Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Menu => Active Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Simonssister on August 21, 2023, 10:12:24 AM
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Chapter 1.
Robert Tucker had only two close relatives – his mother and his aunt. They had both shared responsibility for his upbringing, his mother providing most of the love and tenderness, his aunt the guidance and discipline. Indeed, his mother, Rosemary, had rather doted on him, even mollycoddled him a little, so his aunt’s influence became an important counterbalance to his mother’s indulgence.
Robert – Bobby, as he was always called – loved his mother dearly, but his attitude to his aunt was rather one of fascination than affection. Nicole was Rosemary’s elder sister by eight years. Bobby had first become aware of her as a fixture in his life when he was a toddler, and she was in her late twenties. She was a powerful physical presence, taller and more glamorous than his mother, and he associated her with the fragrance of perfume, the sharp click of heels, and the creak of leather boots. As he grew older these sensuous elements were supplemented by others: when she bent to kiss him, the sleek blackness of her hair, the scarlet gleam of her lips, and even the crusts of mascara on her long lashes. By the time he was five, he had an intense childish crush on her, which only grew with the years, and despite his other friendships, always made him feel most fulfilled when she was nearby.
As he grew up, it slowly dawned on him that Aunt Nicole was not only a woman of beauty, but a woman of mystery. She possessed some secret shared only by her sister, never spoken of, but occasionally hinted at by subtle tokens of silent conversation; sly winks, half-smiles quickly checked, the raise of an eyebrow. She was indeed a mysterious person. Bobby visited her and stayed overnight regularly. She lived alone in a large Victorian house with a front and a back gates and three external doorways. She didn’t seem to have any regular employment, but always seemed to have plenty of money, especially ready cash. She went out riding with her friends every weekend, and kept two horses at livery with the local riding stable. When Bobby started questioning her about what she did for a living, she would tell him she wrote articles and stories. When he asked about what, she would say,
“Oh…lots of things. I write technical articles about history and politics, also equestrianism, and also stories of all sorts.”
“Children’s stories?”
“Sometimes. Mostly grown-up stories, but sometimes children’s too…”
“Can you read me one?”
“Okay… But not today, dear. When you come over next week, all right?”
And she did. She read it from her tablet. He was thrilled. It was as good as anything he had ever read in a book. It was about a rabbit and a hare who fell in love, and, having been rejected by their own families, ran away together to another land where all the animals mixed together, and about all the difficulties they had to overcome on the way, and all the fights they got into, and the clever ways they defeated or eluded their enemies. He had to stay over two nights because it was so long, and when he got home he tried to relate the whole thing to his mother, but couldn’t remember it all, and she laughed and cuddled him and said something about his “bad, clever Auntie Nicole”…
Of course, after that he was continually asking for new stories. Sometimes Nicole would say she had work to do and didn’t have time to read to him that evening, or tell him he was too tired and needed to sleep. It took him a few weeks, but eventually he realised she had no stock of stories ready to read to him. No – each time she would go away and write a new one especially for him! That was how it seemed, anyway. Either way, she was good at making them up and good at telling them.
But the stories were a bonus. He had begun to feel a physical attraction towards her when he was quite young. By the time he was twelve, it had developed into something more erotic. She had what can only be called “presence”, and she exuded sensuality. Once his mother had been ill, and she had taken him to parents’ evening at school. She had worn her hair brushed back and pinned in a bun, bright red lipstick, a short black dress, and high-heeled over-the-knee boots. She was not averse to using her charms as a means of disabling criticism. He had noticed some of his friends staring at her. Not only the children, but several of the adults were equally unable to conceal their interest. His maths teacher, shy at the best of times, became almost inarticulate under her questioning. A droop of the eyelids and an amused, flirtatious, pout of her full lips made him blush and stammer, and apparently forget the name of the child they were supposed to be discussing.
As me moved into his teens, his burgeoning sexual feelings, desperately seeking an outlet, chose to overflow into the nearest and most irresistible vessel – his aunt. He was still staying over at least twice a week, often more frequently, as his mother was only too happy for Nicole to share the burden. He had his own room there, with his posters on the wall, and his own desk where he could do his homework. Nicole looked after him as attentively as his mother, washing his clothes, feeding him healthy food, waking him in the morning, making sure he had done his chores. But now he was older she maintained an appropriate distance, never straying into the role of a substitute mother or some sort of surrogate platonic girlfriend. (For a reason Bobby didn’t discover until much later, she was quite used to this sort of personal detachment.) In other words, she behaved exactly as a good responsible aunt should. Bobby respected her all the more for this; but the strictly-controlled relationship also honed the edge of his lust! Being denied any close physical contact was frustrating, so he supplied the deficiency with lurid nighttime imaginings, flowing in and out of dreams, and focussing on the superficial icons of her presence – her semi-fetishistic outfits, and in particular, her penchant for boots of all sorts.
He had noticed that his aunt seemed often to have urgent appointments. Sometimes she would check her watch and excuse herself – “back in an hour or so darling”. She didn’t always take the car, and when she didn’t she didn’t always leave by the front gate. When he asked, it was always “quick meeting with my publisher”, or “meeting up with Sarah for lunch”. When she was out, he would sometimes sneak into her bedroom and explore her wardrobe or chest of drawers, or admire some of her boots. Doing so was like a dare he set himself, and the excitement of touching her clothing was enhanced by his nervousness. Her room was directly at the top of the stairs, and the bottom of the stairs was opposite the front door. If she came back suddenly and decided to go straight up to her room…what would he do? He shuddered at the thought, and spent many hours refining his possible excuses – anything from “I was just looking for a pen” to “I thought I saw a mouse run in here”…
It was a Tuesday. It was half-term, and Bobby was at a loose end. Just before ten Nicole left for one of her meetings, saying she’d be back sometime after lunch. She was wearing leather pants, a short leather jacket, and ankle boots. She took the car, which was a reliable indicator of a lengthy absence. Bobby gave her fifteen minutes, then crept upstairs. He had no reason to creep apart from his sense of guilt. His heart was beating fast, and he was feeling particularly horny that morning, having woken up from a particular vivid dream. He unlocked the wardrobe door and opened it slowly. He sighed. The scent of leather and latex filled his nostrils. Then his gaze fell upon something new in one corner – a pair of shiny boots on boot-trees – ones he hadn’t seen before. He knelt and, hands trembling, he drew one out. He gasped. These were brand new. Yes, they were riding-boots, but not like any he had seen before. He placed the boot on its wooden tree on the floor in front of him. They were tall of riding-boots. They would come up well over the knee. But that wasn’t the main thing. They were made of heavy, smooth rubber – but instead of the usual black, they were a dull, sensual red!
“Gosh! These are…amazing!” he whispered. “Awesome!”
Now his heart was pounding, his throat tightening with excitement. Turning it round, he discovered that it laced up at the back. The edges were bound with eyeletted red leather, through which was threaded a long black leather lace. He gulped.
“She’s gonna need someone to help lace these up…” He was almost choking with lust, and his boyhood was already straining at his jeans. The whole thing was too much for him.
He lifted the second boot from the wardrobe, and arranged them side by side on the floor. He tried to imagine his aunt standing before him. He was overwhelmed with desire. Stealing a quick glance to the open door on his left, he surrendered to his emotions. He slowly unzipped his jeans, allowing his stiff coc-k to spring out. It was already oozing in anticipation. It was about to drip onto the floor, so he thrust forward and deftly transferred the juices to the left boot, where they trickled slowly down the shiny surface. The touch of the rubber was cool on the head of his pen-is, but so smooth, making him gasp with pleasure. There was no going back. The wooden trees had handles at the top. He grasped them firmly, holding the boots together, and began to push his overheated prick in between them. The head slipped up the cleft, coating the insides of the boots with pre-c-um. He drew back and repeated the movement. He soon got into a good steady rhythm, eyes closed and biting his lip to prevent himself c-umming too soon. After a minute or two his juice was flowing freely, trickling down the boots while his thrusts whipped it into a froth. He revelled in the perverted pleasure of despoiling his aunt’s new boots, and was soon smearing his sticky slime all over the fronts and the feet as well, making as much mess as he possibly could! He had never had so much fun!
Nicole had had her meeting cancelled when she was half way to her destination. She had some shopping to do anyway, but when she discovered she had left her credit cards at home, she realised she would have to call back at the house on the way. She left the car in the road and hurried in through the back gate, kicking off her boots at the door; so Bobby didn’t hear her walk into the hallway or start to climb the stairs. She was two-thirds of the way up when she caught side on his head, thrown back as if in ecstasy. She froze. What was he up to in her room? She could hear a sort of faint regular plopping sound, like cream being whipped. She peeped over the landing. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock. She was just about to call out, when it occurred to her this was a golden opportunity, much too good to be wasted by a mere scolding. She pulled out her phone, hit video record, and, ducking down behind the stairs, positioned it on the edge of the landing. By now her naughty nephew was making quite a lot of vocal noise as well. All to the good, she thought, with a wry smile. Please don’t notice the phone. But she needn’t have worried. Bobby was far too distracted by his little exercise to notice anything. The performance continued, with occasional pauses, for several minutes, before his moans and gasps reached a sudden crescendo. Then, “Oh! Oh” “Oh…gosh!” “Yesss!” Then another few seconds of silence, a whimper, and the clatter of the boots apparently falling over. Nicole took this as her cue to retire. She retreated backwards down the stairs, and tip-toed back into the kitchen at the back of the house. She put away her phone. “I’ll check this out later!” She waited five minutes, then slammed the back door and called out to Bobby.
“Hello? Bobby? I’m home, dear. Where are you?”
She made her way to the foot of the stairs.
“Are you up there, sweetie?”
He must still be in her room. Well, she wasn’t going to give him any longer. She climbed the stairs.
“Bobby? Are you there?”
Bobby had had time to recover a little, and to fetch a roll of tissue from the bathroom to start cleaning up. He had wiped the boots, but they were still gleaming with moisture, and he hadn’t had time to put them away. Hurriedly he mopped the floor, and stuffed the damp tissue into his pocket just before his aunt appeared at the doorway. She feigned surprise.
“Bobby? What are you doing in here?”
“Me? Oh, I….you know, I…”
“And what are you doing with my new boots?”
He had to say something. In his desperation he could only think of his most improbable excuse.
“Well, you know. Er, what happened is…”
“Yes?”
“I saw this mouse, see? He went into your room. Like he was not very big, sort of little, but… So then, I came in after him, and I think I saw him go into the wardrobe…”
“But I locked it this morning.” She was trying not to laugh, and she wanted to see what sort of lame excuse he could come up with about her boots.
“You did? Yes, maybe…but I’m sure he went towards it, so I thought he could be inside, like, and then if you opened the door and he, like, jumped out, you could be shocked, and so I opened the door, then I, like, saw these boots and thought maybe he could have got inside, so I took them out…”
“They look wet…”
“Yeah, so I put them on the floor, and when I was about to put them back I noticed they’d got dusty from the floor – sorry about that – so I like got some wet tissue and…”
“You cleaned them for me?”
“Yeah… I mean, I hope that’s all right…”
“Yes. Bobby, of course it’s all right. Thank you! You know I don’t have time to clean all my boots. I have so many pairs… I only wish I had someone to do it for me…”
“Do you? Really? Let me do it, auntie! I’d love to help!”
“Bobby, that’s so kind… But I couldn’t… You’re so busy with school work, for one thing…”
“Aunt! I’d love to help you with your boots! I’d do it really well! I’d use all the proper creams an’ stuff. Please let me!”
Nicole looked doubtful. “Well…only if you’re sure…”
“I am! Let me show you! Give me a trial!”
“If you’re serious, then…okay. Do you really want to be my official little boot boy?”
“Yeah. I really do!”
“All right, then. It’s agreed. You’ve certainly done a good job today. One thing, though - you’ll have to have an official uniform. And you must let me pay you.”
“Uniform?”
“Of course. Otherwise no job. Agreed? And I'll pay you ten pounds an hour.”
“Well…okay… Wow. What sort of uniform?”
“You’ll see. It may take a week or two to organise. You start next week. This week I’ll give you training. But you must promise to wear your uniform whenever you’re working – no, in fact, whenever I tell you too. Is it a deal?”
“Deal!”
“Good boy! And thank you for cleaning my new boots today. They look super – so shiny and bright. I can’t wait to wear them for riding at the weekend…”
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Chapter 2.
Bobby, stammering thanks, and barely able to contain his embarrassment, backed hurriedly out of his aunt’s room and ran to the bathroom to dispose of the sticky tissue and have a wash. He was shaking with relief.
“Phew - that was a close one,” he murmured. “Why did she come back so soon? I never heard her come in. I’ll have to be more careful in future.” He flushed away the tissue and got in the shower, and as he showered he reflected on his adventure. “Thank goodness she didn’t look too closely at those boots! S’pose she’d realised! What would I have done then?” But then he relaxed a little and grinned to himself. “She’s gonna wear them Saturday. What would her friends think if they discovered why they were so nice and shiny? Yes, I think I’ll ask if I can go with her. I can take some pics of her wearing her spunky boots! What a laugh!” He frowned. “But I wonder where she bought them? I’ve never seen riding boots like that anywhere! She’s gonna look something mounted on her horse with those things right up to her thighs. Makes me shiver to think about it…”
In her bedroom Nicole had locked the door, put in her earphones, and sat down to watch the show she had recorded. She started the video as was soon transfixed by what she was seeing.
“Why, that rude little puppy!” she whispered. “I thought I knew some perverts all right, but he’s the worst! He’s really enjoying himself, the little scamp – having a great time! I wonder what’s going on in his mind… I think I can guess. He’s getting me back for being strict with him. I bet he’s thinking something like, ‘Ha, ha, look at what I’m doing to my dear auntie’s best boots. I wonder what she’d say if she could see me now! Well, auntie, just wait a bit, cos I’m gonna cover your cool new boots with gallons of nice creamy c-um!’
The climax, when it came, was pretty spectacular all right. Wad after wad of Bobby’s pent-up sperm splattering against the rubber and rolling down in sticky rivulets onto the floor. Nicole recoiled in horror. “That’s totally gross!” Her face paled in anger. “Just you wait, Bobby Tucker. You’ll pay for this!” She gave a short laugh. “You have no idea how many pairs of boots I actually have. You’re going to be spending a lot of time on your knees from now on. And not pleasuring yourself – I’ll make sure of that! No, young sir. I’m going to train you until you’re the best boot boy in town. You’re going to be so good that every lady with a pair of boots is going to demand your services! You won’t have any more spare time, sweetie, and you’re going to regret the day you thought you could take advantage of your Aunt Nicole!”
Nicole was right - Bobby had no idea about the range of boots she could boast of – because most of them were stored downstairs in the basement, an area which was only accessible via a small external door and a hidden door in a locked boxroom under the stairs. From the presence of the external door Bobby had suspected the house had a cellar, but Nicole had always dismissed it with some remark about it being a small storage room full of boxes and cobwebs. Little did he know…
Training started the very next day. Bobby rushed his breakfast, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door.
“See you later, auntie!”
“Wait! And where do you think you’re going?”
He half-turned and looked at her, surprised. “You know… I’m gonna meet my mates, and…”
“No you’re not.”
“Er… Sorry?”
“Boot training starts today. Two hours every morning while you’re on holiday.”
“But…”
“You agreed to this, remember?”
“But my mates…”
“Ring them and tell them you’ll be a little bit late. Now, follow me. Everything’s ready for you.”
Bobby’s face fell, but he knew better than to question his aunt’s instructions, so he trotted after her. She led him to the utility room next to the kitchen. Against the far wall she had lined up four pairs of boots – rubber riding boots, fashionable high-heeled leather knee-boots, leather thigh-boots with zip-up backs, and vinyl thigh books with lace-up backs. In front of them was a kneeling mat, two pairs of rubber gloves, and a case neatly packed with bottles and jars and tins of cleaning materials, a range of brushes, and various cloths. Bobby stared at the array in some surprise. He looked at his aunt, smiling sweetly at him, and back to the display.
“What…? I have to clean…all those?”
“Yes. I’m not going to give you any help or advice. It’s a sort of test of your ingenuity. You’ll have to work it all out for yourself. I want to see how competent a cleaner you’re going to be. Read the instructions carefully and you’ll soon discover which product is best for which material. I want all those boots thoroughly cleaned and gleaming within two hours. Then you can go out. So that’ll be…let’s see…eleven-fifteen. But you won’t be able to leave until they’re all done. Oh, and by the way, you’ll need to take out that lacing and clean it separately and then re-thread it. It that all clear?”
“I s’pose so…”
“If you make a mess of things I’ll have to find another boy to be my boot boy.”
“No way! I’ll do a good job, auntie. Don’t worry. Don’t bring any other kids in here!”
“I hope so. On the whole I think I’d prefer you as my boot boy. Though you should know, there’s quite a queue for the position if you fail…”
He stared at her. “What does that mean? A queue…?”
But all he got by way of reply was a wry smile. Then she turned and left him alone with his task.
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Great beginning, can't wait to learn about his uniform
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Chapter 3.
This unexpected turn of events left Bobby flustered, and for several minutes he descended into a state of panic, like a student presented with an incomprehensible exam paper. In such cases the remedy is to calm down, read the paper, and use it to build confidence. Which is just what Bobby knew he had to do. He read the instructions on all the containers, and placed each opposite its appropriate boots. There was only one cleaner for the vinyl boots, a mild detergent which had to be mixed with water, so, having removed the long leather lace and waxed it, he dealt with those first. The leather boots had to be brushed first to remove any dirt and dust, then treated with oily creams and set aside for an hour. The rubber riding boots he first washed and dried. For these it appeared there were two possible treatments – liquid polish, which would give a high-gloss finish, or a fine talc-um, which would yield a dull, rich glow. He opted for the second, cleaning the seams with a small brush and polishing the rubber with a soft cloth until it shone. He was so intent on doing a good job, and was enjoying the work so much, he even forgot to get excited. It was only later, as he buffed the leather boots into a supple, subtle shine, that he realised that they would soon be encasing his aunt’s strong, slender calves, and felt his erection growing at the thought.
While this was going on upstairs, Nicole had entered the room beneath the stairs, produced a key, and opened the hidden door. She threw a switch, and a flight of wooden stairs was revealed. She descended fifteen steps and clicked another switch. A row of three chandeliers flickered into life, revealing in their subdued light a long, high-ceilinged room, extending away clearly beyond the footprint of the house itself. This huge cellar was the reason she had bought the house in the first place. The chandeliers left many of the walls and corners in darkness, but there were spotlight or floodlight fitments at intervals around the walls that were presumably intended to illuminate individual areas. In the gloom there were also glimpses of steel and leather equipment, cupboards, and racks of strange artifacts. Nicole crossed to the far wall and turned on a small floodlight. A glittering gold throne blazed into view, raised on a dais of polished wood, with lion heads on the arm-rests and the horned head of some warrior-like female divinity at the apex of the high back. To the left a series of chains, graded by link-size, hung from a hooked rack, and on the right a similar rack held a variety of whips and canes. Next to the chain-rack was a heavy double-doored cupboard, probably of oak, and to this Nicole went. She opened one door, revealing a row of boots, of all types and lengths, thigh boots to ankle boots, flat heels to the tallest blocks and steel stilettos. She smiled and nodded in satisfaction.
“These should keep him busy,” she murmured, “till it’s time to teach him the real meaning of obedience…”
Upstairs, Bobby was feeling pleased with himself. It was only five past eleven, and he only had to rethread the leather lace into the vinyl thigh-boots and he would be finished. He had just completed that task when Nicole reappeared.
“I’ve finished, aunt.”
“Already? Let me have a look.” She squatted down and examined her boots. She hadn’t expected much of Bobby, and she was genuinely impressed. She caressed the soft leather of her fashion boots. “You’ve really done a very good job, Bobby. Well done! Wow. I can see I won’t have to look any further for a boot-boy. You’re a natural!”
She stood up. His face was flushed with pride.
“Here. You deserve to be paid for this. You’ll need a bit more training, but I reckon in a week…”
She handed over two ten pound notes.
“Wow! Thanks, auntie!”
“I wasn’t going to start paying you yet, but you’ve earned it. Now off you go and meet your friends. And have a good day. Let me know when you’re likely to be home and I’ll have your dinner ready.”
As the door slammed behind him, Nicole was pouring herself a glass of dry white wine. She sat down on the sofa.
“He’s quite something. Cute and able. I hope his uniform arrives soon. I wonder…”
But at that moment the her phone rang.
“Hello? Hello, Lavinia. Yes, I can be…anytime this afternoon…two thirty till…? Okay, four. An hour and a half then. No problem. Always room for my favourite client… See you then, darling.”
Nicole entertained male and female clients. She had earned herself quite a name with the girls. They needed her services just as much as the boys. Lavinia was one of her horsey friends, and a long-standing regular. Every now and then she got herself into a state – it could be anger or sheer frustration – and needed a quick fix. Through her Nicole had made contact with several other female clients, including two of the stable girls from Fleetford stables where she rode and had horses. For the less well-heeled visitors she always charged low rates, especially when they were people she liked. She no longer needed to work as hard as she did in the old days, and could pick and choose her clients. She loved her work. Being totally in control always gave her a thrill. One day, she thought, who knows? Bobby might find himself in her dungeon kneeling at her feet – or at her boots, to be more precise. But for now she was confident she could tame adequately him upstairs. She smiled a self-congratulatory smile.
Out with his mates, Bobby was rather distracted.
“What’s up with you today, Bobby? Won the lottery or sumfink?”
“Yeah, right. What is it? Grinning like an idiot all the time.”
“Oh, nothing really… Just that my aunt gave me some dosh, that’s all.”
“Yeah? Ice creams on you then, mate.”
His best friend Arthur looked sideways at him.
“Your aunt… She must have some dough, yeah? I mean, that house…and she doesn’t have a proper job, does she?”
“What does she do, Bobby?”
“Er, I think she’s like, a writer of something… I’m not sure…”
"She pretty cool, anyway..."
But of course Aunt Nicole did have a job, and at that precise moment she was heavily engaged in her work. Lavinia was strapped face-down to a padded bench, struggling against her bonds, and swearing loudly at her tormentor.
“fuc-k you, bitch!” she was screaming. “Let me out of here. Now! You just wait, you sadistic cow! I’ll… I’ll…”
“Save your breath, slut.” As she buckled on the leather strap-on, she regarded Lavinia’s buttocks, criss-crossed with red weals from the dressage whip, with satisfaction. She made sure it was secure and tight, lubricated the firm rubber dil-do, and pressed it gently against her client’s exposed pussy. Lavinia moaned faintly, all her bravado suddenly evaporating.
“Please… fuc-k me hard, miss…”
“Don’t worry about that…”
At the end of the session, the two women relaxed exhausted on an exercise mat against the wall. Lavinia’s head was resting on Nicole’s shoulder.
“God, I feel so much better. You really know how to get to me…”
“I do too, Lavvy. Why do I enjoy fuc-king you so much?”
Lavinia laughed. “Because you’re a total pervert? Talking of which, what was that you said about hiring a boot cleaner? Is it someone I know?”
“Well, sort of. I found my nephew Bobby taking his pleasure on my new riding boots. Seems like he has a thing about boots – mine, at least. So I’m going to train him up. I might let you see him once he’s got his new uniform.”
“Uniform? What sort of uniform…?”
“You’ll see. Simple but cute. Pink, to go with his big blue eyes and blond hair.”
“Ooh, that I want to see. He already looks so cute just as he is. But will you be able to persuade him…? I mean, he’s all boy, isn’t he?”
“Hmm. When I’ve finished with him there definitely won’t be any doubt about that!”
“You’re lucky. I wish he were mine. I’d make him my housemaid.”
Nicole turned her head and stared at her. “Would you? That’s not a bad idea. I’ve just realised, with what I have on him, I can do anything I want, can't I? Thanks, Lavvy!”
“Don’t thank me – just lend him to me occasionally…”
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Chapter 4.
Over the course of the following week, Nicole gave Bobby some detailed training in his new profession. Half-term was over, so he came round after school every day to be instructed in such niceties as: cleaning eyelets with pipe-cleaners; the correct method of using liquid rubber polish; removing mud from leather boots and rubber boots, including the correct brushes for removing dirt from stitching; how to wash soles without getting water on the uppers; when to use a brush and when to use a cloth to apply leather creams; and so on. She had given him his own note book to record all this information. She had stuck a printed label on the front cover: “Bobby’s Boot-Boy Training Manual”, and insisted he carried it with him so he could revise, which stipulation made him rather nervous someone in school might notice it. But fortunately for him, no-one discovered his secret.
The latex elements of his uniform – the pants and the gloves - arrived on Saturday morning. Nicole already had the rest, save the little bomber jacket for outside wear which was still being embroidered. She was about to go riding, and was wearing the boots Bobby had so thoughtfully cleaned for her. He had asked if she minded him watching her today at the stables. Of course she agreed. And then he was due to visit Nicole that evening for supper, and to stay over, so it was good timing. Nicole laid out his outfit on her bed. She hadn’t wanted anything too elaborate, in case it put him off. So she had focussed on simplicity and comfort. New red trainers – cool expensive ones, which she knew he’d love – a matching baseball cap, with the words “BOOT BOY” embroidered in neon pink both back and front – in case he decided to wear it backwards. A bright pink T-shirt with “BOOT BOY” printed across the chest in bright red letters, short enough so it would barely cover his tummy-button, and matching short socks. And the pièce de résistance – a pair of beautiful pink latex hot pants, with “BOOT BOY” in bold red letters moulded in across the butt! These had been ordered from her favourite latex clothing supplier, who was used to providing her with custom-made items. Nicole had ordered these in medium weight latex – not too thick so that it wouldn’t constrict his freedom – and had ordered them a half-size too small, so they would fit him snugly. She had specified a red waistband and tight red frills at the legs, to match the overall colour-scheme. And she had requested one other modification: welded onto the inside of the crotch was a small loop of latex ribbon. Nicole, conscious that the fine, close-fitting hot pants would leave very little to the imagination, had decided to turn the unavoidable to advantage. The loop would fit around the base of Bobby’s boyhood, keeping it nice and firm and roughly vertical, and his little balls symmetrical. Given he would be polishing ladies’ boots wearing taut, slick rubber pants, she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t be aroused. So if it was inevitable that he was going to be sporting an erection, better that it should look neat and tidy. The last thing she wanted was a boot boy of hers with his thing waving about all over the place, especially when she introduced him to her friends. No, he needed to maintain a professional composure at all times. If he had to get all hot and bothered, that was his affair, but outwardly it was vital he stay prim and proper, and focus purely on his work. The final touch was a pair of short red latex gloves, matching the red latex on his pants.
“Yes, he will probably need a few more days training in self-discipline,” she mused, as she smeared a few drops of lubricant onto the inside of the pants. “He needs to learn to concentrate and control himself at all times. And I think I know how to teach him…”
As she said this, her hand closed unconsciously around the handle of her riding whip. Then she stood up, went downstairs, and departed.
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Chapter 5.
Nicole drove to the Fleetford Stables and Riding School and parked her car in the car park. Her friend Sarah had just arrived. It was a warm day, and she was wearing shiny blue silicone full seat breeches and a little vest. Nicole smiled. She wouldn’t have minded having her over her lap for a good hard spanking, but Sarah was if anything the other way inclined. Never mind. Nicole guessed she be first in line for a loan of her new toy.
“Hi Sarah.”
“Hi Nicole. How are you? Are those new boots I see? They’re rather sexy, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I hope they are – that was the intention!”
They sniggered like schoolgirls, and turned towards the stables. Nicole saw that Fiona, one of the stable girls, was already saddling her horse, Maxim, a lovely tall chestnut with white feet. She waved, and Fiona waved back. Then she saw Bobby, standing behind Maxim.
“Ah. There he is.”
“Who? Oh, isn’t that your nephew? What’s he doing here?”
“Come to see his handiwork, Sarah.”
“Handiwork? What’s he done, then?”
“He cleaned my boots for me.”
“Cleaned your boots? Really? How did you persuade him to do that? Will he clean mine if I ask him?”
“I’m sure he would,” she laughed. “The little pervert would be only too pleased!”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
But Sarah looked alarmed. “What do you mean, “pervert”? You know he has a crush on my Chrissy. You’d better tell me what’s going on.”
“Don’t worry, he’s not going to mess with your daughter. He has a little fetish, that’s all. It’s quite sweet, really. But I’m going to exploit it. Wait till we’re out of the stables.”
“Now he’s staring at you, Nicole. Don’t tell me he’s fallen for you! Now he taking photos, see? What’s going on? Tell me!”
But Sarah had to wait until they were out of the stables and riding on the heath. Nicole told her the first part of the story.
“So then I ducked down and rested my phone on the landing. So, want to see what he was doing?”
“Hand it over…now…”
“Here you go. Don’t you dare tell anyone, though.”
“I won’t, Nicole, promise…”
They reined in their mounts and let them graze. Sarah took the phone and started the video. As she watched her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She watched it to the end, then stared at Nicole, quite speechless.
Nicole couldn’t help laughing. “Well? What do you think?”
“He…he…I mean, that’s…just, like, unbelievable! I thought he was such a nice boy! But after seeing that…”
“He’s a teenager, Sarah, bursting with hormones and nowhere for them to go…”
“Well he certainly found somewhere that day, didn’t he? So…did you tell him off…or what did you do? I would have given him a good hard spanking, and told his mother!”
“Nothing. He has no idea I saw him, let alone filmed him. It was hilarious. He was so embarrassed. He pretended to have been cleaning my boots, so I just thanked him, and let him think I’d seen nothing.”
“So…that’s why he’s here…he’s come to see you wearing the boots in public that he covered with c-um, right?”
“I guess so.”
“And he thinks you don’t know…”
“I’m sure he thinks I don’t know.”
“So what’s he going to do with the photos? Show his mates? Or are they just…”
“To entertain himself? I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Nicole! That’s totally gross! How could you allow him to…well, you know… What would Chrissy think if she saw that video?”
“Actually, that’s a point,” mused Nicole. “If she saw it, she’d probably tell the whole school. He’d be finished. That’s worth remembering…”
“So you’re just going to let him get away with it?”
“Not at all. Don’t worry. I have a plan.”
“What plan?”
Nicole grinned. “After he told me he’d cleaned my boots, I offered him a job as my personal boot boy. Well, you know I’ve got quite a collection, and I could use the help.”
“And he went for it?”
“Of course. He couldn’t believe his luck.”
“But surely, he’ll just use it as an excuse to abuse all your boots!”
“Sarah, darling, he won’t get the chance. I’m going to make sure he’s supervised. I’m going to have one of the spare rooms renovated and made into my boot room. There’ll be twenty-four hour CCTV coverage. But best of all, I’m going to dress him in the cutest little uniform with sweet little pink rubber pants, so I can watch him get all worked up and not be able to do a thing about it. When I have him fully trained as an obedient little boot boy, I’m going to lend him to my friends or rent him out to anyone who needs him. Believe me, this is going to be the best punishment. What good would a spanking have done? This will keep him occupied for years, and it’ll be fun for me too.”
“But if he refuses…?”
“I’ll crack the whip a little. If that fails, I’ll show him the video. I’ll tell him I’ve given it to you and you want to show Chrissy.”
“Yes, I see…. You’re not a dominatrix for nothing, are you, dear?”
Nicole smiled, coyly.
Sarah handed back the phone, and the ladies trotted on.
“So when can I see his uniform?” she asked, eagerly. “Let me help, Nicole, won’t you? I’d love to have the little scamp grovelling at my feet. I’d give him what for, all right.”
“Sure. You’re second in the queue after Lavinia. She wants him as her maid, I think.”
“Yeah? That’s a great idea! Let’s form a club! Ladies in Boots! We can hand him round. Make his life hell!”
“Sarah, really. What a perverted suggestion! I’m shocked.” She paused. “I mean, we’d have to ask Lavvy, but…that’s not a bad idea, actually…”
-
Chapter 6.
When Nicole went home that afternoon, she decided to leave her riding clothes on. She was wearing her favourite beige breeches. She changed her shirt for a pastel blue roll-neck stretch top which emphasized her breasts, and her dirty riding boots for high-heeled ankle boots.
“He can clean those after I’ve got him into his uniform,” she thought.
He turned up early, just after four. He looked flushed and excited.
“Hello, Bobby. I saw you at the stables this morning. I didn’t say hello – you seemed to be too busy taking photos.”
“Oh, er…yes…that’s right. I photographed the horses…”
“Oh. I thought you might take a snap of me…and perhaps Sarah…”
“Oh, er, yes, I did…”
“Can I see them?”
“I er…”
“They’re on your phone, right?” She held out her hand. He didn’t really have any choice.
There were two photos of horses, and at least twenty or thirty of her and Sarah, focussing mainly on their butts and their boots. He turned bright red.
“Hmm. I see…”
“I didn’t get the angles I wanted… It was difficult, you were like moving about a lot…and then you got mounted and rode off…”
“Nice photos, anyway. Can I send them to myself? I’d like to show Sarah…”
“Er, no, I’d rather you didn’t… They’re not that good…”
“Oh, well. I’ll have them anyway. There we go. Now, Bobby. You’ll be pleased to hear your indoor uniform has arrived. Come upstairs and try it on.”
He followed her up to the bedroom. He looked around, warily, spotted the things on the bed, did a double take, and began to back away.
“No don’t be shy. Take everything off and put on your uniform. Be careful with the pants. They were quite expensive. But they should slip on quite easily. Call me when you’re dressed.”
“But I’m not sure…”
“Do it, please, Bobby. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble. If you want to work for me, you’re going to need to be properly turned out.”
“But I didn’t think it would be that sort of uniform…”
“What do you mean? What sort of uniform? I put a lot of thought and effort into this. Please don’t make me angry, Bobby. Just put it on as you’ve been asked.”
His aunt could be quite scary at times. “I’m sorry, aunt, okay, I’ll put it on now.”
“That’s better.”
It took him a good fifteen minutes. Nicole guessed he was looking at himself in the mirror, horrified. At last she heard a faint voice.
“Auntie? I’m dressed…”
She opened the door and walked in. He was standing with his back to the window, rubber-gloved hands clasped in front of him, his cap slanted to one side, his trainers unlaced. She suppressed the urge to laugh, and maintained a serious face.
“Right, let me see… Yes, you look really good… Everything fits properly. Look at yourself in the wardrobe mirror. Don’t you like it?”
“I like the trainers…”
“And the rest?”
“The cap’s cool…”
“The pants are very smart, don’t you think?”
“They’re not very comfortable… Why are they made of…rubber?”
“Latex? Because it’s flexible for when you have to kneel, and it can easily be cleaned if you accidentally get polish or something on it, and it looks very smart. Bobby, take your hands away, please. Ah, I see the problem. You haven’t got everything in place. Now, stand still, please. I’ll pull the waistband open. Don’t worry, I won’t look! Now, do you see a loop right down in the crotch?”
“Y-yes, I think so…”
“Well you need to open it up and thread all your parts through.”
“S-sorry?”
“Hold it open with one hand – go on – now put everything through – everything – done that?”
“Er…”
“Have you done that?”
“Er…yes…”
“Good… Now let go of the loop so that it snaps back behind everything….”
Snap! “Ow!”
“Good boy! There you are. That’s how they’re supposed to be worn. Remember always to do that. It’ll keep everything neat and tidy. Now, let’s see…let’s straighten your cap… That’s better.” She knelt down. “Now your little socks… And tie you shoes… There. The gloves fit you perfectly, don’t they? I’ll just check your pants again…”
Nicole fussed with the leg frills, and adjusted the waistband till the side seams were nice and straight. She was delighted to observe his little balls were now neatly positioned side by side, and that his member was beginning to swell and slide up vertically under its lubricated latex skin. She turned him around and smiled to see the bright lettering across his butt, gave him a little pat, and turned him back again.
“Keep your hands by your sides, please! I’m trying to make sure your pants are nice and straight.”
She fussed with the frills a little more, tugging at one then the other as if trying to make them level. What she was actually doing making the latex chafe against his steadily-growing boyhood. This subterfuge, combined with constricting effect of the latex loop, soon brought him to full tumescence, and from her kneeling position she was able to observe the result at close quarters. His pen-is, when fully erect, produced a vertical, flattened, sausage-shaped mound an impressive five inches tall. It’s contours, especially the swollen head, were faithfully delineated under the fine rubber, and every now and then it would twitch with pleasure.
“Bobby! Don’t slouch! Stand up straight, please!”
Nervously, he pulled himself to attention, making it slide upwards another inch. Nicole drew a deep breath. She guessed that by now it must be oozing freely, and that both the latex and Bobby’s tummy would be equally slick and slippery. This was even better than she had hoped. There would be no going back for him, and the longer she kept him in this outfit, the more of his c-um would end up in his pants and the less there would be available to defile her boots! Moreover he would become irresistible to her friends and acquaintances, and he’d be in such demand that he’d be obliged to surrender himself to a life of boot cleaning and servitude! He would surely become a slave, not only to women, but to the pleasure of serving them, to their affection, and to the sensual delights of tight latex!
She stood up. Bobby looked at her, a hint of reproach in his expression, but with the realisation he was totally in her power.
“Right, Bobby. Time for some photos, I think. Let’s go into the garden.”
“Auntie…?”
She picked up a riding whip. “Shush, my little boot boy. Just follow me and do as you’re told and we’ll get on fine.”
He followed meekly behind and she descended the stairs. Once outside she made him stand on an old tree stump, and sat and relaxed in a garden chair and videoed him. Once on this rural pedestal his humiliation provoked the most amusing narrative, as he squirmed, pressed his thighs together, touched himself, then hurriedly took his hand away, looked up, down and every which way, took his erection in hand again and quickly released it, blushed crimson, bit his lip, adjusted his cap, took hold of his leg frills, weaved his gloved fingers together, put one in his mouth like a naughty six-year-old, glanced down fearfully at his embarrassingly conspicuous erection, gasped, looked as though he was about to cry, then as if he were about to c-um. Nicole didn’t have to do anything; he put on this delightful show all by himself. But finally she decided it was time to take control.
“Now turn around and waggle your butt, Bobby. That’s it. More – I want to see what’s written on your bum. Good! Now look over your shoulder and smile. Smile! And stop playing with yourself! I know what you’re up to! If you want to do that, turn round and show me. What’s the matter? Too shy? Oh, dear. Come on, do it. Just for me. Please? You know you want to. Look how big and stiff it is! Wouldn’t you really like to c-um? It would only take a little squeeze… Yes, go on…I don’t mind…you’ll feel so much better…that’s right…show me what a big boy you are, yes? Show me how much spunk you have… Then afterwards I’ll give you a big cuddle, and we’ll have a pizza and we can sit down and watch…”
Whether it was the mention of the pizza…but suddenly Bobby stuck his left hand in his mouth, and with the right grabbed his erection. His body jolted into orgasm. “Ahhhh! Auntie! I’m… I’m c-umming!!”
“Bobby! Good boy!” Nicole concentrated on holding her phone still, whilst at the same time shouting encouragement. “That’s it – squeeze it gently. Get all that lovely c-um out, every drop. Try to stand up straight, please… Just a little while longer… It’ll soon be over… That’s so clever! My best little boot boy! Don’t move – auntie will come and carry you inside. Good boy!”
Bobby had subsided, gasping, He dropped to his knees on the tree-stump. Nicole approached, still filming. She zoomed in on his face, then panned down to his hot pants. Sperm was bubbling out under the frills, and trickling down his thighs. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he might fall off the stump. Nicole put her phone on the grass, picked him up in her arms, and carried him inside. She lay him on the sofa, put a blanket over him, and kissed him softly on the cheek. She knelt down and whispered in his ear.
“Bobby, darling, that was amazing. I always knew you were a sweet boy, but before today I didn’t realise how incredibly sexy you are too. And it turns out, despite your shyness, that you really love your new hot pants. Don’t worry, darling, you're going to have plenty of opportunities to show off your outfit and your assets. All the ladies are going to love you. So rest for now, and tomorrow we’ll make our plans for your future...”
Then she rose, and returned to the garden to collect her phone.
-
Chapter 7.
Bobby slept for an hour or so, then woke for long enough to eat a couple of slices of pizza. But he was still exhausted, and Nicole took his hand and led him up to bed, where, after being put in his pyjamas, he fell asleep again almost at once.
Later that evening, after washing his pants, shirt and socks, Nicole had conversations with Lavinia and Sarah. Then she went up to Bobby’s room, laid out his clean uniform by the side of his bed, with a nice fluffy towel, gently stroked his head, and left him to sleep – perchance to dream.
And dream he did, so that when he awoke at six in the morning, for a few moments he was unable to unravel dreams and reality, and wondered whether the events of the previous day had actually happened. But his mind soon cleared, and then he saw his uniform, and groaned.
After showering he put his pyjamas back on, and made his way downstairs. Nicole was in the kitchen, drinking tea. She was dressed in black: a tight black turtle-neck, short black leather jacket, shiny black leggings, and black high-heled ankle-boots with silver buckles.
“Good morning.”
“Auntie…?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Where are my normal clothes?”
“Put away for today. I left your uniform by your bed. Didn’t you see it?”
He sighed. “Yes… But…”
“Put it on, please. Your training’s not finished till the end of this week. And remember to put your pants on properly this time.”
“Please…”
“Come here. Now!”
He moved reluctantly to her side. She pushed her chair away from the kitchen table, and took him by one wrist.
“You don’t seem to have learnt the first lesson yet. I’m not going to argue with you. You must do what I say without question. Otherwise…”
With a sudden movement, she pulled him across her lap and yanked down his pyjama bottoms.
“Auntie! No!”
She administered three sharp smacks. They didn’t hurt him much, but the lesson was clear. She pushed him upright, and seeing him beginning to tear up, gave him a hug.
“Don’t cry, darling. But we agreed, remember? You look so handsome in your uniform – so please do as I ask and put it on. Now, please.”
He wiped his eyes. “Yes, auntie,” he said quietly. And he scurried off upstairs.
He reappeared a few minutes later looking very smart. His trainers were neatly laced, his cap was on straight, and he had obviously put his pants on correctly, though she noted that today there was no erection, probably explained by the expression of anxiety on his face. He hadn’t put his gloves on, but he had tucked them into the waistband of his pants. Nicole smiled encouragingly.
“Good boy. That’s better. Now, relax. Don’t worry, I won’t be expecting a performance like yesterday’s. No, today we’re going to have a quiet day, and I want you to remain as calm as possible. Look, I got you a little accessory. Well, actually it was free when I bought your hot pants. Here.”
She took a pink tissue packet from her pocket.
“Open it.”
Bobby tote open the paper. Inside was a red rubber collar, a couple of inches wide, with a silver buckle at the front, from which dangled a little round bell. Each side of the buckle, in silver letters, were the words “BOOT BOY”.
Bobby stared at it.
“Let me put it on for you.”
She fastened it around his neck. It was pretty, and he didn’t seem to mind at all.
“Thank you, auntie.”
“You’re welcome. You look even cuter now.”
He turned his head back and forth, making the bell tinkle. He laughed. “I’m like a cat, now!” She smiled. She’d thought it would look nice on him, but she’d also wanted him to wear some latex near his face, so he’d be able to smell the perfume all the time. She was sure he was excited by rubber as well as boots. She watched him. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to her the collar was already having an effect.
“I’m also going to let you into a huge secret, which you must promise to keep strictly to yourself. Can you do that?”
“A secret? What sort of…”
“A big one. But it’s vital to your training, and you spend so much time here with me that it would be wrong of me to conceal it any longer.”
She stood up. “Follow me.”
She led Bobby to the room under the stairs, and unlocked the door. She switched on the light, took his hand, and led him between piles of boxes to a second door at the back.
Bobby’s eyes widened. This was exciting. “Wow…a secret door. Where does it lead?”
“You’ll see.” She opened the door and switched on the chandeliers. “Be careful. These stairs are steep. Hold onto the handrail. I’ll go first.”
Bobby descended the stairs, staring into the cavernous gloom in disbelief. He had been right all the time! The house did have a cellar – but what a cellar!
They arrived at the foot of the stairs.
“Auntie – what – what is this place?”
“Well, Bobby, I’m a sort of therapist – as I think you may have realised. I try to help people fulfil their natural potential – just as I’m trying to help you. This place is my, er, consulting-room. I see naughty boys and girls here, and work to put them back on a better path. Now, come over here, and I’ll explain what we’re going to do today.”
Bobby followed her towards the golden throne, gleaming dully in the darkness.
“Can I come down here sometimes to play? Could I bring Arthur down here?”
Nicole grinned. “We’ll see. Now…”
She switched on the floodlight. The throne and it surroundings sprang out of the darkness.
“Wow!! Is that real gold? What are all those whips and things? What’s in that big cupboard?” He spotted the glint of steel bars further along the wall. “And what’s that? Is that like…a prison cell?”
“Don’t worry about that. But you can open the cupboard and choose me a pair of boots.”
Gingerly, he went to the cupboard and opened one door. He gasped.
“Auntie!”
“Now you see why I need a boot boy. Choose a pair. Go on. Any pair you like.”
“Can I?”
“I’ve said so. Choose a pair for me to wear.”
It took him some time, examining each pair carefully, but eventually he pulled out a pair of yellow leather thigh boots with high block heels.
“I’ve never seen boots like this anywhere!”
“I should hope not. They’re custom-made.”
She kicked off her ankle boots, unzipped the thigh boots, and slipped her feet into them.
“Right. Now you can zip them up for me.”
Bobby squatted down and tugged at one heavy zip. It was quite stiff, more so because as he pulled it up it became clear the boots fitted her closely, the soft leather tautening around her strong legs. By the time he’d got to the top of the first boot, high on Nicole’s thigh, he could feel the pressure building in his pants, partly due to the task, partly perhaps because his nostrils were full of the scent of warm latex from his new collar. By the time he had zipped up the second, his erection was pressing hard against his tummy, and he was breathing hard.
“Have you finished? You’ll have to polish up your technique, boot boy. I don’t have all day, you know. But first you have to polish up my boots. You’ll find creams and brushes and cloths in the bottom of the cupboard. Put your gloves on, please. Right - off you go.”
She turned and took her seat on the throne. Bobby hurried to get the equipment, and soon he was kneeling at her feet, hands trembling as he unscrewed the lid of a jar. Nicole looked at him approvingly. Any rebelliousness he harboured simply seemed to evaporate when he was wearing his rubber hot pants, and he became submissive and eager to please. She remembered the previous afternoon. Yes, that seemed to be the key. That and the sight of a pair of well-booted female legs. If so, he was not going to be that difficult to manipulate.
“Right, Bobby. This is an exercise in self-control. I can see you’re excited, but that is something you’re just going to have to get used to as a professional boot-boy. You’re always going to be aroused when cleaning a lady’s boots - especially if she’s wearing them at the time. So you need to learn to keep your feelings under control, however aroused you feel. By that I mean, no playing with yourself – not even the slightest touch – no squirming, no moaning, no rude thoughts. Just concentrate on your work. Understand?”
“Y-yes, miss…”
She liked that “miss”. He really was getting the idea.
“So stop trembling and do your job.”
As he worked, it seemed to Nicole that he actually began to focus totally on the job in hand, making sure he anointed every inch and polishing with great care. True, the higher up he legs he got the more flushed he became and the heavier his breathing. At one point when he was high on her thigh there was a minor crisis when she felt the bulge in his pants momentarily brush her shin. He gasped, and for a moment she feared the worst… But he recovered himself, and finished the job. He sat back on his haunches.
“Well done, Bobby! You did it! Are you feeling okay?”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah. I did it, didn’t I miss?”
“You did. Look, I know it’s asking a lot. But you’ll find it’ll become easier with practice. And…well, I guess occasionally – very occasionally – you may need to, er, release the pressure. If you’re good, and learn to control yourself, I might – I just might – help you with that. No promises, but you’re definitely heading in the right direction. Don’t let up. Train hard and pay attention, and you may be able to earn yourself a treat now and then. Today I’m afraid the payment is only going to be monetary.
“Thank you, miss!” He didn’t quite understand what she was saying – what “treat”? - but he didn’t want to press her, so he held his tongue.
“Okay. Let’s go back up.”
Bobby was peering into the gloom.
“No, don’t get too curious. You’ll see more of this place in due time.” She smiled. “I’ll keep these on today. I have a couple of friends coming round for coffee, and I want to show them what a good job you’ve done.”
“Friends? Coming here?”
“That’s your second task. Greet my friends politely in your uniform, serve them coffee and cake – I made a chocolate one last night while you were sleeping – and answer their questions. Problem?”
“In…my uniform?”
“Of course. Did you think you’d only be working for me?”
Bobby looked terrified. Nicole put her arm around him and gave him a hug. “You know Lavinia and Sarah. They’re good friends and they like you a lot. They’ll be here about eleven. Please be nice to them… For me?”
