Chapter 5: From Teachers and Students to Mothers and Sons: Debbie pays the price

While Simba and Isa were each announcing what size bra their homeroom teacher wore, Jarrett Kressel was watching the action intently. He had always suffered from mental health issues and, due to the side effects of the medications he was prescribed, he had secretly stopped taking them. Now, as the incredulous scene played before him; the last vestiges of Jarrett’s sanity fell away. Suddenly, Debbie’s fourteen-year-old son abruptly stood up. He first stood on the seat of his own chair before jumping through the open space between his chair and desk and landing in the aisle right next to his mom. Finally, he climbed over and sat on the desk that was attached to the chair his mother was sitting in. For her part, Debbie was still frozen in fear due to the forced stripping of the teachers and the principal and she now found that her mind couldn’t process anything, much less why her own son had just sat upon her desk. Yet, one result from him doing so was that Debbie had taken her forearms off her desk and placed them down by her sides. This was just as Jarrett had anticipated and, with his mom’s hands now down by her sides, he pinned Debbie’s wrists against the metal frame of the chair with his feet.

“Jarrett, what are you doing?” asked Debbie in a state of confusion as the thought that her own son could do the same sort of thing as these evil and repulsive black boys was beyond her comprehension.

“Ow! Stop that! You’re hurting me Jarrett! Please ... take your feet away from my wrists.”

In response, Jarrett now said nothing and only responded with a brutal slap to his mother’s face which seemed to stun her even more. But the hard slap was only a momentary distraction and during the half second it took for the modest conservative woman to regain her composure Her now clearly crazed fourteen-year-old son immediately followed the hard slap by pulling his right foot off from where it currently pinned her left wrist against the hard metal frame of the chair. Debbie had always been a traditional woman and fighting and self-defense she had always considered unladylike. After all it was the role of men in life to be a woman’s protector not her own. Now this traditional view of gender roles came back to haunt the beautiful young mother. For, before she could lift her momentarily free left arm to defend herself, her 14-year-old son shot his right foot forward, kicking her as hard in the stomach as he possibly could. Debbie tried to scream but all that came out of her was a gurgling grunt as the air rushed out of her and pain exploded throughout every inch of her world. Her head shot forward and slammed into her son’s lap who, in turn, took this opportunity to reach down and tear off the buttons off the sleeves of his mother’s white blouse. With that now done, Jarrett then kicked his mother in both of her arms causing them to slam back painfully into the chair’s metal frame. This time Debbie did scream, if only for a split second as her son now kicked her again, only this time it was in her stomach. This caused all of the air to rush out of Debbie’s lungs and she tried to double over in pain but Jarrett’s knees blocked her path and so she ran into those instead. Now, gasping in pain with her face having just slammed into her own son’s knees, Jarrett shoved her away hard so that her back hit the upright frame of the chair. As Debbie now rocked back in a cloud of pain and confusion, Jarrett again took advantage of the situation. Yet, just as he grabbed as much of his mom’s blouse as he could with the intent to tear it asunder, Kadir spoke up.

“You don’t want your mom to be fully conscious and aware of what’s happening when you take her blouse off?” the big man asked.

Jarrett’s only response was a smile but he then began to wait. Luckily for him though, it was only a couple of seconds before Debbie’s eyes fluttered open and she seemed to be reacquainted with the rest of the room. Yet, still Jarrett waited and, only once he was fully convinced that his mom was aware of everything that was happening to her, did he slide his fingers into the small gaps that lay between the buttons on the front of his own mom’s blouse.

“Jarrett, plea...” said Debbie groggily but the word was interrupted as the sound of buttons being ripped from her blouse cut through the air.

BRAP!!!

