#momdom

And Ballsmasher did grope, and Dancer did tease.
And Stripper and Vixen bounced titties to please.
And Nipples and Cleavage and Boobies and Tits,
Tormented us boys with their scanty outfits.

We tried to resist them, we tried not to touch,
But their big Titmas tits were just really too much,
And Mistress then laughed, for all year she’d been waiting
To see us right here lined up men all a ‘baiting:

“It’s just like my list said, though I’m checking it twice:
These men are so naughty. Not one of them nice.
They play with their dicks, and they treat them like toys,
But making girls happy is the purpose of boys.”

Most boobs spurt out cream, but a few squirt out magic.
And the cream of Miss Claus is among the most tragic
with a click of her fingers, a squeeze of her breast.
The Mistress of Titmas did what she does best.

Naughty young Danny was stood first in place.
And the first one to feel Titmas cream on his face.
Falling back with a clatter, a gasp of such shock.
For his body was turning to hard, plastic cock.

Miss Claus plucked the wanker from down in the snow.
To his girlfriend went Danny, all wrapped in a bow.
The rosy-cheeked girl blushing bright with such glee:
“He’s a lovelier gift than I thought he could be!”

Next poor miss Rebecca with cream-engorged titty
Her brothers ‘came victims to Claus’s boob pity:
One sibling a dildo, Bec’s cleavage did hump
Two fondled her tits—an auto breast pump.

And to pink and to plastic turned old mister Willer.
Then stuffed in a gift-bra—a cute cleavage-filler.
And Alex and Toby, who once had been brothers
‘came a two-headed dildo for lesbian lovers.

And Bob to his wife would oft’ say: “Maybe later.”
‘til handed to her as a gift-wrapped vibrator.
And kind Mrs O’Hart loved dear her son Jack.
But she loved him much dearer all latex and black.

When Simon ‘came changed, his wife shunned her new prize:
“Got one slightly bigger? He’s not quite my size.”
Through this way and that, Claus worked through the lot.
And I felt my balls curdle as she came to my spot.

And screams turned to buzzing, though Dancer still giggled.
Her sisters in slutdom bounced, sashayed, and jiggled.
My throat came half-clogged with sobs threatened to choke.
But I could do nothing but stand there and stroke.

“You could have been happy.” said Mom, squishing boob.
“Are my tits so much worse than a rough hand and lube?
Now this is due payback for stroking it red.”
But dear mom’s cruel words gave Claus ideas instead:

“You’ve rubbed your cock hard, to a pretty red glow.”
“Perhaps you could help light my way in the snow?”
“It really won’t be near as bad as you think.”
(But who was Claus kidding with that teasing wink?)

“A slave for Miss Titmas? I’d rather be dick!”
But Claus told me, quite simply, boys don’t get to pick.
“It’s like your mom said, you gave up on your chance.
(I hope you like watching eight hot boobgirls dance).”

From her cleavage Claus plucked two ribbons with bell.
(And to keep my mom glad, a TitPounder XL)
One tied back my wrists and one went ‘round cock.
Which Miss Claus’s sex magic bound tight like a lock.

“Now lets be reasonable. I won’t let you jack.
But, honey, it’s Titmas! You need a full sack.”
And I squirmed and I writhed, as balls shuddered then grew.
My cock swollen, now painful—bright red above blue.

She fastened me proudly to front of her sleigh
Cock shining with lust always lighting the way.
To keep my cock throbbing all the way to North Pole—
For that was those eight girls true Titmas time role:

“You want me to touch it? Can’t you rub it yourself?—“
“—I’m a proud Titmas tease, not just some whore elf.”
“Is it always so hard? And you call me a slut—”
“—But you’re never not thinking of busting a nut.”

And just out of reach girls did tease and flirt.
They’d make me all horny, but not let me squirt.
And out of the lot, only Stripper seemed nice.
But I was probably just fooled by scent: nutmeg and spice.

“Oh you poor thing, balls painful and tight—”
“—Why don’t you stare at our tits for the night?”
“Sure leering at boobs won’t make you feel better—”
“—But seeing you suffer makes our nipples wetter.”