-
Chapter 8.
As eleven o’clock neared, Bobby became more and more anxious. Nicole had to reassure him continually that there was nothing to worry about. He was so nervous that, to her disappointment, his erection shrank away to nothing again! Just when she had wanted to impress her friends! So she sat him on her lap, ostensibly to comfort him, but the combination of feeling the leather thigh-boots against his own thighs, her perfume, her cheek next to his, and her hand resting on his leg, soon restored the status quo, and by the time there was a knock at the door he was back to his normal fully-tumescent self!
“Open the door to my friends, Bobby, please.”
“Must I, miss?” (That satisfying “miss” was becoming the norm, Nicole noted with satisfaction.)
“Yes, dear, you must. It’s mainly you they’ve come to see.”
He quickly combed his tousled hair with his fingers – how sweet! Thought Nicole – and made his way to the front door. She heard the greetings.
“Good morning, er… Miss Sarah, Miss Lavinia. Please come in. My aunt’s in the kitchen.”
“Is that you, Bobby? You look so smart! Goodness!” That was Sarah. Her words were followed by the sound of a kiss.
“Bobby! I don’t know if you remember me.”
“Of course, Miss Lavinia. You and auntie took me to the fair in the park last year.”
“But you’ve grown so much! You’re such a big boy now.” (This was said with particular emphasis.) “And what a cute outfit! Is this your boot boy uniform?”
“Yes…”
“Have you put it on just for us?”
“No… I was just cleaning auntie’s boots…”
“But you must be proud of it. I bet you like showing it off to everyone…”
By now they had arrived in the kitchen.
“Hi girls. Thanks for coming over. Actually, apart from me, you’re the first to see Bobby in his uniform. Do you like it?”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” enthused Lavinia. Bobby blushed and looked at the floor. “Don’t be shy, Bobby! You look amazing! Don’t show everyone, will you? Or all the ladies are going to be after you.”
At this Bobby gave a little pleased smile, Nicole noticed. So…he was amenable to praise and even flattery, then. She could use that to overcome his embarrassment. She took her cue.
“I know, Lavvy. Don’t tell him that, though. I was hoping to keep him to myself. Look what a great job he’s done on these!”
“Wow, they’re pretty special, Nicole,” smiled Sarah. “Did you really polish them, Bobby? Yes? Well you’ve done a super job!”
“Yes, you really have,” added Lavinia. “Niccy, you can’t keep him to yourself. No way! Bobby, wouldn’t you like to come and help me sometimes? How much is this skinflint paying you for your services? I’ll double it!”
Bobby was enjoying this. He laughed, shyly, and shifted from one foot to the other. He had relaxed and quickly lost his self-consciousness. He liked his aunt’s friends.
Lavinia advanced and ruffled his hair – then knelt, placed a hand on his hip, and stroked the smooth latex. Nicole saw her steal and glance at his erection, and bite her lip. Then she looked up into his face.
“Bobby? Say you’ll come to mine soon. I’ll get you a new uniform even better than this – though this is beautiful, it’s true… I love your collar, too.”
“Auntie only gave that to me this morning.”
“Oh, she spoils you, I can see.
She used the compliments to justify further stroking of his flank. He squirmed a little under all the attention, making tip of his erection slide sideways and inch or two, then back again. Lavinia saw it move, and took a deep breath. She was sure she could feel the warmth radiating from it, a few inches from her nose. It was her turn to blush. Quickly she got to her feet. She exchanged meaningful glances with Sarah.
Nicole decided it was time to talk.
“Bobby dear. could you make us some coffee, and cut up the cake. We’ll be in the garden. Call us when it’s ready.”
“It’s all right, auntie. I’ll bring it out on a tray.”
“Would you? That’s kind of you. No hurry. We need to catch up. We’ll go sit in the gazebo.”
The ladies went out into the garden. Nicole had a circular gazebo, with a round table and chairs. No-one spoke till they were seated.
“Phew!” said Lavinia. “He’s pretty hot, Niccy. He’s grown so much since I last saw him – in every sense of the word.”
“How on earth did you get him into that uniform?” asked Sarah. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his you-know-what. I noticed you made sure you got a good eyeful too, Lavinia!”
“It wasn’t easy at first. Of course he resisted, and I had to give him a little smack. But once he has it on he becomes a different boy. He’s got a boot fetish, all right, but a rubber fetish too, it seems. Once you get him into rubber pants he becomes pliable and obedient. Today it was easy, and I reckon after a week or two he’ll want to wear them all the time.”
“Do you think so?”
“After last night I do.”
“You said something about that when we spoke earlier,” frowned Sarah. “What exactly happened then?”
Nicole produced her phone. “Have a look at this. It’s long, so you can fast forward to the end.”
The ladies watched Bobby’s performance on the tree-stump open-mouthed. “Oh my god,” was the only comment, from Lavinia. When it had finished, she looked up at Nicole. “What a display! I can’t believe he did that all by himself!”
“That’s the cutest thing I ever seen!” cried Sarah. “So naughty, but so innocent as well!”
“I know. Of course I encouraged him, but I think he really enjoyed being watched.”
“You know what?” said Sarah. “Having seen that, and having seen how he behaved this morning, I really think he loves showing off so much he’d do just about anything to get our attention. Don’t you?”
“Absolutely. So let’s give him all the encouragement we can.”
“So what about my idea?”
“Idea?”
“Ladies in Boots! Let’s form a club!”
“Hey, Sarah, that’s a great idea! Let’s, Niccy.”
“All right. We can share him.”
“Bagsy me first!” cried Lavinia.
“What do you want him for, Lavvy?”
“I told you. I need a maid.”
“I don’t think he’d go for that. Dressing up as a boot boy is one thing, dressing up as a girl? I don’t think so. He may be an innocent, but I think he knows exactly why we find him so attractive in those little rubber pants. He’s not stupid.”
“I agree,” said Sarah. “Did you see the way he was flaunting himself indoors? And when Lavvy knelt down, I swear he pushed his thing closer to her face. Rude little scamp.”
“Well, if we did dress him as your maid, Lavvy, he’d have to have very pretty panties and a nice short skirt so he could show them off.”
“Agreed . And talking of my maid, I wonder where he is,” said Lavinia. “It’s been a while. Do you think he’s all right?”
“Shh. Here he comes,” whispered Sarah.
Bobby appeared from the kitchen door, carrying a large tray laden with three mugs of coffee, a milk jug, and three plates of cake with three forks.
“Oh, that so nice of you,” crowed Lavinia, as he put the tray down on the table.
“Thank you Bobby,” said Nicole, happy he was being so polite and helpful.
“Oh, Bobby,” remarked Sarah. “You’ve got chocolate icing on your glove. Be careful not to get it on your uniform, won’t you.”
Bobby stood back and looked at his right glove. “Oh, I didn’t realise…”
The three ladies spotted it simultaneously. His hot pants. His erection looked bigger than ever. And at the swollen head, the pink latex was smeared and fingermarked with chocolate icing!
They stared. There was silence for a moment, then Nicole spoke.
“Bobby! What have you been doing in there? Well?”
“I… I… Nothing…really…”
He tried to cover himself with his hand, but only succeeded in making the mess worse.
“Stay here and don’t move. I’ll get a cloth.”
“Let me,” said Sarah, jumping up. She hurried into the kitchen, and returned with a warm damp cloth.
“Stand still, Bobby. We’ll soon clean you up.”
He stood there red-faced, holding his sticky hand up, while Sarah prepared to wipe his pants. Whether she realised the possible consequences was a question that remained unanswered. She always protested her innocence, and blamed the outcome on Bobby’s self-inflicted arousal. She wrapped one arm around Bobby’s waist, and began to wipe him in firm, regular upward strokes from the base of his pen-is to the tip. In reliving the episode, it was generally agreed amongst the ladies that it had been the fifth stroke that was crucial. At that point Bobby emitted a cry of surprise, and the next moment his whole body was convulsed with a massive climax. His knees buckled, his little bell tinkled furiously, and had Sarah not held onto him tightly he would certainly have collapsed. The remarkable thing was that, maybe through her innocence about male ejaculation, she seemed not to notice what was happening, and even as Bobby was in the throes of orgasm, continued to run the cloth up the length of the shaft several more times, until a particularly violent jet of sperm spurted out from the waistband of his pants, and dribbled down onto her hand. Only then did she stop and look at him.
“Bobby? What’s happening? Are you all right? Oh dear, was that my fault? I’m so sorry.”
She supported him gently and helped him lie down on the gazebo floor, where he lay gasping and whimpering for some minutes before he recovered enough to be helped inside by his aunt. Sarah looked at Lavinia in shock.
“How did that happen? It was all so sudden…”
Lavinia looked back with a wry smile. “Yeah, right, Sarah. A complete surprise, eh?”
“Looks like a repeat of yesterday…”
“With a little assistance from you, darling. Anyway, a boy who c-ums in such a spectacular fashion is a boy who can provide us with endless entertainment, right?”
Sarah grinned. “Right, Lavvy. A boy just made for Ladies in Boots.”
-
Chapter 9.
Nicole returned in five minutes.
“Is he all right?” asked Lavinia, anxiously.
“Asleep. Not surprised after that. Really, Sarah. You just couldn’t resist it, could you? Well I hope you’re satisfied, now you’ve seen it for yourself.”
Sarah said nothing, but opened her eyes wide in a pathetic attempt to look innocent.
“Yes, that was very naughty of you,” said Lavinia. “But wow, when he popped…” She turned to Nicole. “I agree with Sarah. Let’s have that club. And let me be the first to borrow him.”
Nicole looked doubtful.
“Come on, Nicole! You can’t keep him all for yourself. His boot training must nearly be over. Let me have him next weekend. I’ll be so nice to him…promise.”
“Go on Niccy, let her,” added Sarah. She’ll let us visit. It won’t make any difference.
“Oh, all right. I’ll have to let Rosemary know he’ll be spending the weekend with his auntie Lavinia, though. She won’t mind. She likes to think he’s meeting lots of new people. Okay. I agree. Let’s start our club.”
The decision having been made, the ladies gathered round the table to make plans, consuming their cake and coffee whilst they did so.
“Okay,” said Lavinia, briskly, “I still say I want him as my maid. So I’ll find one of those off-the-peg costumes. I’ve been looking online – there’s loads.”
“I know what you’re talking about. I’ve had clients arrive dressed up like that. But they’re so naff. Why not go the whole hog? Get him a latex one. That would drive him wild.”
“I guess it would… But where…”
“My supplier has piles of them, in all sizes. I can get you one in a couple of days. And you’ll need some panties as well.”
“What about his hot pants?”
“Inappropriate. He’ll need proper girls’ panties. I suggest natural latex, since they won’t be seen…”
“…Most of the time,” added Sarah, with a grin.
“Most of the time. Yes. Frilled legs to match the costume. And I’ll get them to weld in a coc-k band to keep him nice and fizzy. Then there’s shoes… Black patent leather. We can get those from the store. Stockings. Do you want latex, fishnets, or what?”
“Um…”
“I’ll order him some latex ones, anyway. I imagine he’ll appreciate the feeling of the hold-ups gripping the tops of his thighs…”
“Niccy! That’s almost cruel. He’s not one of your clients, you know…”
“Not yet! But if he’s going to wear all these cute outfits, he going to need to learn self-control. The idea is to keep him in a state of arousal for long periods without tipping him over the brink. Once he c-ums, he’s not much good to us. But if we can keep him just on the edge… You know, when he’s in that state he’s so sweet – he becomes all polite and eager to please… And he’ll do just about anything we want. I love him when he’s like that. So this week we’ll have a training session every day. I’ll get him all dressed up in his uniform, I’ll put on some of my sexiest stuff – thigh boots and maybe a latex catsuit – and tease him mercilessly. I’ve even got some face masks made of perforated latex. I’ll make him wear one of those as well. If he surrenders to his perverted desires he’ll get a few strokes of my whip. If he manages to resist temptation, I’ll reward him. Don’t worry, I’m an expert at this! It’s just like training a puppy!”
She took a sip of coffee.
“Do you think you can do it in a week?” asked Lavinia.
“Probably not. Probably more like two or three. But I’ll do it eventually. He’s young, which helps, and once I have him fully trained we’ll be able to do anything we like with him. Put him on a lead and take him for a walk round the park if we like!”
“Oooh, now that would be fun,” grinned Sarah.
“So next weekend…” put in Lavinia. “We should have a meal or something, shouldn’t we? I mean, if he’s going to wait on us…”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Sarah. “Actually it’s my turn to entertain, isn’t it? Why don’t we go round to mine Saturday evening. I’ll cook something nice and Bobby can wait on us. Chrissy’s staying over at her friend’s, so we won’t be disturbed, and we can drink as much as we like.”
“Okay, that sounds great, Sarah. Is that okay by you, Nicole?”
“Fine. Leave the outfit and the training to me. He going back to his mum’s Friday evening, so why don’t we all go for a ride Saturday morning, and then I’ll pick him up for lunch and we’ll head to yours, Lavinia? After lunch we’ll bring out his new outfit, and give him a nice surprise!”
-
Chapter 10.
First thing Monday morning Nicole ordered the maid’s uniform and the stockings. There was a choice of colours, and she chose pink and white. Black and white was too obvious, and the pastel blue looked too much like a nurse’s uniform. She also ordered two sets of stockings and panties, one natural and one pink, and specified the modification to the panties. Also, a pair of frilled pink latex serving gloves. Then she started to plan for the evening.
She had a client at two-thirty, so when he left at four she decided to keep her outfit on. The black hooded and gloved catsuit and vinyl thigh-boots would be perfect for Bobby’s training session, and the short riding-crop hanging from her leather belt would reinforce the message of total obedience.
She had hardly emerged from the basement when Bobby came through the front door. He stopped dead, transfixed.
“A-auntie…you…”
“Yes, I’m ready, darling. How was school?”
“Er…fine, thanks…”
“Good. There’s a snack on the kitchen table. After you’ve eaten, pop upstairs and get your uniform on, please. We’ll have a training session till six, then supper, then homework. Go on…”
While he was eating his snack, she went upstairs and smeared the inside of his hot pants with lubricant. This was going to be a proper test. Fifteen minutes later they were down in the basement. Nicole seated herself on her golden throne.
“Come here, Bobby. Put this on. Don’t flinch - it’s just a face mask. Here, let me…” He leant in on her. She gripped his hips between her knees while she hooked the loops over his ears. “There. Is that nice? You like the smell of latex, don’t you? Now, today we’ll be continuing to work on your self-control. So you like my catsuit, do you? Don’t pretend – you been staring at me ever since you got home. Why don’t you feel how smooth it is? Go on, don’t be shy…”
Bobby reached out his hand.
“Not there! Don’t you dare touch my boobs! My tummy! Honestly, you’re incorrigible! Yes, like that. Do you like that?”
Bobby nodded slowly.
“Okay. Now I want you to shine my boots, starting at the toes and working upwards. Use a cloth and some of that vinyl polish When you’ve done that to my satisfaction, I’ll kneel down, and you will have to polish my catsuit with talc. Use that special microfibre cloth I showed you. Work gently! I don’t want to feel any unnecessary pressure. All clear?”
“But miss…”
“Yes, boy?”
“So… You want me to polish your suit, too?”
“Yes. Didn’t I make myself clear?”
“I mean…all of it?”
“Yes, all of it. Start with my hood, and work downwards. I want to see how far you can get without disgracing yourself.”
Bobby was staring at her in disbelief over the top of the latex mask, his eyes big and frightened. He was trembling slightly, making his bell tinkle faintly..
“Let’s get started then. Really, Bobby, pull yourself together. I want to see those boots gleaming.”
The exercise started promisingly. Bobby knelt on the mat at the foot of the throne and worked diligently on her boots. In half an hour he had finished. The vynil was gleaming.
“Good work, boy. Right, now I’ll kneel on the mat, and you can get to work on my latex.”
She knelt facing the throne and bent her head slightly forward. He began gingerly, polishing slowly with the lightest touch. The hood fitted tight on her head, leaving only her face open. It was a pleasant feeling for her, like a gentle head-massage. He polished around hers ears, and worked down to her neck.. From there he moved onto her shoulders and back. That done, Nicole swivelled round and sat cross-legged, holding out her arms. She looked him straight in the eye. As he worked on her arms and sides his bell was tinkling continuously. Those areas dealt with, Nicole straightened her back and waited for him to continue. He had seemed keen to touch her breasts earlier, but now, feeling a lot less composed, he hesitated.
“Miss…?”
“What are you waiting for?”
He was staring at her jutting breasts. The area around the nipples was made of slightly finer latex, allowing them to protrude provocatively. He looked very nervous. In truth, Nicole was now the one feeling aroused. All her catsuits were manufactured with a small moulded dil-do in the crotch – it helped her stay imaginative whilst at work. She had had a lovely gentle massage, and now the idea of having her breasts stroked, the thought of his hands brushing her erect nipples, was making her wet. Her heart was pounding, wondering whether he was going to be able to continue. She wanted him to, all right.
“I don’t know if I…”
“It’s fine,” she said, with a hint of impatience. “Go on…”
He mustered his courage, gripped the cloth tightly, and reached out. His fingers touched the tip of her right breast. Involuntarily, she gave a little groan. That was the last straw for Bobby. He gasped, cried out, and grabbed his quivering pen-is. The next moment he had collapsed onto her lap, gripped by a shuddering orgasm.
“Damn!” muttered Nicole, under her breath. She waited impatiently for his spasms to subside. Eventually he was able to speak.
“I-I’m r-really s-sorry, Miss Nicole…”
“So you should be, Bobby!” she replied, irritably. Well, today you failed the test. I warned you what would happen, didn’t I? Right. Stand up. Now, bend over and put your hands on the arms of the chair. And don’t move! This is what you’ll get till you learn to behave yourself.”
She wasn’t in the best of moods, so the six strokes of the whip were delivered with some force. The bright red "BOOT BOY" across his bottom provided the perfect target. Poor Bobby yelped like a puppy at each one, then sank to his knees sobbing. Nicole looked own at him disdainfully.
“And if you don’t do any better tomorrow, it’ll be twelve!”
-
Hi hon. I'm enjoying the story. Very hot and nice to read something a little different! Looking forward to the next part :)
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Thanks for your comment, poppy. Much appreciated.
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Chapter 11.
Bobby sat on a puffy cushion to eat his supper that night. He looked so glum, Nicole began to feel sorry for him and not a little guilty. She regretted her selfishness. She had even mentioned the possibility of the occasional treat, and there she was, reverting to habit, and playing the disciplinarian! She had offered him irresistible provocation. How did she expect a feisty boy like him to react?
She sat down next to him and rubbed his back. She was still in her catsuit and boots
“Bobby… I’m really sorry for hitting you so hard. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again – at least, only if you’re very naughty. But I know you were really trying. Sorry. I went too far.”
“Auntie…?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Can you…give me a hug…?”
“Of course…come here…”
She put her arms round him and rested her head on his shoulder. He turned towards her, held her tight, and pressed his face into her neck. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, her breasts pressed against him. Since he showed no signs letting go, she began to get suspicious.
“Bobby! Are you okay?”
She took him by the shoulders and held him back, looking into his face. The sadness had evaporated, replaced by a mischievous grin.
“Why, you… You were enjoying that, weren’t you?”
“Was that one of the treats you promised me?” he asked, cheekily.
“You little fraud! No it was not! It was a motherly hug, because I thought you were sad! A downward glance was enough to tell her how much he had enjoyed their little cuddle.
“Really… What are we going to do with you? And I didn’t promise anything, by the way. I just said if you were good you might get a treat. But I can see your definition of good is different from mine. What I mean by good is that you learn to control your body, without popping off like a firework every time you get excited. If you want to be a successful boot boy, and earn lots of wages, you need to be able to do that. Do you think you can?”
“Yes, auntie, I’m sure I can. Please train me well. I would like to be able to earn real money for once. There’s such a lot of things I’d like to buy, but mummy’s not rich, is she? And I’d like to help her as well.”
“No. she’s not rich, and that’s a very kind thought. Now, for the rest of the week – Bobby, please stop staring at my breasts! And put your hands by your sides! Thank you. Don’t worry, I’m going to go and change shortly.”
“Oh, auntie, you don’t have to on my account!” He seemed quite distressed. “Promise I won’t stare at you any more. And I’ll try much harder from now on.”
Okay, whatever. As I was saying, for the rest of the week we’ll have training every evening, and I hope to see some real improvement by Friday.”
“Oh, you will auntie. You’ll see.”
“I hope so…” But looking at the expression on his face, which was not so much determined as calculating, she suspected he was thinking he could get up to his usual tricks in the three days intervening.
“I’ll be a different boy, I promise.”
“Oh. Really? Well I’m glad you said that. Because in fact you’re going to be a very different boy next weekend.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You’re going to be so different…you won’t even be a boy any more. No. You’ll be a pretty little girl…”
“What…?”
“…in a cute little maid’s outfit. Won’t that be nice?”
“Maid’s outfit? What do you mean?” He stared at her, puzzled and clearly worried.
“Just what I said. I’ve promised Lavinia and Sarah that this weekend you’ll be Lavinia’s little maid, and that you’ll serve us dinner at Sarah’s on Saturday evening. It’ll be just the four of us - Chrissy’s staying at her friend’s house. I’ve ordered you a sweet little outfit which will be here in a day or two. I’m sure you’ll find it a nice change from being my boot boy.
“Y-you’re…serious…”
“Lavinia is so looking forward to it – we all are – and she’s quite happy for you to go on being her maid for as long as you like. It’s a great opportunity to earn some real money.”
“No! I don’t care about the money! I’m not doing it! I don't mind being a boot boy. But I’m not dressing up as a girl! That’s that!”
“You like being a boot boy because you find boots and sexy ladies wearing boots arousing. Well maybe being a maid for a sexy lady will be just as thrilling.”
“I’m not a girl!”
“Oh, Bobby, stop being so conventional. Wait till you see your uniform. I’ll bet you’ll love it!”
He pouted and frowned like a five-year-old. “I won’t. I’m not doing it.”
Nicole couldn’t help laughing. “Oh dear. Well, I’m not going to disappoint my friends. So I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”
He glared at her. “You can’t make me.”
“So you absolutely refuse…?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Then I’ll have to offer them some compensation. They were so looking forward to it. Let me think… Oh! I know what I can do!”
“What?” He looked at her suspiciously.
Nicole picked up her phone, scrolled through the gallery. She was going to keep the first video in reserve for emergencies. The tree-stump show should do the trick.
“I’ll send them this video.” She decided not to mention they’d already seen it. “They’ll enjoy that. I mean, you put on such an amazing performance! Remember?”
She pressed play and held up her phone.
“Stop it! Turn it off!”
“Look! How sweet is that? Sarah will love it!”
Now he started to panic. “No! Auntie, no! Don’t, all right? You mustn’t show it to anyone!”
“Hmm… And I bet Sarah would like to share it with Chrissy too, don’t you? Those two…sometimes they’re more like sisters…”
He actually fell to his knees on the kitchen floor. He was terrified!
“Auntie…miss… Please don’t. You wouldn’t, really. would you…?”
“Oh, but I would. In fact I was sorely tempted on Sunday. Don’t you believe me? Okay. I’ll show you. I’ll do it right now. There… Sarah… Attach video… .”
“No!” He screamed and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t! Okay - I’ll do what you want.”
“Oh, I see. It’s Chrissy you’re really scared of!”
“You don’t know her, auntie! She’s always making fun of me, or being sarcastic in front of her friends. And she’s such a blabbermouth! It’d be all round school. I’d be…totally fu… I mean, finished!”
“But I thought you liked her…”
Bobby turned red, and looked away. “What do you mean…?”
“Sarah told me she thought you had a crush on her…”
“No!” he replied, unconvincingly.
“Hmm. Well there’s nothing wrong with it if you do. Maybe she likes you.”
“She doesn’t. She wouldn’t be so horrible to me if she did.”
“But being horrible sometimes means someone’s interested in you, but they don’t dare show their feelings. If she didn’t like you, she’d just ignore you.”
“Do you think so…?”
“I’m sure. So don’t worry, I promise not to let Sarah have the video. Though I know she’d never show Chrissy. But you do have to agree to be our maid. See how it feels. I bet you’ll get loads of cuddles and kisses…”
He looked at her sideways.
“D’you reckon…?”
“Of course. Really, Bobby, you’re so transparent. I know you’re going to be flirting with my friends all the evening. It makes me quite jealous. So I’ll tell them to keep their hands off you.”
“No, don’t…”
She shook her head despairingly, grabbed him by the arms, dragged him across her lap, and spanked him. He struggled, but not too hard, and took the opportunity to press his erection against her thigh.
“Ugh! Get off!” She pushed him back onto the floor. “Just wait till I get you back downstairs tomorrow. Remember what I told you – twelve strokes next time it happens!”
-
Chapter 12.
Bobby didn’t sleep well that night. He dreamt of going to school and suddenly realising he was dressed in a girl’s school uniform! (If he had known what his actual costume was going to be like, he probably wouldn’t have slept at all.) So when he returned to his aunt’s house that afternoon he was tired and grumpy, all the more so because he had had to turn down a visit to the mall with his mates.
“I came straight home as you told me, auntie,” he sulked. I was s’posed to be going into town with Arthur and Jamie. Thanks very much!”
“Don’t mention it, Bobby. Now upstairs, shower, and into your uniform. Then come straight down. I’ll be waiting.”
“Hmph!”
“And be quick, or I’ll send you out to the corner shop in your uniform. Your jacket arrived today, so you’d look very smart…”
With a grunt somewhere between defiance and submission, he disappeared upstairs. Nicole went into the basement, where, in a screened-off dressing area in one corner, she had laid out her outfit for the evening. It was one she felt comfortable in, one she had attended parties wearing. A tight, short white vest, accentuating her breasts, a short jacket of the finest black leather, black leather fingerless gloves, tiny black leather hot pants over fishnet tights, and very high-heeled leather thigh-boots. She dressed, added a spiked leather choker, a little black lip-gloss, black eye-shadow, and some liberal squirts of some exotic perfume. She tied back her hair, and put a black peaked cap on her head.
She heard the door open and Bobby’s steps descending. She picked up a short riding whip and went to meet him. When he saw her emerge from the dim light he stopped dead in his tracks. Nicole advanced to check his uniform.
“Good. You look smart today, Bobby. And you’ve put your gloves on ready. Excellent!”
She took his bell on his collar between finger and thumb, and led him into the floodlit area around the throne. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out. She pushed him down into a kneeling position in front of the throne, and took her seat. He looked her slowly up and down, as if she were a huge cream bun, and he hadn’t eaten for a week. He licked his lips, more in nervousness than anticipation. Nicole looked at him severely, and stroked his cheek threateningly with the leather flap on the end of her whip.
“The cleaning materials are right there next to you. First, I want my boots gleaming. Then I’m ging to inspect you. Well? Get on with it, boy!”
“Er…y-yes, miss!”
As he worked, his nervousness slowly gave way to arousal. His head was roughly on the level of Nicole’s skimpy leather pants, and he couldn’t resist stealing glances at them, and the little vest, taut over her unrestrained breasts.
“Pay attention to what you’re doing!” she hissed, leaning forward and giving him a gentle slap on the cheek.
“I-I…can’t get at the backs, miss…”
“Right. Move back. Go on. Take your mat with you.”
She climbed off the throne onto the floor, then turned her back to him , parted her legs a little, and leant forward with her hands on the arms.
“Is that better?”
As he worked on the backs of her boots beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and he began to tremble. The higher up her boots he went the closer his face came to her butt. The legs of her hot pants had ridden up at the back, revealing the cheeks of her buttocks and what looked like black satin panties. His little coc-k was rigid, hot and slippery against his tummy. He would have given anything to be allowed to c-um – one gentle squeeze would have done it – but he feared the consequences. She let him suffer for a good long while, before picking up her whip, standing up and turning around to face him.
“That’s enough.” She looked own at him grovelling at her feet. It was a familiar feeling for her, but one that never ceased to give her pleasure. “Stand up.”
He struggled to his feet, his knees aching with having been on them so long.
“Straight. Stand up straight.”
She ran the leather flap down his flank to his knee. “Hmm.” She pushed it in between his knees and flicked it from side to side. “Open… Open your knees, when I tell you!”
He was shaking now. He moved his feet apart slightly. She nodded slowly, and, looking him in the eyes, let the end of the whip travel slowly up the inside of one thigh Reaching his crotch, she allowed it to tickle his balls. Poor Bobby. He could hardly keep still. His vertical erection was straining at the taut latex, visibly twitching from his efforts to keep it under control. His eyes were brimming with tears, sweat glistened on his cheeks, and he was biting his lip. Nicole watched him, amused.
“Good boy. I think you’ve passed your training today. You probably deserve a little treat.”
Bobby stared at her. He had no idea what she meant, but he suspected he was about to get another whipping. So her next move came as something of a surprise. Without changing her stance, she brushed the leather flap up the length of his stiff coc-k, then gave the swollen head a couple of gentle slaps back and forth. The result was spectacular. His mouth fell open, and with a cry of ecstasy he exploded in orgasm. So intense was the pleasure that he almost fainted. Hot sperm flooded his pants, and he quite literally saw stars. He sank back to his knees, grasping at Nicole’s ankles for support, gasping and choking. She smiled. I shouldn’t have done that, she thought. But I couldn’t resist it!
She resumed her throne, watching him recover. After a while he was able to raise himself on hands and knees, and look up at her. He was still breathing hard, and looking a little startled.
“Good. That was a great improvement on yesterday. But you need to keep improving if you’re to be ready for Saturday. Next training session five o’clock tomorrow. But don’t expect any more treats for a while. It will take a lot more dedication than that to earn the next one. Dismissed.”
-
Chapter13.
The next morning, after Bobby had gone off to school, Nicole had a call from her supplier.
“Hi, Nicole, this is Cynthia from Fantastex Designs. Your order’s almost ready, and will ship tomorrow. I’m ringing just to ask if you’d be interested in taking advantage of any of our new modifications – free to our regular customers, of course.”
“Oh…maybe. Do you have something particular in mind?”
“Well, the maid’s uniform comes plain as standard, but you can have an inscription in any colour latex moulded in, and anything up to fifteen characters is free.”
“Hmm… that might be nice… Let me see… Maybe across the chest…no, how about on the hem of the skirt, just above the frilling?”
“No problem.”
“Okay. Let’s go for Bobbi – that’s B-O-B-B-I – in fact, wait a mo – let’s have “Little Maid Bobbi”, shall we? That is fifteen characters, right?”
“Er…yes, that’s right. What colour would you like? And do you want it on the skirt itself or on the white frill band?”
“Oh, let’s have it on the white band, in red letters. So it’ll stand out.”
“Great. We’ll do that. Now I wanted to ask you about the panties…”
“Yes?”
“I can see they have the pen-is loop for a boy, so… Well, we have a simple modification available at no charge. Let me explain.”
“Please do…”
“This idea came from one of our customers, and it’s reported to work quite well. We run a band of fine latex across the inside of the panties at the front, welded into the side seams. In the centre of this band is another loop, about an inch broad, designed to fit over the shaft. Once the pen-is is erect the loop will grip the shaft firmly just underneath the head, so it cannot slip back, and it is held nice and central and the shaft stays perfectly vertical.”
“Ooh, that sounds just what our maid needs!”
“But there’s a further modification. We attach another short strip of latex half way along each side of the band, hanging downwards, and weld the other ends to the insides of the leg bands.”
“Yes… But What does that achieve, exactly?”
“Well, it’s rather fun. You see, as the wearer walks… Let’s say he puts his right leg forward… What happens is the right-hand vertical strip relaxes, but the left hand one, where the leg is back, tautens. As it does son, it pulls the left side of the transverse band down an inch or two, which in turn pulls the pen-is a little to the left. At the next step, the opposite effect happens, and it is pulled to the right. So if the boy is walking around, his pen-is is constantly sliding back and forth, like the pendulum of a metronome! This tends to have a stimulating effect, ensuring the pen-is stays fully tumescent. Very soon the movement becomes self-lubricating, and then…well, we advise that the maid be allowed to be rest at intervals, to avoid…er, any interruptions to service, if you see what I mean.
“Cynthia? How do you dream this stuff up? You really do have a very perverted mind!”
“Me? Well, no Nicole… As I said, this was purely the invention of one of our customers…”
“I don’t believe you. I’ve known you too long. But yes, it sounds ideal for our little maid. I can’t wait to test it out.”
“Oh, I’m so pleased! I’ll get the panties modified straight away. But please, Nicole…”
“Yes?”
“Let us have a full report, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
“I mean, I don’t want you to write a minute-by minute-account… Something like a short video, maybe…? That would be fine…”
Nicole laughed. “I’m sure it would be. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great! Thanks so much, Nicole. I’ll make sure you get everything by Friday morning latest.”
“Don’t forget the stockings.”
“No, they’re ready. Both pairs have little red hearts sprinkled on, just as you like them.”
Thanks, Cynthia. And can you also include a couple of pairs of serving gloves, one pink and one natural, and pink latex collar and bell? Bell on a ring, please, in case we need to attach a lead.”
“Certainly. Would you like the collar frilled and lettered?”
“Oh…yes. Maid Bobbi. Maid one side of the ring and Bobbi the other. Great. I’ll be in touch soon. Bye…”
“Thanks, Nicole, Bye for now!”
Now that sounds interesting, thought Nicole. I’d better go and get his shoes today. I’m going to go for some Mary Janes with heels – just big enough to make him walk like a girl. And tonight I’m going to tease him mercilessly, but no way am I going to let him c-um this time. If he wants to, he can play with himself in bed!
-
Chapter 14.
She was as good as her word. She bought his shoes – two-inch heels seemed about right – and the next two days of training were much more arduous. She wore a simple blue latex catsuit both days, with ankle-boots and short rubber gloves. Instead of using the throne, she had him shackled to the wall by his ankles and wrists, and teased him with her body and her hands, stroking his face and thighs till he was on the brink of orgasm, then leaving him to cool off for fifteen minutes. She repeated this process again and again until he was begging her to let him c-um, and his upper thighs were slick with his secretions. Whenever she thought she might have gone too far she would slap his cheek – she feared a cut of the whip might have the opposite effect to that intended. Both days he went to bed frustrated, but too exhausted to do anything about it.
Friday morning the package from Fantastex arrived. Bobby looked at it suspiciously, but Nicole packed him off to school before opening it. She was debating whether to have a dress rehearsal that evening, but on the whole she thought it would be more fun to keep him in suspense, and only let him see it at the last moment. So she texted him to say that, in view of his improvement, training was cancelled that evening and he could go off and have fun with his friends.
“Thanks, auntie! Home by ten. xx” came the reply. So she invited Lavinia and Sarah round for a drink, and to see Maid Bobbi's outfit. Nicole had left the package unopened. They sat together on the sofa, the package in front of them on the coffee-table.
“Here, Lavvy. It was your idea, so you can have the honour of opening it.”
She needed no further invitation. She tore off the wrapping, and opened the carboard box inside. It contained several smaller packages, each wrapped in tissue. She placed the box on the floor and the largest package on the table. As she unfolded the tissue, the scent of new latex filled their nostrils, and they got their first glimpse of the glossy pink and white creation. Lavinia stood up, picked up the dress, and held it up for them to see. It was made of fine, pale pink latex, gathered at the waist with a band. It had a high round neck and short puff sleeves, the neck with a plain white trim, the sleeves with white frilling. The flared skirt was short – probably short enough to offer the occasional tantalising glimpse of Bobby’s panties – and edged with white latex frilling, with “Little Maid Bobbi” in red on the trim. The dress came with a lightweight cotton apron. Nicole had chosen this alternative to more latex, because she thought the contrast exciting.
“I love the combination latex and fabrics. After all, they’re both natural. Latex and cotton goes so well, and latex and wool, too. So sexy.”
The skirt part of the apron was a few inches shorter than the latex skirt, and both the skirt and the bib were trimmed with lace. The bib was supported by lacy shoulder straps which crossed over at the back and attached to the corners of the apron, which was then tied at the back. The pink latex headband was also trimmed with lace.
“That’s so pretty!” cried Lavinia.
“Let’s see his panties,” said Sarah, excitedly, pulling out another package.
She tore open the tissue and held up one pair – the pink ones.
“Oh, they’re so cute!” cried Lavinia. “So pretty and tiny, bless him!”
“They'll stretch, Lavvy. They’ll fit him perfectly. And with luck they’ll just peep out under his skirt,” said Nicole. “Now. Turn them inside out.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see. This is the latest innovation for naughty boys. Let me show you.”
Sarah and Lavinia watched fascinated as Nicole demonstrated the oscillating mechanism.
“That’s so cool,” gasped Sarah.
“Let’s put him in the natural ones tomorrow, shall we?” suggested Nicole. We may get the chance to watch it in action!”
“Yes, let’s. And these to match.” Sarah had pulled the transparent natural latex stockings with red hearts out of the box.
“Then we’d better give him the matching gloves, too.” Said Nicole.
“And don’t forget this little collar,” added Lavvy, holding it up. Maid Bobbi. And look at all this pretty white frilling!” She shook it gently, making the bell tinkle. “And here’s his headband too. And what’s this? Oh, look – how sweet – they’ve given us a garter as well! He’s going to look such a darling.”
“I hope so. I got him shoes with heels, by the way. It’ll be fun to se him wobbling about.”
“We’re all set then. I can’t wait,” smiled Sarah. “I’ll have to get cooking. If you want to bring some wine, white would be best. I’ve already got champagne in the fridge. What time should we eat?”
“How about we aim for between six and seven?” said Nicole. “But I’ll bring Bobby over in the afternoon and get him ready. Maybe you could take his uniform back with you tonight and lay it out for him. Then maid Bobbi can help us prepare the meal. Shall I bake a cake, Lavvy? He loves chocolate cake, and that might help to take his mind off his role in the proceedings.”
“That would be lovely. I’ll bring wine and strawberries and raspberries and cream and stuff like that. Sarah, tell me if there’s anything else we need.”
-
Chapter 15.
Saturday. Bobby Tucker not happy. Woke late, and stayed in bed until his aunt came to see why he wasn’t up.
“Come on, Bobby. It’s your big day, today.”
“Aunt… I don’t feel well…”
“Let me feel…. Well you don’t have a fever.”
“My tummy’s hurting…”
“That’s because you’re excited about going to Sarah’s and dressing up in your maid’s outfit.”
“No it’s not!”
“Well everyone else is. So get up and have breakfast, quickly. I’ve made pancakes with honey and lemon juice. Don’t let them get cold.”
“Pancakes… Is there anything else to go on them…?”
“Well, only raspberries and ice-cream and chocolate sauce…”
“Okay,” he said, grumpily. “I’m coming. Don’t rush me.”
But he was downstairs and stuffing pancakes with two minutes.
Nicole had cleared the weekend. She had no appointments until Monday. She dressed casually – a black cotton top, black faux leather leggings and the obligatory thigh-boots – vinyl, not too high but enough to keep Bobby in line in case he became rebellious. After breakfast she took him out to buy wine and anything he felt like to eat or drink at Sarah’s. That quietened his objections and made it difficult for him to protest too much. They had a light lunch, and headed off about two-thirty.
Sarah had laid everything out on the bed in the spare bedroom. The spare things – pink panties, stockings and gloves – she popped in a drawer.
“Well, his outfit’s all ready, Lavvy. I just hope we can get him in it.”
“I’m sure Nicole will be able to persuade him.” There was a ring at the bell. “That’s probably them now.”
Sarah opened the door. “Hi Nicole…Bobby. Cheer up, sweetie….”
Bobby was hanging back, looking sulkily at the ground. He was about to make some sarcastic remark, but when he looked up at Sarah he did a double-take. Nicole had suggested that her friends should also dress “a bit sexy” for the occasion, to exploit Bobby’s vulnerabilities. Both Sarah and Lavinia were in their early thirties, and knew how to dress to kill. Sarah was wearing spike-heeled ankle boots, fishnets, and a little figure-hugging black latex dress she had borrowed from Nicole. Her black hair was combed back and pinned in a tight bun. She wore bright red lipstick, a spiked black leather collar, black leather bangles, and her nails were painted black.
“Hello, guys! You’re nice and early. Welcome!”
Bobby’s heart sank. It was impossible to defend himself against such a show of feminine power. His first sight of Lavinia was not reassuring, either. She had chosen a more traditional outfit, but one no less intimidating. She was sitting on the sofa, wearing her newest pair of beige riding breeches with a tan leather belt, blonde hair loose, a plain white shirt with rolled-up sleeves knotted above her waist, and tall, gleaming rubber riding-boots, moulded in the Spanish style with high tops, with little silver spurs. A riding whip and a pair of fine latex riding gloves lay on the coffee-table in front of her. She smiled a dangerous-looking smile.
“Nicole…Bobby…this is so exciting, isn’t it. Bobby – I should call you Bobbi with an ‘i’ now you’re going to be my maid, shouldn’t I? Bobbi then – your clever aunt has got you such a pretty uniform! I bet you can’t wait to see it – I certainly can’t.”
Bobby made a sour expression, but didn’t dare to protest. In any case, he was a little distracted by Lavinia’s riding-boots, trying to work out if they were really made of rubber, since he, something of a boot expert, had never seen any quite like that before – professional Spanish boots were normally made of leather. Lavinia registered his curiosity.
“Do you like my new boots, Bobby? I had them specially made. I somehow prefer rubber boots, don’t you?” She picked up her gloves and slipped them on. “Come and see – come on, don’t be shy!”
With the aid of an encouraging push from Nicole, Bobby approached Lavinia. She patted the sofa next to her.
“Sit with me for a moment.”
He sat, hesitantly, cheeks reddening.
“That’s better. Yes, these are classic Spanish riding boots. Rubber’s so nice and glossy, don’t you agree?
Without warning she threw one leg across Bobby’s lap, and waggled it about. He jumped in surprise, but she made sure to keep him pinned in his seat.
“Feel how nice and smooth they are. Go on!”
She raised her left knee a little so that her blunt spur dug into his flank. It felt like a threat, so he tentatively ran his fingers over the rubber. The scent of warm rubber filled his nostrils. He breathed deeply. He could feel his boyhood stiffening and his cheeks burning. His hands were trembling slightly.
“Don’t be nervous. Tell me what you think. Here…”
She shifted sideways and swung the other leg across his lap. He felt as if he was choking. He fought against his arousal. Lavinia straightened her left leg, and her boot descended on Bobby’s erection. Even through the thick rubber she could feel it pressing against her calf. She knew then that he was theirs to command.
“I think he’d better get changed, don’t you girls?”
“The sooner the better.”
“As he’s technically my maid, I’ll go with him and help.” She swung her legs back onto the floor and stood up. “Follow me, Bobby.” She took his hand and helped him up, then led him out of the room. Nicole and Sarah looked at each other as they heard their steps retreating upstairs.
“Looks like Lavinia’s taken charge,” remarked Sarah.
“Yes. He never had a chance, did he?”
Upstirs, Lavinia was implacable. She ordered Bobby to take off everything, turning her back to save his blushes.
“Now, panties on first, young man. I believe you know how to…arrange yourself.”
Reluctantly, Bobby pulled on the little panties. “Miss Lavinia… Why must I be a maid…?”
“Because.”
“Yes, but why? I mean I’m still doing my boot boy training.”
“You need to be versatile. Cleaning boots is one thing. But you need to learn how to serve ladies in other ways too. That’s why I asked if you could be my little maid this weekend. Don’t worry, I’m going to be a fair and caring mistress.”
“Will you?”
“Of course, darling. It’s not a punishment, you know. And you’ll be paid properly. And if you do a good job…”
“Yes?”
“You can be my boot boy too, and polish my lovely new boots. Would you like that?”
It was an attractive prospect. “Y-yes… If you want...”
“Good. Then we have a deal. Now, are those panties on properly?”
“Well…they’re different… They have another loop thing…”
“I know. Can you see where that goes?”
“Er…I’m not sure…”
“Shall I help?”
Without waiting for a reply, Lavinia turned round and walked up to him. He was standing holding open the front of his panties uncertainly. She didn’t hesitate.
“That’s it – hold them open while I attend to this.”
She reached down, and before he could move, took his erection in one cool gloved hands, and held open the upper loop with the other. In an instant she had slipped it over the shaft and let is snap firmly in place.
“There. Nice and neat just like a maid needs to be. Now, stockings next, I think…”
On went his stockings, the double-thickness tops gripping the tops of his thighs. Then the garter on his left leg, and his new shoes. As he stood there, balancing on his heels, Lavinia put his latex dress over his head, threaded through his arms and then his head, fastened on his cotton apron, his bell collar and his headband, and stood back to appraise him.
“You look gorgeous, Bobbi!” she exclaimed. “Now, put on your gloves. Pretty, aren’t they? Little hearts to match your stockings. Then before we let the others see you, I think a little makeup would be in order.”
Bobby was too overwhelmed to demur. In any case, the smell and feeling of the latex uniform was making him heady and a little dazed. She sat him down at the dressing table, and applied powder, a little mascara, peach lip gloss, and a little blusher to make his cheeks rosy like a cute little girl’s. Her proximity, her own scent, and the thrilling feeling of her touch on his face, induced a sort of euphoria, both mental and physical. He wondered vaguely how he could feel so happy all dressed up as a little maid, while at the same time the double grip on his erect pen-is was immersing him in a pool of sensual pleasure. He watched his face in the mirror, fascinated by his transformation from a sulky boy into a pretty, amiable little girl. Once she had done his makeup, Lavinia briefly removed his headband to brush his hair, then took his hand again.
“Shall we go and show the others? They’re going to gobsmacked, Bobbi!”
Any reluctance he had felt has evaporated. He jumped up – and gasped.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh…no, it’s nothing…”
The sudden movement had had the effect of tightening the second loop. He could feel it gripping the shaft just beneath the bulging head. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he realised that now his erection was going to be permanent. And as he followed Lavinia to the door and along the corridor, he also discovered that at every step, it shifted provocatively back and forth against his tummy. He took little steps, but even then it was being cheekily twitched at every stride.
They stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Girls? Are you ready? Bobbi the maid is coming down to show you her uniform.”
“We’re ready, darling! Send her down!” Sarah called back.
-
The ladies sure know how to tease the boy, wonder what they have in store for him in the coming chapters
-
Wow! looks like Bobby/Bobbi is going to be a very busy Maid and Boot Boy. Cannot wait for next chapters. Thanks for an excellent story.
-
Chapter 16.
“Off you go, Bobbi,” whispered Lavinia. “Show them what you’ve got.”
They descended and she walked Bobby in front of her into the living-room. Sarah and Nicole were seated on the sofa, leaning forward expectantly. As Bobby appeared, they gasped with surprise, and gave him a round of applause.
“You look fantastic!” cried Sarah.
Even Nicole was impressed. “Bobby…I mean Bobbi… You make such a pretty girl. Come and stand in front of us. I want a snap of your first appearance.”
“Me too,” echoed Sarah.
Phones were soon clicking, and Bobby was beginning to feel uncomfortable, torn between embarrassment and excitement. Half of him – no, not half – maybe a quarter or a fifth – couldn’t resist the celebrity. That portion of his psyche soaked up the attention and adulation like a sponge – and as it did so, it grew and grew. Nicole could almost see it happening, but she was careful not show it, and wary of doing anything to encourage it. She knew that for it to have any permanence, it had to bloom all by itself. She comported herself accordingly.
“Bobbi? What do you think of your uniform? I wasn’t sure you were going to like it… What about those stockings – are they comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you, auntie. They’re fine…” And he added, “I like them, actually… I like how I can see my legs through them… It’s like I have little hearts all over my skin!”
A feeling of mild euphoria was gradually stealing over him. He was vulnerable to all the compliments, especially when delivered by three glamorous well-dressed women who seemed unable to take their eyes of him. He knew he must look something special, and he wanted to learn to enjoy such an unwonted experience. As time went by, the sensual pleasure generated by his clothes, the smell of the latex, the grip of the collar around his neck, its frills tickling his ears, the stocking-tops around his thighs, and the bands around his throbbing pen-is, overwhelmed any shyness he had felt earlier. His awkwardness had evaporated, and he was beginning to play up to the role he had been given, just as he had done in Nicole's garden.
“Auntie…? Where did you get my uniform?”
Nicole noted that “my”.
“From a special shop where they sell all sorts of beautiful clothes, darling.”
“Auntie…? Could you take me there one day?”
The ladies looked at each other with raised eyebrows.
“Of course, darling… I’m sure there’s lots more pretty things there that you’d like.”
“Do you like your panties?” hazarded Lavinia.
“My panties?” Bobby’s eyes widened.
“Are they comfortable?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Could we…see them?” added Sarah.