That terrible sound now echoed throughout the room and rang with terror in the ears of every woman who was not currently preoccupied with her own assault. In fact, it was so loud that it completely drowned out the smug snickering of the boys as they now watched another former authority figure going down to defeat amongst the soft but terrified sobbing of both moms and their daughters. Debbie’s pretty white blouse was now open and her bra along with the tops of her huge breasts were visible to anyone watching. Meanwhile, Jarrett was busying himself with pulling the bottom edge of his mom’s blouse out of the navy-blue full-length denim skirt that was cinched tightly around her waist while Debbie desperately struggled to free her hands. It was all in vain as Jarrett’s two feet kept her wrists crushed up against the metal frame of Debbie’s chair. In the end, it now took only a few seconds for his hands to make their way around Debbie’s waist and, as they did so, they periodically stopped but only long enough to pull another handful of Debbie’s white blouse free from her skirt. In another moment, all of the pretty white garment had been freed from Debbie’s skirt as it now hung like a dead animal around her, while her massive breasts still shook due to her ongoing attempts to free her captured hands. Now, even though they were still covered in Debbie’s conservative, cotton brassiere; all the boys could tell that this was easily the most massive pair of mammaries that had been exposed so far.

“Are you going to let me take your blouse off now, mom?” Jarrett leaned forward and asked and yet, instead of responding Debbie merely looked down as she whimpered and cried and wondered just what had happened. To this lack of response, Jarrett frowned and softly muttered.

@@”Wrong answer,” he grumbled as his right leg came back and before Debbie could stop him he kicked out with all his might and rammed her left arm back into the upright of Debbie’s cold metal chair. In response, Debbie now screamed as Jarrett’s other leg pulled back; this one now kicked as hard as it could as it pulverized Debbie’s arm. Finally, there was a moment of silence, except for Debbie’s screaming, and when those wails finally dissipated Jarrett re-asked his question.

“Now I ask you again mom, are you going to let your son take your blouse off?’”

“Yes,” Debbie now whimpered as she stared down at the floor. “Yes, I ... I’m going to let my own fourteen year old son take off my blouse.”

Yet, instead of smiling, Jarrett now reached around behind her. He then grabbed a fistful of Debbie’s hair before jerking it back painfully.

“I can’t hear you and neither can anyone else! Now say it loud and say it for the cameras”.

Jarrett then jerked his mother’s head around so the once prim and proper lady could look into the lens of a cell phone being held by a bank robber.

“Unless you want another 5 kicks in each arm, say it loud and say it proud”. Jarrett commanded. The modest mom who had never been so much as kissed by anyone other than her husband now swallowed hard and tried to focus her tear filled eyes on the camera held by the large black man.

“I-I’m g-going t-to l-let my s-son take my b-blouse off”. Debbie said in as loud a voice as she could muster.

“Good” Jarrett said as a small smile now appeared on his lips. “Now you remember what happens when you don’t do exactly what I say when I say it, got it?”

Jarrett didn’t wait for an answer but instead slid off his mom’s desk and spread his legs so that he was sitting on Debbie’s lap. Though her arms were no longer pinned against the hard metal frame of the chair, the proud and prudish mom, who once considered her modesty her most precious gift, made no effort to remove her son from her lap. After all, with the fiery pain that now consumed both her arms from her shoulders to her wrists, Debbie didn’t think she could move her battered limbs in any way that was helpful.

“You move those arms one teeny, little bit and I’ll make sure you never move them again” Jarrett warned. “Now look into your son’s eyes while you let him take off your blouse.”

Perhaps it was the kicks to her arms that did it but, somehow, Debbie found the strength to comply and her deep brown eyes stared up into his as Jarrett slid his hands inside her shirt and then began to push it up and back over her shoulders.

“No matter what happens now mom, the best thing you can do is exactly what I tell you exactly when I tell you to do it, got it? If you understand now, repeat it for the camera.”

Debbie now moved mechanically and without emotion as she turned her head to face one of the video cameras.

“I-I’m going to do exactly what my son tells me to do exactly when he tells me to do it.” Debbie repeated in a monotone with a look of overwhelming sadness on her face.

