The figure entered the outlet store. It was one step above a thrift store, not the sort of place that panties in the style that the figure made were sold. No naughty delights to titillate a teenage girl’s budding desires. No trendy clothes were sold here, which was exactly why the figure knew these pair panties was needed here.

The figure wasn’t noticed by any the shoppers. Nondescript, ordinary. On a shelf that sold packets of plain, boring panties, so similar to the type worn by the last girl the figure had changed, a new pair was left behind. Vibrant, cherry red panties with those bold, blue letters surrounded by a shimmering silver border.

Sexy Delight.

The figure kept walking, knowing that special girl, Heather Miller, would be along in moments.

Heather was a tall girl, sixteen, wearing a baggy, gray dress to hide the fullness of her figure. Curvy and lush, her bounty overflowing. She had the sort of body that boys would drool over. The type of ripe delight that would grace their wet dreams and fuel their masturbatory fantasies.

Not that Heather would ever be allowed to show off her figure. Not with her mother, Honor Miller, ensuring that her daughter wore the blandest, most unflattering clothes possible.

Her daughter would stay pure.

Heather didn’t mind. She was a quiet girl who obeyed her mother. Shy. She wasn’t like one of those flashy girls. “All started out,” her mother would like to say. “You’re my good, daughter. You would never be one of those painted harlots.”

When Heather saw the pair of panties casually draped over a packet of boring underwear, she knew there must be a horrible mistake. Those panties did not belong here. She had popped into the store to run a quick errand. Normally, she would never shop for clothing without her mother’s being present. She only passed this particular kiosk by happenstance. She snatched up the panties merely to deliver them to the proper store worker. As she gripped it, she noticed the words printed on them, Sexy Delight. The sight stirred a strange, wistful longing through her soul.

The braid of long, black hair swung down her back as she stared at those glittering letters. Would anyone ever think I was sexy? she thought.

Her mother certainly never believed she would be. “I always gave thanks to God that I had a Plain Jane for a daughter. None of the boys will ever sniff around you. You’re going to be pure.”

Heather knew she shouldn’t do this. That it was wrong. Without wistfulness surged through her. She found herself folding up the panties and pressing them to her purse. She pushed it deep, burying it beneath all the accouterments rattling around in her purse. Her cheeks burn with shame, but she rationalized her action by simply reminding herself that these panties clearly weren’t the store’s merchandise.

It wasn’t stealing if she found them.

She hurriedly collected the new potato peeler to replace the one that had broken last night and paid for it as quickly as she could. She hurried home, her purse feeling extra heavy despite how little the pair of panties weighed.

Heather Miller

Why did I take these?

I’d asked myself that hundred times since the previous evening. I couldn’t explain it. Right now, I was supposed to be getting ready for school, but I hadn’t even gotten out of my nightgown. I wanted to put these exciting panties on. They were so different than anything I’ve ever worn. So bright and colorful. They were for a pretty girl. A painted harlot. Not for a Plain Jane like me.

There was a wet heat between my thighs. It was something I rarely paid attention to. Sometimes, I felt that shameful warmth when in the shower and washing myself down there, or when I allowed myself to stare at a particularly handsome boy at her school. The type of boys my mother always warned me about.

Boys like my father.

“You don’t want to ever marry a boy,” Mother often told me. “He’ll leave you. Just like your father did. They want painted harlots, not a Plain Jane like you. I was beautiful, and your father still chose that big-breasted cow. You won’t ever leave me, right?”

I shuddered as I pulled off my nightgown. I could hear mother making breakfast downstairs. I had to get dressed. My large breasts swayed before me as I pulled down the pair of light-blue panties I wore to bed, the shade of periwinkle so faded it practically was white. I worked the cotton off my thighs and glanced at the garish pair. I couldn’t believe I was going to wear them. I must be mad. Maybe for one day, I could pretend.

Was there anything really wrong with that?