In reply, Bobby actually did a twirl, so his little skirt flew up, giving them a glimpse of his tiny frilly transparent panties. He stopped, put his hand to his mouth, and giggled shyly.
Sarah wasn’t going to let this opportunity go. “Oh, you little tease! Come on – show us properly!”
To their utter amazement, Bobby did a perfect naughty little girl act, right there in front of them! He put his head to one side as if considering the request, and pressed one index finger against his cheek. Then with a cheeky “okay”, he grabbed the hem of his skirt and pulled it up!
It was at that moment they realised he was up for anything. Those panties left nothing to the imagination. The ladies were treated to an eyeful of one of Bobby’s most impressive erections, like a well-filled sausage sheathed in taut transparent latex. Every now and then it twitched with excitement. The upper band was gripping the top of the shaft firmly, holding back the foreskin, so that the swollen head was clearly outlined under the thin rubber.
Lavinia gasped. They all stared. Bobby, now quite unabashed, and obviously relishing their astonishment, poked out his tongue and did a little rude dance, deliberately trying to provoke them.
“Bobbi! That’s naughty!” cried Sarah, in mock disapproval, hoping to spur him on to even greater indignities. In response, he began to trot around the room in circles, still holding up his skirt, chanting “mer, mer, mi, mer, mer,” just like a five-year-old!
“Look!” whispered Lavinia. “It works!”
And indeed, as he moved, his erection was flicking back and forth in time with his steps. Nicole realised she needed to call a halt quickly.
“Bobbi! Stop that at once!” The voice of authority had the desired effect. “Stop showing off and come here.”
He returned to his original position, still absent-mindedly holding up his skirt. He was already lubricating freely. She realised she needed to take a stand before things got out of control.
“Now, that’s enough, young lady! You’re not here to show off, you’re here as our maid. So you’d better start behaving or…” She leant forward and gave him a smart slap on his thigh. “Understand?”
Bobby’s face fell. “Yes, auntie…”
“And you address us as “miss” at all times! Remember you’re a servant!”
“Yes, er…miss…”
“That’s better. Now, bring us three champagne glasses and the bottle from the fridge. Quickly, please.”
He scurried off to the kitchen. Sarah turned to Nicole.
“It’s like that uniform has completely changed his personality,” she whispered.
“Yes, I was shocked,” said Lavinia. “He’s lost all his self-consciousness. And he actually seems to be enjoying himself!”
Nicole smiled. “I’ve seen it all before, ladies. While he in that aroused state he’ll do and be virtually anything, however humiliating. The combination of his own outfit and the way we’re dressed will keep him compliant. He’s under a spell, all his fetishes coming together at once. We’ll have the upper hand as long as he stays like that. But whatever happens, he mustn’t be allowed to have an orgasm. That would bring him down to earth, like waking from a dream, or coming down from a high. We need to keep him wired. Shh, He’s coming back.”
“I-I’ve brought the champagne and the glasses, miss.”
“Thank you, Bobbi. Just put them down here. Then go and stand by the door in case we need something else.” Bobby obediently retired to the door and stood with his hands clasped in front of him.
“Hands behind your back, Bobbi!”
“Y-yes miss.”
“We’re going to relax and have a drink. The, since it’s your first day, we’ll give you some basic maid training.”
“Yes,” added Sarah. “And we’ll teach you how to curtsey. Maids should always curtsey to their owners after carrying out an instruction. Isn’t that right, Lavinia?”
“That’s just one of the things. But there’s a lot more than that to being a good maid – which is why I bought you this.” She picked up her bag and pulled out a little paperback book. She held it up. Bobby squinted at the title: “Everything a Maid Should Know”.
“Here. Take it.”
“Th-thank you, miss…”
“Learn everything in there. I’ll be testing you on it. Your behaviour should be governed by the three basic principles of neatness, obedience, and diligence. But you will still need to know the correct etiquette for any situation.”
“Yes,” smiled Nicole. “By the time we’re finished, you’ll be good enough to do it professionally. You’ll be able to get a job with some wealthy family, and have a whole wardrobe full of uniforms for all occasions. Would you like that?”
“Do you think I could…”
“I do – if you listen and learn, and keep yourself under strict control.”
“I’ll try, Miss Nicole – I really will!”
-
Chapter 17.
It was early to start drinking, especially considering the number of bottles in Sarah’s fridge, but the ladies were feeling relaxed and in the mood for fun. Having disposed of the first bottle in short order, they summoned Bobby back to the coffee table and ordered him to do a couple of turns.
“The skirt’s a perfect length, Nicole,” said Sarah, in a professional tone, “just short enough to give little tantalising glimpses of his panties. Bobbi? Turn around and bow. Yes, bow.”
The back of his skirt lifted to reveal his latex-encased bottom. They collapsed in silent laughter.
“Again.”
“Oh, that’s so…pretty,” gasped Lavinia, stifling her mirth. “Do it once more, Bobbi,” she added, picking up her phone.
After they had amused themselves sufficiently, Nicole decided it was time for curtsey training. They must have spent the best part of an hour instructing him in the niceties, but at the end he was performing a very passable curtsey, holding the hem of his skirt gracefully between fingers and thumbs and bending his legs and lowering his head with great elegance.
“You’re a natural, Bobbi,” smiled Sarah, checking the videos on her phone. “This is the best one. I’ll delete the rest. My phone’s already full of Bobbi vids.”
“Would you like that one I showed you, girls?” asked Nicole, completely forgetting her promise to Bobby. “You know…”
“Oh, that one. Yes please!” said Lavinia, enthusiastically.
Bobby wondered vaguely what “that” one was, but at that moment, in a haze of pleasure and conceit, he didn’t really care. Soon both Nicole’s friends were in possession of the video of his spectacular climax in her back garden. Sarah allowed herself a little preview.
“God, Niccy, this is so hot. It’s so sweet the way he completely loses control. Honestly, boys of that age…”
“Well I did egg him on, it’s true. But yes, he’s just naturally sexy. And a bit of a show-off, right?” She lowered her voice. “I mean, look at him now…”
Bobby was executing lower and lower curtsies, smiling what he imagined was an innocent girlish smile. He was actually becoming quite graceful, except that the lower the curtsey the higher he was inclined to raise his little skirt. The ladies admired him for a few minutes. Then Lavinia had a new suggestion.
“Shall we test his deportment now? Bobbi? Stand up straight. Good. Now, first of all, stand as still as you can. Pretend you’re waiting at table.” She rose, went into the kitchen, and came back with two plastic plates. She gave one to him to hold, on which she had placed an egg, and the other she balanced on his head.
“Right. Now stand very still, and see how long you can keep the egg on the plate and the plate on your head.”
The plate was supported by his headband and his curly thatch. It showed no signs of slipping off, and he hadn’t dropped the egg, so Lavinia went to the next stage.
“Now walk around the room.”
Bobby did as he was instructed, proceeding gingerly and biting his lower lip with concentration. He completed the circuit without incident.
“Keep going. Carry on till we tell you to stop.”
If it hadn’t been for the relentless back and forth of his erection as he walked, Bobby was sure he could have completed several more circuits without accident. But the regular movement of the slippery head, squashed between the latex and his tummy, was too distracting. Trying to ignore that, while at the same time watching the egg rolling around on the plate, and keeping his head up, proved beyond his powers, and as he was turning back towards his audience on the sofa the egg hopped off the plate and landed with a splotch on the floor, and a moment later the plate on his head followed.
“Oh, Bobbi! You were doing so well!” cried Sarah. “Never mind. Go get a cloth from the kitchen, clean up the mess like a good little maid, and you can try again.”
As he was wiping the floor, Nicole took the opportunity to make a suggestion. It was something she had been thinking about ever since Lavinia had had the idea of his being a maid.
“You know, I was serious just now. Bobbi really could be a professional maid. Maids are coming back into fashion with wealthy families – it’s the ultimate status symbol. I was looking online, and I’ve found a maid school that offers an intensive two-day training course. He could learn the basics over a weekend, and then maybe get a part-time job. All right, I know he wouldn’t be as experienced as most, but I think his cuteness could compensate for that.”
“Funny you should say that, Niccy,” said Lavinia. “Yesterday I picked up a copy of Lady and Home magazine in the dentist - you know how they like to have all those posh mags lying around. Well, in the classifieds there a section for “domestic help”, and there are ladies wanting maids, some full-time and some part-time. I’m sure we could find him a position.”
“Let’s go for it!” said Sarah.
“Let’s discuss it over dinner, shall we?” said Nicole. “I’m starving. And there are delicious smells coming from the kitchen, Sarah…”
-
Chapter 18.
Sarah had cooked a chicken and vegetable casserole with cider and spices. The ladies ate at the kitchen table, whilst Bobby was allowed to eat in the lounge and watch television, once he had waited on them. Their discussion of Bobby’s future, enhanced by quantities of wine, became more and more lurid as the meal wore on. In light of his increasing compliance, it had begun to dawn on them that they could do whatever they wanted with him. Sarah had her phone on the table, scrolling though maid training websites.
“Here’s one… Let’s see, this is… Yes, that’s only a few miles from here. What the hell, we could book him in here and now. It’s three hundred for the weekend, with accommodation Saturday night. What do you think?”
“Let’s do it,” agreed Nicole. “He’s mine at the weekends anyway, so he can’t get out of it. It can be a little surprise! Lavinia?”
“Ooh, yes. Imagine how cute he’ll be fully trained. But make sure he memorises the book until then. I mean, wouldn’t it be amazing if this works out? We could invite friends round – imagine their faces when our little hot latex maid serves them coffee!”
“Yeah, that would be fun, all right,” grinned Nicole. “And I’m going to continue his boot-boy training, so we’ll have a fully-trained maid and a dedicated boot-boy, all rolled into one. I bet a lot of those women who advertise for maids would love that. They all ride, those types. Just imagine the fun we could have farming him out, even if it were only to our friends.”
“Ladies in Boots might get a few more members,” laughed Sarah. “But seriously, if he was fully trained, it would be a pity to keep him to ourselves. If he decides to make a career of it, he’ll need to get used to working for anyone willing to pay.”
“Yes, I agree. We shouldn’t be selfish. He’ll probably love every minute, anyway, ” laughed Lavinia.
After dinner they broke open another bottle of champagne.
“Did you see how hot and bothered he was getting doing his circuits?” whispered Lavinia. “His poor little sausage must have been driving him crazy!”
“I know,” said Sarah, delighted. “When he’s finished let’s take him for a brisk walk round the garden, shall we?” And she collapsed in a snort of laughter.
“Yes, let’s!” cried Lavinia. “Pity we don’t have a lead to put him on…”
“Bring your riding whip,” smiled Nicole. “That’ll be just as effective. But that reminds me….”
“Yes?”
“I’ve just ordered some new accessories for his boot-boy training. It was going to be a surprise for you, but…”
“What accessories?”
“Okay, well…” Nicole had an evil glint in her eye. “There’s some new hot pants, right? But as well as all the, you know, training loops, they come with a lead. So the pants are nice bright red latex, but in the crotch there’s a tiny reinforced hole. The lead is a metre long, very thin red leather. It comes with a tiny harness – two leather collars attached to one side of a flat plastic disc about an inch across, with a metal stud on the other side. So… First you buckle the leather collars around the pen-is, one behind the balls, one in front. Then on go the pants, and the stud is pushed through the hole. The leash has a metal socket which clips over the stud. Get the idea? So your subject can be led around wherever you please. Any objections, one sharp tug lets him know his place!”
“That’s cool!” exclaimed Lavinia.
“And the other end of the leash is fitted with a spring-locking metal ring, in case you need to tether him up somewhere – outside a coffee-shop, maybe, while you relax with an Americano!”
“Brilliant!”
“And I ordered another pair, too. These only have the lower loop, but they’re fitted with a short frontal tube aperture an inch long to support the erection.”
Lavinia gasped. “What? You mean… How rude!”
“Not at all. They’re primarily intended for ladies with rubber boots – like you – who require the first-class cleaning service.”
“First class…?”
“That is when the boot boy supplies the cleaning fluids himself. It’s the ultimate, not only in terms of the quality and effectiveness of the product, but also the total subservience and self-effacement of the operative. I was hoping you might consider trying it next weekend.”
Lavinia flushed. “What…? Me…?”
“Yes – you.”
“Oh, go on, Lavvy! You have to! I need to see this!” cried Sarah.
Lavinia was actually embarrassed.
“I know you will, anyway,” laughed Nicole. “Once you’ve thought about it.”
But Lavinia was keen to change the subject. “Look, it’s such a lovely evening. Let’s all go into the garden now, shall we?”
So they took the bottle and their glasses, collected Bobby, and headed to the back door.
But in her inebriated state, Sarah unfortunately left her phone on the table.
-
Chapter 19.
Sarah’s daughter, Chrissy, was staying over at her friend Kaitlyn’s house. She would be there all Sunday as well, and they had been at a loss as to what to do the next day, until Kaitlyn’s mother made a suggestion.
“What about ice-skating? You haven’t done that for ages.”
“Hey, yeah, that’s not a bad idea. What do you think, Chrissy?”
“Great! But I don’t have my skates.”
“You can probably hire some…”
“No. Whenever I’ve done that they always hurt my feet. Anyway, it’s gross…”
“I don’t mind running you back, if you like. It’s only ten minutes,” offered Kaitlyn’s mother.
“Really? Would you, Mrs Dawson?”
“Of course. We can go after supper.”
“I’ll ring mum and tell her… Come on, mum, pick up…”
But Sarah was in the garden clutching her glass of wine and screaming with laughter at the sight of Lavinia chasing Bobby around swishing her whip behind him.
Chrissy tried several more times, but eventually gave up. Half an hour later Mrs Dawson stopped the car outside Sarah’s house, and Chrissy and Kaitlyn dashed up the front path. Chrissy rang the bell, but there was no reply.
“Huh. She's got friends round. They’re either in the garden, or pissed.”
“Or both,” added Kaitlyn, presciently.
Chrissy unlocked the door and they entered. Leaving Kaitlyn standing in the hall, she ran upstairs to get her skates. Kaitlyn peeped into the kitchen and saw the abandoned plates and bottles. She could hear faint screams and laughter from the back.
Chrissy returned clutching her boots.
“I think they’re out the back, Chrissy. Is that your mum’s phone on the kitchen table?”
“Yes! Typical. Let me have a look….” She entered and picked up the phone. She entered her mother’s pin. “There we go – all my missed calls.”
“Okay. Let’s go – my mum’s waiting.”
“Okay. Hey…wait a minute… What’s this? What are these? That looks like…?”
She gasped, and stared open-mouthed.
“Chrissy, come on. We need to go.”
“You go. I’ll be right there. Go on. I’ll only be a minute.”
Chrissy had found the cache of videos and photos. She didn’t stop to think what it meant. She bluetoothed the whole lot to herself, her hands shaking, partly with excitement, partly with anxiety should the revellers out back decide to return. She had just finished when she heard the back door open. She slid out of the kitchen, and closed the front door noiselessly behind her. Soon she was in the car heading back to Kaitlyn’s.
“What was that all about? Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?”
“Tell you later, K. I’m not sure myself yet.”
When the ladies returned, Sarah found the missed calls on her phone. She rang her daughter at once.
“Chrissy. Sorry I missed your calls. Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes, mum. It was nothing. Just wanted to ask if K could come round one evening this week, that’s all.”
“You know she can. Any time. Why would you need to ring me about that?”
“Okay. That’s fine. Thanks, mum!”
Sarah looked puzzled for a moment, but her thoughts soon returned to more interesting matters.
“So, Bobbi. You’re coming to Lavinia’s next weekend, yes? I hope so. I think she’ll have a little surprise for you…”
-
Wonderful story. Looking forward to the next chapter!
-
Chapter 20.
All Chrissy had seen on her mum’s phone was a couple of photos. But it was enough to make her realise this was something she needed to have. The boy in the pictures - the boy wearing a latex maid outfit - was without the shadow of doubt Bobby Tucker from her class! She knew him well - or so she had thought – and she also knew he fancied her. She had always thought him quite good-looking – but playing hard-to-get was one of her favourite pastimes. Now it looked like…well, she would soon find out, but it looked like…unknown to everyone…he could be…(oh, please let him be)…a raving pervert!
She was mentally hugging herself for her quick wits. She couldn’t suppress a short laugh of triumph.
“What’s so funny?” asked Kaitlyn.
“I can’t say,” she whispered back. I think I might have made a discovery - a fuc-king brilliant discovery… But I’m not sure yet. Wait till bedtime.”
She waited until they were both ensconced in Kaitlyn’s bedroom. Only then did she take out her phone.
“I got all this stuff from my mum’s phone.” She brought up the last photo. “Look. Do you know who this is?”
Kaitlyn was transfixed. “What…why…? That’s Bobby Tucker! Why is he…dressed like that?”
“I don’t know. K! He’s a proper little French maid! In latex! What does that say… “Little Maid Bobbi”? What the f…? I can’t believe what I’m seeing!”
“Me neither! He’s got everything! Look at those sexy stockings…and gloves! And a frilled collar with a bell, and a headband…the lot!”
“Look, there’s more! And a video! What’s he doing…? Oh, my god, he’s… I don’t believe it!”
“Showing off his panties! They’re rubber, too! And…transparent! You can see…everything!”
“Oh my god… It’s completely….!”
“I know! Half way up his tummy…”
“What a pervert!”
“Yes. Totally! And look! He’s even got makeup and lipstick and everything. He looks like a little sex doll! Why does your mum have all this stuff on her phone…?”
“I dunno. My mum must be a pervert too… And her friends… And there’s more… another video… This one’s different, I think… Yes… fuc-k, what’s he wearing now…?”
“What does that say on his shirt? “Boot Boy”? Why… Look – he’s in an even worse state here! Those hot pants don’t leave anything… What’s he doing now?”
“Showing off! He’s, like, flaunting himself! He’s…oh my god, is he really…?”
“Shit! He’s doing it! He really is, Chrissy! This is really…”
“Disgusting! It is! He actually is a real pervert!” she said, with a whoop of delight. She paused. “I think…oh my god, this is so gross… I think…he’s going to do it….”
“Yeah… Oh, I hope he does. That would be…”
“The icing on the cake?”
They both collapsed with mirth.
“Look, Chrissy! Look! He is…!”
They had reached the climax of the video. On his tree-stump, Bobby was in the grip of a violent orgasm. For the best part of a minute the girls were speechless.
“What the… What’s going on…?” said Kaitlyn, staring at Chrissy. “And how is your mum….?”
“I have no idea, K. I know my mum’s best friends with Bobby’s aunt…what’s her name…? Oh, yeah, Nicole something. She’s got a bit of a dodgy reputation.”
“Dodgy? How?”
“Well, she dresses sort of kinky, and no-one knows where she gets her money from, if you know what I mean…”
Another silence.
“So…what are we going to do…?
Chrissy pondered for a minute. “For the moment, nothing. Except watch these videos a few more times!” she laughed. “They’re fuc-king gold dust, whenever we decide to use them.”
“Yeah. We could blackmail him easy…”
“But so far no-one knows we’ve got this stuff. I’ll download it onto a flash drive and hide it. Then we’ll investigate and find out exactly what’s going on.”
“You could just ask your mum…”
“No way. We don’t want anyone to know that we know. We’ll wait and use it when the time’s right. Meanwhile we should get to know Master Tucker a bit better…”
“Definitely!”
-
Chapter 21.
Bobby was due to be at his mother’s until Thursday evening, but Nicole wasn’t going to let him off so easily. Before she took him home that weekend she had an unpleasant surprise for him.
“Bobby? Are you being a good boy these days?”
“A…good boy?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Remember we’re going to Lavinia’s Friday. You’re going to need to be fresh and frisky. Which is why I’m going to fit you with this…”
She held up a little plastic chastity device with a built-in lock. He knew exactly what it was.
“Auntie…! No!”
“Bobby? Yes!” She pulled a pair of rubber gloves out of her pocket and drew them on. He backed away, but it was to no avail.
“Shall I send your video to Chrissy? I’m sure she would like…”
“No! Look, I promise not to…”
“Sorry. That’s not good enough. I know how you get carried away. If you’re lying in bed, and your mind drifts to something exciting… Lavinia’s new boots, for instance… Then…”
He glared at her.
“Goodness! Did the mere mention of them…? Right. Come here now. Let’s get this on before you think of anything else!”
Bobby was rather taken aback when, on the Tuesday following, Chrissy approached him at school. He had tried chatting her up several times, and been rebuffed. He had given up on her. But suddenly, and for no apparent reason, her attitude seemed to have changed.
“Hi Bobby. How are you?”
“Me…? Er, okay, yeah…”
“I was just saying to Kaitlyn the other day that you’re pretty good at maths. You seemed to know all about that calculus stuff. Me and K just can’t get it.”
Bobby blinked and tried to look casual. “Oh…that? Yeah, I guess I don’t really have a problem… It’s really quite simple, y’know…”
Chrissy looked sad. “Probably for you… I wish we could get the hang of it…”
“Well… you know…if I can help…”
“Ooh, no, really Bobby. That’s too kind. I’m sure you’re much too busy to waste your time on us…”
Bobby’s face lit up. “Of course not, Chrissy. Don’t be silly. Anytime… I could come round to yours…”
“Would you really? Oh, you’re such a good friend!” She put her hand on his arm. “But… could we come to yours? My mum’s so busy in the evenings these days…”
“Course! No problem!” He had realised it might be embarrassing being there with Chrissy’s mum, especially after the last weekend. “Er…how about this week?”
“Great!”
“Why don’t you come back with me one evening. I’m at my mum’s today and tomorrow, then from Thursday and over the weekend I’m at my aunt’s.”
Thanks for the information, thought Chrissy.
“Oh, let’s do it at your aunt’s, shall we? I’ve seen her, but I’ve never actually been introduced. I’ve always been out or at school when she’s called. She and my mum seem to get on really well. She seems really cool.”
“Oh yeah, she is…”
“How about Friday?”
“Friday? Oh, er, well…I’m not sure… I mean, I think we’re going to stay overnight with her friend…”
“Her friend?”
“Oh, yeah… Lavinia, I think her name is…”
“Lavinia? She’s one of my mum’s best friends, too. How funny!”
“Oh…really? Yeah, well, anyway…so what about Thursday?”
“Great! It’s a date! We’ll come back with you Thursday. Look forward to it.”
Bobby liked that “it’s a date” – and immediately started fantasizing about his future relationship with Chrissy. “Feels like my luck has maybe changed at last,” he murmured. “Except for this thing!” He touched the hard little tube containing his poor helpless boyhood. “Well, I guess it’ll be off in a few days. In the meantime I’m gonna make sure I’ll be the best teacher Chrissy’s ever had! Pity Kaitlyn has to be there, but… I guess I’ll get to impress both of them…”
-
Chapter 22.
Meanwhile, Nicole had had a phone call from Cynthia at Fantastex.
“Hi Nicole. How are you?”
“Hi Cynthia. Fine. You?”
“Yeah. Just finishing off your order. Lucky boy who’s going to wear these! Just wanted to check about accessories. Any built-in butt plugs?”
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that… No, It may be a bit soon…”
“Sure? We can add something very mild at no extra cost. Help him concentrate…”
“Mild?”
“Little egg-on-a-stalk type. He’ll hardly feel it. The egg is rubber-covered steel, hollow with a steel ball-bearing inside, which rolls about as he moves. Has an effect like tiny pulses. Gently stimulating.”
“Actually, that sounds interesting. Okay, I’ll go for that.”
“Both pairs?”
“Yes, both.”
“Now the aperture pants come with spare sheaths if required. I’ve ordered size three based on your specs. There’ll be a couple of closed sheaths in case you want to cover the whole pen-is, and a couple of open sheaths. They all be in matching opaque latex.”
“Open sheaths…?”
“Yes, so they’ll need to be slipped over the pen-is before it attains full tumescence. Just apply a little lubricant to the inside. They’re designed so that they’ll fit tightly once it’s erect and help to maintain the erection for long periods. They cover the length of the shaft itself, and they have a lip at the end designed to grip just behind the head so they stay in place.”
“That’s clever. I think we’ll definitely use those.”
“Good. Okay, Nicole, we’ll finish off today, post tomorrow, and you should receive everything by Thursday.”
“Thanks so much, Cynthia. Bye.”
Nicole smiled. “Can’t wait for the weekend,” she said to herself. “Bobby’s going to have such a nice time. His wildest fantasy is at last going to become reality!”
-
Chapter 23.
The next call Nicole received that day was from Bobby.
“Auntie?”
“Yes Bobby?”
“Is it okay if I have a couple of my friends round on Thursday?”
“Of course. Which friends are they?”
“Chrissy and Kaitlyn. They need some help with their maths.”
“Oh! That’s nice! I’d like to meet Chrissy. Sarah’s always going on about how wild she is – but I don’t really believe her. Mothers always get a bit paranoid about their teenage daughters. And who’s Kaitlyn?”
“Oh, just her best friend.”
“And you’re the maths expert, I presume.”
“I’m not an expert… It’s just that they’re hopeless at it.”
“Modest! Well, I look forward to seeing them.”
She put down the phone. Well, well, she thought. All this time and it’s right now Chrissy’s decided to be friendly. I’d better be careful I don’t let anything slip out!
Thursday came, and the three of them arrived at Nicole’s at just before four. Bobby did the introductions, and soon they were seated in the living room being waited on by Nicole. (“It should really be my maid doing this”, she thought, with a suppressed smile.)
As they stuffed sandwiches and carrot cake, Chrissy took a good look around. A big Victorian house. Much too big for one person. Wow – really cool.
“I like your house, Nicole.” (Nicole had insisted on informality.) “It’s amazing!”
“Thank you, Chrissy. Feel free to look around. Do the tour.”
“Does it have a cellar? These places often do.”
Chrissy asked the question in all innocence, but she couldn’t fail to notice the slightly hesitant response.
“Oh…not really. I mean, a little one – it’s just full of old junk.”
She also saw the slightly nervous glance Bobby gave his aunt. She quickly realised that there was something strange here – a skeleton in the…well, not the cupboard, but apparently the cellar. She formed an unconscious resolution to investigate it as soon as she had the opportunity. However, she and Kaitlyn had already agreed to snoop around as much as they could. They felt that Bobby’s aunt must be the key to the strange goings-on they had discovered. So during the course of the evening they made numerous forays into the bedrooms on the pretext of visiting the toilet.
Having ascertained that Nicole’s room was at the top of the stairs, they made a plan. Kaitlyn would engage Nicole in conversation while Chrissy purported to go to the toilet. If either Nicole or Bobby showed any sign of going upstairs, Kaitlyn would be seized with an uncontrollable fit of coughing. In the event, that subterfuge proved unnecessary, and Chrissy had a good three or four minutes exploring Nicole’s room. She found pretty much everything she could have hoped for: a wardrobe full of leather and latex clothing; a chest containing a variety of whips and canes, and carefully-wrapped phallic objects; thigh boots in abundance; and on the desk, a pile of invoices from some company named Fantastex for items described only by abbreviations and serial numbers. Also, a little box of business cards in the name of “Mistress Beatrice”, with a web address and phone number, one of which she slipped into her pocket.
Their second opportunity came just before dinner. They had spent nearly two hours having the principles of calculus explained to them by Bobby. Though not the main purpose of their visit, it turned out that, as well as being bright – he was regarded as something of a swot at school – he was also a good teacher. They learned more in that two hours than their teacher had been able to hammer into them in two months. Chrissy was beginning to see him in a new light. He was definitely attractive, but also useful. He could actually be an ornament to her. Not that she was falling for him – rather thinking of him as a desirable possession for herself and her friend. So they pressed him to show them his room. He agreed, though seeming slightly reluctant.
At first sight his room was not out of the ordinary, though it was decorated in more pastel shades than might have been expected. However, that wasn’t his fault. It must have been his aunt’s taste. It contained the usual display of posters, all dedicated to computer games. Chrissy noted, however, that there seemed to be a theme. Every one featured a firm-breasted heroine clad in some form of tight, shiny fetishistic clothes and…boots! Interesting! Boots seemed to be the preoccupation of both aunt and nephew. It was when Bobby left the room for a minute to go to the toilet that the girls grabbed the opportunity to pry. Kaitlyn knew they only had seconds. She went straight to the chest of drawers, and, like a professional, opened the bottom drawer first. There were the very things they were hoping to find, in two neat little piles. On the left, a folded cotton apron on top of a pink latex maid’s outfit; on the right, his red baseball cap, lying on top of his pink and red hot pants, with the rest of his uniform beneath. She took a quick snap – as “evidence” she said – and when Bobby returned a few seconds later, the girls were sitting side-by-side on the bed, innocently reading a comic.
After dinner the three friends took a stroll around the garden. They explored the back - the girls were seized with a fit of giggles when they saw the tree-stump - then walked along the side of the house towards the front. Chrissy dug Kaitlyn in the ribs as they passed the little locked side door.
“What’s in there, Bobby?” she asked.
“Oh…nothing. Just an old storage room.”
“But isn’t that a bell-push? Why would you want that on a storage room?”
“I dunno… Oh, look. There’s the post van.” Anything to distract them.
Bobby went to meet the postman, who handed him a parcel.
“It’s for auntie. I’ll take it in.”
Chrissy joined him. She was able to catch a glimpse of the name printed on the label. “Fantastex”!
The girls were feeling well satisfied as Nicole drove them home that evening. They had confirmed their suspicions and gathered more evidence. They would continue to monitor Sarah’s phone. And Chrissy was determined find out just who “Mistress Beatrice” was, and to get a look into that mysterious cellar. “Well done, Watson,” she whispered to Kaitlyn as she was dropped off. “Elementary, my dear Holmes,” responded Kaitlyn.
-
Chapter 24.
Bobby had a bad feeling about the parcel, and his fears were confirmed after school the next day. Nicole had thoughtfully waited until he was home. Then she placed it on the kitchen table and invited him to open it.
“Why me? It’s addressed to you.”
“Yes, darling, but everything inside is for you! Your new boot boy pants for the weekend. We’ll have supper early, then you can get dressed here so you’ll be all ready for Aunt Lavinia when we arrive.”
“Auntie…,” he began to whine.
“Now shush, Bobby. Open it and see – I think you’re going to love them!”
Reluctantly, he tore open the package. Inside was a box, and inside that a neatly wrapped parcel of pink paper with red hearts and a red ribbon tied in a bow. Attached to the ribbon was a little heart-shaped card. He opened it. “To Bobby, with love from Fantastex. May all your dreams come true. xx”. He sighed.
“Go on, Bobby. I’m dying to see them myself.”
He tore open the paper. The contents spilled onto the table: two pairs of fine red latex pants with red frills, and two small plastic bags. At first he felt slightly relieved there was no pink. Red was much more masculine. One bag contained a leather ribbon or something rolled up, and some little joined-up black straps; the other what looked like red condoms, but thicker. He turned his attention to the pants.”
“Hope you like the colour, Bobby. And these ones both have centre seams so they fit nice and snug.”
The first looked like his original ones, except for a small hole at the crotch reinforced with black rubber. Wait a minute… There was something hard on the inside. He held them open…and gasped.
“What the fuc-k…? “Auntie? What’s…this…?”
“Bobby, please don’t swear!”
“S-sorry, auntie. But…”
“That is a little anal egg. It promotes good posture and optimises er…physical performance. As you can see, the stalk is attached to the seam. The seam will fit neatly between your buttocks so that the egg will be held firmly in place whatever you do.”
“But…”
“You’ll find it very comfortable, I can assure you. Now, You can wear this pair to travel to Lavinia’s. They come with a clever little lead. I’ll help you with that in a minute. But first, have a look at the other pair. Go on.”
Bobby, now the picture of dismay, picked them up. “What…? What’s this…tube thing?”
“These are the ones you will wear for cleaning Lavinia’s boots.”
“Cleaning Lavinia’s…?”
“Remember those amazing boots? I could tell by the way you were looking at them what you were thinking.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Bobby, there’s no need to pretend.” She ruffled his hair. “I know what you were doing that day you were in my room.” He stared at her like a frightened doe, and turned bright red. She smiled. “It’s okay. You’re going to do the same for Lavinia – but this time she’ll actually be wearing her boots.”
“No… Please, auntie … I couldn’t do that… Aunt Lavinia….”
“Are you embarrassed? Are you afraid she’ll laugh at you? She won’t, I can assure you. It’s obvious she already likes you a lot. You’re her favourite. This will mean everything to her – a total declaration of devotion and loyalty. I know how much you like her, too. Wouldn’t you like to become her personal boot cleaner and maid? She’d pay you in cuddles and kisses as well as money. Think about it. You’ve been presented with the amazing opportunity to pledge yourself to her, body and soul. No boy could hope to receive a greater honour than to be bound in service to such a beautiful, mature woman. You are being offered the chance of a lifetime. Don’t flunk it.”
“I…I… I mean, how…?”
“You will address her as “Miss Lavinia”. You will kneel and bow your head. When she invites you to start… Well, you know what to do. I’ve seen you. Now, for best results, clean one boot at a time. Take your time, as well. I want to see a good thorough job. You must cover the whole surface. Use your hands. Use a toothbrush on the seams. Don’t get it on her clothes – or else! When you’ve done, use a linen cloth – you’ll find some in your kit – and polish till the rubber glows. Got it?”
Bobby looked at her in dismay. He hoped if he looked sad enough she might let him off. But it was to no avail.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, aun… I mean, Miss Nicole.”
“If you mess up… Well, Aunt Lavinia has quite a collection of riding whips…”
-
Chapter 25.
Lavinia was planning to go out riding early Saturday morning, so was keen to get her boots shined the night before. There had been some discussion of who should go with her and who should stay behind to look after Bobby, but it was quickly settled that all three would go, and he would accompany them on his lead. Naturally he was not informed of this decision. Nicole decided to road test it that very evening, and, after Bobby had showered, she removed his device and got him dressed up in his outfit, saving the pants till last. Ignoring his muted protests, she made him step into his pants, strapped the harness onto the base of his pen-is, then pulled them up, pushing the connecting stud through the hole. She pushed his stiffening coc-k through the front loop, snapping it back just under the head, then, turning him round, lubricated the little plug and slid it home. Then she pulled his pants right up, and fiddled with the waist and leg bands to get them even, and attached the leash by pushing it over the projecting stud. Once attached, it couldn’t be removed without a special miniature tool, which she carried in her purse. She made a loop at the other end of the leash, and, standing up, gave it a gentle tug. Bobby’s eyes widened, and he took a step forward.
“Excellent! Now put on your jacket and we’re ready.”
Bobby was looking around frantically for some means of escape.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ve got your other pants here.” She indicated a hold-all next to the front door. “I didn’t forget them.”
“Aunt… Please… Couldn’t we…ah!”
She gave another tug at the leash, slightly harder this time. It had the desired effect, and there were no more complaints. She got her coat and bag, and led him out of the front door. Before getting in the car, she took him for a little perambulation around the front garden. The lead was a great aid. She discovered that by gentle rapid tugging she could make his coc-k vibrate, causing him to skip and dance and make little whimpering sounds. At every step he took he could feel a strange little pulsing, tickling sensation deep inside, making him more aroused. He tried to minimize the effect by squeezing his buttocks together and adopting an upright posture, but all this did was to thrust the head of his oozing pen-is harder against the taut latex pants, making things even worse! By the time they got to the car it was as hard as a newly-picked cuc-umber – though far from cool! His overheated state was not lost on Nicole, who was gratified that both leash and plug seemed to be working together. “I must congratulate Cynthia,” she thought. She put Bobby in the back, and looped her end of the leash around the gearstick, giving it the occasional twitch as she drove along, just to keep him in order. Bobby leaned back to give his swollen member, straining against its rubber skin, some relief. Despite his desperate condition, he dared not even touch it, for fear of an accident and the reprisals which might follow. So he lay there groaning and sitting on his hands.
Meanwhile, Chrissy and Kaitlyn, aka Holmes and Watson, hadn’t been idle. Sarah had arranged for Chrissy to stay over at Kaitlyn’s, saying she was going to see Lavinia, and that they’d be going riding the next day. The girls guessed that something was going on, and went straight from school and secreted themselves in a bus stop opposite Lavinia’s house. They didn’t have to wait long. Nicole’s car arrived. She parked in a space a hundred yards or so from Lavinia’s door. They watched as she got out, the went round to the other side of the car. They could see Bobby’s face. He seemed unwilling to get out, holding onto the door from the inside, until Nicole reached in, grabbed something and gave it a sudden tug. There was a wail, and next moment Bobby had slid out of the car, holding his crotch!
“He’s in his boot boy outfit!” hissed Kaitlyn.
“Yeah. Red pants today,” added Chrissy.
“What are they going to do…?”
Nicole locked the car, and walked briskly towards Lavinia’s house, Bobby trotting and stumbling behind her on his lead, which appeared to be connected to his crotch, which he was still clutching. A couple of passers-by stopped and watched with interest as he was led up the front path. Chrissy and Kaitlyn stared open-mouthed. Nicole rang the bell, and Lavinia opened the door almost immediately. Chrissy caught sight of her mother inside.
“They’re all there! If only we could see what’s going on…”
“We can’t. All we can do is to check your mum’s phone as soon as we get the chance.”
“You’re right. All we can do is to go back and log today's events. What’s the time now? Five forty-five. Right. Let’s go. We have some research to do as well...”
-
Chapter 26.
The girls were heading home on the bus. They were pursuing several lines of investigation. At lunchtime a quick look at the Fantastex website had confirmed their suspicions.
“This is obviously where she gets a lot of her kinky stuff,” said Kaitlyn.
Next they had rung the number of the card, hoping to hear Nicole’s voice. But it was some automated answering service.
“Hello. This is Mistress Beatrice’s appointment line. If you are an existing client, please enter your PIN now to book an appointment. If you are a new client please leave your number after the beep and Mistress Beatrice will call you back as soon as possible.”
That wasn’t much good. Not exactly welcoming. Who wants a call back from a “Mistress Beatrice” right in the middle of a meeting or dinner with a spouse or partner?
“She must be fully-booked already,” remarked Kaitlyn. “Let’s have a look at the website.”
That wasn’t much more helpful. It featured photos of a woman who could easily have been Nicole, but who was encased in latex and vinyl and wearing a latex hood that only showed her eyes and mouth. Also a list of services and pictures of a fully-equipped dungeon.
“That could easily be her,” said Chrissy. “She’s the right build, the eyes look like hers, and I even think I recognise those boots. But I can’t be positive…”
“Imagine if that dungeon’s underneath her house!” whispered Kaitlyn, excitedly. It could easily be.”
“Yeah, it could… Listen, K, why don’t we pay the house another visit? I mean, they’re out, so we could snoop about a bit. If anyone sees us, we can just say we came to visit Bobby.”
“You’re on!”
When they arrived at the house, for the sake of effect, they rang the bell. Then they went round the accessible side to the back garden, past the little door. They pushed that bell too, and heard a faint ringing far away.
“Weird. Spooky even,” remarked Chrissy.
They continued to the back garden. There was nothing helpful, though they did notice several steel rings attached to the walls and to two of the bigger trees. They peeped into the window of the shed – which was locked.
“Nothing there… Wait a minute. What’s that? That thing over in the corner.”
“Let me see,” said Chrissy, climbing on an old bucket. “I see…. fuc-k! I know what it is! It’s a cage! A steel cage.”
“Maybe for a dog or something…?”
“No. Look! See the end? The bars go into a circle! I know what that’s for. It’s for a person. She puts people in there, with their heads sticking out!”
“What for…?”
“Well… you know… I don’t know! So she can…do anything she likes to them!”
“Wow! Is that true?”
“Course. I’ll show you places which sell these things! She a dominatrix, K – there’s no doubt about it!”
Having at last found proof of their suspicions, the girls decided to head back to Kaitlyn’s. But their discoveries were not over. As they made their way back along the side of the house, something glinted from low down on the wall, and caught Kaitlyn’s eye.
“What that?”
“What?”
She dropped to her knees. “Look, there’s a grill here, and there’s something inside…”
There was indeed a steel ventilator grill a few inches above the ground. They peered through. Somewhere out of sight a dim light was burning. There were also several tiny red indicator lights glowing in the darkness. But the gleam Kaitlyn had seen – was the reflection of the light on a row of vertical steel bars! As they became more accustomed to the gloom, more things began to appear – something like a small vaulting horse, the leather top gleaming dully, leather straps hanging down at the sides; racks of leather whips and bamboo canes; shiny chains, ropes… But what surprised them most was the sheer size of the place. A cavernous space, gloomy and dangerous.
“We were right, K,” breathed Chrissy. “So much for that 'little cellar full of old junk'!”
They looked at each other. “Let’s go,” said Kaitlyn, “before someone sees us. We’ve got all the evidence we wanted.”
They jumped up and walked quickly out of the grounds, and headed home on foot; they were too excited to wait for a bus.
“Can you imagine…what goes on down there?”
“I know. I bet she enjoys her work. But she seems so nice…”
“She does. But you wouldn’t stand a chance down there. She’s obviously a professional.”
“Actually, must be quite a fun job…”
“Yeah… There’s a couple of kids I’d like to have in one of those cages…”
“Maybe she’ll sub-let it to you!”
“We could be a double-act!”
“Now that would be fun!”
-
Chapter 27.
As Nicole had expected, the coc-k-lead was a highly effective aid, and obviated the need for any other form of persuasion, such as power boots, whips, and so on. So she had dressed casually, and advised the others to do the same, to lull Bobby into a sense of security. He trotted along obediently behind her, eager to stay on a loose rein, as his aunt would have called it, and was only too happy to get inside Lavinia’s house, where he was relieved to discover she and Sarah were equally casually turned out, in T-shirts and jeans.
They had the whole evening ahead, and had decided to take their time, have some fun, and tease their little pet a bit before putting him to work. While Sarah and Nicole laid the kitchen table for supper, Lavinia decided to give him a tour of the house. Bobby wanted to go to the toilet, so she took the lead locking tool from Nicole and set off upstairs. She unclipped the lead so that he could go to the toilet – with the proviso he put everything back in place – then reattached it and led him to the spare room, where he would be sleeping. Nicole had donated a Fantastex advertising poster bearing an image of a pretty blonde girl wearing a red latex catsuit which Lavinia had stuck on the wall over his bed – “to keep you company during the night”, she said. After that she took him out into the back garden, where they immediately attracted the attention of a middle-aged lady, and a younger one who turned out to be her daughter.
“Hello Lavinia. How are you?”
“Fine, thank you Wendy. Hi Clare. Enjoying the sunshine?”
“Yes. I see you’ve got a little friend.”
Yes. This is Bobby, my best friend’s nephew. Say hi, Bobby.”
Bobby turned bright red. “…hi…”.
“Hello, young man. That’s a very smart outfit you’re wearing. Don’t you think so, Clare?”
“Oh, yeah, mum…super cool! Bobby, I love your little hot pants! And what’s that on your jacket? Ooh! “Boot Boy” Mum, he’s a boot boy! He cleans boots! How cute! Did you choose your uniform all by yourself, darling?”
Bobby squirmed with embarrassment, but he made no reply. His face and ears were burning hot.
“He just a bit shy,” said Lavinia, in as condescending a tone as she could manage. He’s really my friend’s boot boy, but I’m borrowing him for the weekend. She got him the outfit, but yes, he loves it. He’s such a good boy. Do you know he does chores and housework too, and the other day…”
But Bobby, terrified she was going to tell them about his maid persona, interrupted.
“Yeah, I do stuff like that, cos, you know, I, like, I need to earn some money for…things…”
“Oh! So if we wanted, we could hire him…?”
“You’d have to ask Nicole, but I’m sure it would be fine. Maybe you’d like to meet her.”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. I’ll bring her out in a minute. Now Bobby, why don’t you tell Wendy and Clare what you’re going to do this evening?”
Bobby stared at her pleadingly. Was she serious? By way of encouragement, Lavinia gave a couple of tugs at his leash, making him jump. But he kept his mouth firmly shut.
“Go on, Bobby, tell us! Please!” cried Wendy, very much enjoying the game.
Lavinia gave a slightly sharper tug, eliciting a whimper. “Go on, tell them, Bobby!”
“W-what…?”
“You know! What are you going to do for me…? If you don’t tell them, I will.”
Bobby looked at her, frightened as to what she might say. He plucked up courage.
“I… I’m going to… help miss…er, clean her…her boots…” His voice trailed off. The tugs on his lead had restored his pen-is to full tumescence, and he was aware of the two women staring at it with shameless glee. He wanted the earth to open and swallow him up. Or if not that, he wanted to get back indoors as soon as possible.
“Yes, you are, aren’t you? Because today you’re my boot boy.”
Clare was seized with a fit of giggles. Wendy was shaking her head slowly with disbelief.
“Look, would you keep an eye on him while I go get my friend Nicole? Make sure he doesn’t get up to mischief?” The fence was wooden posts with three strand of wire in between. She passed her end of the lead through to Clare, who took it eagerly. “I won’t be a minute.” She retreated in doors, leaving Bobby to the mercy of the neighbours.
Clare took full advantage of the situation. She pulled him close to the fence, wound the lead a couple of times around a fence-post, and pushed the loop over the top. He instinctively grabbed onto the top strand of wire. Clare took full advantage of his vulnerability.
“You’re a lucky boy to have such a gorgeous outfit,” she smiled, tapping the bell on his collar and making it tinkle. “But I like your little shorts best. Can I…?” Without asking permission, she put her hand through the fence and gently stroked his flank. “Feel that, mum. The rubber’s so lovely and smooth…” Bobby could feel her blue-painted nails through the fine latex. He began to tremble uncontrollably. That only served to make her bolder. She began to toy with the leg frills at the front of his thigh, running her finger back and forth, making a soft fluttering sound. Her hand was inches from his splayed-out balls and throbbing erection. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He bit his lip and tried to think of other things. He prayed for Lavinia to return. In fact, she and Nicole and Sarah were watching proceedings from the window of Lavinia’s bedroom upstairs, and enjoying every second of Bobby’s discomfort.
“This is an unexpected bonus,” laughed Sarah.
“Yes,” agreed Nicole. “They seem even more exploitative than us! Maybe we should let them…”
“Borrow him?” said Lavinia. “Yes, why not? I like Wendy. She’d know how to deal with Bobby all right.”
“Well her daughter certainly does,” said Sarah. “Let’s go down and you can introduce us.”
They descended and made their way to the garden. Ignoring Bobby, still tethered like a sacrificial lamb to the fence, the ladies quickly disposed of the introductions and embarked on an indeterminate number of simultaneous conversations, conducted in parallel and at high volume, and interspersed with screams of laughter and whoops of surprise. Bobby stood helplessly by, horrified at the detail – and the volume - with which his most intimate secrets were being dispensed. It was at the moment that his fragile trust in the ladies, which he had been clinging to with vain hope, evaporated at last. Worse, he could detect in the cacophony of voices that plans were being made involving his participation. Confirmation came almost at once. Wendy turned to him, a huge grin on her face.
“So, Bobby. Your aunt says you can come to ours on Sunday. She tells me there’s a lot more to you than meets the eye. Is that right?”
“W-what do you mean…?”
“You’re a maid as well as a boot boy! I would never have guessed, looking at you now… I mean, you’re all boy, aren’t you?” She narrowed her eyes and cast a shrewd glance at his pants. “All five inches of you!”
She apparently thought this remark so amusing that she collapsed with laughter, and had to hold onto her daughter to prevent falling down. Bobby was not amused, and just frowned.
“Wendy and Clare have asked me if you could be their maid on Sunday morning, and I’ve said yes,” said Nicole with a smile. “I’ll pop home and get your uniform later. It’ll be good practice for you.”
Bobby’s eyes widened and he stared at his aunt pleadingly, slowly shaking his head. But she had already turned away. The meeting was breaking up at last. He heard her say something about “boot duties”, Sarah came and released him from the fence, and led him back to the house behind the others. As they went in he heard Clare call to him.
“Bye, Bobby! See you Sunday! I can’t wait!”
-
Chapter 28.
After they came back inside, the women had a brief whispered conversation, which Bobby feared concerned his cleaning duties for the evening, which he would have done anything to avoid. So he tried to divert their attention.
“Auntie? Shall I bring you some wine? Why don’t you all sit down and relax?”
“Oh, that’s a nice thought, sweetie,” smiled Nicole. “Do you want to be Maid Bobbi tonight? Is that why you’re being so attentive?”
“I wouldn’t mind…”
“Yes,” he thought. “Please let me be Maid Bobbi, and forget all about that other stuff…”
Of course the ladies had no intention of altering their plans, but they decided to play along and let him get his hopes up.
“Let’s have a glass of wine and think about what we should do,” said Sarah, sitting down on the sofa.. “Plenty of time, anyway.”