With her night’s work now done, Miss Claus sprang to her sleigh.
And with eighteen tits bouncing we flew all away.
But I heard her exclaim, as we drove out of sight—
“Happy Titmas to girls, and to girls a fun night!” 

So don’t be naughty this Titmas, don’t rub your dick raw,
Or you’ll learn that my Mistress has room for one more.
But don’t fret, never fear, she’s so kind to her flock.
Once yearly—on Titmas—she kisses my cock.

-A ‘traditional’ Titmas poem. Supposedly.

Anyway, I know it’s been a tough year, but I hope all your holidays are as happy as possible. Merry Titmas everyone.

Twas the night before Titmas, when all through the street,
Not a ‘bator was stroking, but one awful cheat.
The gift-bras were hung by our chimney with care,
For fear that Ms. Claus would come visit us there.

The jack-offs resisted their cocks in their beds,
While visions of sugar-tits bounced in their heads,
But mom with no bra, and my hand in my lap,
Her tits silenced my brain for a long winter’s fap.

When out on the lawn there arose a sweet moan,
And I sprang from our bed for we two weren’t alone.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
One-handed tore open the shutters and sash.

The moon on their breasts way up there in the sky,
Made me lusty and horny for women nearby.
When my wondering ears did hear laughter and bells,
I saw miniature sleigh and eight sexy boob-girls.

Up there a strict Mistress was driving eight whores,
And I knew in a moment she must be Miss Claus.
More lurid than porn-stars her coursers they came,
With a whistle, and shout, she cat-called them by name:

“Ballsmasher! and, Dancer! and Stripper and Vixen!
Oh, Nipples! oh, Cleavage! oh, Boobies! and Tits then!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
But jiggle your boobs and then take off clothes all!”

As big tits will surge against errant bra thread,
When they meet with a hurdle, straight through it they shred.
So up to the housetop the women they flew,
With a sleigh full of torments, and Mistress Claus too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard up above,
The moaning and gasping of girls making love,
And before I had taken my hand from my cock,
Down the chimney, Ms. Claus came, and gave me a shock.

Half-dressed all in fur, her big tits nigh in sight,
And her cleavage all silky, and oiled and bright.
With a bundle of gifts she had wrapped in a bra,
Each cup a gift-sack half the size of a car.

Her eyes—how they glared! Her expression, so cruel!
Her cheeks were like roses, but warm not at all.
Her sweet ruby mouth, an ice smile did show,
And the hair on her head was as sleek as the snow.

A handful of sweet-treats held tight in her breast,
So enticing—the cinnamon scent of her chest.
And her huge pair of tits laid on taut little belly,
So they shook when she laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. 

She was sexy, and tall, and sashayed a cute rear,
And I laughed when I saw her, but mainly from fear.
First a wink of her eye, then she blew me a kiss,
And I knew I’d be troubled escaping this Miss.

She spoke a few words, before starting her work:
“You look like a guy who must know how to jerk.”
I snatched hand off my cock, “It’s not true!” so I said.
”I only wank sometimes, and only in bed.”

So laughing, my Mom plucked a sweet from Claus’ chest:
“He’s a wicked young man, and ne'er gives it a rest.
He tugs it, he rubs it, he pumps, and he plays,
He slaps it, he gropes it, and strokes it for days.”

“Is this true?” Claus asked me, “You do nothing but ‘bate?
If nice boys I give treats, then that shan’t be your fate.”
To my mother spoke Claus: “Find the beds. Wake the boys.”
“For all naughty hand-humpers must turn into toys.”

And from house-then-to-house my dear mother did go,
The free-men of our street she did line in the snow.
And naked and freezing we stood out in the cold,
Us seeing no option but to do as she told.

So glared Mistress Titmas, and eight of her tarts:
“You better prepare, in ten seconds this starts.
For any good boy, this test shouldn’t take much:
To prove that you’re nice, then your penis don’t touch.”

And Ballsmasher did grope, and Dancer did tease,
And Stripper and Vixen bounced titties to please,
And Nipples and Cleavage and Boobies and Tits,
Tormented us boys with their scanty outfits.

-The first part of a cautionary poem. ‘Traditionally’ read by unenslaved men around Titmas time.

Traditions ain’t what they used to be.

The second half will follow right now.