It wasn’t like any the boys would notice me. They would never know I had them on beneath my long skirt. That I was wearing something with those naughty words on it.

Sexy Delight.

Just thinking of those two words increase that warmth between my thighs. I glanced down at my black bush, gasping at the sight of moisture beading on my pubic hairs. My cheeks burned. This hot shame rippled through me. I grabbed the cherry-red panties and stepped into them fast. I pulled them up my legs, the strange, electrical tingle racing ahead of them. I whimpered, the heat building and building inside of me.

What was wrong with me?

I whimpered, my large breasts swaying, slapping into each other as I wiggled the tight panties up my legs. The fabric clung to my thighs then my rump. I had to work the stretchy fabric up and over my plump rear. I shuddered, my hands adjusting the elastic waistband about my hips. They rode lower than they should. They fit so tight. Where they too small for me?

“Heather, it’s time for breakfast!” Mother shouted from below.

I had no time to change. “Just a minute!”

I already had my outfit for this day laid out. A long, dark skirt and a gray blouse that button all the way up to my neck, the sleeves going all the way to my wrist. It was loose to hide my breasts. I grabbed my bra, the type that was designed to constrain such unwieldy, large boobs like mine. I slipped the band around my torso and fastened it behind me. I groaned as my breasts were flattened, pressed against me so the boys wouldn’t realize just how busty I was.

“Even a plain Jane will have the boys sniffing around her if they realize she has big breasts,” mother would say. “Just like that harlot cow who stole your father.”

I pulled on the gray blouse that I’d selected, working the buttons up with the rapid motion. It fit loose on me, just the way it should. I fastened it all the way to my neck then smoothed the collar. The tails fell to my mid-thigh. I grabbed the long, black skirt. I stepped into it as my mother called my name again. I hurriedly drew it up and tucked the tails of my blouse into it. The skirt zipped on my left side and fit snugly around my waist. I smoothed the fabric, my bare toes flexing. I grabbed my socks and pulled them on as fast as I could.

“Heather Miller,” Mother cried for a third time, “why are you dawdling?”

“Sorry, Mother!” I called back.

I rushed to the door, my black hair swaying a thick braid behind me. I was so nervous after taking those panties home, that I forgot to undo it before I settled on the bed. Lucky me, I didn’t have to spend the time to read braided this morning.

Those naughty panties gripped my rump as I headed down the stairs. The fabric seemed to slip between my butt-cheeks, molding to my flesh. It felt so wrong. So naughty. That heat between my thighs swelled and swelled I came downstairs.

My mother peered at me from the kitchen, wearing a long, pale dress decorated with paisley flowers. It was as conservative as mine, the collar snug about her neck, the sleeves descending to her wrist, and the hem falling down to her ankles.

“Well, there you are,” she said. “Let me have a look at you.”

I came close to her, waiting for her inspection. There could be no way that she knew about the naughty, rebellious panties I had on. Her hands slid from my shoulders down to my elbows, smoothing the fabric into my skin. She gripped me there, eyes flicking up and down my body. She frowned.

The tingles rippled through me.

“Is something wrong, Mother?” I asked.

“No,” she said, slowly. Her brow furrowed more. “Everything looks fine.”

I trembled. I wanted to confess what I’d done. To tell her what I was wearing beneath my skirt. I was being naughty.

“Well, I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll figure it out,” she said.

My stomach roiled. How could she know? Was it how I was standing? Was it the warmth glowing in my cheeks?

“Well, come on, your breakfast is getting cold.”

“Yes, Mother,” I said as I headed into the kitchen to where a small breakfast nook lay. There were two bowls of cream wheat, plain and unseasoned. It wasn’t that stuff made from instant. This was homemade. Healthy.

I sat down, spooning up the white porridge, hoping it would help settle my stomach. Mother stared at me the entire time across the table, hardly touching hers. Her spoon stirred through the thick substance, her gaze resting on me as she seemed lost in thought. My naughty sex clenched. My breasts felt so tight in my bra. Constricted.