Bobby disappeared into the kitchen, his lead between his legs trailing along the ground. He took a cold bottle of wine from the fridge and put three wine glasses on a tray. He returned to the living room.
They were all seated now, looking at him with big smiles on their faces. He put the tray on the coffee-table and began to unscrew the cap of the wine.
“Where’s your glass, darling?” asked Sarah.
“M-mine?”
“Have a drink with us,” smiled Lavinia. “Don’t be anti-social.”
“Er…okay…”
Hmm. Well, why not? Maybe they’d decided to give him a break. After all, he’d been very obliging up to now, doing pretty much everything demanded of him. Maybe… Maybe they’d decided to make him a full member of the group…a buddy.
He returned with a glass, placed it on the table, took off his cap, and sat down on the floor opposite the ladies. Nicole poured him a generous measure. He grinned, raised his glass to them, and took a gulp. Nice! He really liked it when he got to drink wine. He wasn’t much on beer, but a good white…
It was a very relaxed occasion. The women included him apparently as an equal, and soon they were laughing and chatting about whatever came into their heads. He had drunk three-quarters of his wine when Sarah produced a little bottle from her purse.
“Know what this is? Sparkle-dust!”
“Sparkle-dust?” queried Bobby. “What’s that?”
“Makes your wine fizzy,” said Nicole, “fizzy and exciting. Want to try some?”
“Okay.”
Sarah shook a tiny amount of the blue powder onto a finger-tip, and shook it into Bobby’s wine. Nothing happened.
“It’s not fizzing…”
“Taste it.”
He took a sip and let it lie on his tongue.
“It tickles a bit, that’s all.”
“Oh, never mind. Maybe it’s old. I haven’t used it for a while.” She put the bottle away.
Bobby finished the glass, and they sat around chatting for a few more minutes. He was feeling pleasantly mellow and relaxed, though the lead was feeling tight and uncomfortable.
“Could I have this off, now, auntie?”
“Oh, of course, dear! I’d quite forgotten.” She stood up. “Come with me and I’ll fix it.”
She picked up his cap and led him upstairs to the bedroom. He stood by the bed staring at his new poster while she put on a pair of surgical gloves. She took off his shoes, detached the lead from its stud, slid down his pants and unbuckled the tiny straps. Bobby gave a sigh of relief.
“Does that feel better?”
“Yes, much.”
“Right. Let’s find you some new pants.”
She knelt and riffled through his suitcase. “Maybe the plain ones with pink frills? You won’t mind wearing them indoors, will you? Bobby…?
Not getting an immediate reply, she looked over her shoulder. Bobby, very red in the face, was desperately holding onto an enormous erection, which seemed to have sprung up quite beyond his control. Nicole smiled.
“Bobby! Goodness me! I know you like your poster, but really…”
“I-it’s not the poster, aunt! I don’t know why…”
“Well, don’t worry about it. It’s quite natural, especially as you’ve been so disciplined the last few days. But…well, I don’t think we’re going to get that into your sweet little pink-frilled panties, do you? Fortunately we have the ideal answer…”
She pulled out the second pair of new pants. He saw what she was holding, and took a step back.
“Auntie, no…not those…”
“Nonsense. They’re perfect for a situation like this. Don’t worry. I have a supply on nice opaque condoms, so no-one will be able to see a thing.”
“No…I can’t wear those…please!”
“Well, unless you want to appear before my friends just as you are, I don’t think you have an alternative. Now come here, please!”
She talced them lightly, lubricated the little egg and its stalk, and, kneeling in front of him (while avoiding the engorged member waving next to her face) drew them up his legs. She guided the egg into place - it slipped in easily - and threaded his pen-is through the hole. The short tube extension gripped the base of his pen-is firmly. She adjusted the leg and waist bands until they were level and there were no wrinkles, and stood back. His face was as red as the latex now. His pen-is was at full erection, the glistening scarlet tip peeping out from the stretched foreskin. It stood there quivering and twitching, pointing slightly upwards. She suppressed a smile.
“There. What’s wrong with those? They're ideal... Now let me see…” She rummaged in the suitcase again. “There we are.”
She tore open a gold packet. “Look, it even matches your pants.” A thick red condom, quite opaque. Just in time, as a bead of clear juice was beginning to ooze from the tip. It slid on easily, covering the length of the pen-is right down to the basal tube.
“See? How discreet is that? And when your erection finally subsides, I promise you can put on some plain pants. Deal?”
She had to pinch her thigh to keep from smiling. ‘When it subsides’? Yeah, right. The movement of the bearing in the anal egg would make sure he would stay nice and hard for the foreseeable future.
“Deal, Bobby?”
“But….”
“Deal?”
“Okay, but…”
“Right. Let’s finish off. And please stop looking at that girl.”
“I’m not!”
“Okay. You’re not. Your thing got big like that all of its own accord, right?”
“Yes! I told you…”
“I think we’ll change your socks. Sit on the bed. These would be good…white knee socks will make a nice change. There…trainers on…now stand up and let me see how that looks.”
She pulled his socks up, adjusted his pants again, then his collar and his rubber gloves.
“You can take off your jacket. It might get in the way. Just leave it on the bed. But here, put your cap back on.” She pushed the little red cap with its bright pink lettering firmly down onto his tousled hair. “There – cute as a button.” She stripped off her own gloves. “Okay. Let’s go down and see the others.”
He had no choice but to follow her downstairs. At each step his jutting member bounced slightly, and he felt the tingling vibration of the egg deep inside, keeping him achingly hard. They arrived back in the living-room. As if they already knew what had happened, the ladies showed no particular surprise at his appearance. He glanced at them, but pulled the peak of his cap down and kept his eyes on the ground as much as possible, to hide his burning cheeks. They had opened a second bottle of wine, and a plate of miniature cupcakes had appeared on the table. He noticed Lavinia had discarded her T-shirt and was wearing a crisp white shirt and striped tie. Not only that, but she had put on a velvet riding hat with a little peak and a chin-strap! One hand lay on the arm of the chair, and with the other she held the stem of her wineglass; she was now wearing fine black latex riding-gloves as well.
“Oh, Bobby,” smiled Lavinia. “You’re wearing your special pants. And you’ve changed your socks. Very smart.”
“It doesn’t matter what he wears, he always looks good,” added Sarah. “Come and have some more wine, Bobby – if you’d like.”
He was only too relieved to be able to kneel at the table and hide his erection. Nicole resumed her seat, and out of sight of their eyes he gingerly fingered his throbbing pen-is, wondering why it had got so hard all of a sudden. It must have been the wine.
“Er…no. I’m fine, thank you, auntie Sarah.”
“Have a cupcake, then.”
“Okay, thanks.”
He took one. Chocolate with a swirl of blue icing and sprinkles. He ate it in two bites. It was only then he glanced under the table and saw Lavinia had put on her new riding boots. He feet were crossed casually before her and she was wearing little silver spurs. He gasped, and his pen-is twitched violently. Shit! That was all he needed, as he was feeling right now!
He rose up slightly on his haunches, in pretence of replacing the cupcake wrapper on the plate, just high enough to see that her jeans had been replaced with shiny cream breeches, which looked awfully like they were made of vinyl or latex! He found himself trembling slightly. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He tried to act casually.
“Er…w-what are we doing tomorrow?” he blurted.
“Well I’m going to Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre to compete in the dressage,” said Lavinia. “Are you guys coming too?”
“Of course!” cried Nicole. “Of course we are, darling. We’re your supporters club! We’re not going to miss that. 'Specially if you’re planning to wear those tomorrow.” She nodded towards Lavinia’s breeches and winked. “You can come too, Bobby. It’s great there. They have a really nice café, and it’s a family day so there’ll be stalls and loads of stuff to do.”
Poor Bobby looked horrified.
“Oh, don’t worry, silly. I’m sure that…that thing will have gone down by tomorrow. Hope so, anyway,” she giggled. “Like having a fifth member of the party!”
“Which reminds me…” said Lavinia, slyly, “my boots are in need of their boot boy. I hope he’s not thinking he can evade his duties…?”
“He looks more than ready,” laughed Sarah, half standing and peeping over the table. “There’s no excuse, Bobby. I think it’s time to attend to your mistress…”
-
Chapter 29.
There really was no way out of it. The women shooed him aside while they prepared an armchair for Lavinia. He took a seat as far away as he could and observed proceedings. Lavinia’s breeches looked like fabric, but the way they stretched when she moved… He wondered if she actually wore them to go riding. She noticed him looking at them.
“Do you like them, Bobby?”
“They’re not…rubber?”
“Yes. They look like regular breeches, but they’re latex moulded to look like fabric.”
“Have you ever worn them out?”
“Yes. When it’s wet or muddy.” She gave him an arch smile. Maybe I’ll even wear them tomorrow, to set off my nice shiny boots.”
For some reason Bobby found the idea remarkably exciting. He shivered slightly, and he felt another drop of juice ooze from his pen-is into the teat of the condom. His ears started to burn. But he didn’t know the half of it. Just as well. Nicole herself had been instrumental in obtaining two pairs of latex breeches for Lavinia from Fantastex, these and a second pair in petrol blue. At Lavinia’s request, both pairs were equipped with an internal integral rubber dil-do, of medium length and girth, with a smooth enlarged head and raised ribs, and a small stalked anal egg. Whilst not much interested in men, Lavinia possessed a powerful and somewhat perverted sex drive. She regularly went out riding with groups, usually all female, and she loved the feeling of secretly riding herself into orgasm without the others realising, especially as, in her latex breeches, all eyes were usually on her. At a walk the dil-do just moved gently round and round, back and forth, inside her. At the trot the movement became more pronounced, and if she wanted to feel it actually fuc-king her she would go into a rising trot. Once or twice she had been unable to supress a cry of pleasure as she climaxed, but had managed to explain it away by claiming she was suffering from cramp. She always returned from these rides totally sated – at least for a while – and at peace. Sometimes, reflecting on the day, should wonder if a certain member of the group had realised what was going on. That thought was in itself enough to have her masturbating furiously. She thought of herself as a “secret exhibitionist”, someone her colleagues might be suspicious of without being able to be certain about anything. And now, her latest deviation. She was already excited about the evening’s venture. Her heart was beating fast, and she was having to resist the desire to squirm on her dil-do. Having Bobby on his knees going at her boots had multiple attractions. It would be like having him make love to her, but in a way that she, as a fellow fetishist, was sure would be more to his taste as well as hers. Once he overcame his initial nervousness she was sure he was going to put up an enthusiastic performance; it would be so hot having him down on his knees like her little slave boy; and finally, the whole thing was completely off the wall, and such things always appealed to her.
As for Bobby, he was in a state of panic. This wasn’t happening, was it? But it was. The ladies had pulled forward an armchair and covered it with a wide sheet of natural latex, which extended a metre along the floor in front of it. Lavinia put her glass on the mantlepiece and lowered herself into the chair, her breeches squeaking slightly on the latex sheeting. She placed her hands on the arms and snuggled her well-rounded behind as far back as it would go, so that her boots rested neatly against the front of the chair. Then she looked at Bobby and smiled invitingly.
“I’m ready,” she purred, seductively.
Nicole and Sarah had taken their places on either side of their friend, Nicole on a chair, Sarah sitting cross-legged on the floor, each with her phone at the ready. Sarah, staring brazenly at the plump gleaming sausage projecting from the front of Bobby’s pants, wore such an expression of delighted expectation that he put his hands down to try to hide it. Nicole misinterpreted the gesture.
“Good boy, Bobby. Yes, you can take the condom off now.”
“No, I…”
“Please hurry up. Lavinia’s waiting. Come on!”
He made his way slowly to her chair, looking anywhere but at her, and suc-king his lips between his teeth.
“Come, on, Bobby… Really! On your knees, quickly!”
He sank slowly to his knees. Nicole, impatient, reached out and pulled off the condom by the teat. It came off with a snap, making his pen-is flick back in the opposite direction, sending a little shower of Bobby-juice over Sarah’s jeans, and leaving a string of it hanging from the tip..
“Ooops! Sorry darling!”
She dropped the condom onto the latex sheet. Lavinia was smiling affectionately at him. He was kneeling back on his haunches, his knees just touching the toes of Lavinia’s boots. His could smell the pungent boot rubber. He was trembling, his heart was pounding, and his swollen prick felt as though it would burst. Lavinia leaned forward and took him by the forearms. She slid her hands up to his, and pulled them towards her until they were resting on her thighs. The end of his oozing member was inches from her boots; he was thrusting out his bottom to prevent it actually making contact. Lavinia held his hands tight.
“Kneel upright, darling,” she murmured gently. “Let the tip just brush my boots. Come on, sweetie, don’t be shy. That’s right…a little more… There.”
Bobby gave a gasp as he felt the head make contact with the rubber. It was smooth and cool. He looked down. The string of pre-c-um had attached itself to Lavinia’s right boot, and the head of his pen-is was pressed gently in the furrow between the two.
“Now, darling, I want you to push forward…very gently… See if you can slide it between my boots… There should be a little gap there… That’s it… A little more… Well done!”
Lavinia’s heels and knees were pressed together, but at her calves there was a little gap, just big enough to accommodate the slippery head. As it slipped between the two columns of smooth rubber he caught his breath, and a sudden flow of juice helped to lubricate its passage. Lavinia had let go of his hands and was now stroking his bare arms comfortingly. He gripped the tops of her rubber breeches and tried to master his agitation. He bit his lip, and allowed his coc-k to slide out.
“There, darling….take your time. Now again…?”
He felt dizzy. He hesitated, trying to regulate his breathing. Blinking, he looked up at Lavinia. She was smiling reassuringly. She patted one arm.
“You’re a sweet boy, Bobby. Relax a little, if you can. Don’t feel pressured. Remember it’s only my boots you’re making love to…not me…for the time being, anyway…”
What did that mean? Making love? “S-sorry, Miss Lavinia…” He blinked with embarrassment, and took a deep breath to calm himself. Obediently, he pushed forward again. It slipped in easily, a little further this time, and a spasm of exquisite pleasure ran through his body. He gulped. A third thrust, and a fourth. It took so little effort, and the sensation was breathtaking. Within less than a minute it was as if all his nervousness had evaporated, overwhelmed by sheer sensual bliss. His thrusts became controlled and regular, in and out, in and out, of that smooth, slick cleft. He was lubricating freely now, the steady movement working his juices into a lather, clear juice and white froth trickling down the insides of both boots. He began to lose all his self-consciousness.
“M-miss Lavinia!” he gasped. “Like this? Is this right?”
“Bobby, yes! I knew you could do it. Does that feel all right?”
“Oh, yes, miss! It feels amazing!”
And for me, thought Lavinia, pressing her posterior down onto her dil-do as hard as she could. It was really like he was fuc-king her. She had a nice fat little coc-k in her pussy, and another thrusting desperately at her best boots, its owner hanging onto her thighs for dear life. This was better than ordinary sex by a long way. She watched Bobby’s face intently. His eyes were tight shut, his mouth open in ecstasy – the face of a boy having proper sex for the first time. She knew from what Nicole had told her that for him also, this was the pinnacle of his desire. Fetishism always trumps straight sex – she of all people knew that only too well.
But he mustn’t c-um – not yet, anyway. She wanted it to last as long as possible, and for her to c-um at the same time..
She leant forward and stroked his cheek lingeringly with her hand, touching his lips with her latex-sheathed thumb.
“You’re doing a very good job, Bobby… But I want you to enjoy your work – that’s very important to me, because I want you to go on being my personal boot boy – so please do what is most pleasurable for you, at a pace which is comfortable. Then not only will my boots be well attended to, but you will want to work for me on a regular schedule. I hope you agree with me.”
Bobby stopped his thrusting.
“Oh, yes, Miss Lavinia,” he said excitedly. “I would love to be your permanent boot boy, of course. It would be an honour. Please don’t concern yourself about me – I love working for you so much!”
“I’m so happy to hear that. We should draw up a contract, too. Well, please continue. Please take your time, and by all means be creative!”
Thus encouraged, Bobby resumed his task. Having taken on board Lavinia’s advice, he removed his right hand from her thigh, took hold of his erection, and rubbed the oozing head all over the fronts of her boots, smearing them with his slimy juices!
“Bobby!” admonished Nicole. “That’s disgusting. You’re supposed to be cleaning Lavinia’s boots, not, making a mess of them!”
Bobby, revelling in the feel of the cool, smooth rubber against his overheated coc-k, took no notice. A strange new sensation was creeping over him - a feeling of power and importance, quite different from that a submissive boot boy should feel.
“Oh, he has to mess them up a little first,” said Lavinia sympathetically. Let him have his fun, Niccy.
“Yeah, miss,” gasped Bobby, pulling back the foreskin and slapping his coc-k on the sides of her boots, “I’m just being creative! I’m painting spunk pictures on your boots!”
Sarah covered her mouth and snorted with amusement. Bobby carried on enthusiastically with his occupation, stopping every now and then and biting his lip when he got too excited.
“Wow, he’s really into it,” she thought, refocussing her phone. “What a little pervert! Hmm… The perfect companion for Lavvy!”
After a while he reverted to thrusting into the cleft, holding onto Lavinia’s knees and looking brazenly into her eyes as he did so.
“Look, miss. I’m really fuc-king you properly now. Does it feel nice?”
Lavinia was quite surprised by his impertinence. He seemed much bolder now he was aroused. A bit too much, she thought. He really needed to remember his place. He was her boot boy, not her lover. Nevertheless his behaviour was making her aware of the throbbing of her filled pussy, and pushing her nearer and nearer to orgasm.
By now the latex sheet was slippery with Bobby’s secretions. Lavinia allowed her feet to slide forward a couple of inches and leaned forward to get a better view. She pressed her legs together to thwart his thrusting, and remind him of his duties.
“You’re doing a good job, Bobby. My boots are going to look so good tomorrow when you’ve polished them up and made them nice and shiny.”
“Not gonna polish them up,” grunted Bobby, pulling back and masturbating vigorously. He had lost all his nervousness now, and was feeling annoyed with the women, but also with himself for having been so compliant and subservient. He was feeling empowered and rebellious. How dare they rent him out to the neighbours like that? He determined to get his own back.
“Sorry?” exclaimed Lavinia, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
“Not gonna…” Suddenly he stiffened. “Shit! I’m c-umming!”
In a last-ditch attempt, he thrust forward at Lavinia’s tightly closed, slightly inclined calves. The head made contact, failed to penetrate, and slid precipitately upwards in the lubricated cleft. An instant later an enormous jet of sperm shot from it, splattering Lavinia’s hat, face and shirt! She gave a scream of shock and anger, shut her eyes and turned her head sideways, but before she could react a second jet of milky fluid had decorated her left cheek. Bobby, regaining his presence of mind, grabbed hold of his erupting member and directed the remainder of his sticky c-um onto Lavinia’s boots, smothering them from tops to toes, without much regard for the knees of her breeches. And having milked out the last slimy drops onto her ankles, he collapsed sideways onto the floor, quite exhausted!
Lavinia was furious, not least because he had ruined her own anticipated orgasm, Nicole and Sarah merely gobsmacked. Even they hadn’t escaped a few stray drops – Sarah in particular was trying desperately to wipe blobs of Bobby’s spunk off her jeans.
“Wow! That was a big one!” exclaimed Nicole. She glanced at Lavinia. She was white with anger, more so because she could see a faint smile of satisfaction on Bobby's lips. He lay there, curled up, eyes closed. She glared at him, speechless, until the sperm tricking down the side of her nose reached her lips.
“Ugh!” she cried, hurriedly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Nicole passed her a tissue. She took it and dabbed delicately at her face. “That little brat!” she hissed. Bobby stirred, and sniggered. “Yes, you! You can laugh! I knew it all along. You’re not a proper boot boy. You don’t care about your mistress’s boots. Do you? No, you’re the opposite of a good boot boy – you get off on the very act of defiling them – and me! Did you know you got c-um all over me as well? Well, did you?” Bobby stifled a laugh. “You did! Of course you did! You’re just a horrid, disgusting little masturbator with a boot fixation. Right. Well, In that case, my boy, I’m not going to clean your c-um off my boots – I’ll wear them to the show just as they are, and tell everyone what you did!”
“Lavinia…” began Nicole, doubtfully.
Bobby rolled onto his back and opened his eyes.
“Yeah?” he cried, gleefully, revelling in his new power. “Bet you won’t. You wouldn’t dare!”
“I will! Just you wait and see!”
Nicole and Sarah said nothing, but exchanged nervous glances…
-
Chapter 30
Bobby fell asleep where he was. When the women retired he was sprawled on the carpet, mouth open, still sporting an impressive erection. Lavinia looked scornfully at him.
“Just you wait till tomorrow, young man. It’s agreed then, Niccy – we’ll drop in at yours on the way and get him sorted out.”
“Yes, Lavvy, Don’t worry – I've got something nice for him to wear.” She covered her nephew with a fleecy blanket. “There. He’ll be fine there till he decides to go to bed.”
Neither Lavinia nor Bobby slept well – the former was feeling frustrated and irritated, the latter aroused again and dreaming lurid dreams. He woke up about two in the morning, coc-k throbbing, and decided he would go up to his nice comfy bed. But before he went… He grinned evilly. Lavinia had folded up the latex sheeting, placed it in a corner, and put her soiled boots on it facing the wall.
“She isn’t really going to wear them like that…” mused Bobby. “I don’t believe it. Anyway, the backs are hardly touched… I’ll finish them off!” Whereat he got up, went over and knelt behind the boots. Taking hold of his coc-k between finger and thumb, he began to masturbate slowly, taking evident pleasure from each retraction of the foreskin, and daubing his prec-um onto the rubber. In less than two minutes his climax overtook him, and with a cute little “oh, gosh!” he directed spurt after spurt of thick c-um onto the upper part of Lavinia’s boots, whence in oozed and trickled slowly down to the heels.
His pleasure having subsided, he admired for a moment his latest masterpiece, gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, stood up, and made his way upstairs to bed.
He feel asleep again at once, and, it seemed, was awoken almost as quickly. But it was seven o’clock, and Lavinia was standing over him already fully attired in her riding gear – black jacket and all, though as yet no boots, but…yes! including her latex breeches. He sat up quickly.
“Are you going? Are you really wearing those?”
“I told you, didn’t I? Now get up and get ready.”
“Ready…?”
“I told you. You’re coming with us.”
“But…”
She was holding her whip. She whacked it across his body under the duvet, and though he felt nothing, he got the message, and jumped out of bed.
“Wear what you like. Breakfast is on the table. We leave in half an hour.” She was about to leave, but she hesitated. “Is it my imagination, or in the night did you… mess with my boots again?”
He froze. His expression was enough answer.
“I see. You really are a little spunk machine, aren’t you? Well, you’re going to need all you’ve got, today.”
What could she mean? Anyway, better get going. Any apprehensiveness he was feeling was swept aside by curiosity. He couldn’t believe she was going to go through with this. What would the spectators make of it? He laughed incredulously, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and hurried down to breakfast.
They took Nicole’s car, Lavinia in front, her boots in a big plastic bag with her other stuff in the boot. For the time being she wore brown jodhpur boots. The show started at ten, with the dressage at eleven, and she was going to save her new boots for that. They headed for Nicole’s first.
“Hey, auntie… Pitt’s Wood’s that way…”
“I know, dear. I need to pop in home first. We have plenty of time.”
They pulled up outside the house and all the women got out. Bobby remained in the back seat of the car.
“Come out, darling…”
“Why, auntie? I’m tired.”
“Come on. We need some advice on clothes.”
“Oh, can’t you decide for yourselves?” he moaned.
“No. Your opinion is important. Now come on.”
He sighed, but climbed out and followed them in. Nicole led them upstairs. On her bed was a big cardboard box, recently opened. They gathered round.
“Now,” said Nicole, “this is an outfit I’d had in mind for some time. It only arrived a couple of days ago, so tell me what you think. What do you think, Bobby?”
She reached into the box and took out a packet wrapped in tissue. Opening it, she produced a pair of bright pink baby pants with yellow frills.
They’re quite full, as you see, but the waist and legs are triple-layered, so they fit nice and tight. Here are the gloves which go with them.” She pulled out a pair of little pink gloves, also with yellow frills, and with yellow straps around the wrists. “And there’s matching bootees too, see? Same pink with yellow tops. What do you think?”
“Great, Niccy,” said Sarah. “So fuc-king cute!”
Lavinia just smiled, and looked at Bobby. He took a step back.
“What…? They’re not…”
“For you? Yes, darling. Now let’s see what they look like.”
He fought them, but he was outnumbered and out outmatched. And there was one final surprise. Nicole pulled out a grey pull-on fleece with an attached hood – well, in fact an attached balaclava. They pulled it on over his head. It was elasticated at the waist and the neck, and they had to force it over his head, but once in was on he was allowed to admire himself in the mirror.
The only opening was an oval for his face, trimmed in pink. And on top of his head stood up two long padded ears, also lined with pink. He was a little rabbit! The elasticated waist rode just above the waistband of his baby pants. But worst of all was the bright pink script lettering – on the front, Baby Bobby, and on the back… c-um Bunny!
He was so dumbfounded that he hardly resisted as Lavinia tightened the wrist straps, drew his hands behind his back, and linked the buckle rings together with a tiny padlock, and while Sarah drew a few whiskers and dots on his cheeks with eyeliner. Lavinia had thoughtfully brought his pink collar and bell, and she buckled it around his neck and attached his lead. As she led him downstairs he whimpered and pleaded pathetically, but to no avail.
“One good thing,” whispered Sarah, “that seems to have solved his erection problem!”
“Hmm. For the time being,” smiled Nicole.
-
Chapter 31
A couple of swishes of Lavinia’s whip were all that was needed to persuade Bobby to get into the car. He pressed himself into the corner of the back seat, a sulky expression on his face, as Sarah fastened his seatbelt. Soon they were off again.
“It’s ages since I’ve seen you compete, Lavvy,” said Nicole, checking her mirrors as she overtook a horsebox, probably going to the same destination. “I’ve got my kit with me, so I’m going to have a little ride too, while we’re there. I’ll get Daphne to saddle Cocoa and take him round the big field a couple of times.”.
“Yes, it is. It’ll be nice to have some support today. I think I’ll need it, wearing those boots!” She gave a short laugh, and turned to the sulking Bobby, frowning like a six-year-old. “But Bobby dear, this is also going to be a lesson for you. A lesson in obedience. Really, we can’t have you behaving like you did last night, now can we? I mean, we love you dearly, cutie-pie, but you have to learn to obey your betters – or suffer the consequences. Now, I’ve some good friends at the stables. In particular I got to know three of the girl grooms – Jasmine. Phoebe and Ellie – soon after I moved here. They still look after my tack and make sure it’s all clean and polished for when I compete or ride out. I had a word with Jasmine last night and they’ll take care of you this morning before the dressage starts. You’ll like them. But make sure you do what they tell you to and don’t get in their way – understand?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep well out of their way. I’ll keep well out of everyone’s way in this get-up.”
“This “get-up” Bobby?” said Nicole, sarcastically. “How can you refer to your sweet little outfit like that? I went to a lot of trouble…”
“Shut up auntie! I know what you’re doing – you’re just trying to humiliate me cos I didn’t clean Aunt Lavinia’s stupid boots like I was s’posed to! Look, I’m sorry, right? It was the first time and I…I sort of got…you know, a bit embarrassed by…I dunno, the whole thing, and…so I just, like, had to collapse, and…”
“Embarrassed? You weren’t embarrassed, you were just downright disobedient and rude!” cried Nicole. “Don’t worry, we all know exactly what happened – you had your fun, you had your pleasure, wanking off over Lavvy’s amazing footwear, you probably had the best orgasm you’d ever had, and so then you thought, oh, sod them, that was great, why should I bother to do my bit of the bargain. Right? That was it, wasn’t it?”
“Look aunt!” He paused. He was pretending to be angry, but really he was scared stiff. He needed to get out of the predicament he had landed himself in. “Look… I’m really sorry. Today I’ll do everything you want. Everything. Anything. I’ll be really good and well-behaved and polite an’ everything. Okay? I’m really really sorry. I was stupid. I admit it. Aunt Lavinia? I could clean your boots now if you like – polish them up till they shine. I mean, you can’t really wear them as they are, can you? Can you? Auntie…?”
Lavinia turned her head and looked him in the eye. She had a wry smile on her face. She could see he was terrified. Good. That was just what she wanted.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, darling.”
“But Auntie…”
“Shush. No. You need to learn your lesson. If we’re going to trust you in future you need to realise there are consequences for bad behaviour. It’s too late for regrets or apologies. You clearly didn’t understand your responsibilities.” Boby opened his mouth to protest. “No! Enough. If you say another word I’ll have Nicole stop the car and we’ll put you out right here in the middle of the village, and make you walk the rest.”
Bobby bit his tongue. They’d be there in ten minutes at the most. What if he refused to get out of the car? No that wouldn’t work – there were three of them against one of him. There’d be a scene, and it would only attract more attention. Wait a minute – wasn’t his windcheater in the boot? Yes, he was sure it was. It would just about be long enough to hide his – he shivered – his pink baby pants – not to mention his top with its embarrassing texts. It even had a hood! No, they wouldn’t let him hide his ears, he was sure.
They were nearly there.
“A-auntie…?”
“Yes Bobby?”
“Could I… I mean, would it be all right if I wore my windcheater? It’s in the boot, I think…”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option…” she began.
“Oh, let him,” cut in Lavinia. “The girls will probably take him to the stables, anyway. Let him hide his blushes. Okay, Bobby?”
“Thanks, auntie Lavinia!” he cried, gratefully. She could be very understanding as well as strict. For a moment he could have kissed her.
They were early, so the car park was still fairly empty. Bobby was first out. He wanted to reassure himself his jacket was there. He threw open the boot. Yes! Tucked in a corner. He grabbed it, shook it out, and pulled it on. It was dark red, with a front zip and elasticated waist, and a size too large, so that it came down to his upper thigh, hiding his pants. He stuck his hands in his pockets, so only his pink and yellow bootees hinted at what was unseen. Now things seemed a lot less scary. Indeed, he had almost forgotten about his appointment with the three grooms. But he was soon to be reminded.
Lavinia retrieved her boots and another bag from the boot, Nicole took her stuff, and then the little group started up the track which led to the equestrian centre buildings, beyond which lay the showground and open fields. The main stable block was on their right, and they were half way up the track when three girls, chattering and laughing, came round the corner. Lavinia waved.
“Girls! Hi – we’re here!”
The girls waved back. Bobby bit his lip. They looked a year or two older than him. They all wore breeches and long boots. One had rosy cheeks and a shock of untidy ginger hair, blowing in the wind. The tallest had black hair, cropped at the sides, and seemed to be looking straight at him with a slight sneer. The third was blonde, with a ponytail. As the two groups neared each other he could see she too was staring, her mouth opening in delight. She sniggered and said something to her friends which made them laugh. He switched his attention back to the tall one. As she neared he realised he knew her. Jasmine Lifford, one of the sixth-form prefects! He prayed she wouldn’t recognise him – why should she? – but the expression on her face told him she already knew who he was. Lavinia must have spoken to her about him! But…what did she know? His heart sank.
“Jasmine! Phoebe, Ellie! You came to meet us!”
“Of course, miss. So this is Bobby. Hello Bobby. Nice bootees! Did your aunt tell you we’ll be in charge of you today?”
“I-in charge…?”
“Of course!” piped up the ginger one, who was Phoebe. “We’re going to show you everything!”
“Love your bunny ears!” cried Ellie (the blonde). She looked him up and down. “A bunny in shorts, then.”
“Oh…not quite shorts,” smiled Sarah. “Hi girls. I’m Sarah, and this is Nicole. We’re Lavinia’s best friends.”
Lavinia held up her boots in their bag. “That’s was he did to my lovely boots!” The girls goggled.
“You’re not…” began Jasmine.
“I am. And I’ll tell anyone who asks who is responsible. What a boy! Well, you know a few things, Jasmine. Feel free to tell the others.” She reached into her pocket. “You’ll need this to open the padlock if you need to.” She handed Jasmine the little key.
“Thanks. Yes, I’ve already filled them in.”
“Good. And don’t hesitate…you know…what I sent you…”
As Bobby looked nervously from one to the other, they exchanged meaningful smiles.
“But we must get going, girls. We’re dying for coffee.” She checked her phone. “The café should be open now. Let’s go ladies. Bobby, go with the girls. They’ll look after you till it’s time for the dressage.”
“But…”
But Jasmine had already grabbed his arm, and he found himself being hauled off down the track towards the stables…
-
Chapter 32
As he was being dragged away, Bobby cast a desperate glance over his shoulder, just in time to see the ladies disappearing through the front door of the main building. He stumbled along the path surrounded by his three new acquaintances. None spoke a word until they reached a stable with a green door, which Ellie opened while the other two pushed him through. Ellie closed and locked it behind them. There were two windows on the back wall, none next to the path they had used. It seemed to have been recently cleaned; the stone floor was swept, and the only furniture were two bales of hay under the windows. Bobby, released from Jasmine’s grip, involuntarily retreated into a corner, and stood there fearfully, gripping the back of his jacket to make sure it didn’t ride up. Jasmine smiled, Ellie looked at him spitefully, and Phoebe giggled hysterically. Jasmine folded her arms.
“So, Bobby Tucker…your auntie’s been telling me all about you. Yes, I heard all about last night. Boot Boy? Boot boys are a supposed to clean their mistress’s boots, not besmirch them. Disgusting. But no more than I’d expect from you. Yes, I’ve seen you at school, leching after all the seniors. Little pervert! How dare you even look at one of us. Just keep your eyes on the ground, and if you want sex, go and wank off in your bedroom like I’m sure you always do.”
Here Phoebe gave a little scream of disgust and delight. “Yes! I bet you have loads of pictures of girls in boots. Am I right?”
Bobby shook his head unconvincingly, and turned red.
“So, it’s clear you need a lesson,” continued Jasmine. “You need to learn some manners, and know your place. So we’re going to make you our little bitch. Bobby the Bitch, that’s you from now on as far as we’re concerned. When you’re with us you’ll do exactly as you’re told – no, don’t you dare smile!
“I – I wasn’t…”
It was true. It was pure fear that had made his lip quiver.
“As I was saying, you’ll do as you’re told, and any disobedience will be punished. You’ll be surprised how much pain can be generated by one quick cut of a dressage whip on the backs of your thighs. And on top of that, we have the ultimate deterrent.”
She touched her phone and held it up for him to see. His eyes widened with horror. She had the video of last night!
“And we have this too.” She touched her phone again. “Maid Bobbi. This is the outfit you’ll wear to serve us, unless we’re teaching you how to be a proper boot boy. The little pink maid’s outfit is Phoebe’s favourite, isn’t it Phoebe? She nearly wet herself when I showed it to her!”
Bobby was trembling now. “Please…”
“Please? What, please don’t show anyone else? I won’t hesitate if it becomes necessary. It would be all round the school in a matter of hours. So don’t even think of disobeying us.”
“I won’t, I swear…!”
“You’d better not. You’re proper duties will begin next Friday. Your aunt Nicole has kindly offered to let us have Maid Bobbi for the whole weekend. Today is just a rehearsal. So, bitch, first of all, let’s get that jacket off and let’s see what’s underneath.”
Bobby shrunk back against the wall, but the girls grabbed him. Ellie and Phoebe held his arms while Jasmine unlocked his wrists. They stripped off his jacket and Ellie tossed it into a corner.
“Wow!” exclaimed Phoebe. A bunny in rubber baby pants! Cute!”
“Baby Bobby! Sw-eet…” added Ellie.
“Turn around, Bobby. Go on – let’s see the back,” ordered Jasmine. “What… “c-um Bunny”! Oh dear! I don’t know how people are going to react to that! Better keep your back to the fence when we out on the showground – if you can!” She reattached his wrists and tucked the key away in her breeches pocket.
“No… Please don’t take me out there…”
“Oh, but don’t you want to see Lavinia performing in her new boots? You know, the ones you decorated with your c-um? You’ll be able to boast to everyone about it. “See that lady’s boots? I did that! Yes, all by myself! Would you like me to do yours?” You may get some new customers. Imagine if lots of them say yes! They’ll have to queue up, and you’ll be on your knees all the afternoon. Isn’t that what you dream of?”
Bobby stared at her with pleading, tearful eyes. All the bravado of the previous evening had evaporated. He knew he was entirely in the power of these three ruthless, spiteful girls. He decided he’d do anything – anything at all – to propitiate them.
“W-what do you want me to do…?”
“That what I like to hear. Well first of all, it seems you need a little retraining on the correct duties of a boot boy – wouldn’t you agree? Phoebe? Take a seat.”
Phoebe, a mischievous smile on her face, obediently seated herself on one of the hay bales, and leant back against the wall. Over her close-fitting beige breeches she sported a pair of the standard rubber riding boots most of the grooms wore for work. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, the edge of one heel resting on the bare stone floor. Though not new her boots were not at all dirty: it was a dry, sunny day, and she had only recently washed and wiped them, as she did every morning; so the black rubber gleamed with an unpretentious dull sheen.
Bobby looked startled, but before he could ask any questions Jasmine took him by the shoulder and pushed him down on his knees in front of her.
“What…?”
“Shush. You don’t need to do anything – yet.”
It soon became clear it was a rehearsed scenario. Without a word spoken, Jasmine knelt on Bobby’s left, and yanked down the front of his baby pants. Ellie, pulling on a pair of short kid leather riding gloves, squatted on his right and, suppressing her sniggers, poked at his shy, flaccid little member with her finger. It barely responded, though a little bead of juice formed at its tip.
“Come on, Bobby! This won’t do… Look at Phoebe’s lovely shiny boots. Wouldn’t you love to…you know, what you do best…? Wouldn’t you just love to mess them up, like you did your aunt’s?”
Bobby whimpered, but said nothing. Ellie tried some gentle persuasion, holding his coc-k delicately between finger and thumb and sliding the lubricated foreskin gently back and forth. Bobby bit his lip, but little by little it began to fill and grow.
“That’s it… Good boy… Here, smell the rubber…”
Jasmine put her unoccupied hand on the nape of his neck and pushed his face down until his nose was touching the top of Phobe’s right boot. She held it there whilst Ellie worked steadily on his stiffening coc-k. Within a couple of minutes they had brought him to full erection, and Jasmine let him up again, allowing the tip, now oozing with prec-um, to touch the smooth rubber. Bobby groaned, and began to move his hips slightly, responding to Ellie’s hand. By now she had all her fingers around the shaft. She knew he had passed the point of no return, so all she had to do now was maintain a steady, relentless rhythm, which she did, seasoning it with soft words of encouragement and little kisses and nibbles at his ear. Jasmine smiled to see this, and reciprocated on her side. Under the influence of their gentle coaxings, any shreds of reluctance Bobby might have been feeling were soon overtaken by enthusiastic cooperation. Clearly he would have loved to have his hands free, but he did his best to supply the deficiency by thrusting energetically into Ellie’s grasp and against the cleft between Phoebe’s crossed boots, squirming his hips about at the same time so as to smear his juices, now flowing freely, over as much of them as possible. Phoebe was doing her best to sit still, looking down on what was unfolding before her with delighted disbelief, but shaking with suppressed mirth. After a few minutes Bobby began to moan quietly, and emit a little "ooh" or "aah" every now and then. The girls knew that it would not be long now. Seeing indicated to Ellie that she should take over holding down Bobby’s baby pants, and thus released, and seeing her friend had everything well in hand, Jasmine retreated a metre or so, took out her phone, and began to record. Lavinia would need a report. Ellie’s gloves were now slick with Bobby’s secretions. She tightened her grip and quickened her pace, pumping vigorously and whipping up his juices into a sticky froth. He gasped, and with a cry of ecstasy exploded into a violent climax. Phoebe screamed. A spurt of thick sperm erupted from his jerking coc-k, followed by another and another, wads of whitish slime splattering the clean black rubber. Ellie, intent on defiling as much of her friend’s boots as possible, aimed each successive ejaculation at a different point on her calves, until, as Bobby’s orgasm began to subside, they were smothered from the tops to the ankles, whilst little rivulets of creamy spunk trickled down lazily towards her feet.
Bobby knelt there looking dazed. Ellie allowed his pants to snap back into place over his wilting erection, stripped of her slimy gloves and tossed them on the floor. Jasmine kept filming.
“No time for rest, Bobby,” she said, curtly. “You need to get on and clean all that mess off right away. Show us you’re a proper boot boy.”
He turned his head. “My hands,” he whined, insolently. “Undo my hands then, and give me a cloth or something.”
Phoebe, who had uncrossed her legs and placed her feet flat on the ground, gave a short, hysterical laugh. Ellie was sitting cross-legged, smiling spitefully. Bobby frowned at them.
“What’s funny?” he whined.
“You won’t be needing a cloth, Bobby – or your hands. Use your tongue.”
“What?”
“You’re going to lick Phoebe’s boots clean, lick them till they shine. If you haven’t started in twenty seconds, I’m going to send one of your videos to…now, let me see, who’s that awful gossip in the fifth form…? Ah yes, Maxine Barrington…luckily I have her number here…”
“No!”
“Ten seconds. Nine, eight…”
Bobby made a decision, and before the countdown had reached four his head was already down, his tongue scooping up a little pool of c-um which had formed on the instep of Phoebe’s left boot.
“That’s better. Good boy! You have ten minutes to lick off every drop. If they’re not perfectly clean and shiny by then, I’ll send it anyway. I’m so tempted, to be honest. Imagine when you go back to school…” She sniggered. “I’m evil, aren’t I? But Lavinia was so upset by last night she’s given me carte blanche, so if I’m not quite satisfied… Bobby! Be careful. You’re getting it on your ears! Start at the top and work down. Yes, like that. That’s better…”
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Chapter 33
Over the succeeding minutes he licked and lapped desperately at Phoebe’s slimy boots, swallowing his warm c-um like a thirsty cat eating cream. Actually he didn’t mind the taste, but as it cooled it was becoming gooey and he was having to suc-k it off the smooth rubber, making loud slurping noises which the girls seemed to find highly amusing. Ellie had done a great job - Phoebe’s boots were comprehensively slimed, and even as he laboured to scoop it from between her calves it was trickling back out of reach. Phoebe could have made it difficult for him, but she took pity and obligingly lifted one leg, then the other, so he could get at those less accessible places. He was terrified of missing the deadline, but somehow he made it – just. He knelt there out of breath, his cheeks and the edges of the face opening in his bunny suit sticky with drying c-um. Had he really made that much? He felt full, as though he had just swallowed a whole carton of custard! But the worst thing was, that being down on his knees licking Phoebe’s boots had started to get him aroused again. How could that be, when he was actually gobbling up his own sperm? Anyway, Phoebe’s boots were glossy and clean again, and Jasmine hadn’t done what she had threatened. On the contrary, she was congratulating him on his achievement.
“Well done, Bobby! You made it! I’m proud of you. And I’m sure your aunties will be too, when they see the video. Perhaps this is the way to go… What do you think? You looked as though you were quite enjoying it… I hope it tasted nice. It’s very good for you, you know, and after all, it was yours, and now you’ve got it all back.”
“Now that’s what I call a boot boy!” cried Ellie.
“It’s what I call a real c-um bunny!” laughed Phoebe. “Did you see the way he was gobbling it up? I think he likes the taste, don’t you, Bobby? I think you should forget about girls, and find yourself a nice boyfriend” And she burst into peals of laughter.
Jasmine looked serious. “Is that right, Bobby? Would you prefer a boyfriend? I mean, you only seem to like girls for their boots, so…”
Bobby wanted to say something, but he was speechless with anger.
“Ooh, I’ve had an idea,” cried Ellie. “When he’s in his maid’s outfit next weekend we could arrange a blind date for him. I know a couple of boys from my school that would just love to go out with a girl-boy, specially if they got a nice blow-job at the end of the evening. What do you say, Bobby?”
“I-I… How…” Bobby stammered.
“I bet my boyfriend would like you, Bobby,” went on Jasmine. “I think he’s always had a thing about ladyboys and such. I’m going to show him the video of you in your maid’s outfit, and see what his reaction is.”
“No! Don’t you dare. I’m not, you know, gay or anything…”
“It’s all right. I won’t tell him who you are. Can’t do any harm. If he fancies you I’m gonna be a bit jealous, to be honest.”
“S’pose Felix does fancy him…” put in Ellie. “What would you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You should give him a surprise. Let Maid Bobbi wait on you one evening. Serve your meal, pour your wine. Invite us, too! I’d love to see his reaction. He’d have no idea who Bobby is anyway. Couldn’t do any harm.”
“No way!” cried Bobby, seriously alarmed now. “No way! I would never agree to something like that, so you can forget about it!”
“Ooh, Bobby… Don’t be so defensive. It makes me want to take up Ellie’s suggestion. You seem to forget the position you’re in. You’re our little bitch, remember. A few minutes ago you were on your knees licking your own c-um off Phoebe’s boots! We decide what you’re going to do now. Disobeying is no longer an option… Is it? Well, is it?”
Bobby looked at Jasmine pleadingly. “No, I guess… But please…”
“We’ll see. I’m warming to the idea. You might be useful… Spice up our sex life a little. Yes, could be fun. Don’t worry, girls, you’ll be right there, whatever I do… But hey, it’s half ten. We should get outside. Bobby, ready? Bobby? My goodness, you’re not all hot and bothered again, are you?” She stared at his pants, stretched taut over the head of his erect pen-is. “You are! Was it our conversation…?”
“Look! He’s blushing!” cried Phoebe.
“Let’s go,” added Ellie. “Let’s go and show off our little baby bunny!”
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I they want him to do what he's told they should make him into Maid Bobbi permanently.
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a diapered baby maid :)
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Chapter 34
They led him out of the stable and up the path, Ellie swishing her riding whip behind him by way of encouragement. One of his ears had bent halfway up, the top section flopping up and down as he walked. However, the girls were amused to see that his coc-k remained as wilful and perky as ever, stretching the front of his pants taut, and bouncing proudly at every step. Every stable lass they passed stopped to stare and giggle, and he heard the word “coltish” whispered several times.
“What does that mean?” he asked Phoebe.
She laughed. “What you are! It really does have a mind of its own, doesn’t it?”
To his relief they didn’t go through the main buildings, but made their way around it on a track that emerged just below the main showground. On their right fields stretched away to the hills, most with horses quietly grazing.
“Who’s that on Cocoa?” asked Phoebe, shading her eyes.
“Must be my aunt Nicole,” replied Bobby, sulkily.
Up at the showground spectators were gathering. There were marquees and a row of stalls, and a tier of seats, which Ellie explained were reserved for members of the Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Society. There was also a small raised dais with three chairs and a long desk, apparently for the judges. Over by the nearest field he could see horses being tacked up, and standing nearby were Lavinia and Sarah, and a couple of other women, who seemed to be admiring Lavinia’s boots. Jasmine headed straight for them. Suddenly he had an attack of butterflies, and stopped dead.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t want to see them right now.”
She laughed. “Well they want to see you. Let’s go.”
A gentle slap from Ellie’s whip decided him, and they approached the little group. Lavinia looked round. True to her word, her boots were in the same condition Bobby had left them the night before.
“Here he is now! Bobby – come and meet Miss Poole. Miss Poole the chair of our committee. I’ve been telling her all about you!”
That “all” sent a chill through Bobby. He wanted to run, but the girls shoved him forward. With his hands still secured behind his back he had no chance of disguising his aroused state; indeed, his enforced posture made it all the more prominent. Miss Poole was a slight woman in her early forties, he guessed, with streaks of grey in her neatly-trimmed black hair, very red lipstick, and amused blue eyes. She was dressed in black breeches a white shirt and blue tie, and a smart blue jacket with a badge on the lapel, “Head Judge”. She wore expensive-looking tall leather boots with a whip stuck down the side of the right one. Bobby wondered vaguely why a judge needed to carry a whip. She was accompanied by a pretty younger blonde woman in a petrol-blue close-fitting body suit, red rubber riding boots and a red bomber-jacket, with a “Judge” badge pinned to her left breast. She gave Bobby a seductive smile which made his coc-k quiver, then put one foot slightly forward and dropped her eyes, as if to say, “wouldn’t you like to attend to my boots?” – which assuredly he would have done! Miss Poole’s gaze travelled from his reddening cheeks straight down to his taut pink pants, and back again. A wry smile flitted across her lips.
“I gather, Bobby, you’re the one responsible for the...how can I put it? The rather dishevelled state of Lavinia’s boots. I’m glad she decided to wear them just as they are, despite the fact doing so will almost certainly cost her her rightful position in the dressage. It lets everyone see what a naughty boy you’ve been. I hope today will help you learn your lesson. I must say, had it been me, you would have received a severe correction and you would have finished your job to my satisfaction.
“Excuse me, miss,” said Jasmine.”
“Yes, Jasmine?”