@@His mom’s willingness to humiliate herself now made Jarrett smile as Debbie once again began to look him in the eye. As she did so, Jarrett wasted no time and in less than a second Debbie’s open blouse was over her shoulders and being pushed down her arms. In another second, the entirety of Debbie’s shirt was sliding over her wrists. It then went over her hands and down past her fingertips before falling behind where it lay limply on the seat until Jarrett picked it up. Jarrett then proudly stood up and held aloft his own mom’s shirt as the other boys in the classroom let out a cheer. Jarrett then tossed it towards Kadir as he sat back down on his mother’s lap.

“Now mom I need to test you to see just how well you’re going to do what you just said you were going to do. Just remember, I’m going to do anything I want to you from now on, it’s just a matter of whether I gotta beat the shit out of you first. You got it?”

With tears streaming down her face, Deborah now nodded vigorously.

“Yuh-yeah, I guh-got it-it-it...” the short and voluptuous red haired mom now stammered.

Jarrett seemed pleased at just how enthusiastically his mom had responded and so he continued.

“Now the first thing I’m going to do is take off your bra. You got any problem with that?”

“Nuh-No I don’t have any puh-problem with my suh-son tuh-taking uh-off my b-b-bra.” replied Deborah; while struggling to believe just what she was saying.

And yet she was saying it and it was what Jarrett needed to hear before he moved on. For, without her humiliating herself, her son wouldn’t be satisfied and yet what could she do? Could she really withstand her son’s continued beatings? Was her being forcibly stripped even worse than that? Deborah thought that it probably was and yet; even though it was worse, it was still easier to endure. So she had acquiesced and not only agreed to the most humiliating thing she thought could ever happen to her but had actually played a part in making it happen. The result of this now was that Jarrett climbed off her lap and then sat on her desk before he then pulled her head forward by a fistful of her hair. Jarrett then kept on pulling and he seemed determined to pull his mother’s face as close to his crotch as he could before he then reached behind her and unhooked her bra. For the briefest instant there was that moment of tightness as the two ends of the lateral strap were pulled past each other and then there was the relaxation and this was even more terrifying for it could only mean that her bra was unhooked.It was going to be over in another second and Debbie, who had never been seen even partially nude by any man other than her husband, tried to deny the reality that her very own son was about to take off her bra and show both her breasts to a bunch of other boys as she fought not to scream. In fact, so great was her anguish that the pretty Catholic mom now found herself trembling uncontrollably while she still somehow managed to stop herself from resisting. Then Jarrett’s hands were on her shoulders as he first pushed her back so that her back was against the chair. His fingers curled around Debbie’s bra straps as he lifted and then slid them down so that the cups of her bra fell to her lap. She was exposed, Debbie now realized and she could feel the hungry eyes of every male not currently occupied as they drank in her huge melons. She had kept these successfully hidden for more than two decades but now they were on display and there was nothing she could do to hide them from view. Even worse was that the bank robbers now all gathered around with their cell phone cameras and the sound that the phones made as they took picture after picture of Debbie’s exposed upper body was a knife in poor mom’s heart that had already suffered enough. As the clicking of the cameras began to die down, every boy in the room seemed to simultaneously let out a low, hushed whistle of awe, as if they had never seen something so spectacular. Debbie’s breasts were even larger than the other ladies in the room, at least the ones that had been stripped to the waist. For, Debbie had always prided herself on staying in shape and, as a result, the huge sacs of creamy, white fat sat up as firmly and as prominently as they would have on any teen girl while also jutting almost straight out like two mammoth scoops of creamy vanilla ice cream; each one topped with a rock hard brown protuberance of a nipple. It was just too much and, with her arms now free, the humiliated mom crossed them in front of her breasts as she cried in shame only to have Jarrett grab her wrists and painfully slam them backwards so that they hung by her sides once more.