“I just can’t put my finger on it,” Mother said when I finish. She stood up, her breakfast only half eaten.

“On what?” I asked, my stomach so tight.

“On you,” she said, bustling up to me. To my shock, she undid the top button of my blouse.

“There you go, that’s better.”

I blinked in stunned surprise.

“You know, you’re such a delight. Maybe, I have been a little too strict with you. You’re sixteen. Almost a woman. I forget that sometimes.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Mother,” I said. “I don’t want to be one of those painted harlots.”

Mother pursed her lips. Her hands were on my shoulders, rubbing me. All the warmth of her fingers bled through the cloth. I swallowed as she kept touching my arms. It was so ... strange. Then her hands moved to the front of my blouse. I gasped as she unfastened a second button.

“Okay, that’s perfect,” she said. “Let’s get you to school.”

I nodded, my skin feeling so exposed. I mean, the open blouse only showed off my collarbone. The reverend’s wife showed off this much skin. I shouldn’t feel at all strange about it, but my mother orchestrated this. Bemused, I followed her out to the car, my shoes scuffling along as I dragged my feet. My thoughts whirled. The world felt so topsy-turvy today.

I slipped into the passenger seat, buckling up. The seatbelt pressed my blouse tight against my breasts, revealing just how ample I was. Mother glanced over me, her lips tightening. My cheeks warm. I hated reminding her of that chesty harlot who stole Daddy from our life. Her eyes flicked up and down me as we drove to my high school.

She spent half the time just glancing at me. I squirmed. I had this certainty that she knew about my wicked panties and was trying to draw the truth out of me. It was like undoing the top few buttons of my blouse was some sort of strange torture. A way to get me so uncomfortable I would confess my sinful behavior.

Soon we pulled up at the school. There were a few boys hanging out front, including Chris. My cheeks warmed more at the sight of him. He was such a handsome boy, tall, his hair dark and short. I tried not to think those unwholesome thoughts about him, but when my sex was feeling so warm and juicy, his face would appear in my mind. It made me want to touch myself. To abuse myself.

Not that I ever would.

“Now, that’s just not right,” Mother said. She reached out and did two more buttons. I gasped, as she opened my blouse wide, revealing more of my skin. I could see the top slopes of my breasts. If she undid another button, people would see my bra.

My cheeks went flaming hot.

“Mother?” I gasped, my voice choking.

“You need to relax,” Mother said. “You’re such a delight. Why, I bet the boys will love you.”

My eyes were so wide at that. Boys? “Are you okay, Mother?”

“No,” she said. “I’m feeling great. Just staring at you is making me feel all warm. Like how I used to feel when I was your age before your father ruined everything.”

She stepped out of the car and rushed around to my side. Normally, she stayed in it when she dropped me off. I sat there, my book bag on my lap, not sure what to do. My mother opened the door and beckoned me out. Chris was over there. He would see my cleavage. He would know that I had big breasts. Then he would start to lust after a Plain Jane like me.

Swallowing, I stepped out of the car, my long skirt rustling. I was so aware of my exposed cleavage. I felt my breasts jiggling like they were fighting to escape my bra. I wanted to melt away. This wasn’t me.

What was my mom doing?

“Hi, boys,” Mother said, taking my hand and leading me towards Chris and the other two boys. “Doesn’t my daughter just look pretty?”

My eyes widened. “Mother?”

“Isn’t she just such a sweet delight?” Mother asked. Her hand swept down my back and over my rump, smoothing my skirt. “I know she hasn’t dressed for it, but you can see it, can’t you, boys?”

I wanted to melt in shame. What was going on? Had my mother gone insane?

All the boys were staring at me, noticing my cleavage. I tried to take shallow breaths, not to let my bosom swell, but I suddenly felt so breathless. I was gulping in the air, my chest swelling as my mother’s hand smooth across my rump again.