“We’ve spent the morning retraining him, so I think he going to be much more dutiful from now on. And we have our own methods of disciplining him - so Miss Lavinia,” she added, turning to her, “if you have any trouble with him in future, please just let us know.”
“Thank you, Jasmine. I’ll do that. I knew I could rely on you. As to that, though” – she nodded towards Bobby’s erection – “as to that, I think it’s incorrigible.”
“Yes, miss. We think so too. Especially where there’s ladies around in nice boots.”
“Oh! Yes, quite.” She turned to her colleague. “Then I imagine you must like Magda’s, my fellow judge’s boots, Bobby. Magda’s only been with us a week, but she’s already shaking things up. Don’t often see red boots in Pitt’s Wood – rather too conservative, if you know what I mean. But Magda’s a free spirit – and she knows her fashion too. What do you think?”
Magda pointed a toe and gave him a wink. Bobby caught his breath, and made an inarticulate attempt to speak. However, his erection twitched visibly, eliciting a burst of laughter from the ladies.
“Oh, Bobby! You’re such a sweetie,” cried Miss Poole. She turned to Lavinia. “You must bring Bobby to the committee dinner the week after next. Maybe we could make him club mascot? Dress him nicely, won’t you? Now, we must get going. Bobby? Do behave yourself, darling.” She patted his cheek affectionately, shot a last glance at his pants, and gave a smile and a shake of the head. “We’ll see you soon, all right? Bye girls!”
She turned and headed towards the show ring. Magda made a sort of “oh god, I could eat you in one bite” face at Bobby, and followed her. Bobby, cheeks burning, unconsciously fingered his erection, possibly hoping it wasn’t quite as obtrusive as he feared, of which hope he was quickly disabused. Lavinia mounted her house, and trotted off to the collecting ring with Sarah in tow. Jasmine took hold of Bobby’s arm again, and they headed off to the viewing area near the judges’ stage.
“Please,” whined Bobby, “wait a bit. I can’t go over there like this…”
“Well I don’t think it’s going to going down,” said Phoebe. “Come on. You can sit on the ground and no-one will notice.”
“But they’ll all be looking at me in this bunny suit!”
Ellis gave a short laugh. “The bunny suit? I guess. You’d better hope that’s all they’re looking at!”
Bobby could hardly fail to attract attention, and as they approached the first little knot of spectators awaiting the start of the first competition Bobby heard a few “oohs” and giggles and one excited “Mummy! Look at that bunny!” drifting across on the breeze. The stalls and temporary shops were arranged in a row along the edge of the field, and the girls were about to head to the tent housing the local equestrian retailer, when a voice called from the direction of the showground.
“Girls! Hello! We have a spare seat here. Let him come and sit with us.”
Miss Poole was beckoning from the judges dais, where a row of three chairs faced the showground. She occupied the middle on, with Magda on her left. The one on her right was vacant. The girls shepherded Bobby over.
“Come on, Bobby. That’s right, come sit here. Our colleague is sick and won’t be coming.”
Reluctantly, Bobby made his way through the groups of spectators, blushing under their impudent stares and hushed exclamations, and climbed the three steps up to the platform, where, feeling even more exposed, he quickly seated himself next to Miss Poole.
“There, that’s better,” she cooed, placing a cool hand on his bare thigh, “you’ll have the best view from here.”
“Yes,” added Magda, leaning forward with a wicked smile, “you’ll be able to see all the ladies riding boots much better from here. Tell us which ones you like best.”
He didn’t really mean to say it, but Magda was so pretty and glamorous it almost came out of its own accord: “I like yours the best, miss…” he blurted, blushing to his ears.
“Ooh,” cried Magda, “you have confessed! I’m flattered you like my taste. Would you like to clean them for me sometime? But please, don’t leave them like Lavinia’s, will you?”
Poor Bobby was thrown into total confusion by that last remark, but at the same time there was something in Magda’s tone that made him think the offer of cleaning her boots was at least in part serious. His heart was beating fast, and he was almost choking with excitement, but somehow he plucked up the courage to reply.
“I’ve learned my lesson, miss. Y-es, I would like to – and I promise I’d do it properly!”
Magda raised her eyebrows and gave him a doubtful yet slightly seductive look.
“So… I hope you keep your promise… We’ll see, won’t we…?”
This exchange left him very hot and very nervous. Miss Poole seemed to find it very amusing. Taking advantage of his pinioned arms, she slid her hand down the inside of his thigh, so that her knuckles brushed his erection, and whispered in his ear.
“You’re a lucky bunny, Bobby. Magda doesn’t pay any attention to boys as a rule.” She lowered her voice further. “Be careful you don’t end up as her slave…”
At that moment he wouldn’t have minded. No, not at all. But the first competitor had arrived in the ring. The PA announced “Miss Adeline Boughton on Tomboy”. Tomboy was a spirited chestnut gelding with white socks, who was reluctant to do what Miss Adeline Boughton, a thin-lipped blonde with expensive leather boots, wanted him to. As she left the ring Miss Poole and Magda had a brief consultation, and Miss Poole wrote down a number opposite the first name on a clipboard.
Lavinia was the fourth competitor, riding the seventeen hands bay mare Maria. By the time it was her turn, Bobby had largely regained his cool, but when she trotted in proudly in her latex breeches and those boots all dappled and smeared with his secretions, and both Magda and Miss Poole turned their heads to look at him, he flushed again immediately, and wished he could run away and hide. Lavinia herself, ignoring the shocked reaction of the spectators, shot him a meaningful look, and slowed to a walk preparatory to beginning her routine. Bobby heard some friend at the front of the crowd say “Lavvy? What’s with the boots?” He didn’t hear the reply, but Lavinia pointed straight at him. She probably said “ask that boy”. He looked away quickly and prayed she wouldn’t.
Her performance was faultless, and would have undoubtedly won her another first prize – had it not been for the state of her boots: in dressage both horse and rider’s turn-out are taken into account. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t there that day for the winner’s rosette. She was there to satisfy the sexual frustration generated by the previous evening’s aborted exercise, and her acc-umulated exhibitionist desires. Her ribbed dil-do was firmly in place, and, in view of the relatively short time she would be in the ring, she had set it to maximum, and it was humming and squirming vigorously inside her. During the final routine in her performance, an exhibition of neatly-executed half-passes, it brought her to the very brink of a precipitous orgasm; so instead of exiting the show-ground as the applauding spectators expected, she casually walked her mount over to the judges’ stand, saluted them, and then, right there in front of everyone, with all eyes on her, surrendered to the its relentless probings! Grinding her crotch against the hard leather saddle, she gave a cry of ecstasy, and collapsed forward against the horse’s neck! Miss Poole, having known Lavinia for years, knew exactly what was going on, though she had never before seen her completely lose control. Her eyes closed, her feet slipped from the stirrups, the reins from her fingers, and her long whip fell to the ground. She lay there, mouth open, cheek resting on Maria’s mane, in the grip of a shuddering climax, her body jolted by wave after wave of intense pleasure.
Magda gasped, covered her mouth, and looked at Miss Poole.
“She’s not…is she…?”
“She is, yes. She must have needed it desperately.”
“But…in front of all these people… I mean…”
“I’ll explain later, dear. I think she’s almost finished.”
Cheeks flushed, hair down in her eyes, breathing hard, Lavinia seemed to be reviving. Slowly she regained her seat, recovered her irons, and gathered up the reins. Phoebe emerged from the nearest knot of spectators and returned her whip. She sat still for a moment, then, looking dazed but content, she patted her mount, and with a “good girl”, walked her slowly towards the exit. She was at peace again. She reached into her coat pocket and turned the dil-do remote to zero. When she got into that state of arousal it was as if the world didn’t exist. And when she came out of it she never had any regrets. She hoped her audience had enjoyed the show a tenth as much as she. She smiled. That was the best ever. She was getting daring in her old age!
As for Bobby, he was open-mouthed and rigid with excitement. It had suddenly dawned on him what a sexy lady his aunt Lavinia really was. He felt ashamed of his behaviour towards her, and became filled admiration for her, and with a compulsion to make amends, to do whatever she might ask him, to be her faithful servant from then on. Miss Poole was explaining something to Magda, who was listening intently, and seemed quite excited about her new colleagues, who had turned out much more interesting than she could have anticipated. As indeed they were…
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Chapter 35
After the announcement of the results of the dressage the top three returned to be presented with their certificates and rosettes. Lavinia was still flushed, a smile of contentment on her face. She had ended up in third place, but she got the biggest cheer from the crowd. As the three trotted out of the ground, attendants ran in and began constructing the remaining obstacles for the showjumping, which was up next; two fences had been left out to allow room for the dressage. Miss Poole’s hand resumed its former place on his left thigh. Her fingers gently caressed his skin, in a way that suggested she was imagining she had hold of his rigid member.
The showjumping didn’t help at all. Pretty lady after pretty lady, so neatly got up, smart jackets, figure-hugging breeches, and worst of all, high, shiny boots. No, there was no way his erection was going away anytime soon. Miss Poole seemed to understand, glancing down with satisfaction every now and then, and gripping his bare leg a little more firmly.
“You’re going to have such fun at the committee meeting…” she breathed, as much to herself as to him.
As for Bobby himself, he was mulling the paradoxes of his sexuality. First paradox: he found females desperately attractive, especially those wearing boots, but seemed unable to do anything – at least, anything conventional – about it. His desire was so overwhelming, he literally became weak at the knees, and wanted to sink down and worship. Only then did he feel comfortable and natural, and only then could he satisfy his urges. And his aunts’ treatment of him had seemed to encourage this desire – no, not to encourage, but to help him realise it. They understood him better than he did himself. It was true! He sighed. Before all this he had imagined himself dating all sorts of girls, being a real jack-the-lad, but now he was realising his place was rather as a submissive, not a lover but a sort of amusing toy for any woman with the inclination. Any desire to struggle against this was weakening by the day. He was unsure as to whether it would be better to fight, or to give in and accept his fate. Second paradox: related; he was a boy, a boy with very strong sexual feelings, yet when his aunts dressed him as a sissy, whether a girl-maid sissy or a boy sissy, he found it both exciting and…yes, natural. He felt strangely elated by the feeling of soft latex against his skin, of sweet, juvenile pastel colours, of caressing fabrics… He sighed. How did they know he could be seduced by such things? In the grip of his own natural submissiveness and sissy attire he became virtually helpless… But not only that, not only did he enjoy the sensation, but he also always wanted to attract the attention of women, and such clothes immediately fulfilled that purpose. So, third paradox: dressed up he was self-conscious, desperately embarrassed. His cheeks and ears would burn, he would have terrible butterflies, he would even tremble and stammer – but a part of him, perhaps the dominant part, loved the fact he was the centre of attention! He feared attention, yet longed for it at the same time! It was tearing him apart. That’s why he thought he might eventually lose the will to resist… Oh, dear, what a mess he was!
He was at such a pitch of arousal for the rest of the day, wanting to ogle all the competitors, that at one point he felt he would have given anything for Miss Poole to take him in hand. A single touch would have been enough to bring him to a climax. Her hand touching or stroking his thigh was driving him crazy. By the end of the show he was simply exhausted. He had never seen so many beautiful glossy boots in one place. As the girls accompanied him back to the car park, where his aunts were waiting, all he could think of was getting home and going to bed.
“Here he is,” smiled Sarah. “Well Bobby, did you enjoy the show?”
“Thanks, girls,” added Lavinia, “thanks for taking him in hand today. As you saw, he badly needs some proper training. You’ll continue next weekend, then?”
“Certainly, miss,” grinned Jasmine. “It was such good fun…”
“Cheer up, darling,” said Nicole. “You look tired. Let’s go home to Lavinia’s have something to eat, and then you can have a good sleep before tomorrow.”
“T-tomorrow…?”
“Yes – don’t you remember? You’re going to be Wendy’s maid for the day. Oh, and Clare’s too, of course.”
In the turmoil of the day, Bobby had forgotten all about that! “B-but…”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve got a lovely new outfit ready for you at home. If you’re good, you can have a sneak preview tonight! Would you like that? Wendy’s so looking forward to having you. Yes, and Clare too, of course…”
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Chapter 36.
Lavinia recovered the padlock key from Jasmine and released his arms. He climbed into the back of the car and closed his eyes, while everyone said their goodbyes. In the event, he fell asleep on the way home, woke up long enough to eat a plate of lasagne, then went to bed, pausing only to discard his bunny top and his bootees. He dreamt of Magda, encased from head to toe in scarlet latex…
This suited Lavinia well, because she needed to have a private word with Wendy. She changed her boots for a pair of black leather ankle boots, grabbed her bag, went round and knocked at her door. Clare opened it, her face lighting up when she saw who it was.
“Lavinia! Come in.” She hesitated. “Are we on for tomorrow, then…?”
“Absolutely.”
Clare was having a year off before university. She had light brown hair cut in a short bob, and mischievous brown eyes. She would have been a few inches shorter than Bobby, Lavinia noted, but he would be in no position to push her around, of that she was confident. She did a little jump of joy. “Yess! That’s great. Come through. Mum’s in the lounge.” She ushered Lavinia eagerly along the corridor. “Mum? It’s Lavinia! We’re gonna get our boot boy! Yippee!”
“Hi Lavinia! How are you?”
“I’m well, thanks, Wendy. Feeling pretty good today, actually. Just thought I’d finalise arrangements for tomorrow.”
“Great! We were wondering…” She noticed her breeches, and did a double-take. “Cool breeches…” she said, thoughtfully. “Is that what you wear for the show…?”
“Yes. Like them? They do get me noticed…”
“Not surprised…”
Wendy was about Lavinia’s age. She had straight, dark brown, shoulder-length hair, and the same naughty eyes as her daughter. She and Lavinia moved in different circles – Wendy was some sort of manager for a media company – but she also had a wild side, and though the two had never really been anything more than neighbours, they saw the wickedness in each other and respected it.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
“I’ll do it, mum. How do you like it, Lavinia?”
“Warm, white and creamy.”
Clare grinned, and disappeared into the kitchen.
“So…he’s agreed, then.”
“No. But he’ll be here.”
“Even better. I like it when they’re a bit rebellious.”
“So do I, up to a point. But when he c-ums all over my boots and then refuses to clean it off…
“What?”
“Yes – just that. He was supposed to use it as polish, but he just took his pleasure and then checked out. I won’t tolerate that, Wendy.”
“I shouldn’t think so! I didn’t realise…”
“It won’t happen again, don’t worry. My girls at Pitt’s Wood took him in hand this morning. Taught him a proper lesson. So if you could carry on the good work…. Don’t spare the rod…”
“Love to. You can rely on us. Especially Clare! Actually I’ve invited a few friends around this afternoon too. I thought it might help break down any resistance…”
“I can see you understand perfectly. Thanks. Tomorrow, though, I thought we’d go for the maid look. He gets a bit too full of himself when he’s playing the boot boy – thinks he has super powers or something! We have a lovely new uniform which Nicole got for him. Nice little maid’s dress in Alice-blue satin, with a layer of crinoline to keep the skirt bouncy, a rounded white collar, and pretty little short puff sleeves with crisp white cuffs.. We’ll give him white tights and black patent leather pumps with ankle straps and medium block heels – not so he’ll be falling over all the time, but just so he has to take care when he walks and won’t be able to run – or run away! The ones Nicole’s got have little padlocks at the back so he couldn’t even take them off if he wanted to.”
“Mmm. Sounds good!”
“You must have guessed girls in boots are one of his weaknesses, but the other is rubber. Oh, Clare…thank you. Ah, the smell of coffee! Where was I? Oh yes, rubber. There’s nothing like the feel and smell of latex to bring out his vulnerabilities. Better than Kryptonite. All his strength drains away. I don’t know where it goes. Into his little coc-k, it seems – that stays nice and firm while the rest of him turns to jelly! Oh, Clare…sorry…”
“That’s okay, Lavinia. I need to hear this as well as mum, so I know how to handle him.”
“Yes, of course. I sometimes forget you’re grown up now. It seems only yesterday…”
Clare gave her a look.
Ah, yes… Well, you get the picture. So we like to keep him in rubber pants, and tomorrow we have a nice pair to match his dress, as well as a pair of matching long gloves which will go right up almost to his puff sleeves. The combination of the two should keep him in a state of desperate arousal all day, which will make your job a lot easier. He’ll want to comfort himself I’m sure, but of course in front of you – and especially in front of your friends – he won’t be able to.”
“Oh, the poor little frustrated thing!” cried Clare, with laugh. “Doesn’t he have a girlfriend, then?”
“He likes girls, all right, but I think he gets so embarrassed he finds it easier to let them take the lead – so they soon realise it’s more fun to have him as a plaything.”
“Ooh…yes, that suits me fine. Especially with that nice firm little coc-k you mentioned…”
“Clare! Behave yourself! What about Damien?”
“Huh. I don’t consider him a proper boyfriend. I just use him when I want to go out and there’s no-one else. I’m gonna dump him soon, anyway. In any case, we’re only talking about Bobby as a plaything. I can have a boyfriend and a plaything, can’t I?”
The women laughed.
“However,” said Lavinia, getting back to business, “in case he does give you any trouble, I’ve brought a few extra things.” She rummaged in her bag. “First of all, restraints.” She produced two pairs of blue leather cuffs, each pair joined in a steel link. “Wrist cuffs. Strap his hands behind his back. He won’t be able to reach the buckles, so no locks required. Once they’re on you can also put on ankle cuffs if you wish. Use the shoe locks to secure them if you think it’s necessary. There's some fine chain, and padlocks too, in case you need it. Then – I don’t know how you feel about this.” She held up two steel staple plates. These screw to the wall, one at neck height, one just below waist height. Once they’re in place you can secure him by his collar and his wrist cuffs with a couple of simple screw-links. If you want me to install them I’ll do it now. I know the measurements.”
“Oh, yes please! Right here, I think, on this wall between the two armchairs. Yes, I would definitely feel more comfortable to know we can secure him properly if we need to.”
“Ooh, mum! This is so exciting! He’ll be, like, our prisoner! Yes, let’s put him there before your friends come round. Then they’ll be able to have a drink and do anything they want and he won’t be able to do a thing about it!”
“Okay. I’ll do that in a minute. Now I’ve also brought his collar. Here.” She handed it to Wendy. It was made of heavy blue leather, about four centimetres wide. On the front was a steel D-ring and a silver plate engraved with the name “Bobbi” in script, and on the back the buckle was equipped with another D-ring, and a vertical flange of leather about ten centimetres high with a loop at the top.
“Nice…”
“And if you need to silence him – and you probably will – here’s his ball-gag. Pop that in his mouth, thread the strap through the loop at the back, and buckle it up firmly. That’s guaranteed to keep him quiet.”
“Gosh, Lavinia, you’ve thought of everything… And all colour matched, too,” said Wendy.
“Bags I put it on him!” cried Clare.
Lavinia laughed. “There’s one more thing actually, Clare…”
“Yes?”
“How would you feel about Bobby becoming your slave?”
“What? My…slave?”
“Just an idea me and the girls had. We could just imagine you being his mistress, having him at your back and call twenty-four seven. He would still be answerable to us, but you’re more his age, and you have a distinct aura of dominance. You’d be able to use him whenever you needed, or whenever you were bored and needed a distraction.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. We’d make it “legal”. Nicole’s his guardian, after all. She can decide what happens to him.”
“You should, darling!” said Wendy. “Your very own maid!”
“Well, look… Here is a contract we’ve drawn up. Nicole and his mum have officially signed him over to you, and Sarah and I have witnessed it. It gives you full control. We’ll also give you all the dirt we have on him so there’s no argument, but the contract may well convince him. We’ll leave it to you. Think about it, and if you want to go ahead, play it by ear, and take him for your own. Then, any time you want some fun, you can summon him – maybe text him a code which will mean, “come now” and give him a location if you’re not at home. You can work out the details, I’m sure.
“Wow… Should I?”
“Go for it , darling!”
“Let us know. You’ll find a training lead amongst the accessories. Now…what else? Let me think… Oh, yes. He’ll have a nice little white latex apron with frills. A maid’s head-dress of course – simple plastic Alice-band with white latex frilling… Maybe a garter, if I can find a suitable one… Oh, and his pants. Yes, his pants… they’re also designed to keep him under control. They have two retaining bands inside, one right at the base to keep his thing nice and firm, one half way up the shaft, to keep it nice and straight and vertical.”
Clare squealed. “Oh my god! I don’t believe it!” She covered her mouth in excitement.
“Yes… And in the back…well, there’s a discreet integral plug… Well, hardly a plug. A little rubber egg on a stalk which goes…inside, if you see what I mean.”
Chloe stared. “A butt plug? Rubber panties with a butt-plug?”
“Yes, Chloe. It has a remotely-controlled vibrator powered by triple-A batteries housed in the stalk, so it can go for a long time if needed. Here’s the controller – I may as well give it to you now…” She handed it to Wendy. “It’s small enough to go on your key-ring. See? Start…stop…each press make it vibrate more, and it shows on the display…one to ten, see? You may need it as a last resort if he starts playing up. It should have a salutary effect…”
“Goodness… You really have thought of everything…”
Clare gaped at the controller. “Mum…? I think probably I should look after that…?”
“Hands off, Clare! You naughty girl! Do you really think I’d trust you with it?”
“Come on, mum! I’m better at stuff like that than you… You know, electronic stuff, Bluetooth and all that! Why can’t I be in charge of the vibrator?”
“Well, we’ll see. Don’t press me about it.”
“All I want to press is that button…” grinned Clare.
“Just be patient, darling.”
“But Wendy, just remember not to leave it going too long, or…” She leant forward and whispered in her ear.
“What?” cried Clare. “Lavinia? What happens?”
“Shush, darling. That was not for your ears,” frowned Wendy.
“Huh. I can guess, anyway.” She did an impression of a male climax. “God, I can’t wait… Lavinia, can we punish him if he misbehaves? I mean properly punish him?”
“He’ll be your property. Or at least, if our little plan works, he will be. So it’s up to you. If you think he deserves it, why not?”
“Cos I still have that school cane I used when I dressed up as a teacher on Halloween…”
“Well, naughty boys sometimes need a good caning… Don’t you agree, Wendy?”
“She’s terrible, isn’t she?” said Wendy, indulgently.
“I take after you, mum…”
“Okay,” said Lavinia. “I think I’ve told you everything you need to know. I’ll fit the wall staples, and then I’d better get back. I’ll bring him at, say, nine tomorrow?”
“Make it eight, please, Lavinia. I can’t wait to see our new maid…” pleaded Clare. And after Lavinia had done her little bit of DIY, and Clare was showing her out, she added,
“I’m glad Bobby likes boots so much. Mum bought me a pair for my birthday, and I’ve been looking for an opportunity to wear them. I think hes gonna like them…”
-
Chapter 37
It was agreed Bobby would breakfast at Wendy’s, and Clare insisted he would serve breakfast.
“He needs to know his place right from the off,” she remarked, and added, “I just can’t wait to see him – I mean her – and to start teaching her her duties. Don’t worry, Lavinia – if you allow us to have her regularly, we’ll train her so well you’ll be able to hire her out for money in a few weeks! You’ll see! I promise!”
When Nicole woke him Sunday morning, Bobby was still sleepy – though predictably his little friend was already as alert as the day before.
“Good morning, Bobby. I see you’re looking forward to your day’s work, then.”
“What? Oh, no. For a moment, I’d forgotten. Why do I have to go round there? I don’t like either of them. That girl’s scary…”
“Oh, you think all girls are scary! She’s nice. She not that much older than you. You could even ask her out. She’s pretty, too.”
“You’re joking, aunt. I’m not interested in her,” said Bobby, who had been so embarrassed during his one previous meeting with Clare that he couldn’t even remember her face. “Is she older? She’s not very tall…”
“You’re tall for your age. She’s average – well, maybe a bit below average. But she’s nice-looking and smart. I bet you get to like her.”
“No way! She might fancy me, I guess, but in any case I could never go out with a girl who’s that much shorter than me.”
Nicole burst out laughing. “What? Whyever not? What a silly thing to say! What does that matter?”
Bobby frowned. “Dunno. It just does…”
“Well, we’ll see how you feel after you’ve spent the day with her.”
“Do I have to…?”
“Yes, you do!” came a voice from the doorway. It was Lavinia. “Now get up and get ready. Go take a shower – and be quick about it. You need to be there in…” - she checked her watch – “in forty minutes.”
Bobby didn’t ask exactly what he was going to be wearing – mainly because he wanted to avoid the matter as long as he could. He soon found out, however, as his costume was laid out on his bed when he returned, wrapped in a towel.
“No….” he whined.
“I told you he’d whine as soon as he saw it,” nodded Lavinia. “Better cut that out, or…”
He noticed her riding whip was lying on the bed next to his dress, so he resigned himself to his fate.
His dressing was conducted with seriousness and efficiency, as if they were preparing a prince for his coronation. Sarah came in to watch, and to record his glamourisation on her phone. Both of the others had donned surgical gloves. He knew what that meant.
“Pants on first,” ordered Nicole. She held them up. Fine, pale blue latex, a double-thickness waistband and reinforced elasticated leg holes, slightly thickened at the base of the anal plug. “Step in. Right, now bend forward… Good boy. Little squirt… Not you, Bobby, the lube… There. That comfortable?”
“No! It’s not! Why do I have to have this? An’ it’s definitely bigger than the other one!”
“Maybe…a little. But we’re having to retrain you, remember? Because of your behaviour. Now stand up straight and let Lavinia deal with the rest.”
He stood still for Lavinia’s part of the operation, keen to ensure everything was handled carefully. The loops were made of fine, soft latex, each about three or four centimetres wide. With the prospect of a difficult day ahead his erection had subsided somewhat, and with Nicole holding open the front of his panties she was able easily to position them. She stretched the lower one open with the fingers of her right hand and used her left to feed his semi-tumescent member and his balls through the loop. She slid her fingers out slowly, allowing it to gently tighten around the base. Then she did the same with the upper loop, which gripped the shaft behind the head. Bobby went to pull away, but Nicole held onto the waistband.
“Wait! Don’t be so impatient. We’re not finished.”
Lavinia picked up the tube of lubricant, squeezed a generous blob onto her fingertips, and smeared it on the tip.. Bobby was most indignant.
“What’s that for? Do you have to do that?”
“Stop it from chafing in case it becomes dry,” said Nicole – knowing full well there wasn’t much chance of that. Lavinia smoothed it on until she saw signs of returning arousal, then stripped off her gloves. Nicole let go of the waistband.
“Ow!”
“Sorry.”
They got his tights on, with a single blue latex garter around his left thigh, and buckled and locked his shoes.
“Do I have to wear these?” he complained, gingerly trying a few steps.
“You’re a maid,” replied Nicole. “This is what maids wear.”
On went the dress with its crisp skirt and elasticated waist – a modest length, just above the knee – and then the fine white latex apron over the top, apron, bib and shoulder straps trimmed with even finer filling . While Lavinia tied his apron at the back, Nicole lightly powdered the insides of his light blue gloves, and while she pulled them on, making sure they fitted perfectly over his fingers and arms, and squeezing out any pockets of air, Lavinia carefully buckled on his stout leather collar.
“What’s that thing at the back? Something’s rubbing against the back of my neck.”
“Nothing. If you behave, it won’t be needed.”
All that remained was for Sarah to slide on the headpiece, and he was ready. They still had ten minutes, but Lavinia guessed Wendy and especially Clare wouldn’t mind them being a few minutes early. Sarah, as being the one least implicated in his transformation, played good aunt. She kissed and reassured him, took his hand, and, much to his trepidation, led him out of the front door. A few people stopped to stare, but they were soon at Wendy’s front door. In response to their ring the door was flung open almost immediately, revealing a delighted Clare. She gasped.
“Bobby! Er, I mean, Maid Bobbi… Come in, please. Mummy, they’re here!” She ushered them down the hallway. “Thank you for coming on time! I’m sorry, I’ve been so excited. Bobby, you look amazing!”
Despite his embarrassment, Bobby actually felt the faintest thrill of pride at that remark. Stupid, maybe, but Clare was staring at him with what he took to be such an expression of admiration that he momentarily forgot he was dressed up as a maid in rubber apron, gloves and panties, and strutted as confidently as his shoes would allow after her! And it was true now he looked at her properly – she was very pretty. He might have been less full of himself if he had known that the expression he took for admiration was in fact simply the delight in being presented with a new toy which turned out to be even nicer than expected.
While the women had a coffee, Clare took Bobby by the hand and led him into the privacy of the kitchen, where she could give him a thorough examination without being observed. She started at the top, standing on tiptoe and running her fingers through the ruffles on his latex headpiece. She was wearing her favourite blue nail polish.
She examined his collar – “such good-quality leather! Look, it’s the same colour as my nails! And I love your little plaque, Maid Bobbi!” – tested the D-ring with her finger, stroked his silky latex gloves, plucked at his apron frills, felt the crisp, crinolined skirt – “oh, gosh! I used to have a dress like this when I was twelve!” - caressed his silky white tights, tugged at his garter, and squatted down played with the little padlocks on his shoes. Then, with an expression of undisguised glee, she stood up facing him, looked up into his face, and said, coolly,
“Can I have a peek at your panties?”
Bobby blinked, blushed and took a step back. He bit his lip. “I-I don’t think…” he began.
The smile faded from Clare’s face. “Maid Bobbi! Show me your panties!”
The buss of conversation next door stopped suddenly. Then there was a burst of laughter.
“Do what your mistress tells you, Bobby!” called Lavinia. “Or I’ll tell her to put you over her knee and spank you!”
“Show me!”
Nervously he lifted his skirt a couple of inches, unconsciously crossing his thighs.
“Higher. Right up!” She slapped his leg, hard. It stung. He sobbed, and hoisted it up. Clare squatted down again, and pulled down the front of his tights. He flinched.
“Stand still!” She stared, and giggled. “Bobbi, you have such cute panties. And you fill them so nicely…” She gently prodded each of his balls in turn, then ran her nail slowly up the engorged shaft to the bulge of the glans. The lube had done its work, and he was again in his usual aroused state. Clare explored the constriction below the head. Oh, yes, I see… This keeps it in place. How clever.” She pushed the head gently with one finger,, making it slip sideways and making Bobby gasp. “What’s the matter? Do you want to play with it? You can if you want, so long as I get to watch…”
“And me!” called Wendy from the lounge. “I want to see too!”
“No. mum – I think he’s too shy to do it at the moment. It’s very big and hard, though, and it slides from side to side if I push it, so it must be very juicy. It’ll have to pop sooner or later…”
“Well come and say goodbye you two. Lavinia and her friends are about to leave.”
Clare dragged Bobby, frightened and flushed, back into the lounge. Everyone had risen from their chairs and his aunts were preparing to leave. Bobby would have liked to beg them to take him with them, but he knew it would be to no avail. They contributed to his confusion by insisting on kissing him goodbye, as if they were leaving forever. His face was a picture.
“You will be back later?”
“Hmm,” said Nicole. “Probably. We’ll see. Maybe we’ll leave you here if Wendy and Clare want to keep you…”
“Ooh, yes please,” said Wendy, enthusiastically. “Or maybe we could lend him to one of my friends…”
They all laughed, while Bobby stood there helplessly looking seriously distressed. But before he could think of what to say or do they had left, and he was alone with his new mistresses,,,
-
Chapter 38
Wendy smiled a smug smile and looked at Bobby.
“Well, darling, now don’t you look pretty? But I think your aunties have forgotten something. Don’t you agree, Clare?”
“Yes, mum. They’ve sent him out without makeup.”
“Exactly. If it were just us I wouldn’t care. You’d be able to carry out your chores just as well without it. But my friends will be over after lunch, and they’ll expect their maid to be perfect in every way. So come and sit down and let us make you pretty.”
It didn’t take long. Wendy plucked his eyebrows and scrubbed his face, then allowed Clare to take over, while she went off to find some earrings. Clare redrew his eyebrows, applied foundation, blusher, and some subtle blue eyeshadow, and finished off with peach lip gloss. Wendy returned with a pair of silver screw-on earrings with dangly silver chains, and did them up so tight it made Bobby’s eyes water.
“That’s better! You look gorgeous, sweetie. Now, clear the cups away, make us some breakfast, and while we’re eating you can wash up. You can have yours when all the washing up is done and put away.”
“But…”
“No buts. Get on, or I’ll have to punish you. You’ll find a tray on the kitchen counter. Take the cups out first, then cook us some pancakes. I assume you don’t know how to make pancakes, so you’ll find a packet of ready-made ones next to the fridge. Read the instructions.”
“Yes, and get me some orange juice,” added Clare. It’s in the fridge. And bring in the chocolate sauce. Hurry up, please. Don’t forget plates and forks.”
“She’s got a lot to learn,” sighed Wendy.
“Yes, mum, but if we have her regularly we can teach her. If I punish her for every mistake, she’ll soon learn to take care.”
“Oh… And how are you proposing to punish her exactly?”
Bobby had returned with plates and forks, and dumped them on the table with a sour look on his face. Clare turned and slapped his leg as hard as she could.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“Put them out nicely, idiot! Yes, and the forks by the side. You’re a servant now, and you’d better learn to do things right. Don’t you dare scowl like that! Right. I got a present for you. I thought you might need it. Go to the bottom drawer in the chest… Yes, there. Well, open it. What do you see lying on top?”
Bobby hesitated. “A…a cane?”
“A cane, what?”
“What? Oh…a cane, er, miss Clare…”
“Good. That’s better. You’re learning. Bring it here, maid.”
Nervously, he brought it over.
“Turn around. Turn around!”
Smack! Right across the backs of his calves. Bobby yelped, jumped, and nearly fell.
“That’s what it’s for. Understand?” Clare had a vicious smile on her face. “Understand?”
Bobby had tears in his eyes. “Yes miss, yes, I understand. Please, I have to go and cook the pancakes…”
“Yes, go. Hurry up. You’d better cook them properly, or…”
“I will, miss…”
Bobby retreated into the kitchen. Clare placed the cane on the adjacent chair.
“You were serious about punishing him, I see.”
“Of course. If we’re going to have a maid, she needs to learn her lessons. Why don’t you give me that remote now?”
Wendy sighed. “Well, you seem to enjoy being in charge. Here, take it. But use it sparingly. Remember what Lavinia said… Ah, here come our pancakes…”
-
Chapter 39
Fortunately for Bobby, he had cooked these pancakes many times before for himself, so they were perfectly done, not burnt as Clare had thought they might be. Which she felt was a pity, since for such a misdemeanour a good caning would have been fully justified. She was keen to establish her proprietorship early on – she really fancied the idea of having him as a slave. Her experiences with boys so far had not been rewarding, and she felt that if she could revenge herself on them as a whole she would feel a lot better. This ambition was shared with several of her friends, who would only be too delighted to discover they had an oversexed and defenceless member of the species available for abuse. But further opportunities for punishment and humiliation were soon to present themselves.
Clare had him stand behind her chair like a domestic whilst she ate, opposite her mother.
“So, Bobbi,” said Wendy, as she finished the last mouthful, “how are your other duties coming along?”
“O-other duties, miss?”
“Your boot cleaning duties.”
“Oh…that…”
“Yes, that. Was your aunt Lavinia happy with your work Friday evening?”
“F-Friday? Oh, yes…Friday. Well, I, er…did my best, I hope…”
“Really? I’m pleased to hear that. I’m sure Lavinia will confirm your account…”
Bobby panicked. “W-well, miss…to tell the truth…it wasn’t my greatest er, performance ever… I’d rather you didn’t remind her…if that’s all right…”
“Oh, I see. You’re too modest, I’m sure. I think we’d better see for ourselves, don’t you, Clare?” she added, with a wink.
“That’s a good idea. Bobbi? You can clear the table now, and do the washing up. Then I’ll test you to see what sort of boot boy you really are. When you’ve done you’ll find the boot cleaning stuff in a wooden box in the cupboard next to the sink. Bring it into the lounge. I’ll go and get ready.”
The reason Clare hadn’t yet worn her new boots was that they were strictly club style, and she and her friends hadn’t gone clubbing for a few weeks now. She went up to her bedroom, retrieved them from the bottom of the wardrobe, and lay them on the bed. They’d been quite expensive, but then they were her first pair of grown-up boots, and they’d been custom-made. And grown-up they undeniably were! Thigh-length with a three-inch block heel, fine, smooth black leather lined with what looked like pinky-purple satin, with two lapped back zips, so zipped up they disappeared under soft leather flaps. Each zip zipped from bottom to top, the lower one from the ankle to the crook of the knee, leaving the thigh section open at the back, and free at the front. That had its own zip, which closed the top of the boot firmly around the lower thigh. Both zips, once closed, were secured in place by a little flange that locked into the teeth.
She experienced a frisson of excitement as she ran her fingers over the silky leather. “If these don’t do the trick, nothing will…” she murmured. As to the nature of the “trick”, the little laugh which followed the statement suggested she had a plan. But she was already preoccupied by what should accompany her footwear. It didn’t take long to make a decision. A sparkly blue spandex dress, stretchy and figure-hugging, long in the sleeves and short in the body, black fishnet tights, and silver satin panties. She slipped her legs into the boots, and zipped them up to the knee. She refreshed her makeup, applied a few dabs and squirts of her sexiest scent, slipped on a couple of cheap plastic bangles, and headed off downstairs.
Bobbi was standing obediently by an armchair, the box of boot-cleaning materials at his feet. Wendy was relaxing opposite, in the other armchair, sipping a coffee, an expectant smile of her face. When Clare walked into the room amidst a cloud of perfume, Bobby’s mouth fell open. He gaped and his knees started to tremble. Clare stopped and did a little pose.
“What do you think? Like them? Well?”
An inarticulate sound emerged from Bobby’s open mouth. Then he started to stammer.
“I-I-I…v-very n-nice, yes…I mean…er…”
“Is that all you have to say? Well, let’s get on. First of all, come here and do my thigh zips. Come on! Don’t just stand there like you’ve wet your knickers!”
Bobby collected himself. He approached Clare, who simply lowered her eyes, indicating he should kneel. He dropped to his knees, she gave a quick smile of satisfaction, then spun round.
“Zip them up, then. And make sure you press in the pulls till they click, and make sure the flaps are properly closed and neat. Understand?”
“Y-yes, miss…”
The zips were heavy-duty and quite stiff. He had to place his left hand against Clare’s knee while he pulled up first one and then the other, until the flaps closed firmly around Clare’s thigh. His rubber glove adhered to the leather. Being made-to-measure, the boots fitted her legs, which were slim but strong, like the rind on an orange. He clicked in the pulls and smoothed the flaps so the zips disappeared under the leather. His face was inches from her thigh. He caught a glimpse of her silver panties under the hem or her dress. His heart began to pound. He was breathing heavily.
“Goodness, what a fuss. Now…”
She left him kneeling there and took her seat in the armchair.
“Right, now… What are you doing? Come here idiot! For goodness’ sake…servants these days…”
“She’s inexperienced,” smiled Wendy, enjoying every second. “Give her a few weeks…”
“Pass me my cane, mum. Thanks.”
Bobby had scrambled to his feet, and was standing in front of her, about to kneel again.
“Wait!” She ran the cane up and down his leg, and gave his calf a little flick, making him jump and squeal. She smiled. She was realising how much she enjoyed using it.
“Lift up your skirt!”
“Lift up your skirt!”
Nervously he took hold of the hem and raised it.
“Higher.”
She contemplated the bulge under his tights. It looked uncomfortably, satisfactorily swollen, like a well-filled sausage. The retaining loop was doing its job, holding it firm and keeping it erect. She ran the tip of the cane up it from his balls to the head, making him flinch. She prodded it a couple of times, enjoying his fearful whimpers.
“Good. Now down on your knees. See that black tube with the sponge? That’s the cream for my boots. Do the left one first, Don’t miss any part. Then the right one. Then go back and polish them with those cloths. Get it?”
“Yes, miss!” Bobby fumbled with the tube, eliciting an impatient sigh from his mistress, but eventually calmed down enough to start applying the cream. He was really very meticulous, and despite his fluttering heart he even managed to work around the top of Clare’s boots without getting a speck on he tights. For the backs she obligingly stood up and bent forward with her hands on the back of the chair, presenting him with a perfect view of her panties, which he was forced to ignore with clenched teeth, for fear of losing his cool altogether.
The polishing process was a lot easier. The smooth areas, the pointed toes, the heels and the legs, he could simply polish with a cloth until they glowed with a soft sheen. The scent of new leather filled his nostrils and made his coc-k throb and ooze. The slight wrinkles around the ankles he brushed gently first, and for the stitching around the soles he first used a special little fine wire brush. Eventually he leaned back, cheeks and ears burning, shaking with relieved concentration. Clare smiled down on him.
“Good girl… I’m really impressed…” She winked at Wendy. “Mum..? Do you have the…you know…”
Wendy reached down beside her chair, picked up a short blue leather leash, and tossed it to her daughter. Clare caught it, clipped the end to Bobby’s collar, and wound the other end around her hand. Then she slowly pulled her towards her, until his knees were up against the base of the armchair, his chin was resting on the armchair seat between her thighs, and the head of his bursting pen-is was pressed hard against the tight waistband of his panties, and beginning to force its way between it and his slippery tummy. She closed her thighs so that his face was trapped between the tops of her boots. He found himself staring straight up her skirt.
“Do you like that?”
Bobby’s only reply was to start choking. Clare gave a couple of salutary tugs on his leash.
“Stop that. Take your eyes off my panties and look at me. Now, I have a question for you. Think carefully before you answer. Do you like being my maid and my boot boy?”
“Y-yes, miss,” answered Bobby, unhesitatingly, desperate to be released, since the head of his coc-k had now slipped out of his panties, and was digging into his navel and dribbling juice down the front of his tights.
“Don’t feel pressured. I won’t be angry if you say no.”
“No, miss. I really do!”
Clare was breathtakingly pretty, especially in those amazing boots. At that moment, despite his discomfort, he really would have done anything for her.
“Right… So, would you like to have me as your mistress…permanently?”
He stared up at her – as much as he could, with his head locked between her thighs. What was she suggesting?
“P-permanently…”
“Yes. Full-time. I mean, you wouldn’t be required to attend me full-time, but you’d always be at my disposal. And you’d have to be loyal to me, above all others – including your aunts.”
“But… But they’d never agree. They’d never…”
“They already have. Mum? Show him the contract.”
Wendy rose from her chair, took a sheet of paper from the dresser, and squatted down beside him.
“I’ll read it to you.”
“Thanks mum.”
“Right. Here we go. “I, Rosemary Tucker, and my sister Nicole etc. etc. of number twelve etc etc. hereby qualify our guardianship of our son and nephew, Bobby Tucker, in accordance with the following provisions. Whereas our close friend Lavinia’s close and trusted friends Wendy and Clare Hunter have undertaken temporary custody of the said Bobby Tucker, and whereas the said Clare Hunter has expressed an interest in adopting Bobby in the relationship as mistress and servant, and whereas we regard Clare as a person well-qualified to take charge of and instruct Bobby in all aspects of behaviour and all duties of boot boy and maid, we hereby cede to Clare on her subscribing below in the place indicated primary guardianship and control of Bobby either until she shall withdraw from same or until we are minded to cancel this deed.” It’s dated and signed by your mother and Nicole, and counter-signed by Lavinia and Sarah. There are two blank spaces left, one for Clare and one for you. So Bobby, Clare is ready to sign, and you need to think very carefully about whether you want to do the same.”
Clare opened her legs slightly and let out a few inches of leash. Bobby drew back slightly, and gave a sigh of relief as his coc-k slipped back inside his panties. The decision was an easy one. He realised he fancied Clare desperately, and this agreement would allow him to spend more time with her. He felt confident that once she got to know him she would be a lot more affectionate. Who knows, he could end up being, not her slave, but her boyfriend! Then he’d make her wear her boots every time they dated! And he’d also liberate himself from the three aunts – so in his deluded state he thought – and no longer have to fear humiliation at the hands of those horrid stable girls! So Wendy found a pen, Clare signed, and he signed, and it was done. As he handed the paper back to Wendy, he looked at Clare with a propitiating and hopeful smile. But as he saw the gleam in her eyes, it faded, and he became uncertain.
“Er, Miss Clare…what will my duties be..,.?”
She regarded him with a look of detached indifference. “Your duties? There’s only one, really. Obedience, total obedience, humble obedience. In case you forget… Turn around.”
“Wh…?” He was about to query the instruction, but her expression stopped him. She put a hand on his shoulder and turned him round.
“Hold up your skirt.”
His hesitation was momentary. Then, crack! A single hard stroke of the cane across his bottom, eliciting a yelp of pain. He swung round, eyes filling with tears. Clare laughed.
“Now do you get it? Right. We need to prepare for the rest of the day. Mum? Restraints, I think.”
Wendy was folding up the contract, which she locked in a drawer.
“Yes, darling.”
It dawned upon him he had made a terrible mistake. But it was too late.
That evening, after the party, (which will be described in a succeeding chapter), was over, Wendy, who had been reading a lot of Edgar Allen Poe recently, wrote the following pastiche.
As he knelt there on the floor,
Wond’ring what she had in store,
Contemplating dash for door –
Quoth the maiden, “Nevermore”.
Her hand felt like a tiger’s claw.
Fear at his vitals ‘gan to gnaw,
Would she his freedom e’er restore?
Quoth the maiden, “Nevermore”.
Never had he felt before
Like a woman’s helpless whore.
She would free him, he was sure.
Quoth the maiden, “Nevermore”.
“You cannot, Clare, my pleas ignore –
My pledge has not the force of law -
Let me my promise now withdraw –”
Quoth the maiden, “Nevermore”.
At last he understood the score –
He gan to weep, to weep full sore,
To plead, to beg, and to implore –
Laughed the maiden, “Nevermore”.
“Now you’re mine, both flesh and core,
Well or sick, rich or poor,
Like a serf in days of yore,
You’re my slave, for ever more!”
-
Great update simon's sister, who'd have thought Edgar Allen Poe would be getting a mention on Betty's site .... ;-)
-
Chapter 40
They were about to put on his cuffs when there was a ring at the bell.
“Who’s that? I said not before twelve. I’ll go…”
“Mum! No. Wait a second.”
She walked quickly to one of the front windows and peeped out.
“fuc-k! It’s fuc-king Damien!” A moment’s hesitation. “Bobby – you go. Don’t get talking – pretend you don’t speak English, or something. Quickly now!”
Bobby, not entirely sorry to have had his bondage delayed, made his way nervously to the door. He opened it, but not too wide. Clare and Wendy watched from the lounge door.
A young man in glasses, stocky, with a slightly irritated expression on his face. Jeans and leather jacket. Faint air of self-importance. He peered at Bobby, puzzled, and looked around as if to check he was in the right place.
“I want to see Clare. Who are you?” he added, rudely.
“I-I, er, new maid…” answered Bobby, with an unidentifiable eastern European accent.
“Maid? They’ve got a maid now? Ha! Haha!”
He stared at her, and pushed the door open further so he could get a better look. He blinked. He seemed to have forgotten about Clare for the moment.
“How long have you been their maid, darling?”
“Er, long …?” As if he didn’t understand.
“Never mind. What’s your name, sweetie?” He was looking her over now, like a farmer inspecting a prospective purchase of livestock.
Here Bobby heard a suppressed snort of laughter from the area of the lounge door. He lowered his head shyly.
“Bobbi, sir…”
“Bobbi? That’s cute. Please tell Clare – I mean,” (with a leer), “your mistress…that Damien Stern is here to see her…”
Bobby, uncertain what to do next, left the door ajar and hurried as fast as his heels would allow him back to the lounge. Damien took the opportunity to stick his head inside and observe her retreat, which he did with a smug smile.
To his surprise Bobby found both Wendy and Clare lying on the ground apparently helpless with silent mirth. He approached Clare.
“Clare! It’s that guy. Damien something…”
“Oh, god… I know. Shit, you’ve left the twat there with the door open…”
She was scrambling to her feet when “the twat” in question appeared in the doorway.
“Oh…Damien! I wasn’t expecting you… Mum, it’s Damien…”
Wendy had just managed to get to her knees.
“Damien… Hi…”
“Why are you both down there…?”
“We, er, dropped some, er…
“Yes,” interrupted Wendy, seeing Clare lost for ideas, “we dropped some er, curtain hooks. Need to clean the kitchen curtains… How nice to see you…”
“Well, I came because Clare was supposed to ring me.” He turned to her. “Why haven’t you? We discussed going to the club last night. I didn’t hear a word, so…”
“I’m really sorry, Damien. I’ve been distracted with…oh, yes, with our new maid. She needs to be told so many things…so many…she’s new, you see, and…”
“Yes, I gathered that much. I had no idea you were getting a maid…”
“Well, we may not… I mean, it’s just a trial, sort of thing. Friend of a daughter – I mean, daughter of a friend, who needs to make a bit of extra cash to…er, to pay for her, er…”
“Tuition,” blurted Wendy. “Yes, music tuition. She learning the pian…”
“Violin!” interrupted Clare. “And piano. Very musical er…girl.”
