muscled thighs. Sylvia's eyes followed Ms. Heard's hands until the skirt was bunched up around the older woman's waist. Then, when Ms. Heard sensed that she had Sylvia's full attention, the bank manager allowed her thighs to open just enough to show Lisa's mother that she wasn't wearing any panties. "I bet Lisa stupid would know what to do now if she had a pair of my panties in her hand. Does Sylvia stupid know what to do, or does Ms. Heard have to tell her?" Sylvia glanced anxiously over at Ms. Heard and began licking her lips unconsciously. Her brain was a maelstrom of conflict. A desperate tide of decisiveness and strength was crashing against the rocks of her mind. That tide pressed Sylvia to re-assert herself before it was too late. But the tide of decisiveness and strength was slowly but surely washing out to sea, and a new tide was replacing it. Sylvia could feel the onslaught of this new tide. A tide that was being focused deep inside her body. A tide that was swirling around her inside her loins. A tide that was compelling her pussy to burn and itch. A tide that made Sylvia begin to pray ardently that Ms. Heard would continue calling her 'Sylvia stupid'. Ms. Heard spread her legs even further, making her demand crystal clear, even to Sylvia. "Lisa stupid, why don't you help your Mommy. She doesn't seem to know what she should do next." Obediently, Lisa stepped back until she stood right beside her transfixed mother. Then, the young girl reached out her hand, took Sylvia's wrist, and led her toward Ms. Heard's desk. Sylvia moved as if her shoes were filled with lead. But Lisa was firm with her mother. Lisa knew what was expected. It was so obvious. Why couldn't her mom figure it out. Even 'Lisa stupid' understood what came next. When she had led her mother to a place right beside the desk, Lisa knelt down on the carpet and pulled her mother down beside her. "Put her panties on her, Mommy," the young girl stage whispered to her mother. "That's what you're supposed to do. That's what she wants." Sylvia glanced over at Lisa, a look of sheerest gratitude all over her face. Lisa knew what came next. Lisa would help her. Lisa would tell her what to do. How could she have ever thought that her daughter was stupid? Lisa understood everything. Lisa was smart. It was Sylvia herself that was the stupid one after all. But it was going to be OK. Lisa would help her mother. She would make sure that Sylvia did what she was supposed to do from now on. Sylvia breathed a great sigh of unalloyed relief as she tentatively reached her hands out to slide the black, thong panties over Ms. Heard's outstretched feet. Sylvia looked up prayerfully toward Ms. Heard's face and saw the bank manager smiling beatifically down at her and nodding 'yes.' God what a relief. Sylvia didn't ever have to figure anything out ever again from now on. Lisa would do all her figuring for her. Lisa and Ms. Heard. Once the sheer Lycra panties had slid past Ms. Heard's bare ankles, Lisa reached out her own hands and guided her mother as she slowly slid the panties up the smooth calves. "She likes for you to touch her legs when you put on her panties, Mommy." Sylvia complied willingly, but looked over at her daughter, a question written on her face. "How do you know, Lisa?" Lisa smiled serenely at her mother, then up at a beaming Ms. Heard who looked from her exalted, beatified place of honor down at her two sweet mother and daughter subbys. "I just figured it out all by myself, Mommy." Sylvia looked startled. "You did?" Lisa was glowing with pride. "Un huh." Now the pride was on Sylvia's face. Her daughter was smart. She could figure things out. For the rest of the morning, Lisa guided her ecstatic mother through a host of lurid little services which Ms. Heard found to be both arousing and thrilling. The bank manager rewarded the young girl with many words of praise and encouragement, especially when little Lisa figured things out that Ms. Heard liked without having to be told. Sometime during the course of the morning, Ms. Heard called her good friend, the president of Brook and Fitts, to give her the news that Sylvia had decided to leave the employ of that fine firm for a job at the Berkshire Bank; starting today. Yes, it seems that Sylvia wanted to be near her daughter in her new job, and Ms. Heard had taken pity on the woman by hiring her on as Lisa's assistant in her gofer job. Yes, Ms. Heard had to agree with her friend over at Brook and Fitts that being a gofer's assistant was a big step down for Sylvia Railey. But what was Ms. Heard to do. It appeared to her from the way that Lisa had to explain everything she was expected to do and demonstrate for her how to do everything , that Sylvia wasn't fit for any other kind of work. Ms. Heard found Lisa more than apt, but Sylvia, though clearly willing, had a long course of training ahead of her. As Ms. Heard experienced her third exquisite run of orgasms of the morning brought about by a delicious mother/daughter tongue tag team, she leaned back in her desk chair and thought to herself how munificent she was being; giving gainful work to someone obviously as dense as Sylvia Railey was. And what was even better was how much more adept Sylvia was becoming at demonstrating her appreciation of the opportunity of being Lisa's little gofer assistant. Ms. Heard liked a happy staff at the bank. It made things go so much more smoothly. And much later that day, as she absentmindedly toyed with the languid naked bodies of her two new charges, her subby mother/daughter bookends, Ms. Heard felt a swell of pride that she was doing a generous form of community service by giving useful work to these two: Lisa stupid and Sylvia stupid. Who said that community leaders like her couldn't find something useful for stupids to do? Who indeed? This work is copyright (c) 2002 by Jane Parks. You may download and retain a copy for your personal use as long as the author's byline and e-mail address and this paragraph remain on the copy. Please do not post this story to any web site without permission from the author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of the contents is permitted. Jane Parks can be reached at: janeparkshot@Yahoo.com