“Yeah, you do think she such a wonderful delight, don’t you, boys?” Mom said.

“Well...” Chris scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess, Mrs. Miller.”

“You guess?” Mother said, sounding exasperated. Then, to my shock, she undid another button. My cheeks burned. Chris, and the other boys, could see the cream color of my bra peeking out. I want to faint. This could not be happening. Mother open my blouse further, her hands brushing across my bosom. My nipples were hard. I felt her hand rubbing across them as she adjusted my out. Wicked tingles raced through me.

“Now what you think?” mother asked. “I know she’s not wearing the most flattering clothes, but you can’t deny how beautiful my daughter is. And look at those delightful breasts.”

She hefted them. She lifted them up in my bra, giving them a little jiggled. The boys were all staring at me like wolves. Like they wanted to eat out me. Especially Chris. My cheeks were so warm. I wanted to faint. Mom’s thumbs brushed my nipples again, my pussy growing wet. I could feel it. These naughty juices were leaking out of me. They were absorbed be these wicked panties I wore.

“Now, Heather, have a lovely day,” Mother said. “Don’t worry, I’ll do something about your clothes. You’re going to be such a delight.”

She had to know about the panties. She kept saying that word: delight. I could feel those letters burning across my rump.

Mother whirled away and headed back to the car, her skirt swirling. I trembled there, the boys staring at my exposed breasts, my bra peeking out of my unbuttoned blouse. My pussy was so hot. I wanted to touch myself. To abuse myself like a sinful girl.

I swallowed, heading towards the school. The boys parted around me, almost engulfing me. I felt their eyes running up and down my flesh. They knew I was chesty. That my breasts were bountiful. They liked it. They liked me. I swallowed, the strange exhilaration shooting through me.

Boys liked me.

Chris liked me.

This fluttering warmth shot through me as I entered my high school, other students noticing me. Girls gasped in shock while boys leered. They were all staring at me. They were all discovering how delightful my breasts were. My braid of hair swept behind me down to my rump. It swayed with my steps. My mother’s touch burned across my skin. The panties were so tight, cupping my rump, my pussy.

I felt so naughty down there. I felt like instead of a pussy, I had that filthy word between my thighs. That C word.

Cunt.

“Heather!” my friend, Vivian, gasp. The redhead rushed towards me, her scoop-neck blouse showing off her modest tits. “Oh, my oh, you’re ... Wow, that’s a lot of flesh for you to be showing.”

“Mother thought I should ... show off my delightful breasts,” I moaned, my cheeks burning with my embarrassment. It was all so strangely exhilarating. I couldn’t help but thrust my tits out before me. I was enjoying the attention. All the guys looking at me. Hungering for me.

Vivian fell in beside me, her eyes wide. “Your mother did that?”

I nodded, heading towards my first class. “I know, it’s so strange, but...” I shuddered. “She wants me to be a delight. For everyone to know that I’m not just a Plain Jane.”

“Ugh, you never were a Plain Jane, Heather. You’re cute. You’d be hot if you tried, and ... I would kill to have tits as big as yours.” She looked around. “All the other girls are staring at you. They’re seeing how busty you are? They’re all jealous.”

“Of me?”

My friend nodded. “This is just wild. Your mom’s gone crazy?”

“I don’t know,” I said, too scared to mention the panties and the D word printed on them. I drew in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling. My breasts rising and falling. Boys groaned as they drooled over me.

This was ... incredible. I always wondered why girls want to show off their flesh and attract boys’ attention. Now I was starting to understand it. It made me feel so naughty. So wicked and wanton. They desired me like I was a delight. A sexy delight. A shiver ran through me as I entered my classroom and my teacher, Mr. Beauregard, blinked at the sight of me.

I smiled at him.

I sat down, back straight like always, wishing my bra didn’t squeeze my breasts so much. Then everyone can see just how big they really were. Mother wanted me to do this, then it had to be okay. I always listen to my mother.