They lapsed into an awkward silence.
Damien turned to Bobby, who had retreated into a corner and was standing, hands clasped in front of him, head slightly bowed, as he supposed maids were supposed to stand when awaiting instructions.
“Well, er, Bobbi, is it? Nice to meet you. That’s a very…pretty outfit. Quite, er traditional, if I may say so,” he added, portentously. He squinted at her latex-clad arms. “I like your gloves…very good in the kitchen, I’m sure.”
Bobby, not knowing what else he should do, attempted a curtsey. He flashed a look at Clare, appealing for help, but none was forthcoming. She was more interested to see how things developed.
“Oh, don’t be shy, dear.” Damien took a step closer, and then, yes, he actually took Bobby by the chin, and lifted his head, for all the world like an eighteenth century landowner patronising one of his female servants with a view to a little bit of casual sex! That was exactly what Clare hated about him. She hadn’t seen it at the beginning. Pompous, privileged – son of an equally pompous barrister – misogynistic, and condescending. He obviously fancied Bobbi, and knowing him, he had filed her away for a future peccadillo. Perfect. Well, fuc-k him. What a great parting present this could be.
“I’m really sorry, Damien. Mum’s having a party in an hour or so, and we really have to get ready, and Bobbi needs to know what she’s doing. Can I ring you in the week? I’m so sorry I didn’t explain, but…”
Damien waved her apology airily aside.
“No probs, Clare. At least I got to see you…and the very pretty addition to your household,” he added, bestowing a seductive leer upon Bobby. “I shall depart, then…”
Clare took Bobby by the hand. “Please see mister Stern out, Bobbi…and play up to him, all right,?” she whispered in his ear.
Bobby led Damien down the corridor. He seemed in no hurry. At the door he turned…
“You know, I’m very impressed. If you don’t end up as a full-time maid here, well… I believe my family may well have a position vacant… Here, let me give you my card… Would you ring me…? Would you? In the next day or so? Promise?”
“P-promise…?” He looked up at him with big, frightened eyes.
“Yes. This week, yes?” He made a phone sign with his hand. “Good girl. I’m sure we can do something for you…”
When Bobby returned to the lounge something unexpected happened, albeit something very brief, which made all the bad things that day pale into insignificance. Clare took him in her arms, hugged him, and gave him a good, hard kiss on the lips.
“fuc-king brilliant, Bobby. I fuc-king love you! Give me that card. What’s this…”Legal Assistant”. Yeah right. Cleans his old man’s shoes.” She turned to Wendy. “What a wanker! I’ll have him by the balls, mum, I will, with luck! Anyway, fuc-k him. Let’s get ready. Bobbi? Help me with the table. Mum’s friends will be here soon.”
-
Chapter 41
Bobby was still in shock, but he quickly recovered, eager to be of service. That one kiss had taken away any self-consciousness at a stroke. It was something he could never have dreamed of had he not been cast in the role of Clare’s maid. Suddenly the uniform and the makeup had ceased to be an embarrassment and instead had proved an asset. Actually, he reflected subconsciously, he loved the feel of the crisp dress, the fine tights, the clumpy shoes…and especially those beautiful long latex gloves. Maybe he himself was, well, if not actually pretty, at least feminine – that boy had thought so, after all.
“Mum? Why don’t you go change. Bobbi and I will get the table ready. Take your time. They won’t be here for at least an hour. What are you going to wear?”
“Oh, I think just my new white top with black pants and boots. Nothing fancy.”
“I thought now that we have a maid…”
“Well I don’t need to put on airs. I will make sure to show them I know how to treat a servant though – so Bobbi, make sure you jump when I tell you to do something, understand.”
“Oh… Yes miss. Of course, miss.”
“Good girl. All right, Clare, I’ll leave the preparations to you.”
The dining table was stowed away in a corner next to the big windows which overlooked the garden. They carried it into the middle of the room. Then Clare beckoned Bobby to follow her into the kitchen.
“You need to lay five places. Mum has three friends coming, Steph, Sam and Lydia. Mum will sit at the end. I’ll sort out where the others sit. Now, for each person, place mat, two knives, two forks, soup spoon and desert spoon. Put out side plates, two glasses for now – white wine and tumblers for water. I’ll show you the glasses for red and for bubbly later, though you probably know all that…”
“I know most things, miss. I often wait on my aunts, whether I’m being a maid or not.”
“Good. Nice to hear you sounding confident. So lay the table first, and then we’ll talk about your duties. While you’re doing that I’ll give Lavinia a call to tell her the good news.”
Bobby got to work. He no longer had any illusions about Clare, nor about his position in the household. It had all happened very suddenly, but he understood clearly that his absolute cooperation was required. For the time being at least he decided he would play the roles expected of him. The risk of character assassination was too real and plausible to ignore, and the more people that were allowed to share his secrets the greater the danger. So for the time being he'd do his best. If he pleased his mistresses he hoped that ultimately he would gain his freedom again.
Clare went upstairs to her room to make the call. She dialled Lavinia’s number.
“Hi Lavinia. He signed. Yes, isn’t it? And so far he seems quite willing, rather to my surprise. At this very moment he’s laying the table for lunch.”…(pause) “Well I haven’t thought it through. I mean, it’s still sinking in. But something very funny happened, I have to tell you. You know Damien? Yeah, him. That’s right. Him. He came round, unexpectedly. We made Bobby – I mean Maid Bobbi – answer the door. And guess what? He hit on her! I’m not joking. He even gave her his number and made her promise to ring him so he can, what did he say? Oh, yeah, so he can “do something” for her. I know what that means. Bastard! Well, we’d done her makeup and everything – she really looked the part. I know…isn’t it? Don’t worry, I will. I haven’t thought it through yet, but I’m gonna make such a fool of him, an even bigger one than he already is! Yeah, course, tell them. They’d appreciate the joke…”(pause) “Next Saturday? No, not particularly, why? Oh, I see. The same girls he saw yesterday? No problem…course not. Yeah? What did they do?”...(pause) “What? Really? Really?” She let out a little scream of laugher. “Are you serious? He actually did that? Every drop? Oh my god that’s so… A video? Send it to me, will you? I have to see that! Great! And listen, Lavinia, let me take him there on Saturday, okay? Yeah, I need to meet these girls. Yes, absolutely. Oh, thanks, got it. I’ll save it for later. It can go on the flash drive with the others. I’m starting a collection. You do? I know, it is…but it’s fun. Look, I have to go – mum’s friends will be here in a while and I need make sure the maid knows what to do. Speak soon, Lavinia. Bye for now…bye.”
Her eyes were sparkling as she returned to the lounge. She didn’t, however, let on to Bobby what Lavinia had told her. Today was all about his new job as the housemaid. Wendy’s friends had been surprised to receive invitations to lunch and dinner at such short notice, but when they asked what the occasion was, she had simply replied with, “Oh, nothing special – just a few drinks and some good conversation”.
Bobby had laid the table quite as instructed.
“Let me see… Excellent, Bobbi. Now, you’ll serve the guests – right side, remember. Just bring what I tell you to, and mum will tell you which wine to open. They’re all lined up in the fridge. Open the bottles in the kitchen, hold them in a napkin to serve, and remember just to half fill the glass. When you’re not required, stand quietly to one side… Look, about here, so if you need to go into the kitchen you won’t disturb the table. Hold your hands neatly at the waist, so… Lower your eyes. Always reply with a “madam” or a miss. You can call me miss. Be very, very polite. Try not to spill anything. Don’t be nervous. I won’t punish you too severely on your first day. Okay?”
“Yes miss.”
“Good. Now let’s have a look at you. Try and keep your apron straight if you can. And what’s with these tights?”
“They keep slipping down, miss.”
“They look a mess. Let’s get them off. Here, I’ll do your shoes…”
So the tights were discarded. Clare locked on his pumps again.
“That’s better. I notice you’ve cooled own a bit. Just as well. Try to keep that little thing of your from getting too playful, won’t you? I don’t want him to distract you from your duties…”
“I’ll try, miss…”
“Good girl. Now, what else… Ah, yes. I don’t expect you to be able to curtsey, though I’m going to teach you, but you can do a little bow. Try one… Not bad… Just from the waist, lean forward about twenty degrees, then back… That’s it. Good.”
“Miss…? What are Miss Wendy’s friends like…?”
“Oh, they’re all nice…easy going and friendly. You’ll see, anyway. But be prepared. They’re bound to bombard you with questions.”
“Oh.”
“Of course! They have no idea we have a maid. But I’m sure you’ll charm the pants off them.”
Bobby looked alarmed.
“Yes - maybe literally!” added Clare, with a raise of the eyebrows.
Wendy had just descended to the foot of the stairs when the doorbell rang. She peeped out of the window, and went to open the door.
“Mum! No. Use the maid. That’s what she’s for.”
“Of course, dear. Sorry. I haven’t got used to it yet. It’s Sam.”
“Bobbi – answer the door. Quickly – don’t keep her waiting.”
Bobby hurried to the door, opened it, and smiled.
“Good morning, madam. Can I help you?”
Sam – a woman in her mid-thirties with long, straight, dyed-blonde hair, black wet-look leggings, black ankle boots and a tight black jumper, looked at him blank-faced, opened her mouth, and managed to say, “pardon”?
“Can I help you?” He opened the door wider. “Have you come to see miss Wendy?”
“Yes… Who are you, sweetie?”
“I’m maid Bobbi. Please come in.”
She entered sideways, partly to accommodate a large pink carrier and a hefty black handbag with gold accessories on a gold chain, partly to facilitate a closer examination of this unexpected personage. Wendy greeted her from the lounge door.
“Sam! Thanks so much for coming at such short notice! Come through.” They embraced and kissed. “How was your drive?”
“Oh, fine, fine, thanks, Wendy. Clare, darling! How nice to see you!” Another embrace, several more loud kisses. “But… “ She lowered her voice. “For a moment I thought I must have come to the wrong house. You have a maid? What’s going on?”
“Bobbi’s mine,” grinned Clare. “I am her official guardian.”
“You employ a maid, Clare?”
“No, Sam – I own her! She’s mine. She’s contracted to me as an unpaid servant, through her official guardian, who needed someone to take her on as a domestic. It only happened today.”
“Is that possible…?”
“Bobbi? Come here and let me introduce you. This is Sam. Sam, Bobbi.”
“Pleased to meet you, madam…” He did a little bow, as he had been tutored. Any nervousness he had felt had largely evaporated, and being the centre of attention was resuscitating his erection, which had started to swell again and press against his tummy.
“And to meet you, Bobbi….” She looked at him closely, and then, with widening eyes, at Clare.
“It’s a boy…?” she mouthed, silently.
“Yes,” laughed Clare. “sometimes. But at the moment he’s our maid Bobbi.”
“Oh…!” cried Sam, “now it makes sense! But Bobbi, you’re very pretty, darling. And your outfit! Gorgeous! Do you like having Clare as your mistress? I bet you do.”
Bobby lapped it up. Compliments always made him hard. “Yes, madam, very much. I hope I can be useful to Miss Clare and miss Wendy, though I’m very inexperienced as yet…”
“Oh my god, he’s so… Sorry, I mean, she’s so sweet!” She kissed him on the cheek, and gave him an affectionate hug. He heard her little gasp of surprise as his bloated coc-k became sandwiched between their bodies. She held him just a moment or two longer than would have been appropriate, probably distracted by the shock.
“Goodness…yes…so charming…” She hesitated, awkwardly.
“Are you all right, Sam?” enquired Wendy.
“Oh, yes, thank you…just a little faint, perhaps, Quite warm, today. I’ll just sit down, if that’s…”
“Oh, please. Sorry, I should have offered you a seat. Bobbi, get Sam a drink, would you? Your usual? I’ve got a fan upstairs somewhere - I’ll just go and find it…” She hurried off upstairs.
“Thank you…” called Sam after her, weakly.
“Gin and tonic, Bobbi,” said Clare. “Plenty if ice. Lemons are in the fruit bowl. Good girl.”
Bobby was back within two minutes, the glass on a tray. He stood next to her chair and bent slightly forwards.
“Your drink, madam…”
“Thank you Bobbi…” Sam took the glass, and placed it on the table to her left. She turned back, and found herself staring at Bobbi’s bare legs, disappearing under the neatly-stitched hem of his swaying skirt. Flustered, she blurted, “such a pretty dress!” Clare seized her chance.
“Isn’t it? Let me show you what lovely material it is. Here.” She positioned herself behind Bobby, so he couldn’t back away from Sam’s chair. She put her arms round him from behind, so that he had to clutch the tray to his chest, then took hold of the hem of his dress and lifted it slightly as if to show Sam. “Feel it, Sam…”
“Sam took it in her fingers. “Oh, such good quality…”
“And there’s one layer of crinoline to keep it light and bouncy… See?”
She lifted his skirt right up, presenting Sam with a perfect view of his panties. Within inches of Sam’s nose, Bobby’s tumescent pen-is stood there, straining against its confinement. The fine, translucent latex was moulded to the shape of his erection; the central band holding the shaft vertical was clearly visible, and the bulging glans with its cleft perfectly outlined. Seeing Sam’s eyes widen, Bobby squirmed with embarrassment, compressing his thighs and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, which only served to make it slip and slide about against his tummy.
He was gripping the tray tightly now, and his ears were turning red, but Clare had no mercy. She whispered in his ear.
“Bobbi – here, take your skirt – quickly now. Hold it right up for Sam and don’t move.”
Obediently, Bobby took the sides of the hem, allowing the tray to lodge between his skirt and his chest.
“Don’t move, right?”
He nodded slowly. His face was a picture. The prim, smiling little maid was no more. His cheeks were burning, his eyes tearful, and his head turned to one side, unable to face the lady whose respect he had hoped to earn. Clare squatted down by Sam’s knees, and smiled cheekily up at her.
“What do you think? Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Sam had overcome her initial confusion, and was enjoying the game. “It’s lovely, Clare. Really very impressive. Does it often get like this?”
“All the time. Any excuse. Watch.”
She extended a finger and gave the head a little push sideways. Little bubbles chased each other about under the latex.
“Gosh!” exclaimed Sam.
“See how juicy it gets? Have a go.”
“Can I?”
“Of course. He’s yours too, today.”
Sam gingerly used a finger to push it back. The bubbles retraced their course. Bobby pressed his thighs together even more firmly, but the only effect it had was that his coc-k seemed to quiver, and pushed itself a little further up his tummy. She gasped, and giggled hysterically. Bobby emitted a faint whimper.
“We have to be careful,” grinned Clare. “It wouldn’t take much….”
They laughed, but Sam seemed unable to take her eyes off it. Her cheeks were flushed, and she licked her lips thoughtfully.
“Is it difficult for you, Bobbi? I mean, when it gets…like this?” she asked, without looking up.
“What? No!” he blurted, sulkily. He was feeling thoroughly humiliated.
“Don’t be rude!” cried Clare, giving him a slap on the leg.
“Oh, it’s all right, Clare,” smiled Sam. “It’s not his fault he’s got such an unruly one. I don’t know how he keeps his hands off it, to be honest…” She sighed, and bit her lower lip absent-mindedly.
At that moment Wendy returned, holding the fan. Bobby felt relieved, and wondered if she’d tell them off.
“Hello? What are you two up to?”
“Sam’s just admiring Bobbi’s dress.”
Wendy burst out laughing. “Admiring what? And are you impressed, Sam?”
Sam looked up and smiled. “Very impressed. Nicest one I’ve seen for a long time. Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on one like that!”
“Looks like you already have!”
To Bobby’s chagrin, they all fell about laughing. His recent fleeting fantasy of actually becoming a professional housemaid, earning respect and admiration, evaporated under such coarse humour. Instead he was being used as a mere object of amusement and ridicule, even having his most private parts exposed, casually handled and made fun of! He couldn’t bear it. He stamped his foot, dropped his skirt, and clumped off into the kitchen. The ladies exchanged glances. Clare rose and went after him. She found him standing facing the wall.
“Bobbi. Bobbi! Turn around. At once, or I’ll get the cane to you!”
He complied, reluctantly. He was frowning and his eyes glistened.
“Now listen to me, young lady. You can’t behave like that. You’re a servant and you do what you’re told and you do it cheerfully. Now you need to go and apologise to Sam at once, or I’ll get the cane and I’ll put you across a chair and cane you on your bottom right in front of her. Choose now. You have five seconds. One, two, three…”
“I’m sorry, miss…!” Tears welled up and trickled down his cheeks. “I’ll apologise…”
“Right. Now listen to me. If you think that’s the greatest indignity you’ll have to suffer, think again. That was nothing. If you want to be in service, it goes with the job. Understand?”
“Yes, miss…”
“Now come here…”
She wrapped her arms round him, patted his back, and gave him a soft kiss on the neck. He didn’t see it, but her face was contorted with suppressed amusement. With an effort she recovered her seriousness.
“Now go and make your apology.”
She listened from the kitchen as he abased himself before Sam.
“I’m r-really s-sorry, madam. I-it’s my first day, and…(sob) I don’t know all the rules yet…”
“There, there, Bobbi. No offence taken. Pay attention to your mistress and you’ll soon learn the ropes. You’re a smart b… I mean, girl.
-
Chapter 42.
Steph and Lydia arrived together. The animated conversation they were having outside the front door ceased abruptly when they clapped eyes on Bobby. He had recovered from his strop, and taken Clare’s advice to heart. Being a real maid wasn’t the easiest job.
“Please come in, ladies… Welcome. May I take your coats?”
“Oh, thank you, miss!” responded Lydia with exaggerated politeness. “What a charming maid you have, Wendy…”
“How are you, girls?”
As Bobby headed off to the spare room with the coats, Lydia took Wendy’s arm.
“Who’s that cutie, darling?”
Lydia had brown eyes and studiedly tousled black hair. She wore a loose orange jumper, short black pleated skirt and calf-length boots.
“She’s not really your maid, is she?” added Steph, the taller of the two. She had auburn hair, piercing blue eyes, and a slightly Roman nose, and wore a long blue dress, boots and a lot of jewellery. “It’s one of your friends, Clare, dressed up. Right?”
“Not quite, Steph. No, it’s really our maid. Well, to be precise, my maid. Here, I’ll even show you the contract.”
The processed into the lounge. Sam was still sitting sipping her drink.
“Hi girls!”
“Hi Sam.”
“Hi Sam. You’ve met the maid, then…”
“Yes, we’re already good friends, in fact,” laughed Sam.
Wendy retrieved the contract and passed it to Clare, who handed it to Steph. Steph ran her eyes over it. “Bobby? She’s a boy?”
“I thought it was!” cried Lydia. “But I didn’t want to say in case I was wrong.”
“How… I mean, how come you have a boy, dressed as a maid, and he really is your maid….?
“It’s a long story.”
“I mean, does he want to be?”
“Shh.”
Bobby returned, head down, and went and stood quietly by the door, awaiting instructions.
“Bobbi,” said Clare, “ask the ladies if they’d like a drink and attend to them, please.”
“Yes, miss. Er, ladies, can I get you drinks?”
“Oh, thank you Bobbi,” smiled Lydia. “A glass of white wine, please, and here – put this bottle in the fridge while you’re there.”
“I’ll have a gin and lime,” added Steph.
“Yes, madam. I’ll bring some snacks too. Excuse me.”
He took the bottle and disappeared into the kitchen. The ladies sat down.
“He’s so sweet!” whispered Steph. “Clare, you’re so lucky! Is he going to live in, or what?”
“Maybe eventually. I’m going to train him up whenever I have him.”
“He has other talents, too,” added Wendy.
“Such as?”
“He’s learning to be a boot boy. You know, cleaning and polishing ladies boots.”
“He can do mine anytime,” cried Lydia.
“I’m sure he love to…”
“I love his outfit,” said Steph, in a low voice. “All that rubber… I mean, the gloves alone are so sexy…”
“Wait till you see his panties, darling,” smiled Wendy.
“Yeah,” grinned Sam. “I’ve had a sneak preview and I can tell you, there’s quite a lot to see!”
“Meaning…?”
“Later, Steph…”
“And the collar,” said Lydia. “Like a pet… I mean, you could put him on a leash and take him for a walk…”
“Clare’s already had him on a leash, haven’t you dear?” said Wendy, with a laugh.
“Yup. But I haven’t taken him for a walk, yet. I shall, though…”
“Shh.. I think he’s coming back,” whispered Wendy. “Treat him as if he’s a girl, though, please…”
Bobby came in with the drinks and three bowls of snacks on a tray. As he bent forward to hand Lydia her wine, Steph got a brief glimpse of his latex panties. Her face lit up, and she gave Wendy a thumbs-up. He turned, and she quickly became serious again.
“Thank you, Bobbi,” she said, as she took her gin.
He put the bowls down on the coffee table, and turned.
“Can I get anyone else something?”
“Yes, Bobbi,” said Clare, curtly. “Sam, another? Yes, and mum and I will have wine.”
“Yes, miss Clare.”
Clare had had an idea. Bobby was being annoyingly perfect, and what she wanted was an opportunity to assert her authority in front of her mother’s friends. She fingered the remote which he had tucked in the top of her boot. She waited till he was handing Sam her drink, then gave it a touch. Bobby jumped. Though Sam managed to take her drink before it got spilled, both glasses of wine toppled over on the tray, which overflowed, spilling cold wine straight onto Sam’s lap! She screamed and jumped up, as Bobby staggered back, trying to keep the tray level.
“Bobbi!” cried Clare, feigning surprise. “What the hell…?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whimpered. “I’ll get a cloth.”
He dumped the tray on the floor and ran to the kitchen, returning instantly with a cloth. He fell to his knees and started mopping at Sam’s leggings. She had put her drink down on the side table, and was dabbing her jumper with a tissue. She was angry and didn’t mince her words.
“You careless little bitch! Look what you’ve done! These leggings are brand new! Why did you do that?”
He could hardly explain… “I’m sorry, madam…”
“Get your hands off me! Are you trying to grope me or something?”
Wendy and the others were trying to keep straight faces. Lydia had grabbed a box of tissues from the dining table, and was helping her friend get dried off. For Clare things had worked out even better than she had hoped. Now she was fully justified in disciplining her maid in front of everyone. She rose, fetched her cane from the dresser, and placed her hands on her hips. Bobby was still on his knees. She adopted the tone injured patience, like a teacher with a habitually misbehaving child.
“Right, young lady. Get up – quickly – and go and stand in the corner till I’m ready for you. Go on. Really, you have a long way to go, Bobbi, you really do. And I can see you’re going to need constant reminders.”
“Training a maid from scratch isn’t an easy task, is it dear?” suggested Wendy.
“Indeed not, mother. I doubt this one little cane will be enough. Perhaps I should ask Lavinia for a good stout riding crop…”
She waited patiently for Sam to restore herself to some sort of order, and for everyone to be supplied with fresh drinks. She wanted to keep Bobby on tenterhooks as long as she could. Then she had everyone seat themselves in a row, on the sofa and in the armchairs, so they could witness the maid’s chastisement in comfort. She was looking forward to it – not just to demonstrating her authority, but to the process itself. She had experienced a thrill of pleasure the last time she had given him a stroke of the cane, and the thought of making him squirm with pain had already got her mildly aroused. At the last minute she decided that, if she was going to cane him, she should make it into a proper demonstration. So she fetched his accessories from the drawer.
The audience watched with interest as she buckled on his wrist cuffs, with his arms in front of him, then his ankle cuffs.
“M-miss Clare…please…You know I couldn’t help it…”
“Quiet! Not another word. I can see I’m going to have to teach you a proper lesson…”
She picked up the gag. “Open your mouth. Do it!” She thrust in the ball, threaded the strap through the back loop, and buckled it up tight. “There…that’s better…”
His shiny peach lips had been forced into a nice round “O” around the blue rubber ball, and his eyes had become round and scared in sympathy. Clare pushed another armchair into the middle of the room, and made him bend over the back. She padlocked one end a length of fine chain to the link on his wrist cuffs, and skated the rest under the chair. Then she went round behind, pulled it taut, and padlocked it to the link on his ankle cuffs. She stood up and regarded him with satisfaction. He was bent right over, unable to move or to speak. His skirt was sticking up revealing his tight little rubber panties. Lydia was the first to notice the faint ring in the rubber on the seat of his panties, where the stalk of the plug was attached. She turned her head and whispered “butt plug” to Steph, who peered and nodded back. Clare smiled. She tucked Bobby’s skirt under the apron ties to keep it out of the way. Her audience looked on expectantly.
“You look like a real dominatrix, Clare,” observed Steph. “What with those boots and tights and everything.”
“You look hot,” added Lydia.
“Darling,” said Wendy, “where are your leather riding gloves?”
“Good idea, mum. I’ll get them. They’re in the hall.”
She slipped out, and came back pulling on a pair of short, fine, black leather gloves.
“That’s better. Would you like a drink before you start?”
“Oh, thanks, mum.”
“Peach vodka?”
“Great.”
“How many strokes do you think he deserves?” asked Lydia.
“Good question.” She bent over and patted his cheek. “How many do you deserve, Bobbi? Six? Twelve? More?”
Bobby made protesting noises and shook his head as well as he could.
“Sam, you’re the injured party. How many?”
Sam eyed the cane with anticipation. “Can I help?”
“Of course! Let’s see how it goes, shall we. “Oh, thanks, mum…”
Wendy had brought her drink. Clare sipped it and smiled. “Mmm… So refreshing…”
Bobby fidgeted. Clare put down the drink and swished the cane. He tensed. Sam giggled.
“Ready, everyone?” asked Clare, looking at the ladies.
“Can we film it?”
“Please do,” said Wendy. “Our maid’s first proper punishment. The first of many, I think…”
Clare compressed her lips. She stood opposite the onlookers. She raised her arm, tested the trajectory a couple of time, then brought it down as hard as she could on his bottom!
Bobby emitted an audible squeak and jerked violently. But the armchair was an old, solidly-constructed one, and it didn’t move an inch. As Bobby subsided into muffled whimpers, Clare put down the cane, pulled on the chain to test its tightness, then knelt down behind Bobby’s trembling legs, undid the padlock, shortened it by a few links, and resecured it. Then she resumed her position, and laid the second stroke as close as she could to the first. His whole body shuddered, and a strange sound, a desperate, high-pitched, series of drawn-out sobs, came from somewhere at the back off his throat. Sam was nodding with grim satisfaction, Wendy looked on with an expression of approval, even pride in her daughter’s strictness, while Steph and Lydia continued to film with fascinated attention. Clare herself was savouring every second. It her mind she was repaying all the rejections and insults she had received from boys in recent years. She was relishing the feeling of absolute power, physical now as well as psychological. Her cheeks were flushed, she was breathing hard, and the whole situation – the helplessness of her victim, the ladies’ rapt attention, her outfit, and the feeling of her new high boots gripping her thighs – were contriving to heighten her sexual arousal: she could feel her nipples stiff against the lining of her dress – she wore no bra – and her panties were moist with excitement. At the same time, however, she was feeling frustrated; if it hadn’t been for her audience she would have interpolated the strokes of the cane with strokes of her pussy! She prepared to deliver another, running the end of the cane slowly up Bobby’s bare legs, making him shiver with fear.
The third stroke brought forth a chorus of even louder sobs, and violent squirming of the posterior. Clare thought she should check the status of his erection, and casually slipped her hand between the back of the chair and the front of Bobby’s panties. The loops were still holding it firmly in place, but it was soft and squishy now, and squelched faintly as she fondled it. She played with it until she felt it beginning to swell again, then removed her hand and caressed his burning bottom, making him wince. She laughed. No pleasure for him today. Why should he enjoy himself when she was forced to be chaste? Then she had an idea.
“I’m just going to get a drink of water. Sam? Want to have a go?”
“Yes please!” She jumped up, and Clare handed her the cane.
“Wait a second – I’ll be right back.”
She went into the kitchen. Her mother was preparing some sort of dish for dinner, and she had remembered there was bag of baby courgettes on the counter. Quickly she selected a nicely-shaped one, washed and dried it, and with a “Won’t be a sec!” to Sam, pulled down the front of her tights and panties, and pushed it, blunt end first, into her pussy!
It slipped in so easily, and felt so good! She pulled up her panties and tights, too a deep breath, and returned to the lounge. It moved inside her as he walked, disseminating such pleasant sensations that she couldn’t suppress a gasp of delight.
“Are you all right, darling? You look flushed.”
“Fine, mum. Hot work, caning naughty maids!”
“Yes, your ears are bright red…”
“Oh, really…?” She touched one ear awkwardly, but couldn’t think of anything to say.
“So…Clare… Do you mind if I….?”
“Oh, Sam… No, of course not… Just a second….”
Clare noticed his saliva was dripping from the ball gag, so she mopped it up with a tissue and put a cloth under it. The she sat down in Sam’s chair to watch her efforts.
Sam’s first stroke missed Bobby’s bottom, and landed across his thighs, making him moan with pain, and raising a read weal on his flesh.
“Ooops…” Sam looked up guiltily.
“Don’t worry,” Clare reassured her. Legs are legitimate targets, anyway. Try again.”
The next stroke landed fair and square across his buttocks. Bobby quivered and sobbed.
“Bullseye! Well done!”
Clare was enjoying watching. She pressed her behind into the cushion, forcing the courgette in as far as it would go, and discovered that by rocking gently back and forth she could make it feel as if it were gently fuc-king her. By the time she had watched Sam deliver, albeit rather hesitantly, another three strokes, her panties were wet and she was on the verge of orgasm. She rose.
“Let me continue, Sam. How many’s that? My three, your five…eight. Another four would be fair.”
She took the cane, strode forward, and delivered a stinging blow, making Bobby do an odd little static dance, accompanied by a series of little pleading whinnies. She bit her lip and, squeezing her buttocks together as hard as she could to drive the courgette deep inside, thrashed him again and again until a wave of indescribable ecstasy exploded inside her. With a cry, she dropped the cane and sank gasping to the floor, and sat there shuddering with pleasure until her climax was spent.
-
Chapter 43
When her mind finally cleared, she could hear Bobby still snivelling. She looked at the ladies. They were staring at her in astonishment. There was no way she could have concealed or excused the fact she had just c-um, and c-um hard. She smiled sheepishly, and pulled herself to her feet. She needed to change.
“Excuse me. I’ll be back. The padlock key’s on the table. You should let him up now. I think he’s got the message.”
No-one replied. Steph and Lydia exchanged surprised looks. Sam looked in a state of shock. Wendy simply said, “Goodness,” picked up the key, and began to free Bobby. Her friends conducted a whispered conversation.
“She had an orgasm – right?”
“Definitely!”
“That’s so…sexy!”
“Seriously kinky. Just from caning the maid…”
“You were right, Steph… You know, about her being like a dominatrix. Imagine getting so aroused just through thrashing someone…”
“She should do it professionally if she enjoys it that much…”
“She should…”
“Poor Bobbi… How many strokes was that?”
“She must have hit him seven or eight times at the end…”
“Wow. Is he all right, Wendy?”
Bobby had been released and was standing there rubbing his bottom. “Oww… That hurts…” he said, slowly.
They burst out laughing, partly from relief. He obviously wasn’t seriously hurt.
“I think the rubber panties helped,” remarked Lydia.
“I’ll get you some cold cream, darling,” said Wendy, hurrying off upstairs. She returned with a large white pot, a towel, a packet of baby wipes, and a box of surgical gloves. Lydia took charge. She made him kneel, and despite his protests eased down his panties until his coc-k slipped out of its upper retaining loop, after which she gave him a good wipe over, coc-k and all, just as if he were a baby, and made him lie face down on the towel. His bottom was criss-crossed with red stripes. She took a scoop of cold cream and massaged it gently into his skin, making him squirm, not with pain now, but with relief. Soon they were all helping, taking it in turns. Steph noticed the marks of the cane extended to the sides of his buttocks, and despite spirited resistance the ladies turned him over and extended their attention to his flanks, and then his tummy. The inevitable result was that his erection began to grow until it was standing there, proud and straight, before their eyes. A moment’s discussion resulted in the unanimous opinion that it too would benefit from a gentle application of cold cream, with the result that when Clare returned to the lounge she found her maid surrounded by a circle of women attending to its welfare, with minimal resistance from its owner.
“Excuse me! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Oh, er…Clare! There you are,” began Lydia. “We were…er…yes, we were just trying to cool him off…”
A large bead of pre-c-um oozed from the tip and trickled down the shaft.
“That’s enough. He c-ums when I say so, and only when I say so.”
The ladies looked disappointed.
Clare knelt, wiped it clean with a baby wipe, produced a condom, and rolled it on. It was long, with a narrow reinforced lip, which she snapped into place behind his balls.
“That’ll keep his juices under control. Now…”
She slid his panties up, feeding his stiff coc-k through its shaft loop, and adjusted the waistband. She unpinned the back of his skirt.
“Now get up, Bobbi, and stand in your place. It’s time for you to serve us lunch. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, and you’ll be a little more careful from now on.” She unbuckled his ball gag and popped it out of his mouth. “There. Now be polite, and careful, is that clear?” He nodded, unhappily. “Good. I don’t think a second caning so soon after the first would be as easy to bear. Ladies, let us be seated.”
-
Chapter 44
They ate a cold lunch, and drank freely, and soon any lingering reticence had been washed away. Wendy sat at the head of the table. On her right were Steph and Sam, in that order, and on her left, Lydia and Clare. The conversation flowed as easily as the wine, and the ladies began to take liberties with the maid. Bobby was pouring Sam a glass of Chablis when he felt her hand on the back of his thigh. She stroked it softly.
“How’s your bottom, now, Bobbi? Is it still sore?” she enquired in an undertone.
“Only a little, madam.”
“Ooh, good. Nothing like cold cream, is there?” She lowered her voice further. “Pity your mistress came back when she did. We were going to give you…” – here he hand travelled up his leg, and her fingers pushed between his upper thighs – “…a little treat!” She kept Clare in view out of the corner of her eye in case she noticed, but she was chatting to Lydia and showed no apparent interest. So Sam turned her hand upwards and gentle cupped his balls. Bobby flinched, but obeyed Clare’s instructions not to react. He was a maid, and a maid must be ready for anything.
Clare of course was fully aware of what was going on right opposite her, but this was much more what she had had in mind. She knew that once her mum’s friends had had a few drinks they’d be tempted to tease the maid, and she wanted to see how far they’d be prepared to go and how far Bobby’s enforced self-discipline would stretch. It would be great training for him, and great fun for her.
Sam’s wandering hand was also visible to Steph. She was getting jealous, so she said loudly,
“Bobbi? Bring me a clean glass and some red, please.”
Bobby was relieved to have another order which allowed him to tear himself away from Sam. But it was out of the frying pan into the fire, because when he returned and stood by Steph, preparing to pour her wine, she “accidentally” dropped a fork, and in bending over to pick it up contrived to slide her hand up the front of his skirt and fondle his coc-k, which, to her great satisfaction, (and probably largely thanks to Sam’s fingerings), turned out to be satisfyingly firm and plump. She had time to give it an affectionate squeeze before she resumed her seat.
“Drop something, Steph?” said Clare, breaking off in the middle of her conversation with Lydia.
“Oh, er…yes…just my fork…” she replied, colouring slightly.
“In future let the maid get it. It’s her job, not the guest’s. Bobbi – get Steph a clean fork at once.”
“Yes, miss.”
“And would you bring me some more olives, Bobbi?” put in Lydia, who wanted her turn at groping the maid. When he returned, she deliberately leaned towards Clare, so Bobby would have to go to the other side, where she could fleetingly slip her hand us his skirt. Without making it obvious what she was doing she was only able to touch his rear; but that was fine, because what interested her was the little circular area in the seat of his panties. She located it, and gave it a press.
Bobby squeaked and jerked upright, nearly dropping the little dish of olives. Fortunately for him he managed to recover himself, and placed it on the table. Everyone had stopped talking and stared at him.
“Bobbi!” snapped Clare, “what’s that for? One more strange noise out of you and you’ll be straight over the back of that chair again!”
“Ooh, yes please…” remarked Steph quietly, with a naughty grin.
Clare was secretly happy. She fingered the remote. One touch on that and he would squeak like a trapped rat, and then she could do, well, pretty much anything she liked to him… She took another gulp of wine. She was beginning to feel a little tipsy. “You’d better look out, Bobby,” she said to herself. And then to Bobby, “Go on – back to your place. We’ll call you when we need you.”
Sam had opened up a new topic of conversation.
“A friend of mine just told me something incredible. No, but it’s true. She doesn’t tell lies. She found out by pure accident her bloke was hitting on some young girl from his work. So she started checking his phone. He was going to some conference, and he saw she was going to, and they planned to do it while they were there. Her first instinct was to wreck his place and dump him, but then she saw something online… And it gave her a much better idea…”
“Which was?”
“She got one of those chastity devices? Know what I mean? Like a little cage you put on a guy’s coc-k?”
“Yes, Steph, we know what a chastity device is…”
“Oh, shut up, Sam… Anyway, the night before he was due to leave, she goes down in the bed – he was used to her going down on him in the middle of the night – she goes down, and manages to get this thing on him, and locks it, and then she gets up and fuc-ks off home!”
“And what happened?”
“He rang her at six the next morning going berserk! He threatened, then begged and pleaded. She had some fun with him, then finally agreed to bring the key to him at lunchtime – they were due to leave at two – if he would confess and promise in writing never to contact her again. Of course he was so relieved. But she went in the middle of the morning, walked into his open plan office, and, holding up the key on a big red ribbon, called out to the girl, “Here’s the key to David’s chastity device. Enjoy. But keep him locked up when you’re not with him – he absolutely can’t be trusted, you know.” She tossed it over and walked out.”
“And did she unlock him?”
“Apparently she took the key, went to the loo, and flushed it away. It would have been too humiliating to go with him after that! What happened to him, I don’t know…”
“Brilliant!”
Clare smiled mischievously. “That’s interesting. Don’t you think… Maybe it would be the perfect solution.”
“For what?” asked Wendy.
“As a training tool…for a boy maid who needs keeping in check.” She looked slyly at Bobby, whose eyes had widened with alarm. “Think about it. One, he wouldn’t get distracted if he were amongst girls or ladies. Two, they wouldn’t be so inclined to interfere with him – he’d just be a maid to serve them, a sexless being in a dress. Three, it would be the ultimate control aid. If he did his job well, it could be removed occasionally to allow him…some relief. If he screwed up, it also would remain…(she laughed)… screwed up!”
All eyes turned towards Bobby. He looked most uncomfortable. He didn't say anything, but thanks to Nicole he had already experienced that particular form of pleasure deprivation.
“If you’re thinking about Bobbi, I think it would be a shame,” said Lydia. She’s so nice just as she is…”
“Maybe Lydia…if you want a quick grope… But in certain situations… For instance, I haven’t told you this, but my so-called boyfriend – he isn’t really, by the way – he called here and started hitting on Bobby.”
“What? You’re joking…”
“No. With him it’s literally “anything in a skirt”. He wants his family to “employ” her – code for him having sex with her basically, or at least abusing her somehow.”
“He thinks he’s a girl?” gasped Sam
“Yup. Fooled him easy.”
“So…what are you going to do?” said Lydia, excited.
“He wants her to ring him this week. So she will… And I’m thinking we’ll pretend she’s alone in the house, and see what transpires…”
“No, miss…please…”
“Shush, Bobbi! What have I told you about not speaking until you’re spoken to?”
“But…”
“Where’s that cane…?”
Bobby shut his mouth tight.
Lydia looked thoughtful. A smile spread slowly over her face. “Suppose…he tries something…?”
“Well, he’ll be disappointed, won’t he?”
“And extremely embarrassed!”
“Quite. I’d be so happy to see that, after the way he’s treated me. Such a condescending bastard. I just have to work out the details…”
-
Chapter 45
Bobby was in great demand, mainly as a wine waiter. He held the chilled bottles in a napkin, and kept the opened ones in ice buckets to keep them cold. The covert fondling was becoming unashamed groping, and when Sam shouted “Bobbi! Show us your panties!” there was a chorus of approval. Bobby, flustered, headed back into the kitchen on the pretence of putting wine into the fridge.
“Clare… sweetie… Make him show us his little panties, won’t you? I wanna see how that nice little coc-k of his is getting along… Maybe it’s lonely…” slurred Steph.
“Yeah, come on, Clare… where’s the floor show…?”
Clare herself didn’t usually drink so much wine, and she was feeling receptive to the girls’ requests, especially as she wanted to try out the anal vibrator.
“Okay, girls… Tell you what… I agree, but….” (Shouts of “hooray!”) “But… No touching. No touchy. Geddit?” (“Nooo…!”) “Yes! But I’m gonna show you…our special…er, housemaid dock…yeah, that’s it…. Wait… Bobby? Come here… Now! “
Bobby appeared in the doorway, frowning.
“What, miss?”
“What? How dare you!”
“But, miss…”
“Silence!”
“Miss. I haven’t had anything to eat or drink apart from a couple of snacks. Even a maid has to be fed…”
Everyone fell silent.
“You haven’t…” Clare realised it was true. In her normal state she would have sent him back into the kitchen to make himself a plate of food. But she was drunk, give or take a glass, and she suddenly became so emotional Bobby at first thought she was being sarcastic.
“Oh my god, I didn’t realise… I’m so sorry. Mum…”
“I’ll make him some food. You stay there…”
“You poor thing…” Clare had her arm round him now. Mum will be back in a moment. Come here, sweetie.”
She sat back down and actually pulled him onto her lap, and started feeding him from her own plate as if he were a child! Then Wendy came back with more food, and Lydia poured him a glass of wine, and… Well, for the next ten minutes everyone just sat around watching him stuff his face. It was during that ten minutes that Clare recollected what she was about to do. So as soon as he was finished, she got him to his feet and set about cuffing his hands behind his back. That done, she and Wendy half led, half dragged him to the wall behind Sam and Steph, and with Wendy’s help attached his wrist cuffs and his collar to the staples. The ladies looked on with approval. His mistress had treated him nicely, and now he would repay her by being the butt of their jokes! With a satisfied smile she wiped his face with a baby wipe, then picked up the big safety pin she had used for his spanking, and pinned the front of his skirt to the middle of his chest.
“There, ladies. Bobbi’s panties, ready for inspection.” She stood back. “Ooh, what were you doing in the kitchen, you naughty boy…?”
His engorged member was straining against the latex, bulging either side of the shaft loop. The glans was swollen and nudging at the waistband. In his embarrassment he shifted from one foot to the other, and if he was doing a little walk that took him nowhere, and as he did so the head twitched and slid a little from side to side. The ladies just stood and started.
“C-can I have a quick feel, Clare,” asked Lydia.
“You know what I said…” she murmured, distractedly. Then, “oh go on, then…but be very gentle…”
Lydia approached and, with her eyes on Bobby’s face, took the head between finger and thumb. He squirmed.
“No! Don’t do that!” he cried.
“Clare, darling,” said Wendy, “I think you should…you know…” She made a gesture towards her mouth.
“Oh, his gag. Of course…”
“Oh my god, Clare, it’s so hard…and so hot.”
“Let me get this on him…”
“No! Mmmff….”
“That’s better. Now… Lydia, darling, I think you’d better let go, now…thank you.”
They pulled out their chairs and arranged them in a curved row to get a good view, and sat there in relative silence for a while, sipping their drinks.
“It’s certainly impressive,” said Steph. “And I’ve seen a few…”
“I bet you have,” laughed Sam.
Lydia licked her lips. “Can you imagine…what it would feel like…”
“That's enough, Lydia…” said Wendy.
Clare was smiling excitedly now. She positioned herself by Bobby’s side and turned to face the ladies. In her thigh boots and fishnets she looked like a ring-mistress introducing the next act. She had picked up her cane and used it as a pointer.
“Ladies. Allow me to introduce once again our new maid, Bobbi. But as you now know, Bobbi has a secret identity as a boy, Bobby Tucker. Bobby the boy now stands before you. As you can see, his boyhood stands before you as well.”
As she said this, she prodded it carefully with the end of her cane.
“Now, you can see pretty much all there is to see, right? Here are those pretty pastel blue panties you’ve all been demanding to see. The latex is so fine it’s almost see-through – you can even see the pink tinge of the condom I put on him earlier. However, there’s one thing you can’t see. These are no ordinary maid’s panties. Bobby’s outfits are supplied by his aunt Nicole, and manufactured by Fantastex. These panties have a special built-in accessory…”
Bobby was frowning shaking his head vigorously.
“As I was saying, a built-in accessory – an anal vibrator, a little vibrating egg on a stalk, which can be activated by this simple remote control.”
She slipped it out of the top of her boot and held it up for them to see.
The ladies goggled, delighted.
“It’s actually…inside him?” gasped Lydia, her face breaking into a huge grin.
“Yes. Right inside.”
“Are you going to demonstrate it, Clare?” piped up Sam, eagerly.
“Shortly, yes. Bobbi, please stop fidgeting like that. It won’t do you any good.”
“What’ll happen when you turn it on?” asked Steph.
“I have no idea. I’m as fascinated as you to see the effect. There are ten levels of vibration. Shall we try it on one and see if anything happens?”
“Do it!” they cried in chorus.
Clare clicked the dial round to one and pressed start. Bobby had been squirming against his bonds, but immediately he froze and stiffened.
“He can feel it, see?” said Steph. “Try the next one.”
Clare clicked the dial onto two. At once Bobby began to tug at his tethers. He made a weird protesting noise, and glared at them impotently.
“I don’t think he likes it much,” suggested Sam. “Stick it up to five and see what happens.”
Clare took another gulp of wine. “Yeah. If he doesn’t like it, too bad. He’s just the fuc-king maid, after all. Here we go…three, four, five…”
Bobby started squeaking frantically, and pressing his thighs together, first one way, then the other, until he actually managed to cross his legs completely. They all laughed at his discomfiture – and then Lydia cried, “Look! I can see it vibrating! His coc-k! See?”
They left their chairs and surged forward, squatting or sitting on the floor around their victim. It was true! The vibrator was only on five, and that big coc-k was vibrating so fast it was almost a blur! And Bobby himself? He was going crazy! There were tears in his eyes and his legs were no longer crossed, but he was almost dancing!
“Turn it off! Turn it off! Just for a moment!” cried Sam.
Clare clicked the off button. Bobby hung there, eyes half-closed, chest heaving.
“Wow! What must that feel like…?” said Steph.
“Awesome!” added Lydia.
“Why did you tell me to turn it off, Sam?” asked Clare. “It was pretty cool, what was happening there…”
“Because… Don’t you see? A few seconds more and he would have c-um. Let’s do it again, but slowly, so we can enjoy it. Why don’t you let me have a go?”
“Well, okay, if you think you know best.”
“I do. Wait and see.”
So Sam took over. She started off slowly. Even at low vibes they could feel it in Bobby’s coc-k. They took turns to touch it while Sam turned the power up and down. After a few minutes she’d worked it up to four, which seemed to be the highest level he could bear without c-umming. She then turned it down to three to lull him into a sense of security.
“Right. How’s about we make it pop, girls?” she whispered. “You ready?”
They all nodded excitedly.
“Okay… Here we go!”
She switched it suddenly to eight. Bobby started struggling frantically. He lasted about ten seconds, and then…
It was some orgasm - a jerking, choking, straining, whimpering, shuddering explosion which lasted for the best part of a minute. They watched fascinated as wad after wad of sperm erupted from the tip of his spasming pen-is and filled the condom, making a plump little bubble under the latex. As it subsided, he head fell forward and he sighed deeply through his nose.
They had all been either kneeling or on all fours, getting as close to the action as they could. Now they settled back and sat on the floor, looking at each other.
“That was amazing…!” cried Steph.
“Awesome!” said Lydia, again.
“Cool” remarked Clare.
“Let’s check it out,” said Sam, getting to her feet. “Steph? Hold this.”
She had pulled out the waistband of Bobby’s panties. Steph got up and held it open, while Sam reached inside. She stretched the end of the condom and pinched it to make sure none of the precious sperm escaped, then drew it slowly off the shaft, after which Steph allow the waistband to snap back into place. Sam held it up.
“That’s a pretty good yield, don’t you think? That’s the key. Keep him aroused for as long as possible, then a really thorough milking and a good long climax.”
Lydia closed her fingers around the filled condom and palpated it, making the fluid squelch and bubble inside. “It’s still warm. And so creamy,” she mused.
“Let’s make a sauce!” cried Steph. For our pudding! For our sticky choccy pots!”
“Let’s!”
They went into the kitchen, found a tumbler, and, lowering the filled end of the condom inside, rolled the mouth over the lip. After some discussion they added a white of egg, a spoonful of double cream, and a little blob of condensed milk for sweetness. They tied it off and took turns to squidge it in their hands till the contents were thick and white and creamy. Then they took their choccy pots and headed back to the lounge. They showed their new sauce to Bobby, then Clare used a pin to pierce the teat, and they took it in turns to squirt the sauce onto their desserts. It was delicious!
“It’s so useful to have your own milk cow,” remarked Steph, licking sticky sauce mixed with chocolate off her lips.
“This is better than cream,” said Wendy, stirring it into the chocolate and making white swirls. “I wish we had more.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s lots more in there,” grinned Sam, giving Bobby’s balls a prod. Let’s give him half an hour and try again.”
“Yes. And don’t worry, Bobby. There’ll be plenty for you, too!”
-
Chapter 46
As indeed there was! Bobby spent the afternoon tethered to the wall, providing hours of harmless fun – not to mention exotic coc-ktails - for his mistresses, until it was time for him to serve dinner. After he had attended to them, cleared away and washed up, he took his in the kitchen, like a real Victorian housemaid, and afterwards, completely drained, fell asleep with his head the kitchen table. The ladies took pity on him, and left him to slumber, while Clare expatiated of her plans for the week.
“I’ve been thinking, ladies, about Damien. I want to strike while the iron’s hot. So this is my plan. Bobby will ring him as soon as possible – tomorrow, maybe. He’ll say that Wendy and I will be out one evening this week, if he wants to discuss terms. We’ll get his room ready – the spare room next to my bedroom. We’ll clear it out, spruce it up at bit, and put up a few posters. Bobby will lure him up there. I’ve already spoken to my friend Frederica – she a techie – and she’s come round and install a couple of concealed videocams we can monitor from my bedroom. Mum and I will be hidden there. Then we’ll see what transpires…”
“Ooh, how exciting!” squealed Sam. “Could we…?”
“Sorry, Sam. As much as I’d love to have you along, I would be afraid you might accidentally give the game away. But don’t worry, you’ll definitely get to see the footage if anything funny happens.”
“And…do you think it could…?”
“If Damien doesn’t realise his mistake, I’m sure he’ll make a move of some sort. Probably he’ll try to steal a kiss at least…”
“But what about Bobby? I mean, he’ll just run, won’t he?”
“Don’t worry about him. I’m going to instruct him to go along with whatever happens. He’s very firmly under my thumb, darling. He knows anything short of absolute obedience is liable to result in some very painful, not to mention very public, consequences for him. His aunt Nicole kindly provided me with several of her videos she’s taken of him over the weeks. The very first one would be enough to keep him in line.”
“Really?”
“Oh yes. He’s all done up in this cute boot boy outfit, little pink rubber pants, the lot. Then he stands there all shy and sweet and blushing, and proceeds to play with himself until he explodes in this amazing spectacular climax! It’s true! I’ll show it to you in a minute. He must have been so wound up he couldn’t help himself - but he must have regretted it the moment he came down to earth again. He wouldn’t have any of his friends see that for anything in the world. And there’s others, too…. Rest assured that maid Bobbi will play her part willingly and enthusiastically.”
“Wow… You really do own him, then, Clare…” remarked Lydia.
“I do…me and his aunts…yes. You know…what we’re doing is not just a case of us imposing our will on him. No, we’re also exploiting his deepest feelings, bringing them to the surface. Why do you think he gets in such an aroused state? He’s a slave, all right, but not just to me or to Nicole and the others. He’s also a slave to his fetishes. He may want to escape them, but in the end they are stronger than his conscious desire to resist. And the more they surface, the weaker that resistance becomes…”
“Good!” laughed Lydia. “I love how pretty he looks in his little maid’s outfit.”
“Cute and sexy…” added Steph.
“Oh, I’ve been told he has another one in pink, as well as boot boy outfits. In fact he’s building up quite a wardrobe. He’ll need it though. Lavinia tells me he’s got a couple of engagements coming up in the next week or so. His aunts and I are planning to keep training him until he’s good enough to go professional.”
“Could he do that?” exclaimed Sam with astonishment.
“Why not? Think of all the ladies who’d give anything to have a cute little femboy maid waiting on them, even if only for a few days…”
“That’s right! I’d hire him quick as a flash,” said Lydia.
“I bet you would,” laughed Steph. “But if he were working for you, you’d need to make sure he had a good kneeling mat or a set of knee pads!”
“I really have no idea what you’re implying, Stephanie…”
“I know what you like…”
“Is he still asleep?” asked Sam.
“Yes. Lavinia’s happy for him to stay the night. Would you help me carry him up to bed…?”
Bobby slept like a log, and woke up feeling fresh and rested at six-thirty. He was surprised to find his school clothes folded neatly on the chair. He took a shower, dressed, and when he came down he found Nicole and Lavinia sitting at the kitchen table with Wendy and Clare, drinking coffee.
“Good morning, Bobby. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, thank you, auntie.”
“I’m going to run you to school. Have some breakfast. Wendy’s offered to cook for you, or you can have cereal, or whatever you want. Take your time. You have an hour before we need to leave.”
Clare and his aunts repaired to the lounge while Wendy made him sit and started preparing some scrambled eggs and toast. He could hear the others talking in undertones - about him, no doubt – but he was more interested in eating than paying attention.
“So did your mum’s friends enjoy themselves?” asked Nicole.
“They had a great time. And to be honest, I think Bobby did too. Thank you both for letting me take him on. I’m going to do my best to be a good mistress.”
“I’m sure you will be, Clare,” said Lavinia. “Make sure you enjoy yourself, too, won’t you?”
“Don’t worry. I love it.”
“And in due course,” said Nicole cryptically, “I’m going to show you a certain facility I have, which contains lots of useful and interesting equipment.”
“Really…?”
“Yes. You’ll be able to use it for more intense training sessions. But it’s a secret place that few know about. So have patience.” She smiled. “Now, this week. Let us know when that guy…Damien?”
“Damien, yes.”
“Let us know when that’s coming off. Get some good video. It make all come to nothing, I realise that…”
“Yes. Fingers crossed, anyway.”
“Then Saturday it’s Pitt’s Wood… Are you still okay to take him?”
“Oh, yes. I must meet those girls.”
“Great. At some point I’m going to take him to Fleetwood, where I usually ride. I have a friend there, Fiona, who’s dying to meet him. Lavinia?”
“Yes, about Saturday. Jasmine has asked me for some equipment. Nicole’s going to put that together, and I’ll drop it off to you and explain what’s it’s for.”
“Sounds interesting…”
“Nothing complicated. Just basic stuff, eh Nicole?”
“Yes, as Lavinia says, nothing special. Then if you want to keep him Sunday you can – it’s up to you. The following week there’s a committee meeting at Pitt’s Wood… What day is that, Lavvy?”
“Friday. We’re working on a new outfit for that. Something that should appeal to Miss Poole. She’s the committee chair, and she was quite taken by Bobby when she met him recently.”
Clare nodded excitedly. This was fun!
“But Clare…” said Nicole, quietly, “we want him hot and ready for the weekend, so we’re going to fit his, you know, his device, before we leave this morning.” She took it out of her bag and placed it on the table.
“Ooh! We were just talking about these yesterday!” She picked it up and turned it over in her hand. A little curved tube of pink plastic attached to a ring. “How clever! Will he fit inside this, though? And can he not escape somehow?”
“Oh he’ll go in. He’ll shrink when he sees it!” She laughed. “He’s worn it before. We measured him for it. The ring is rubber-covered steel. The tube is unbreakable. There’s no escape once we lock it with this little key.” She held up a tiny right-angled silver key. “It’s probably for the best with that Damien guy taking an interest. If he tries to grope him he’ll be very disappointed!”
They chatted away until it was nearly time to leave, then Nicole and Lavinia made Bobby lie on the sofa while they fitted his device, Wendy and Clare looking on with interest. Bobby was deeply embarrassed, and blushed and shut his eyes tight during the operation. Once it was over he quickly got dressed. He sheepishly accepted goodbye kisses from Clare and Wendy. Clare slipped a phone into his hand.
“This is Bobbi’s phone,” she said. “She’ll need her own phone to call Damien – you can’t very well use yours!”
“See you in a day or two, Bobby!” she called, as he was led out to the car.
-
Chapter 47
The consciousness of being so neatly and helplessly locked away didn’t help his confidence. He several times imagined his schoolmates had divined his plight. And when he was approached at break by Chrissy and Kaitlyn, both of them smiling knowingly, a shudder went through him. Had Sarah told her daughter? Why else would she be smirking like that? He tried vainly to collect himself.
“Hi Bobby? And how are you?” (That “and” seemed to bespeak some secret knowledge.)
“M-me? I-I’m good… Yeah…great, actually.”
“Oh, we’re so pleased to hear that,” said Kaitlyn, with a note of sarcasm, “cos we were a bit worried about you…”
“W-worried? About…m-me?”
“Yeah,” resumed Chrissy. “Cos when we saw you the other day…”
“You s-saw me?”
“Yes,” said Kaitlyn, “with your aunt…”
“And we could have sworn…”
“You were on a sort of lead… Or something…”
Bobby turned bright red. He thought for a moment he was going to faint.
“That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Me? Oh…” There was no point denying it. He must think of an explanation. He’d bluff it out. He managed an awkward laugh. “Oh, yeah…that… Yeah… I was practising, like…trying out some stupid outfits for…for Halloween, yeah…”
“That’s a long way off, Bobby? Why now?”
“Well…”
“And what outfit was that, anyway? Why those little red pants…? Were they rubber ones, by the way?”
By now Bobby was hyperventilating, his ears were burning, and a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. He started stammering inarticulately.
“I-I… It’s p-perfectly simple…let me explain… Er, y-you see…”
At that moment the bell went for the end of break. Relief. Not.
“We’ll talk about it after school, Bobby. Meet us in the park by the café. Straight from school. Don’t be late.”
“I-I have a…”
“Let’s stop messing around. We know everything. Unless you want this all over the school, be there.” She held up her phone, with one of Sarah’s videos playing, of Bobby in his boot boy outfit. “Oh, and if you ever let on to my mum I nicked this off her phone, the same will happen. Okay?”
And with triumphant grins, the girls turned and walked away, leaving Bobby standing there, speechless and devastated.
He stayed in the school buildings for the rest of the day, tormented by the thought his fame seemed to be spreading wider by the day, and terrified what the girls’ next move would be. But at the end of school he was one of the first out of the gates, and he ran to the park, eager to show his willingness to cooperate with whatever plans they had for him. He consoled himself somewhat with the knowledge that the real evidence they held had been obtained illicitly, and that Sarah would be furious if she found out. Maybe there was a ray of hope…
Somehow they were already there. They must have got out early. He could see the two uniformed figures sitting on the steps of the café, engaged in conversation, Chrissy playing with her long brown hair, Kaitlyn’s pigtails dancing as she was apparently convulsed with laughter. He approached, trembling, cheeks burning.
“Bobby! You came! Oh, and you’re here,” Chrissy added, with a guffaw. And they both rocked with laughter. “Go and buy us coffees. I’ll have a latte, Kaitlyn wants a white Americano, and get one for yourself. Then we can sit down at a table and talk.”
No money was offered, and Bobby scurried off, keen to propitiate them. When he returned he found them seated at one of the outside tables. A lot of the students went to the park after school, and he checked nervously in case someone looked likely to interrupt them, or overhear.
“M-maybe we should go and sit on the grass…?”
“No. We like it here. Now… What shall I call you? Boot Boy Bobby or Maid Bobbi? I think I’ll call you Boot Boy – I love those little rubber shorts so much…”
“Yes, Boot Boy,” smiled Kaitlyn. “They suit you so well… Those little frills are so cute…and they fit you perfectly – hug every contour…”
She winked meaningfully. Chrissy had a mouthful of coffee, and she spluttered and nearly choked with mirth.
Bobby looked disconsolately at the ground. “What do you want?”
“Ah. That’s a good question, Boot Boy. Well, first of all, we want to see you in both your outfits. All your outfits, I should say. I bet there’s more.”
“That’s impossible. I don’t have them. My aunt keeps them somewhere.”
“Where? Oh, in her dungeon, maybe…”
A chill ran through Bobby. He raised his head and stared at Chrissy. He couldn’t conceal his shock.
“What did you say?”
“Oh, nothing…” Chrissy realised that her over-confidence had led her to make a stupid error.
“What do you know about my aunt? Have you been spying on her? If you tell anyone anything about her, you’ll be in big trouble. Your mum…”
“I won’t say anything! Don’t worry!”
“You’d better not! Tell me how you know that. Tell me!”
Chrissy was now completely on the back foot. Kaitlyn stepped in.
“We came to visit you. We couldn’t get a reply, so we went round the back to see if anyone was there, and on the way back we saw a grill and some light… So we looked in… We weren’t spying at all! It was accidental….”
“Huh! We’ll see what my aunt thinks, shall we?” He thought he had the upper hand now, enough to spoil their plans. But Chrissy was a tough cookie, and she was equal to it.
“Okay let’s do that. You’re headed back to your aunt’s, right? We’ll come with you!”
She wasn’t sure whether Bobby’s was an empty threat, but there was no way she was going to let him tell Nicole some tale. She reckoned her own powers of persuasion were superior to his. And if all else failed, there was always tears!
He looked alarmed. She had called his bluff. Now what did he do?
“W-well, she probably isn’t in at the moment…”
“We’ll go and see, shall we?”
He demurred. “Anyway, I have to go to the shops…”
“We’ll come with you,” said Kaitlyn. “Then we can all go to your aunt’s together.”
“Or we’ll go to your aunt’s and wait for you to return,” added Chrissy.
“No!”
He was stymied. Reluctantly he allowed himself to be accompanied to the bus. He was trying desperately to see a way out, but he was too anxious and confused to think clearly. All he could do was to hope his aunt gave them a good ticking off. When she discovered Chrissy had hacked her mum’s phone, surely she’d do her nut… Wouldn’t she?
-
Chapter 48
They had arrived. He slid his key into the lock, opened the door, and walked in. He could hear voices in the sitting room. He quickly got ahead of the girls, and rushed in. He looked flustered and flushed. They were all there – Nicole, Lavinia and Sarah. They turned to look at him.
“Hello darling,” said Nicole. “What’s the matter? Oh, Chrissy! And…Kaitlyn, isn’t it? Come in, girls! How nice to see you.”
“Hi, mum,” said Chrissy, sheepishly.”
“Chrissy? I thought you and Kaitlyn were going straight home today. Why…?”
“They’ve got a confession to make!” blurted Bobby, determined to set the tone. “Haven’t you?”
“Confession?” said Nicole. “Whatever are you talking…”
“They been spying on you, auntie! They…”
“No we haven’t!” cried Chrissy. “It was accidental! Anyway…”
“Shush… Quiet - all of you. No - no more, Bobby! Now, take off your jackets, get some drinks, and come and sit on the sofa. No more talking till then, any of you! Goodness…”
When they were lined up on the sofa, each clutching a glass, Nicole began the interrogation.
“Right, now then. Bobby – say what you want to say, keep it as brief as possible, and keep calm, please. Girls, you’ll be able to have your say next, so please don’t interrupt.”
Bobby was having second thoughts now, but having embarked on a combative course, he didn’t see very well how he could retreat. So he went all in.
“Those two” – he jerked a thumb at them – “those two sneaked around the side of your house, auntie, and looked through a grill and saw…you know, the basement. They’ve been spying on you! And they won’t be able to keep their mouths shut, take it from me, they’re totally…”
“Enough, Bobby! Well, girls? Would you like to reply to that?”
“Miss – it’s true we did peep through that grill. But we weren’t really spying. See, we came round to see Bobby, but when there was no reply we went round to the back in case you were in the garden. Then when we came back we caught a glimpse of light from this grill. So we, like, just had a peep through, and saw some stuff, and…” Her voice trailed off.
“I see. What stuff was that?”
“I dunno…just stuff…”
“Like a big throne thing…and some bars, I think…” elucidated Kaitlyn.
“So what did you think?”
“Well…we thought it looked like…a dungeon…or something…”
“Okay. Well, you didn’t do anything wrong. That was just natural curiosity.”
“But miss…we saw something else too, one day…”
“What was that? Bobby! Wait your turn.”
“We saw… Bobby on a lead. You were taking him out… He had little red pants on….”
At this point, Lavinia started spluttering with laughter. Nicole gave her a look.
“Yes, well, that was my fault. I had no idea anyone was watching…”
“They were, aunt! They were spying. And…” He produced his trump card. “And…Chrissy hacked her mum’s phone and she’s got a lot of stuff about me!”
Sarah, who had been smirking behind her hand, sat bolt upright. “What? Is that true, Chrissy? It better not be! Give me your phone. Now! Unlock it.”
Bobby gave the girls a triumphant look. Sarah was scrolling through Chrissy’s phone.
“How did you get these? When? Tell me now, or you’re grounded for the next year!”
Chrissy’s eyes were full of tears. “It was that day when K and I wanted to go skating. I rang you again and again asking if I could go and if I could come and get my skates, and you never picked up. So we came round, and there was your phone, and I checked it to see if you’d been getting my calls, and then I saw all these pictures, and…”
“Ah. That day…”
“And…(sob)…well I know I shouldn’t have, but…you know, I was so amazed…”
“Yes, I guess you would have been…”
“An’ I just copied them, on the spur of the moment, so we could look at them later…”
“Right. Now I get it. Oh dear…”
Lavinia looked sympathetic. “I don’t think you can blame her for that, Sarah…”
“No, I know.”
“What do you mean?” cried Bobby, indignantly. “She copied them off you private phone…”
“Well it’s not that private if she left it on the table, Bobby,” said Nicole.
“But…but…”
“Yes, I should have been more careful. I should never have left it lying around in the house. All that stuff’s on a passworded flash drive, now, of course. I let my guard down.” She went over to Chrissy and gave her a cuddle.
“Don’t worry, darling. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you. Cheer up, come on.” She turned to Bobby. “I’m really sorry, Bobby. I should never have left my phone lying around like that. I often ask Chrissy to look up something on it – I don’t keep it secret from her. But I had no idea she would come back to the house right at that moment. You must blame me entirely for what happened.”
“What’s done is done,” said Nicole. “ I guess the stuff you found on your mum’s phone must have piqued your curiosity. Right?”
“Y-yes…we…”
“So then you started taking an interest in us….”
The girls lowered their heads.
“Well I can’t blame you… I think we would have done the same at that age, don’t you, ladies?”
“Not half,” grinned Lavinia.
“So now you girls know something of our little games – and possibly something about me I’d rather you didn’t know,” continued Nicole. She sighed. “You know we trust you both implicitly…?”
“We would never breathe a word, miss…”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
“Wait a minute,” interjected Bobby, “you know they threatened to spread those pictures round the school…!”
“We were bluffing, Bobby,” said Kaitlyn. “Obviously. We just wanted you to tell us what was going on. We’d never do anything like that. You know how much Chrissy likes you, don’t you?”
Bobby looked bemused. Did she? He had never been sure. He blinked. He couldn’t think what to say.
“Yes – she has a bit of a thing about you, all right,” smiled Sarah. “Don’t you, darling?”
Chrissy played coy.
“I’m not surprised she found the stuff on my phone so interesting. Bobby, please forgive her. Will you? Bobby?”
Bobby looked at Sarah, then at Chrissy, and finally at Nicole, who nodded at him.
“O-okay…I guess...”
“Good. That’s settled then,” said Nicole, briskly. “Girls? Have you got any copies of those videos and pictures? No? Okay then. Sarah’s deleting them now. So where do we go from here? It seems to me we have a choice. We can either dismiss the girls and tell them never to mention the matter again. But if we accept that it was basically due to our own carelessness, I don’t think that’s fair, or even practical.” She looked around. “The only other option is…to let them in on it.”
“What? No!” cried Bobby. Things were definitely not working out as he had anticipated. But he was ignored.
“I think that’s a good idea,” said Lavinia. “We can’t just tell them to go away and forget everything after what they’ve seen. Sarah?”
“Well…if you both agree... I may be biassed, but my daughter is honest and trustworthy, and Kaitlyn’s a good girl too. I’d vouch for both of them.”
Nicole turned to the girls. “How do you feel about it, girls? Would you like to join our little club?” The girls nodded vigorously. Kaitlyn was ecstatic.
“Yes, please, miss! That would be amazing!”
“We call ourselves “Ladies in Boots” – because we like to wear boots, and because Bobby likes ladies in boots so much.” She laughed. “We’d have to get you some boots too, of course, boots befitting his high standards. Eh, Bobby?”
“That’s right,” said Sarah. “What sort of boots do you like, girls? Chrissy, you got a pair of knee boots, but you need some new ones anyway. Maybe I’ll get you some for your birthday. What’s your favourite style?”
“Not sure, mum. The other day I saw a girl wearing these calf-length boots with stiletto heels… They looked pretty cool.”
“Mmm…sexy. Kaitlyn? What type of boots do you like?”
“Oh, if I could afford them, I really like thigh-length boots. I’d wear them with a short skirt or hot pants. I think women in high boots look really powerful.”
Lavinia and Nicole exchanged glances. Bobby looked distinctly uncomfortable.
“Well girls,” said Nicole, clapping her hands softly, “welcome to the club! We’ll throw a joining party for you to make it official, maybe in a week or two? Is that okay? And you three must be nice to each other from now on. Come on, kiss and make up. Bobby…? Do what you’re told. There. Oh, how nice Chrissy – yes, do give him a great big hug. Kaitlyn as well… That’s so sweet of you… Let’s hope this is the beginning of an exciting new chapter…”
-
Chapter 49
It was, as it turned out. And so is this.
It was agreed the girls would stay for supper, and they and Nicole repaired to the kitchen to prepare the food. Lavinia went and sat by Bobby and gave him a cuddle.
“Cheer up, sweetie. They’re really nice girls. Anyway, I thought you liked Chrissy quite a lot. And now it turns out she likes you a lot too.”
“I know, aunt Lavinia. I do like her… But… I mean, is she going to be…another mistress? That’s not what I had in mind…”
“We’ll have to wait and see. But what did you have in mind? Nicole told me you had plenty of opportunities to ask her out, but you always shied away.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. It was as if you wanted her to take the initiative, to take the lead…”
“Was it? Yeah, maybe that is what I wanted…”
“So…? Maybe you’ll get what you want…”
“I’m confused, auntie…”
“Don’t be. Go with your feelings.”
“Okay…”
“Oh, who’s that?”
Lavinia picked up her phone. “Hi Clare. How’s it going? Yes, he’s right next to me. Here, Bobby. It’s Clare.”
She handed him the phone.
“Hi Clare… Oh, that… Yeah, I guess… What, now? All right… All right… Yes, I remember… Well, I’m not doing anything Wednesday, if that’s… Okay, then… Okay… See you. Bye”
He looked at Lavinia doubtfully. “She wants me to ring that Damien guy. Tell him I’m free Wednesday evening, and that she and Wendy will be out. She’s going to text me his number.”
“You agreed, then? You sounded really upbeat. Well done.”
“I don’t want to do it… But Clare’s nice, even if she’s strict. I find it hard to say no to her…”
Lavinia laughed. “Oh, that so cute. Yeah, she’s strict, but she’s nice, and very, very naughty. Better not tell Chrissy – she may get jealous…”
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?” Chrissy had stuck her head round the kitchen door.
“Nothing,” said Lavinia. “Mind your own beeswax. Actually Bobby has to arrange a date with someone…a guy.”
“A guy? How come?”
“Don’t tell her!”
“He’s hitting on Bobbi the maid. Thinks he’s a girl!”
“Oh, that’s hilarious! But I can see why…”
“Shut up, Chrissy! Here’s the idiot’s number now.” He sighed.
“That’s his number? Go on then – ring him!”
“In front of you? No way. I’ll do it upstairs.” He left the room.
“This’ll be interesting,” mused Lavinia.
Bobby took the plunge.
“Hi… Is Damien?”
“Who’s that?”
“It Bobbi… Bobbi housemaid from Wendy house. You want I ring, yes? About work?”
“Bobbi… Yes, darling…very much I want you ring…” (chuckle) “Is this your phone…?”
“Yes, personal phone. Please don’t give out number.”
“No, course not, darling… So, have you thought about my little proposition…?”
“I think maybe we need talk. You pay good, yes?”
“Oh, yes, my sweet. If you attend to your, er, duties diligently I’ll pay you double whatever you’re getting now. Money is no object, but you must understand, in my world absolute obedience is a necessity. Can you agree to that?”
“Maybe…”
“Excellent! When can we meet up so I can explain in more detail what will be required of you?”
“I not allow to leave house, but my mistresses go to party Wednesday evening. They say back very late. If you free, maybe you call at house…?”
“Perfect. I’ll be there about eight? Excellent. Until then, rosebud.”
Bobby ended the call. “Smarmy piece of shit,” he murmured. He dialled Clare’s number. “It’s me, miss. Done. Wednesday evening eight o’clock.”
“You’re a star, Bobby! Can you come round after school tomorrow and we’ll make plans?”
“I’ll be there, Miss Clare.”
“I’ll make you a nice supper.”
-
Chapter 50
Despite the reconciliation, Bobby feared the worst as he set off for school the next day. He had tried to get Chrissy and Kaitlyn in trouble, but not only had he failed comprehensively, but they had been recruited into the ranks of his mistresses. However, his fears turned out to be unfounded – at least for the time being. They were waiting for him at the gates, and each took him by an arm, and cosied up to him as they led him into the playground.
“We love you, Bobby,” whispered Kaitlyn. “Both of us. How would it you had two girlfriends from now on? Cos we can’t decide which one of us likes you the best.”
“Hey, look, about yesterday… I’m sorry, but I felt really threatened by you having all that stuff on me. I felt my only defence was to attack. Do you understand?”
“Of course, silly,” said Chrissy. “Don’t worry. Now we’re in the club we’re gonna look after you. We can’t wait to see you in your outfits. Are you looking forward to being our boot boy and our maid as well? I hope so. In return we gonna give you a whole lotta love!”
“Er…yeah, course… I’m looking forward to it... I think,” he added under his breath. They were still cuddling him, and he was sure they were both wearing perfume, which was prohibited in school. The other kids were staring at them. It was strangely exciting, despite - or perhaps because of - the unpredictability of their future relationship…
By the time Bobby arrived at Wendy and Clare’s that evening all the preparations had been made. Bobbi’s new room had been cleaned, the bed made, and posters put on the walls. Clare showed him his room, and opened the wardrobe door to reveal both his maid’s uniforms hanging up.
“You’ll wear the original pink latex one tomorrow. I think it’ll appeal to Damien. You must make sure you bring him up here to discuss terms. Tell him you feel more secure here just in case anyone were to return early. Above all, Bobby, you must go along with whatever he wants to do - understand? You must stay in character, whatever happens, which means being an innocent, submissive maid unused to English conventions. I want to see if he tries to take advantage of you. If he goes so far as to put his hand up your skirt, all he’ll find is a chastity device. I want to see his face when he realises he’s groping a boy! Is that clear?”
“I understand, miss, but…well, do I really have to…?”
“You do, I’m afraid, unless you are prepared to suffer serious consequences… I’m not playing games here. Not with you, anyway. Remember you’re my contracted maid now, and you do exactly what I say. Yes?”
Bobby sighed. “Yes, miss… Okay - I get it…”
“Good. Now we’ll get you ready tomorrow – dress you and make you up. You’ll be a real doll! You can act as shy and innocent as you like – from my experience of him, that’s how he likes his girls. We’ll be watching everything – and recording it. Hopefully he’ll make a complete fool of himself.
The next evening, after supper at Wendy’s, Clare took Bobby up to his room to prepare him for Damien’s visit. As well as his two maid’s outfits, Nicole had dropped off a few accessories in case of need. He was allowed to undress and put on his pink latex panties in private. They were new ones, lacking the loops required when his member was not in a state of confinement, with tight white frills around the legs, and for once no anal plug – just pretty maid’s panties to match his dress. When he was done, Clare came in to help with the rest. First, white over-the-knee stockings supported by frilled elastic tops. Then the dress itself, his very first maid’s dress, with puff sleeves, a high neck, a gathered waist and a short skirt trimmed with white latex and with the words Little Maid Bobbi in red script. Then the cotton apron. Then his clumpy maid’s shoes, and finally some new gloves; tight pink latex reaching a few inches past the wrists, trimmed with white latex frilling and with another band of it at the wrists themselves, forming little decorative cuffs. Around these cuffs Clare buckled a broad pink leather wrist-cuffs, equipped with D-rings, with a screw link dangling from one.
“What are these for, miss?”
“Probably nothing. They’re just there as a symbol of your servitude. I’ll be interested to see if he decides to use them. It’s the sort of thing he might do.”
Bobby found this slightly disconcerting. “B-but why would he…?”
“Who knows. He’s into control, this guy… Power and control. But inside he’s a coward. I guess I want to see if he’s such a wimp he uses an artificial aid even to control a helpless girl…”
“I’m not a helpless girl, though…”
“He doesn’t know that yet – and if he's going to find out he needs to do it for himself, okay? You just play your part to the best of your ability.”
“Yes, miss. I get it…”
“Right. Now sit down and let me do your makeup. I haven’t put your headdress on yet because I want to curl that pretty blond hair of yours a little.” She turned on the curling tongs and sprayed some water onto his head from a plastic bottle. “Nicole has deliberately allowed it to grow. A few subtle ringlets would definitely not go amiss…”
She fussed with his hair for ten minutes or so, while Bobby watched in the mirror as his untidy thatch was transformed into a mass of soft curls. On went his pink latex and white lace Alice-band headdress. She plucked and pencilled his eyebrows, wiped his face and applied powder and some pink blusher, administered a little mascara, and painted his lips with pink lip gloss. She even found a pair of tiny pearl clip-on earrings.
“He’ll think you got all dolled especially for him!” she remarked, giving him a squirt of perfume.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” frowned Bobby. He was having serious doubts about the evening, especially as all the attention he was getting from Clare was making him horny, which was the opposite of what he wanted to feel. His device had become uncomfortable to say the least, and he could feel it quivering like a little taut spring against his panties. He groaned.
“What’s up, darling? You don’t look happy. Remember to smile for Damien, won’t you?”
“No way!”
“Well, it won’t make any difference, I suppose. What’s going on down there? Stand up.”
She lifted the hem of his dress. “Ooh, I see! It’s quite frisky this evening. I hope that’s for me and not for Damien! Oh, come on… I’m joking. Now, do a turn… Wow, you look gorgeous, Bobbi!”
He grimaced.
“Now, now. Get into maid mode. He’ll be here in half an hour or so…”
The words were hardly out of her mouth when the doorbell rang.
“What? Is that him already?”
Wendy came dashing in. “It’s him!”
“Damn. He’s early. He must be eager. Are we ready?”
“Not quite. Bobby, can you stall him?”
Bobby took out Bobbi’s phone and dialled Damien’s number, while Wendy and Clare dashed around checking the cameras.
“Hello? Mister Damien? It me, Bobbi. Is that…. Yes. Yes, they out. You early. I finish dressing. I be down in five minute. Okay. Yes, okay…”
“Thanks, Bobby. Okay…everything looks good here. Give us two minutes and then answer the door.”
“Okay.”
-
Chapter 51
It was time. Bobby descended. Before he answered the door he took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. But, as Clare had remarked, it didn’t much matter, because it would be expected the maid would be nervous in front of such an important person! Unconsciously he touched his new ringlets, smoothed his apron, and opened the door.
Damien must have been quite smitten. He was wearing an expensive looking suit with a rather loud pink tie, and holding a small bouquet of roses. Bobby saw his eyes widen as he took everything in.
“O-oh, Bobbi… Sorry to be a bit early… I, er, had business nearby, so I thought…”
“Please come in, Mister Damien…” Bobby opened the door wide and stood to the side. Damien quickly recovered his self-assurance.
“Thank you… What a delightful little outfit. If I recollect, you wore blue last time, but this is even prettier. May I?”
Without waiting for a reply he reached out and felt her sleeve between finger and thumb.
“It is latex – I thought so,” he leered. Does your mistress normally dress you in rubber, then?”
Damien was just the sort of self-important, lecherous guy that he hated. He decided to have a bit of fun with him.
“It my special dress, sir, my mistress buy me. I have to wear for parties, with panties to match. I show you…” He gave him a quick flash.
Damien puffed out his cheeks and looked her up and down as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing and hearing. “Oh, I see…yes. Your mistress has very good taste, don’t you think? Do you like this uniform better than the blue one?”
“I not sure. This dress rather short. At last party all ladies say pretty, but I think some gentlemen try to look up my skirt to see panties, so I not sure… “ He looked doubtful. “Which one you think nicer, Mister Damien?”
“Well my dear, I’m not surprised at all that the guests find this one particularly eye-catching. I must say, personally I think I prefer it to the blue one. Latex is very fashionable now, very sophisticated, and you look extremely pretty in it… I love the wrist cuffs, by the way…very naughty… ”
“Really, Mister Damien? If you like, then I wear for you. You proper gentleman… For gentlemen I do anything…”
Damien was rendered temporarily speechless by whatever thoughts that statement gave rise to, so Bobby chipped in
“Would you like to see room? Miss Wendy give me very nice big room all to myself…”
At this, Wendy and Clare, who had been crouching on the landing shaking with laughter, scrambled as quietly as they could back into Clare’s bedroom, and seated themselves in front of the monitor.
“That was genius, Clare,” whispered Wendy. “I didn’t imagine he was going to play the part so well! And now you’ve done his hair like that I think he could take in anyone!”
“Well he’s certainly taken in Damien. Shh. Here they come…”
On the screen the door of the next bedroom had opened. Bobby entered, followed by Damien.
“Oh, what a pretty little room,” he cried. “So bijou, but very tasteful…”
“What mean “bijou”, Mister Damien?”
“Oh, it’s French. It means “small but charming”…” He was about to add “like you”, but he perceived Bobbi wasn’t as small as he had remembered her. It must be those heels, he thought… And as an afterthought, because he didn’t much like girls who weren’t shorter than him, he decided he would change her footwear to something with lower heels.
“That looks a very comfy little bed, Bobbi.”
“Oh, it is, sir.” Bobby turned, bent over the bed and plumped up the pillows, giving Damien a rather longer view of his bare thighs and pretty pink latex panties. He turned back to face his prospective employer. Clasping his hands demurely in front of him, and opening his blue eyes as wide as they would go, and shyly fluttering his eyelashes, he enquired,
“Please, sir, Mister Damien… What will my duties be in your house? Will I have my own room there too? Will I have pretty uniforms like I have here?”
“Well, if you do decide to join my household, you’ll have the best of everything. I think I can say that with confidence. For a start, you’ll have a much bigger room, with full-length mirrors, a proper dressing table, and of course your own bathroom…”
“Is true, Mister Damien?”
“Yes, absolutely. Your bathroom itself will be as big as this room. And we’ll discuss uniforms and buy you the prettiest ones we can find…”
“You are such kind man… Will I be able to keep this one as well?”
“Oh, I’m sure your mistress will sell it to us…and the blue one, since they fit you so well.”
“You don’t think skirt too short, then? I still grow, maybe…”
“Not at all, not at all! It’s perfect. It’ll be perfect for when I have a stag party. You know what a stag party is, my sweet?”
“Oh, yes, I think… When there no ladies, only gentlemen?”
“That’s right, my dear. Do you think…that would be all right…?”
“Oh yes…if they’re your friends, Mister Damien.”
“They will be, of course. Now, sometimes you may be called upon to perform…extra services. Of course, you will get paid very well… Maybe two or three times what you would normally expect…”
Really? So much?”
“Oh, yes… We’re talking about, maybe…two hundred pounds…or more…for one evening’s work. Yes. At least. And you’ll be able to drink whatever you like. We always have the best wines…”
Bobby had played his role so well, that by this time he felt more like Bobbi the maid than Bobbi the boy. He was behaving and reacting as Bobbi. And Bobbi was dumbfounded. She stood there open-mouthed. “T-two hundred…”
“Yes, easily. Probably more…”
In the next room, Wendy murmured, “you fuc-king pervert…”
“Would I have to…please the gentlemen….”
“Ah. I see you understand, dear. Would you be prepared….”
“If they nice gentlemen…like you…”
“Oh they are…all of them. They’ll love you, my dear. I’m sure they’ll want to make use of these cuffs too… Here, turn around…go on. Shall we try them out? Why not? Connect them together, so… There. How neat. Now you can’t do any cleaning, can you? But you have other talents…”
Damien was breathing hard. Wendy and Clare could see he had an erection.
“Wait for it,” whispered Clare. “He’ll have his hand up her skirt any minute now…”
But she was wrong. That was not what he had in mind.
“My dear…? What’s that green thing by the door? Is it…?”
“It kneeling-mat, sir…”
“I thought so…” He walked over, picked it up, and tossed in down in front of her. “Why don’t you show me how you use it?”
“What…now, sir?”
“Right now. If I’m going to employ you, I need to be satisfied you know how to do your job… And take off your apron. No point in getting that messy, is there? Here, let me help you. Turn around.”
Bobby hesitated, then did as he had been instructed. Damien casually untied the bow.
“Back.”
Bobby turned back, and Damien slipped off his apron and tossed it aside. Then he took Bobby by the shoulders, moved him in front of the mat, and pushed him down onto his knees, bringing him face to face with the bulge in Damien’s trousers.
“Perfect!”
“fuc-k,” said Bobby to himself. “What am I doing? Who the fuc-k am I? What am I? This is above and beyond… Clare, I hope you’re watching this… Get me out of here. I want extra Brownie points for this…a shitload of them…”
He was panicking now. Was he going to tell ‘Bobbi’ to unzip him with her teeth? That’s the sort of thing these control freaks liked. If that happened, he decided he would pretend to hear Wendy and Clare returning. He glanced sideways at one of the cameras, hoping they could read his intentions, and quickly come to his rescue. But Damien was too impatient for such foreplay. He opened his own zip, allowing his coc-k to spring out, already stiff and juicy, inches from Bobby’s nose! Bobby’s mind raced. He had a split second to decide whether to flee, or to follow Clare’s orders. The consequences of disobedience made him hesitate for a moment – and in that moment of indecision, Damien had grabbed him by his curls and forced it between her lips!
“Mmmff…”
“There, my dear… Now, now…don’t struggle… I’m a gentleman, and I’m going to be very gentle… Aah… And please don’t tell me this is your first time….”
Bobbi tried to nod. “Mmmm…”
“It is? No, I’m sorry, I don’t believe you… I’ll soon find out, any way …”
He made a few gentle exploratory thrusts.
“Is it true? Is this virgin mouth I’m probing here? It’s so soft… Your tongue’s like velvet…”
He cupped one hand around the back of Bobby’s head and sank half his length into his mouth, making him choke. Bobby realised that, with his hands secured behind his back, he had limited means of resistance; Damien was a strong guy. At that moment he felt a lot more like Bobbi the vulnerable housemaid than Bobby the streetwise teenager. He looked up at Damien with tearful and appealing eyes. Damien looked down at him with growing excitement.
“It’s true then… This is a new experience for you…” He grunted with satsfaction. “Well don’t worry, cutie… I’m going to be very gentle with you… You’ll enjoy it, just wait and see…”
Bobby gave up hope of escape. He could have torn himself away, but then Clare would be furious. There’d be a whipping for sure, and maybe she’d cast him out, or expose him. In any case, though he wouldn’t have admitted it, the will to resist had all but evaporated. It was not so much that he wanted to play the part of an utterly docile, subservient housemaid, but that his instinctive psychological response to being dominated, whether by a woman or a man, was to retreat into helpless submission. Clare and Wendy must be ecstatic at the way things had panned out, he thought. As Damien’s manhood pumped steadily at his stretched lips he tried desperately to think of a strategy. All he could come up with was to bring things to an end as quickly as possible. This was all the more urgent because for some inexplicable reason his own member was straining and oozing with arousal in its little plastic prison. So he decided to reciprocate, and began to bob back and forth enthusiastically, using the tip of his tongue to stimulate the glans, and making suitably appreciative noises. Damien was pleasantly surprised.
“That’s right, cutie…aah…you’re a quick learner though, aren’t you…?”
He put his by his sides and relaxed, letting Bobby get on with his task. Their eyes met.
“You’re a naughty girl, Bobbi! My friends are going to love you – male and female. I can tell you now…aah, yes, like that…. I can tell you, there’s going to be a big demand for your services. We’ll get you…oh my god! Slow down, please! I almost… W-we’ll get you the sauciest costumes… My current girlfriend… She’s really into all that kinky stuff… fuc-k…just stop a minute, please…”
In the next room, Clare was throwing a fit.
“His current girlfriend! Yeah, I know who he’s talking about. I’ve seen that bitch with him a couple of times. Black fuc-king lipstick and black leather. So why are you still trying to mess with me, you fuc-king two-timing piece of shit?”
“Shh, darling. Keep your voice down. When we’ve finished here you’ll be able to do whatever you want with the bastard.”
“Yeah. And I will, believe me.”
Damien had closed his eyes and was biting his lip. He didn’t want to c-um just yet. This was much too good to hurry. But Bobby’s lip gloss had melted slightly, and was adhering to the foreskin, sliding it back and forth relentlessly as he bobbed. Bobby could sense Damien’s climax wasn’t far away – his prec-um was by now flowing steadily down his throat. Speeding up, he raked the underside of Damien’s pen-is with the tip of his tongue. There was a second’s delay, then it twitched violently, Damien cried out, and the next moment hot c-um was flooding Bobby’s mouth. Damien wound his fingers into Bobby’s curled locks, and held his head steady so he couldn’t pull back. Taken by surprise by the suddenness and profusion of the reaction, Bobby almost choked, and was forced to swallow the first few spurts. Then it was overflowing the corners of his lips, running down his chin, and plopping in sticky wads and strings onto his skirt. In the midst of his climax Damien took hold of his coc-k, and, thrusting back Bobby’s head, proceeded with obvious pleasure to decorate his victim’s face. Bobby would have tried to resist this final humiliation, but he was having his own crisis; he was in the throes of his own orgasm. With his coc-k tightly imprisoned and unable to achieve any sort of erection, he had thought it impossible. He had been wrong. But instead of a pleasurable, satisfying eruption, however, it took the form of a difficult and prolonged emission, pleasure and pain gripping him in alternating waves, whilst his sperm merely oozed out into his panties in a slow stream. With a groan he fell forward with his head against Damien’s thighs, allowing that gentleman, whose own climax had now subsided, to use his hair as a convenient coc-k-wiper.
Damien, his needs temporarily satisfied, saw no more reason to hang around. He replaced his pen-is inside his trousers and zipped himself up.
“Well done, my sweet. I’m pleased to be able to tell you I consider that a, er, more than satisfactory performance, for a beginner.” He took a brown envelope from his wallet pocket, inserted a few twenty pound notes, and placed it on the dressing table. “There is a little gratuity, my dear, together with your copy of our contract. You will see I have already signed. If you wish to take up the position offered, all you need to do is to sign where indicated and send or bring it to the address at the bottom. If you agree, you would start on the first of next month. You will see that your accommodation will be provided on top of your salary and, er, bonuses. I do hope you are able to accept. Well, I'll leave you to sort yourself out, shall I? I can see myself out.”
And without further ado he turned and left the room. Bobby heard the front door shut. He was too exhausted to move. He was slimy from his head to his knees, and he knelt there, breathing hard, and watching a little rivulet of c-um trickling slowly along a fold in the pink latex of his skirt. When it reached the frilled hem, it made its way between the words Maid and Bobbi and descended in a sticky string to the plastic kneeling-mat.
His reverie was interrupted by the arrival of Wendy and Clare.
“Bobby! Are you all right, darling?” cried Wendy.
He raised his head wearily, and wiped his sticky eyebrows with his hand. “I hope you’re satisfied.”
Clare looked as though she was about to kneel and hug him, but then decided against it.
“Let’s get you to the shower. We can talk later.”
She helped him to his feet, and guided him to the door. “Listen, Bobby – you did an amazing job. I don’t know how you put up with all that. I’m going to make it up to you, I promise. You really are a gem, you know that?” She opened the bathroom door and ushered him in. “Shower just as you are first of all. Then shower and use loads of body wash – the rose one’s nice. And shampoo your hair. Ugh – it’s so sticky! I’ll bring you a big towel and your clothes, and then we can have a nice lunch and make plans.”
“Plans? What plans?”
“Never mind. Get cleaned up first. Off you go!” And she closed the door.
-
Chapter 52.
She turned, gave Wendy a thumbs-up, and, putting a finger to her lips, ushered her mother downstairs. Once in the kitchen, with fresh coffee steaming in a jug, she released her delight.
“Can you believe…?”
“No, I can’t! What a pervert! To take advantage of…”
“What he thought was an innocent girl…”
“I know!”
Clare sighed. “Poor Bobby. He coped with it so well… Don’t you think? I mean, he even looked as though he was really into it at times…”
“Yes. What an actor…”
“Either that, or….”
“What are you saying?”
“Well, mum, I hardly like to say this, but I was wondering….”
But her thoughts were interrupted by a text. She picked up her phone, checked it – and gasped.
“It’s him!”
“Who?”
“Mister Pervert! Hold on…”
She read the text.
“Hello Clare. Thought you might like to know I just paid your sweet little housemaid a visit. What an nice, obliging girl she is! She would be an asset to my establishment, and I could pay her a lot more than you do, as well as offering her some much more interesting chores! I’ve left her a contract to sign – I’ve no doubt she will, but whether she does or not doesn’t matter if you agree to transfer her to me. There’d be a transfer fee, of course, darling. Let’s talk? Call me….”
“What a pig! Tell him to fuc-k off, dear.”
“No, mum, we don’t need to. Remember we’re the ones in control now. We can sink him any time we please. I’ll play along for now. Let’s see… I know… “Damien! How dare you! Bobbi’s just called me, saying she’s signed a new contract with you! How did you do that? You must have forced her! Just wait till we get home! I hate you!”
There was an immediate response.
“You’re such a loser, Clare. Face it, you’re no match for me. I just gave the girl what she was craving, that’s all. Let’s talk money tomorrow, yes? Enjoy your evening!”
Clare allowed herself a quiet smile. “Yes, let’s, Mister Pervert. Lots of it…”
A moment later the subject of the conversation appeared at the kitchen door. He had showered and washed his hair. His cheeks were glowing, and he had dressed himself in his blue dress.
“You’re a star, Bobby,” cried Wendy, opening her arms for a hug. Bobby trotted over and allowed himself to be cuddled. Clare looked on approvingly.
“That can’t have been easy, Bobby.”
“It was disgusting…”
“But you pulled it off.”
“Sorry?”
“I mean, you played the innocent to perfection! You totally took him in!”
“I didn’t have much choice. If I didn’t convince him and he twigged I was a bloke it would have been so embarrassing… Please don’t ever let on, will you? I’ll never have to see him again, will I?”
Clare hesitated. “See him again? Well… No, don’t worry. Highly unlikely. Yes.” She glanced at Wendy, who gave her a warning look.
Bobby frowned. “Will I?”
Clare quickly changed the subject. “Bobby. We need to talk about the weekend.” Bobby looked puzzled. “Pitt’s Wood?”
“Oh, do I have to go there again?” he sighed.
“You know you do. Miss Poole wants to see you before the committee meeting next week. She wants to feature you in the new advertising campaign she and that Magda lady are working on. ”
At the mention of Magda’s name Bobby quickly changed his tune. “Me? Really? Well, if it’s going to help Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre of course I’d be up for it. I’d do anything for Mag – I mean, Miss Poole. Do you know what I’ll have to do?”
“Not certain. Something to do with a photoshoot, I think...”
“Oh. Well it’ll be a nice change from being a maid, whatever it is. They’ll probably want me to run a boot-shine stall or something. Maybe I’ll make some dosh…”
“Probably. I know they’re cooking up something with your aunts, but I’ve no idea what…”
-
Chapter 53
The dish that Miss Poole and the aunts were cooking up was of a rubbery consistency and had involved a large element of cooperation with Nicole’s favourite company, Fantastex. It was presently lying on Lavinia’s dining room table, on a bed of white tissue. Miss Poole was examining it with close attention, and gasping with admiration.
“Nicole… Goodness me! What a beautiful suit! How do they come up with such imaginative, unusual designs? Are you sure it will fit?”
“Certain. They have all his measurements. See this heavy zip which runs right the way from the navel to the neck? Once we zip this up it’ll fit him like a second skin! What do you think of the colours?”
“Fascinating! We have a chestnut in the stables exactly that colour! And the four white socks are a touch of genius!”