Chris sat down beside me, a roguish grin on his face. “Hey,” he said, nodding to me. “You look cute today.”

I couldn’t help the girlish giggle that burst from my lips. I had never made such a sound before in my life, but it made him grinned larger. I was feeling so wicked. I was feeling like one of those painted harlots.

Mr. Beauregard gathered himself and went into his lesson. I focused on his lecture like always. I felt all those boys staring at me. They were paying attention to me, not the teacher. I couldn’t help the smile on my lips. I couldn’t help taking delight in it. This was perfect. I wish I had done this before. My pussy was so juicy and itchy, maybe I would actually do it.

Maybe I would actually masturbate.

It was near the end of my lesson when the door opened and my mother walked in holding shopping bags. Everyone’s head snapped over. The plastic rustled. I blinked at the sight of her as she hurried over me.

“I bought these as fast as I could,” Mother said. “I’m so sorry for making you wear that baggy dress. Don’t worry, your mother will make you into a sexy delight.”

“Mom,” I gasped as she stopped before me.

“It’s okay,” she said, a broad smile on her lips. She dropped the shopping bag of clothes on the desk. “Mother is going to make everything right. Now, stand up and let’s get those clothes off of you.”

“Here!” I gasped as I found myself standing up, a naughty, wild tingle racing through my pussy.

“Yes, here,” Mother said. She glanced at Chris and smiled. “All the boys want to see what a sexy delight you are.”

The world had gone utterly mad today.

I groaned. This wonderful heat rushed through me as Mother attacked the final buttons of my blouse. Everyone was staring at me, seeing me. Was Vivian right? Was I actually cute? Even hot? That my mother was keeping me plain by dressing me frumpy and not allowing me to wear makeup? Did she lie to me about being attractive?

Why did my new panties cause her to realize the truth?

She clicked her tongue as she opened my blouse, shaking her head in disgust. “This bra is not going to work. I’m sorry, but I’ve been buying you bras two sizes too small. I was just trying to tame these things.”

As I shrugged out of my blouse, Mother reached behind me and unfastened my bra. I groaned as the pressure was taken off my breasts. They spilled out, large and pillowy soft, hanging with their heavy weight. Both my nipples were hard, and it wasn’t even cold in here. They thrust out fat from my wide areolas. Every boy in the classroom, Chris included, groaned at the sight of them.

“Damn,” Chris muttered, a big smile on his face.

Mr. Beauregard stared at me with this look no teacher should have for his student.

My back straightened as I drank in the attraction.

My mother squeezed my breasts. “I know,” Mother said. “I was such a bad woman for hiding these lush breasts. Mmm, isn’t my daughter such a sexy delight?”

“Hell yes!” groaned Chris.

Mother beamed as she gave my breasts the final squeeze, even me tingling. Her hands and slid down my torso, caressing my skin, sending waves of heat washing down to my juicy snatch. My cunt—that was such a naughty word to use for my pussy; it made me feel so wicked thinking it—clenched. I had this deep ache inside of me. I needed something to penetrate my virgin depths. I glanced at Chris, sighting the bulge of his cock.

I excited him.

Mother’s hands reached my skirt. She fumbled at the waistband, searching for the fastener. She found it while my body trembled. My large, exposed breasts swaying. Every boy watched them, their eyes tracking the slightest movement of my bountiful tits.

“I can’t believe I made you wear this garbage bag,” Mother said as she yanked the skirt down my legs. “But, ooh, what are you wearing? You naughty girl.”

SMACK!

I gasped as her hand spanked my panty-clad rump. Her hand lingered on my butt-cheek. I groaned as she squeezed my flesh, her fingers digging into my crack.

“Sexy Delight,” Mother read. “So you already knew. I should’ve let you wear stuff like this years ago. I’m so sorry, Heather. I’m going to be a good mother now. Mmm, you’re going to be my sexy delight.”