“I’m glad you like it. We chose a patterned matt finish to make it look more like a pony’s coat. They made the front hooves slightly elongated to compensate for the shorter forearm length, so his back will be nice and straight. I just decided to keep the hooves themselves plain black. Actually they’re solid wood, which enabled us to bolt on the metal shoes – a little touch of authenticity. They’re aluminium and you can see we made them quite thick to add a little bit more elevation.”
“Yes,” added Lavinia, “they’ll protect the hooves from wear, but the best thing is that when he walks on hard ground they’ll make a proper clip-clop sound.!”
“You girls have thought of everything! Thank you! I was just thinking of having Bobby in his boot boy outfit polishing up all the ladies boots, but this is much better!”
“Well, we can still do that, Violet,” said Lavinia. “After all, the Gazette said they’d do a series of articles, and I know you’re planning several different posters. Let’s do a second shoot the following weekend. We can discuss it at committee.”
“Super! Let’s do that. But this is fab. If you hadn’t told me about human ponies I would never have thought of such an idea all on my own. It’ll be perfect for Pitt’s Wood. Our members have a bit of a reputation for naughty pranks, and they’ll love this one. But mainly it’ll be a great advertising gimmick!”
“I hope so,” said Sarah. “It should certainly attract attention. Now, here’s the box of accessories. The headwear is my design. We discussed various possibilities incorporating a rubber bit, but he would have been dribbling the whole time. I also like the idea of just showing his eyes and nose. So this is what we agreed upon.”
She pulled out a heavy rubber hood, matching the chestnut of the suit, slipped her hand through the neck, and held it up.
“Right, so the ears… Cute, eh? Just like real horse ears, but always pricked! The oval face opening will just show his eyebrows, and at the bottom it’ll fit tight under his nose. If you look inside… See? A built-in ball-gag. The rubber is thick enough to hold that in position, but in any case there are straps on the outside welded to the rubber and attached to these nice big steel cheek-rings. When the head-harness goes on it will buckle to these, and the reins will attach to the backs of the rings. The rider will be able to control his direction just as if he was wearing a proper bit, but there’s the bonus that he won’t be able to make a sound.”
“Gosh! But I can see a little hole in that ball-gag…”
“Yes, we had it pierced and supplied with a little plug on the outside. It means we can give him a drink when he wants one. Similarly the ear-coverings are padded and pierced. The default is that he can’t hear a thing, but if we need him to follow spoken instructions, again we just need to remove the plugs.”
“And the, er, head-harness?”
“Ah, yes. Let me show you. All the tack is made of pink leather, and it’s really soft. Feel.”
“Gosh… That’s beautiful…”
“So these are the reins – short, as you can see, and with clips to attach to the cheek-rings. Now, here’s the harness itself. This strap goes around the forehead and buckles at the back of the head. This cross-strap it’s sewn to goes over the top of the head just behind the ears and the lower ends form cheek-straps which buckle to the tops of the cheek-rings. Then there’s a short strap that goes under his chin and will buckle to the bottoms of the rings. And finally there’s another short strap that attaches to the backs of the rings and buckles at the back of the neck. Once that’s all in place and properly tensioned he’ll be a proper little pony, all tacked up and ready to go! Ah, and there’s one other important accessory. These blinkers can be clipped to the cheek-straps so that he’ll be unable to see anything that’s going on around him. He’ll only be able to see straight ahead. We’ll fit these when he’s being ridden.”
“Perfect!”
“The neck of the suit has four loops which fit through slits in the base of the hood. This pretty pink collar will be fed through the loops and buckled at the throat, so it will lock suit and hood neatly together. As you can see, there’s a D-ring next to the buckle which can be used for leading or tethering. At some point Lavinia would like to get his columella pierced soon so we can give him a nose-ring too…”
Miss Poole was peering into the box. “That’s a good idea… But what’s that in there?”
“Ah, yes, Miss Poole,” smiled Nicole, pulling out what looked like a short skein of coarse chestnut hair, the upper end bound with cord and attached to a little round silver plate, not much bigger than a fifty pence piece. “It's his tail! Every pony needs a tail.” She shook it, and it sparkled a little in the light. “There’s a few glittery strands mixed in. Cute, eh? Shall I show you how we’re going to attach it?”
“Please!”
“It needs to stay put, especially as some of those naughty stable girls may be tempted to give it a tug. You’ll notice a small reinforced hole in the seat of the suit. The purpose of that is to allow for the insertion of this very special butt plug.” As she spoke she took the plug from the bottom of the box and held it up. It was about four or five inches long, and made of smooth black rubber. It consisted of a slender, flexible shaft attached to a metal plate similar to that on the base of the tail, and culminating in a smooth egg-shaped head. “Here, have a look.”
Miss Poole took it, and turned it over in her fingers with obvious fascination.
“Goodness me… So this part…goes inside…?”
“Yes. Let me show you how it works.” She took from the box a compact silver bicycle pump. In the base of the plug was a threaded circular steel flange, and in the centre a brass valve like that on a bicycle wheel. Nicole attached the connector, gave it three good pumps, and the rubber egg immediately inflated to roughly the size of a hen’s egg. Miss Poole stared open-mouthed.
“My! That’s so...clever…”
“Once it’s inflated there’s no way it can be ejected until the valve is released. Inflating the head pulls the shaft firmly inside, and draws the baseplate in between the buttocks. The internal egg is made of steel, and incidentally, contains a tiny powered vibrator which can be activated from my phone. It’s encased in this skin of extra-heavy latex. It won’t feel uncomfortable – just a little tightness, maybe.”
“So, then…the tail…”
“Yes, the tail attaches directly to the base of the plug. You can see the steel flange fits exactly through the hole in the suit, and then all we have to do is to screw on the base plate of the tail to until it locks, sandwiching the reinforced ring of latex between the two plates. Then the tail becomes, to all intents and purposes, an integral part of the pony.
“How ingenious! And there’s a vibrator as well?”
“It was an optional extra. I thought it could be useful.”
“Yes, I agree.” Miss Poole nodded vigorously. “After all, we don’t really know how tractable he’ll be… We don't want him having a tantrum or something in the middle of filming...”
“Oh, his options will be very limited, anyway. But it may be a useful extra aid if, say, he decides to plant himself and refuses to move.”
“Of course. It wouldn't look good if we had to resort to the whip to make him cooperate..."
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” smiled Nicole. “I’m so pleased you like our idea, Miss Poole. We’ll take care of everything else, and hopefully we’ll be able to introduce you to your new pony on Saturday morning. Lavinia’s going to lend me her three girls to help get him ready. They seem very efficient judged by the way they handled him before.
“Yes, they’re very good, trustworthy girls.”
“You’ve arranged the photographer?”
“My friend Magda will take care of that. Er… Did you have any luck with the saddle…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Miss Poole! The most important thing! I was forgetting. Here… Lavinia? Could you pass us that pink Fantastex box on the chair? Thanks…” She transferred the suit to the sofa, placed the box on the table, and began opening it. “They told me it’s been specially shaped to fit Bobby’s back. They really can make anything, those ladies. Now, let’s see…”
She opened the box and drew out a tiny saddle, complete with saddle flaps, girths and stirrup leathers.
“Ooh! That’s pink as well!” cried Miss Poole. How pretty!”
“Yes, all the tack matches. Gosh. It even comes with a little pink saddle-cloth. What does it say on the packing slip? “One miniature faux-leather ponyboy saddle with girths and accessories.” And the stirrups are here too. You may have noticed a couple of welded guide loops on the suit. The idea is to thread the girths through those so the saddle will stay firmly in place.”
“Nicole, I’m so impressed. You’ve thought of everything,” said Miss Poole. “Thank you so much.”
“I think you should thank Fantastex. I only explained roughly what we wanted. They pay attention to all the little details.”
“I can’t wait to see Bobby all ponied up,” said Sarah.
“So have you found a rider for him?” asked Lavinia. “You can see from the saddle it’ll need to be someone quite small.”
“I have a couple of girls in mind amongst the younger riders. She will need to have good posture and technique, and be well turned-out – though thanks to the hooves she’ll be able to ride with a full length of stirrup leather, so she should look quite natural. I’ve asked several parents if their daughters would be available, though I haven’t explained what we have planned. But they know it’s a publicity event, so I’m sure they’ll all want to be in on the action.”
“Sounds like Bobby’s going to be quite busy,” grinned Nicole.
“Oh, I’m sure he will be,” said Miss Poole, calmly. “And even after the shoot I can imagine he’ll attract quite a lot of attention. But I suppose you’ll have to take him away…”
“Not at all,” said Nicole. “He’ll be fine in his suit. I was even thinking he could stay with you that night, if you have a spare stable…”
“Oh, that would be lovely! So he could entertain our visitors all the afternoon?”
“Why not?” laughed Lavinia. “I’m sure Jasmine and her friends would only be too happy to look after him, if you can spare them.”
“Of course!”
“We should at least let him have a rest from his device, don’t you think?” suggested Sarah. “Talking of which, who’s going to be in charge of his toileting?”
“Absolutely,” agreed Lavinia. “He can be free. The suit also has a short lockable zip at the crotch. I’m going to put Jasmine in charge of that. She’ll discreetly take him off somewhere quiet when he needs to go.”
“But…how will she know?” asked Sarah.
“Oh, we’ll arrange some sort of code. Maybe I’ll tell him to neigh three times or something.”
They all laughed. Miss Poole stroked the saddle and looked at her friends.
“Really, we’re like a bunch of mischievous schoolgirls, aren’t we? But why shouldn’t we have a little fun in a good cause?”
“Why not, Violet?” smiled Lavinia. “And I’m sure Bobby will get to enjoy himself too – after he gets over the initial shock!”
-
Chapter 54
Bobby was back at Nicole’s on the Thursday evening. He was in a good mood. Chrissy and Kaitlyn were being nice to him, and though he knew they could afford to be now, it was still pleasant to have their attention and friendship. He found himself luxuriating in the dilemma of having crushes on both Chrissy and Clare, and apparently having his feelings reciprocated. He had no interest in a serious romantic relationship with either, but felt he would be happy to go on playing whatever roles they chose for him in return for their regard and their cuddles and kisses. So when Nicole reminded him of his upcoming appointments, at Pitt’s Wood on Saturday and again for the committee meeting the following Wednesday, he accepted it blithely.
“Okay, aunt, no sweat. What time are we leaving Saturday? Is Clare coming with us? What am I supposed to be doing there, anyway?”
Judiciously avoiding the last of those three questions, Nicole assured him that Clare would accompany them, and that they needed to leave early as there would be a publicity photoshoot in the morning.
“Oh, really? They’re going to do some advertising at last? Good idea. So why am I needed?”
“Maybe you’d like to help, Bobby. Magda’s organising the photography, so we thought…”
He pricked up his ears. “Magda? Oh, is she good at that sort of thing?” He felt a slight fluttering in his tummy. “There’s Magda, too,” he was thinking. “She so fuc-king cute… Wonder if she’s going to be wearing those boots again… Hope so…”
“And I’m going to give you a rest from that chastity device for a week or so, too.”
“You are?”
“You’ve been so good about it, darling. You haven’t complained. I think you deserve a bit of freedom.”
“Thanks, aunt. Er, does that mean… Boot Boy duty?”
“Probably next week. I haven’t had Miss Poole’s instructions yet.”
“Will, er, Magda be at that committee meeting?”
“Oh, yes, of course. She’s an important figure in the committee.”
“Oh…good.”
That was great news. He and Magda definitely had some sort of unspoken thing going on. The electricity was undeniable. If he had to wear his boot boy outfit for anyone, she was the one he’d most like to show off to. Maybe she’d take him somewhere quiet for a little snog… He was sure she’d like to. He hoped and prayed she wear those sexy red boots… What was it she’d said? “Maybe you could clean them for me sometime…” Yes, those were her exact words! His thoughts were nipped in the bud by a growing feeling of discomfort from the area of his device.
“Ow…!”
“Are you all right, dear?”
“Yes…yes, fine, thank you, aunt…”
At the same time Bobby was thinking about Magda, coincidentally Magda was thinking about Bobby – though perhaps not in quite the way he might have hoped. In fact, she was on the phone with Violet Poole, discussing arrangements for the shoot on Saturday.
“If all goes well, Magda, the stable girls will aim to have Bobby suited up by nine or nine-thirty. That’s the plan, anyway. I hope he doesn’t make too much of a fuss.”
“That’s early. We weren’t planning to start shooting till eleven.”
“Lavinia wants her girls to spend some time with him first, teaching him how to walk and so on, so he’ll have got used to being a pony by the time the filming starts.”
“Oh, yes, good idea. It’ll give us time to get sorted out, think of good locations, and so on. I’ll be doing the snaps, and my friend Zeta will be responsible for the videos. I’m so excited! I can’t wait to see Bobby as a little pony. What colour’s his suit?”
“He’s going to be a pretty chestnut with for white socks! And his saddle and all his tack is pink! Really, Magda, I think he’s going to look a treat!. I hope everyone approves. We’ve got a reporter coming from the local paper, too. She may want to do an interview with him afterwards…”
“Seriously? Do you think that’s a good idea? He could say anything…”
“I know. When she suggested it I foolishly agreed without thinking...”
“Leave it with me. I’ll have a chat with him beforehand. I want to assist with getting him ready, anyway.”
“Oh, would you? I think you’d have more influence over him than anyone else. He seems to like you a lot…”
“I’ll wear my red boots!” she laughed. “If that doesn’t do the trick, nothing will!”
-
Chapter 55.
Nicole, Lavinia, Sarah and Bobby arrived at Pitt’s Wood just after eight-thirty Saturday morning. Clare had come on her motorbike, and was in the car park in the process of removing her crash helmet.
“Hi guys! Hi Bobby. How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine, miss,” he replied, remembering his position. He hadn’t seen Clare in her leathers before, and he couldn’t help staring.
“Like my outfit?”
“W-what? Oh, er, yes…very nice. You’re here early, miss… Are you helping too?”
“If I can…”
Bobby helped carry the boxes and bags from the car park up to reception and then down the short track to the stables. The stables were on the right of the track, and on the left a sloping, neatly-mown field where horses were tacked up before go out for exercise. Waiting for them, not entirely to Bobby’s delight, were the three stable girls.
“Hi Bobby!” called Jasmine. “How are you today?”
She seemed unusually enthusiastic, which made Bobby slightly suspicious. Phoebe was suffering from a severe fit of giggles, while Ellie had an enigmatic smile on her lips. Moreover they were all dressed in nice clean white or beige breeches, smart little vests, and shiny boots, which was not their usual casual working attire. “Huh. Must be hoping to get in on the act,” thought Bobby, with a sneer.
“This is the place,” said Jasmine, shortly. “See?”
She pointed at the door of the adjacent stable. It bore a little green painted sign – “BOBBY”.
“What’s that for?”
“It’s your very own stable, silly!” cried Phoebe, hysterically.
“My stable…?”
“Yes, Bobby. Yours.”
The voice came from behind him. He swung round. Magda was walking down the path. She was clad in a black leather jacket over a short blue vest, blue breeches, and her red riding boots.
“M-Magda…”
“Yes, darling.” She walked straight up to him, ignoring everyone else, and put an arm around his shoulders.
“Can we have a little chat? Just you and me? Let’s go inside. Leave that stuff here.”
She took him by the hand, led him into the stable, and closed the door. She sat him on a hay bale, and sat down next to him.
“How are you?”
“I-I’m great, thanks, Magda. I didn’t expect to..”
“See me so early? No probably not. I hope you’re not disappointed?”
“W-what? Course not! It’s great to see you. I thought I may not even get to see you till next week…”
“Well now we can get together next week as well, can’t we? I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. See? I wore your favourite boots today, just for you!”
“Ah…ha,ha…” He laughed, nervously. “Yes, I see…”
“Well I’m still waiting for you to clean them for me…”
Poor Bobby turned bright red. He opened his mouth but no words came out. Magda came to his rescue.
“But about today. We were really hoping you could help us out with this publicity thing. I’ve been roped in to do the photography. There’ll be various events, but…”
“Of course I’ll do anything you need, miss…”
“Well, it’s completely up to you, of course, but we have a horse outfit and we want someone to wear it and pretend to be a horse for the day. It’s completely voluntary. I know you’d be good at it, but there’s a couple of other guys we have in mind, so…”
“I’ll do it! Course I will! You don’t need to ask anyone else!”
“It’s up to you, Bobby. You may have to give an interview later on. There’s a lady from the Gazette here, I believe.”
“Wow. Really? I can do that! Easy peasy!”
“Well, if you did… I mean, we’d all be so grateful… But I warn you, it may not be easy… It’s quite physically demanding…”
“I’m really fit, miss. Feel those muscles!” He held out his arm. Magda squeezed it gently. “Gosh, Bobby…”
“Let me do it, please! I won’t disappoint you, I promise!”
“Well, you do seem very committed. So shall I tell the others to stand down then?”
“Of course!”
“Okay. You’re a star, Bobby!” She leant across and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her lips were warm, her lipstick slightly sticky. His heart missed a beat.
“If it works out, Miss Poole may even allow us to make it a regular thing at the big events. And you could appear in our publicity videos, and even maybe on our posters.”
“Cool!”
“Now, remember to be really positive if you’re interviewed. This is all about showing what a fun place Pitt’s Wood is for all the family.”
“Yes, miss, I totally get it.”
“Actually, I think it would be better if you said the whole idea of the human pony was yours, don’t you? After all, you inspired the idea.”
“I did?”
“Yes. After your last visit Miss Poole said she thought you were the human equivalent of a spirited little pony, full of energy and excitement.”
“Really?”
“So take the credit. We’d be happy to have you as the face of Pitt’s Wood – and who knows where it might lead?”
“Gosh, miss, this is so exciting. I had no idea I’d be doing something like this! You can rely on me. I’ll put on a good show for Pitt’s Wood and Miss Poole and…for you…” He blushed again.
“Good boy! I know I can rely on you. Right. I’ll leave you, now. The girls will get you ready, and I’ll see you outside later.”
She gave him a final kiss to seal the deal, smiled, and slipped out. Bobby, bursting with pride and excitement, stood up, flexed his muscles, and punched the air.
“Yes!!”
-
Chapter 56
Magda, having thus deftly obviated any need for compulsion, had a quick word with Nicole, to whom Lavinia had delegated the task of supervising her girls, on the ground she was the latex and tack expert.
“He’s totally up for it. Make sure the girls are kind and gentle, and reassure him, and there won’t be any problems.”
“Really? How did you…?”
“Never mind. Just remind him occasionally how proud I’m going to be of him, okay?”
“Aha… I see… I think…”
“He’s so sweet, Nicole. Impress on him this is a serious publicity stunt, and he’ll go along with anything you want.”
“You’re a genius, Magda!”
“I know…it’s so difficult… Anyway, good luck. I have to go and meet Zeta. See you later.”
Nicole turned to the stable girls.
“Help me take this stuff in, girls. Magda tells me Bobby’s quite committed, so please be nice to him. No teasing or stupidity, understand? I’ll show you what you need to do. Okay? Let’s go.” She turned to the others. “We have everything we need. Why don’t you all go and have coffee? I’ll come and let you know when he’s ready.”
Bobby was waiting for them.
“We’ve got all your stuff, Bobby. Well done volunteering for pony duty. The girls will help you get ready, but we’re going to need to undress you first - so girls? Out please. I’ll call you back in a minute.”
Once they had left, Nicole instructed him to undress completely.
“Go on. I’ll turn my back.”
“I’m ready, aunt.”
“Right. Now you’re out of your device you should have some basic protection. I don’t want you to get nipped by the zip. So put this on please.”
She handed him a thick, opaque red condom with a small neck.
“It’s lubricated so it should go on easily. Put everything in. The neck is tight so it’ll stay in place.”
He rolled it on. He had to stretch the neck out to get his balls in, and when he released in it gripped him tightly. By the time Nicole had unpacked the suit he could already feel his neatly-packaged member beginning to swell.
The suit was not quite what he was expecting. It was elaborate and the colours looked so natural.
“Is that it?”
“That’s it. Now let’s get your bottom half in before I get the girls back. Step in, there’s a good boy.”
“But why…? The hooves…” He’d noticed the hooves were half way up the legs.
“You’ll see, Bobby. That’s it…”
He stepped in, first his left leg, then his right. The inside of the suit was very slick and glossy, so his legs slipped in easily. The feet were weird. Like short, oval-ended flippers each with two straps attached. The hooves stuck out from his knees! And he noticed there were heavy loops welded to the fronts of the upper thighs and the ankles.
“What are these loops for?”
“You’ll see.” Nicole tugged it and pulled the main zip up a few inches, until it was just below his chest.
“Girls? You can come in now.”
They needed no second bidding.
“Woo! It’s so pretty!” exclaimed Ellie.
“Help me with his arms – one each side, please. Bobby, put your arms in…quick now.”
His arms slid in just as easily as his legs. There were hooves sticking out of his elbows! And the same flat oval pouches for his hands, again with two straps on each. More welded loops, just above the wrists and at the backs of the arms. Nicole checked everything was in place, then with an effort zipped the suit right up to the neck, which came just under his chin. She stood back.
“So far so good. Now, Bobby, hold still while I fix your arms.”
She adjusted the hoof on his right arm, at the same time doubling his forearm back till the flat pouch containing his hand was folded onto his right shoulder. Then she went round behind him and buckled the two straps tightly to two corresponding buckles welded to the suit. She repeated the operation with the other arm.
“Is that comfortable?”
“Sort of…”
“Girls? Help be to lay him over that bale, face down, so I can attend to his legs.”
At last Bobby was getting the idea. “Aunt? I won’t be on my hands and knees then?”
“Knees, yes. Hands, no.”
The girls had got the idea too, and enthusiastically lay him down and held him still. Nicole folding up his calves and buckled his flipper-feet to buckles welded to his lower back.
“There. How does that feel? Can you lift him off and let him stand on the floor please, girls. That’s it.”
Bobby stood there on knees and elbows, afraid to move.
“Hmm. The back’s nice and straight. Try taking a step.”
“It feels funny,” moaned Bobby.
“Oh, you’ll get used to it, darling. Don’t disappoint Magda. She’s so proud of you.”
“Is she?”
“She thinks you’re the best. I’m sure she fancies you. Anyway, you’ll feel much happier when we’ve consolidated your limbs.”
She took four broad, short black leather straps out of the bag Now the purpose of the loops became plain. She dealt with his arms first, threading a strap through the wrist loop and the loop at the back of the arm on each limb. She tightened and buckled them, drawing the two halves of his arms tightly together, and forming a single pony leg.
“Oww..”
“Shush. Get used to it.”
She did the same to his legs, pulling ankle and thigh firmly together to form the pony’s back legs. She was then able to tighten both the hand and foot pouches another notch or two.
“Now try to walk. Come on, Bobby, we don’t have all day! Phoebe, lend me you whip a minute.”
A smart crack down one flank got him moving.
“Ow! Aunt, no! Look, I’m walking!”
The girls beamed with delight. This was better than their wildest expectations.
“Thank you. See? You can walk perfectly well. Maybe a little wobbly, but you'll have time to practise. Good. Now let’s get you tacked up.”
“He looks like a real pony!” screamed Phoebe.
“If you think he looks like a pony now, Phoebe, wait till we get his hood on!”
She unpacked the heavy rubber hood, squatted by his head, and, holding by the integral steel cheek-rings, began to work it down over his face. Ellie squealed when she saw the ears. Bobby made one last protest.
“Aunty… No… Don’t…”
The hood was equally glossy inside, and with one final effort it snapped home, encasing his whole head so that only his eyes and nose were visible. A little pressure on the inbuilt ball-gag, and it slipped neatly into his mouth and lodged firmly behind his teeth. Nicole stroked his ears affectionately.
“There we go – no more objections, no more questions,” she smiled. “And now he can’t hear a word we’re saying, either.”
She threaded the pink leather collar through the loops and buckled it up at the throat. “Now, head harness. Jasmine – pink head harness please – in that Fantastex box. There should be three elements. Thank you.”
It was a simple matter to attach and tighten the headpiece, the chin and neck straps, until the whole head harness was tight and firm.
“Can you see a pair of blinkers as well?” asked Nicole. “Yes, that’s them, thank you. We might as well put them on too in case he’s trying to peek!” She clipped them to the cheek-straps, ignoring Bobby’s imploring gaze, but smiling sympathetically and giving him an affectionate pat on the cheek.
Next on went the reins, clipped to the cheek-rings, and then it was time to saddle him. The girls were eager to help. Ellie smoothed down the saddle-cloth, and while Phoebe held the little saddle in position, Jasmine threaded the girths through their loops and tightened them. Nicole tested the saddle.
“Excellent! Nice and firm. Now let’s attach the stirrups. If you do that side, Jasmine, I’ll do this.”
They attached the little silver stirrups to their leathers, and the leathers to the stirrup-bar on the saddle.
“Give them about this much clearance from the ground, Jasmine. What, about six or seven inches? Thanks to the hooves the rider shouldn’t have to ride too short, I don’t think.”
“Who’s going to ride him, miss?” asked Ellie, excitedly.
“Actually I don’t know. I think there’ll be a few prospective riders arriving shortly. Whoever it is, she’ll need to look smart and have a good riding style as well as being quite small. It’s important we give a good impression of the Centre. That’s what today’s all about.”
“I wish I could ride him,” sighed Phoebe.
“Maybe later, this evening, you’ll be able to play with him. No promises, mind.”
“Could we?” begged Phoebe. “What time are you taking him home?”
“Taking him home? Well we hadn’t really worked that out. We’ll all be tired. I was thinking that maybe he could stay in his stable overnight, and we could collect him tomorrow, some time. But you guys would have to look after him…”
There was a chorus of approval, Jasmine hugging Ellie and Phoebe bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Okay, well we’ll see… Right, now… Jasmine, could you please tether him to that ring? Just use the ring on his collar. That’s it. Thank you. Well, girls, what do you think of our new pony?”
“He’s cute!” laughed Phoebe. “I love the way he’s all strapped up like that so he doesn’t have any choice but to be a pony. I can’t wait to see someone riding him round the field.”
“Did you see his little sad face when miss was strapping up his arms and legs – well, I mean his legs, now! It was hilarious!” added Ellie. “And look at his little hooves! He’s even got proper shoes!”
“Yes,” smiled Nicole. “On the stones he’ll go “clip-clop” just like a proper shod pony. We’ll take him out shortly and let him run around a bit.”
“He’s beautiful,” remarked Jasmine. “All he needs is a tail, and he’d be perfect.”
“Funny you should mention that, Jasmine. Ellie, pass me that bag, if you would…”
-
Chapter 57
Nicole was smiling as she held up Bobby’s tail.
“What do you think? Would this do?”
“Is that his? Oh god, yes, miss! How does it attach? Can I do it?” cried Phoebe.
“Well there’s a special system… I think I’ll have to ask you to help me here.” She looked around at them with a wicked smile, and held up Bobby’s butt plug. “It’s a two-piece accessory, you see…”
Jasmine was the first one to fall in. She spluttered, and covered her mouth.
“Oh my god! Is that…what I think it is?”
“What is it?” asked Phoebe, puzzled.
“It’s not…a butt-plug?” screamed Ellie.
“Yes, Ellie, that’s right. A pony-tail butt-plug. Would you like to see how it works?”
The girls, giggling ecstatically, gathered round.
“So this part, as you can see, is the plug itself. We insert this into the pony, so…” – she mimed the action – “and when it’s inside as far as it will go, we attach the pump to the valve, here – there’s a mini-pump the box, Phoebe… Yes, that’s it…and give it three good pumps. Go ahead and have a go.”
Phoebe rode a bike. She knew exactly what to do. She pulled the flexible connector from the end of the mini-pump, attached one end to the pump and the other to the valve on the plug. She gave three good hard pumps. At each pump the rubber egg twitched and swelled, until it was twice its original size. Phoebe gasped with delight. Ellie, fascinated, grabbed the pump in one hand and squeezed the inflated egg between finger and thumb.
“Ooh… Feel it… It’s quite firm…”
“What will that feel like…” mused Jasmine, thoughtfully.
“It won’t be uncomfortable,” said Nicole, “but it will effectively anchor the plug so it won’t some out even if someone pulls his tail. I’ll show you how to connect the tail in a minute, but first there’s one other feature you should see.”
She took out her phone, touched the screen a couple of times, and at once, with a quiet buzzing, the egg started vibrating. The girls stared open-mouthed as she turned up the power to full, and the outline of the egg became a blur.
“Miss! Can we borrow your phone? I mean later. Please?” begged Ellie.
“I’ll get the app for you. But you mustn’t use it unless I give you permission.”
“Okay. Okay. We promise. Don’t we?” The others nodded vigorously.
“All right. Now Phoebe, deflate the plug. It’s finally time to give our pony his tail. Who wants to fit the plug? Hands up.”
Three hands shot up simultaneously.
“I see. Okay, you’ll have to play rock, paper scissors to see who gets to do it.”
A minute later a cry of triumph announced Phoebe as the winner. The other two were disappointed, but both expressed their desire to assist.
“Right,” said Nicole. “Well, we’ll need two of us here to hold his back legs steady, and one to sit against the wall and hold his head. Jasmine? Could you do that? I’d like you to film his expressions as well, and tell us if he seems to be in any discomfort.”
“Okay. I can do that!”
When they were all in position, Phoebe picked up the plug. Nicole, sitting with her legs wrapped around Bobby’s off-hind, dribbled lubricant over it while Phoebe rotated it slowly. When it was ready, Nicole nodded.
“Can you see where it has to go, Phoebe?”
“Yes. The hole in his suit’s right over it!”
“Good. Now push it gently in…”
At the touch of the plug Bobby flinched and emitted a muffled squeak.
“That’s right. Twist it back and forth…take your time…okay…pull in out a little and then push it back… How’s he doing, Jasmine?”
“He’s being really good… Oh, there goes a little tear… He’s fine…blushing a little… I think he may be a smidge embarrassed, that’s all… There, there Bobby, won’t be long now and you’ll have a lovely sparkly, swishy tail…”
“How’s it going, Phoebe?”
“I think it’s getting there, miss. I push it in an inch or so, then pull it back…like this. Then each time goes in a tiny bit further.”
“Show me. Yes, I see. Just keep doing that, then… Plenty of time…”
“He’s going cross-eyed,” laughed Jasmine. “I can’t see what you’re doing, but I think he’s enjoying it, Phoebe!”
“I’ll just keep on doing it then…”
She was quiet for some moments, focussing on the job in hand. Then,
“Oh! Oh! Look!”
“What happened?” cried Jasmine.
“It’s in!” she cried. “I didn’t even push it that hard! It just suddenly, like, got suc-ked in all at once! Look, miss! See?”
“Well done, Phoebe. You really cracked it!”
“Actually it was quite fun, miss! Can I do it next time too?”
“We'll see. Now what do we have to do next?
“Now we have to inflate the egg!”
“That’s right.”
“Please, miss,” cried Ellie. “Could I do that bit?”
“Would you mind, Phoebe?”
“No, that’s okay. I got to put it in, anyway.”
Ellie picked up the pump and carefully screwed the connector to the valve in the middle of the plug baseplate. She gave it three good firm pumps, and as she did so, the baseplate popped through the aperture in the latex suit and was pulled tight into the cleft between Bobby’s buttocks. He squirmed violently and made a strange whining sound in a rising key. Everyone laughed.
“Well I guess he felt that,” said Jasmine, from his head, without stopping filming. “His eyes went all big and surprised when you pumped! I’ll show you in a minute.”
“Okay, Ellie, take that off now, and we can attach the tail. Can you pass it to me? Thanks. Now, all we have to do is to screw the two plates together. The little threaded flange on the plug marries up to this socket on the tail plate. We pushed them together, like this…so they sandwich the latex between them… Then screw them together… And when they click – there, hear that? - now they’re quite solid, and won’t come apart. And Bobby the pony has his tail!”
“We did it!” cried Phoebe, excitedly. “We made Bobby into a real pony!”
“We did, darling. And you gave him his tail! So give it a little tug, to make sure it’s firm.”
Phoebe tugged in several times, eliciting a cute little squeak from its owner each time.
“So miss? Can we…take him out for a walk now.?” she asked, hopefully.
“I don’t see why not. I’ll text Lavinia. Will you lead him, Jasmine? Make sure he doesn’t try to run away? And Phoebe? Better bring your whip in case he needs a little encouragement…”
-
This is so great stuff, wow please keep the sadistic treatment up, thanks a lot.
-
Chapter 58
They prepared to leave the stable. Jasmine attached a leading rein to Bobby’s left cheek-ring.
“Just a moment,” said Nicole. She squatted down and pulled out Bobby’s earplugs, and whispered quietly but firmly in his ear.
“Now remember you’ll be representing Pitt’s Wood today, Bobby – the Centre, Miss Poole, Magda, and all the committee and the employees. I want you to be positive and do your best. Please don’t let us down. You can do it. Remember, it’s half term next week, and if we need to keep you like this for extra training, there’s no reason why we can’t…”
So there it was, thought Bobby. Magda offered a carrot, Nicole waved a stick. But neither need have worried. They should have realised. He was a good boy, not a lout, and he would always do his best for them. All he wanted was to make them happy. Maybe that was the true source of his submissiveness…
Nicole opened the door and Jasmine led him through. A moment’s hesitation on his part was dealt with by the slightest touch of Phoebe’s whip on his flank. As he emerged into the sunlight he thanked god he was wearing a hood and blinkers which hid most of his face. Emerging into public view for the first time, his worst nightmare now was being recognised.
She led him up the gravelly path, his hooves making a satisfactory crunchy clopping sound on the surface – though Bobby himself could hear nothing. He could just see ahead of him Clare and his aunts emerging from reception, followed by Miss Poole and Magda. He hadn’t yet got the knack of coordinating his legs, and once or twice he stumbled, but, desperate to impress Magda, he persevered and made it to the top without a tumble. He saw the initial expressions of surprise on their faces as he drew closer, and Clare laughing and clapping her hands in delight. He saw Miss Poole beaming with approval, and whispering congratulations in Nicole’s ear. He particularly noted Magda’s affectionate gaze, and the little wave and wink that was intended for him alone. As they came up to the smiling group, Jasmine turned him right, presumably so they could get a good side view, and led him onto the grass, neatly-mowed in preparation for the photoshoot.
Even on the path the hooves were so well padded he’d felt not the slightest discomfort, and on the turf his legs felt almost springy. But as she led him around the field to show him off, his clumsiness became apparent, and he quickly realised the need to develop new ways of moving if he were to make a convincing pony. After only a few minutes he was already adapting, learning to pick up his hooves to prevent them catching on the ground, and to slant his legs slightly outwards when turning to maintain good balance. He also became aware that being a pony demanded relying on muscle groups that he had not used as a human, and already his shoulders and upper thighs were beginning to ache with the effort. But he was a strong boy, and never lacking in determination when circ-umstances demanded, so as he was being led around, uphill and downhill, he was already working out how to cope with the new demands. At this stage he had no idea what plans had been made for him, but he feared his ponification had turned out to be such a successful experiment that it was unlikely to be terminated soon. He hoped it would end with a few turns round the field and a couple of photos that day – but he must be prepared for the worst. On the positive side, his arms and legs were so firmly trussed up that he began to forget he had hands and feet, and was already thinking of his limbs as four legs. He felt surprisingly comfortable – save for a certain tightness in his nether regions – and with his hood and blinkers on, was aware of little more than the ears bouncing softly on his head, the faint regular brushing of his tail against his inner thighs, and his lungs suc-king in the air through his flared nostrils in deep, regular breaths.
After three circuits Jasmine brought him back to the group to let him rest. The ladies sauntered over.
“You’ve done a great job, girls,” said Nicole. “He really seems to be getting the hang of it.”
“Yes, he’s a quick learner all right,” said Phoebe, running the flap of her whip down the side of his buttock.
Magda went and stood by his head, ostensibly to tug playfully at his ears; but she made sure to plant one boot right in front of his nose, so close he could smell the rubber, warmed by the sun. His heart beat a little faster, a trickle of sweat ran down one cheek, and he felt his tightly-sheathed member harden into full erection. Ellie had sat down on the grass, and noticed the bulge in the crotch of the suit, which was made of slightly thinner latex to facilitate the use of the crotch zip. She grinned. “Look, Ellie,” she whispered, “see that? I think he’s secretly enjoying this…”
Ellie giggled. “Pity we can’t use the vibe…”
Phoebe pulled out her phone and checked it was installed and ready to go. Looking up, she encountered Nicole’s frown and the slow wagging of her finger.
“I wasn’t going to miss. I was just checking, that’s all...”
Nicole nodded her approval. They were good girls, all three of them. Trustworthy, just as she had been told.
“His potential mounts should be here soon,” said Miss Poole, checking her watch. “Why don’t you walk him some more, Jasmine? Perhaps vary the pace a little? The more practice he gets before he’s mounted the better. But well done, all three of you – he looks a treat!”
“Yes, Miss Poole. Thank you, Miss Poole.”
“Oh, wait a moment,” said Magda. “Isn’t that Lucy Clark from the Gazette going into reception? Yes, it is. I’ll go meet her.”
She disappeared into reception, and a few minutes later the two of them emerged, in animated conversation. Magda introduced her to everyone, Miss Poole first.
“Welcome to Pitt’s Wood, Ms Clark! Thank you so much for coming. There’s only so much we can do by ourselves, you understand, so we’re very grateful to you - and the Gazette - for taking the time come and see for yourself.”
“No, it’s a pleasure, I assure you. And such a lovely setting on this gorgeous spring day.”
Lucy Clark was a thirtysomething with untidy black hair and black-rimmed glasses, wearing a check skirt and a Barbour jacket and clutching a tablet. All at once she caught sight of Bobby, stopped in mid-eulogy and stared.
“Is that him? My god, is that really a boy in there?”
Jasmine pulled him round to face her, smiled, and snapped off his blinkers.
“Say hello to Ms Clark, Bobby. Oh, you can’t, can you?” she added, with a smirk.
Lucy Clark dropped to her knees.
“Bobby! What a pleasure to meet you!” She ran one hand along his back. “You’re a bigger boy than I expected. How old are you? Oh, I’m sorry…”
“You see, Ms Clark…” began Nicole.
“Lucy, please.”
“Yes, well, you see, Lucy, as Bobby can’t have a normal bit like a real pony, he’s equipped with a special one built into his hood and tensioned by his harness. But we can answer any questions you have. Bobby’s sixteen, seventeen in October. He’s in year eleven and after he’s taken his GCSEs this spring he’ll be moving up into the sixth form. Also he’s quite well-grown for his age, and quite strong, which makes him perfect for playing ponies.”
“And – whose idea was this? I mean to use him for publicity and to help the younger kids to learn to ride?”
Bobby was staring hard at the journalist’s mouth, trying desperately to lip-read, but he could only make out the odd word.
“Ah, well, Bobby always likes to help, you know.” She allowed herself a cheeky smile. “At home he cleans all my boots for me, and he waits on me and my friends hand and foot! He’s quite the housemaid! The last time he visited Pitt’s Wood, Miss Poole made some random remark about him being as spirited and fizzy as a little pony. He latched onto this, and suggested we get him a pony costume so he could appear as a pretend pony at the next event! Well, we liked the idea so much we had this really nice one specially made for him, as you see. He was so pleased with it, and when Miss Poole suggested he might appear in the Centre’s publicity material, he jumped at the idea. We got to talking about other things he might do, and as he was really eager to do some teaching, and to help out with the younger members, or those not used to horses, he offered to serve as a sort of introductory mount for the novices.”
Lucy Clark was beginning to get sentimental. She crouched down with her face close to his and gently stroked his cheek.
“Oh, Bobby! You’re such a kind, thoughtful boy! I see so many boys of your age getting into trouble and being anti-social, and here you are simply doing things for others! You’re such a good example, and don’t worry - I’ll make sure we give you lots of coverage in the paper and on our site.”
The ladies exchanged satisfied glances.
“And do you have any long-term plans?”
“Oh, yes,” said Miss Poole, enthusiastically. “After today we hope Bobby will take on his pony persona every weekend. Today we’re auditioning to find a regular rider for him, someone who can help train him with a view to his appearing at our big dressage event in the autumn – you know, as a fun performance to close the show.”
“Well! He should bring the house down. I’m going to make sure to follow his progress right through to the autumn, and further if necessary. Do you think he can actually be taught dressage?”
“I hope so – within limitations, of course. But today we’ll just be filming for our website and taking a few snaps for our new poster campaign. It’s early days.”
“Quite. Now, will I be able to get an interview later? Maybe with that hood off?”
“Oh, of course. But Bobby asked that you don’t publish any pictures of him without his hood. He’s very modest and the last thing he wants is to be recognised and swamped with attention, particularly just as his exams are coming up. I hope you understand.”
“Absolutely, Miss Poole. I would have expected no less from him.”
“Miss Poole!”
It was Magda. “Miss Poole – I think one of the prospective riders is here. Shall we…?”
-
Chapter 59.
A lady in a blue coat had appeared outside the offices, with a little girl in tow. Magda quickly went over and ushered them down to the group.
“This is Mrs Finniston and her daughter Mary. Mary has volunteered to trial for Bobby’s mount. She’s twelve, but quite small for her age.”
“Thank you for bringing her, Mrs Finniston,” smiled Miss Poole. “Mary? This is Bobby the pony. Do you think you’d be able to ride him?”
Mary looked startled. She looked at Bobby, then up at her mother, and back at Bobby again. Her mother also looked a little surprised.
“Goodness… I didn’t imagine… Darling? Do you think you could sit on him?”
Mary was no more than a metre thirty-five. She wore a puffer jacket over a white vest, white breeches and rubber boots. She held her whip in one hand and her hard hat under the other arm. Her mousey hair was tied in a short ponytail. She walked round and looked at Bobby’s face.
“That’s a boy. He looks pretty silly, mummy.”
“Mary!”
“Well, a bit silly… I can ride him, I think, if you want…” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Look at his ears…”
“Okay, Mary, well you can go first,” said Lavinia. There should be a couple of others… Oh, I think that’s them now.”
The receptionist was directing two more ladies with their daughters down to where Bobby stood.
The first pair were both dressed in riding gear. Lavinia recognised the mother as a regular at Pitt’s Wood.
“Hi Jane.”
“Hi, Lavinia. Hi everyone. I’m Jane Taylor. This is my daughter Esme. We’ve come for the publicity…..”
Her voice trailed off. Both she and her daughter were staring at Bobby.
“Thank you so much for coming,” began Miss Poole. “This is Bobby. We’re looking for a regular rider to come at least every weekend and help train him. Do you think your daughter might be able to help?”
Mrs Taylor hadn’t taken her eyes off Bobby. “Esme?” she said, distractedly. Esme was obviously a practical girl, and quite unfazed by seeing a boy-pony. She went up to Bobby, stroked his back, and patted his head. She was a little taller than Mary, and dressed in a similar outfit, though with a white shirt and Pony Club tie, her dark hair tied in two beribboned bunches..
“Yes, mum, I can ride him all right. He’s bigger than I thought he’d be.”
“Okay, thank you very much,” said Miss Poole. She addressed the final pair. They were slightly different. The mother looked as though she was dressed for the West End, not a riding school. She had long straight blonde hair, glitzy designer sunglasses, what looked light designer clothes and bag, and thigh boots with stiletto heels, which were sinking into the turf. The daughter was also dressed to the nines. Lavinia and Nicole exchanged amused glances. “The girl rides at Fleetwood,” whispered Nicole. “I’ve seen her a couple of times. If she can ride as well as she dresses…”
The mother returned Miss Poole’s greeting with an unsmiling nod.
“Clarissa Burlington. My daughter, Mélisande. Darling? What do you think?”
Mélisande was smaller and prettier than either of them. She was immaculately turned out in what was clearly an expensive riding habit – petrol blue breeches with a matching hat and jacket, white shirt with a white stock secured by a gold pin, and German leather riding boots with little blunt silver spurs! Her blonde hair was gathered in a hairnet at the back of her head.
“You want me to ride that? Seriously? I wouldn’t be seen dead on something like that. Can you imagine what my friends would say?”
“Darling, it’s just for publicity. Any publicity is good publicity. You’ll be in the paper. I might even be able to wangle an article in a national daily.”
“No thanks.”
Miss Poole was displeased. “Pity,” she said, curtly. “This is a challenge which will test the competence and versatility of any rider. I’m sorry you don’t think you’re up to it.”
“That’s not what I said! I can ride better than either of these two. They’re not even properly turned out!”
“Darling, please don’t…”
“I’ll do it, mum. Just for the fun of it. I’ll show them what proper riding is!”
Lavinia turned to Magda. “What a little brat!”
“A rude, spoilt little bitch,” added Magda. “Like her mother, no doubt.”
“She shouldn’t be allowed to take part, with attitude like that,” said Sarah.
“All right, ladies,” said Miss Poole, propitiatingly. “Let’s allow her to show us what she can do, anyway. I’ll overlook her rudeness for the time being.”
“Ah, here’s Zeta,” said Magda. “We can get going. Hi Zeta? Camera ready? We’re about to start.”
Zeta was a girl of about nineteen, with straight, unkempt blonde hair streaked with red, a laughing face, red lipstick, red nails and fingerless black leather gloves, wearing a short check skirt, ankle boots and a leather jacket. She held a professional-looking video camera with a furry mike. She jumped for joy at her first sight of Bobby.
“That’s him! He’s so cute!”
All this time Bobby had been becoming more and more anxious. The signs were not good. He hadn’t previously attached any importance to the saddle on his back. He’d considered it just a prop. But now… Were these little kids really going to get on his back and ride him? He hoped he was wrong, but… Shit. Jasmine had unclipped the leading rein, and that first one had put on her hard hat and was approaching!
The next moment she had put her foot in one stirrup, thrown her leg over him, and seated herself astride him. She was no weight, but her mere presence on his back was enough to make his cheeks burn. Magda smiled with satisfaction, and took her first photograph. Mary sat there for a few seconds, fidgeting with the tack, then he felt the reins tighten on his mouth, she gave him a gentle kick in the hips, and he found himself walking forward, being encouraged along by little regular taps of her whip down his shoulder!
She rode him two circuits of the field, Magda and Zeta following and taking a few test shots. As she came back for the second time and dismounted, Esme was preparing to take her place. Mélisande, who had been making derogatory remarks throughout the performance, was looking on with a sour expression on her face, shaking her head.
“What was that? She just sat there and let him saunter round. I don’t call that riding.”
Esme was a little heavier, and kicked him at every other stride to encourage him to keep going. Bobby got so fed up with this that he stopped dead at the bottom of the field and refused to move. He’d decided this whole exercise was a step too far. He would adopt a policy of non-cooperation.
Poor Esme didn’t know what to do. She dared to give him a half-hearted slap with the whip, but it only made him more determined. She looked up the field at her mother for instructions, before eventually climbing off and walking back looking disconsolate.
“He won’t go, mummy. I don’t know what to do…”
“Never mind, darling. Ponies can be very obstinate at times…”
“Your mother’s right,” said Miss Poole, kindly. “This one can be quite a handful…”
“Handful?” cried Mélisande. “He’s pathetic! And so are his so-called riders! I’ll show you how you handle a lazy pony!”
Everyone looked at Mélisande with surprise. But she was already marching down the field. She mounted Bobby, made sure her feet were firmly in the stirrups, then gathered the reins in one hand and twisted them, pulling the ball-gag hard into his mouth. Before he could recover from the shock, she gave him three hard smacks on his right flank with her whip. The little group heard the cracks from where they were standing, and saw Bobby jump and lurch forward. Deftly Mélisande switched whip-hand and rein-hand, and administered another three, just as hard, on his left. She dug her little spurs into his flanks and rode him up the hill at a good fast pace, swept past the onlookers – who by this time included half the staff and a number of visitors - and sent him off down the hill again.
“That’s my girl,” murmured her mother, lighting a cigarette.
But he was going too fast, and half way down he lost his front legs and skidded along the ground on his face. Magda was about to go to his rescue, but Miss Poole held her arm.
“Let him work it out. This is interesting…”
Mélisande kept her seat, virtually pulled him up off the floor, and sent him on his way. She didn’t allow him a moment to recover, but drove him back to the starting place.
“Can someone wide the grass off his face, please? I haven’t finished yet.”
Lavinia wiped his nose and cheeks, and dabbed tears from his eyes. She looked at Miss Poole, but Miss Poole said nothing, and a moment later they were off again. But this time, instead of merely riding him, she took him half way down the hill, stopped him, waited a few moments, then tried something else. First she leant right forward in the saddle, took a tight hold of the reins, and began to jerk her body backwards. After a few times she succeeded in making him lift his front legs off the ground. Persevering, she forced him to balance of his back legs for a second or two!
“She’s teaching him a dressage trick!” gasped Nicole. “Making him rear!”
Next, flexing her body to one side and using her whip down his shoulder and flank, she forced him to take little sideways paces, left legs first, then right legs following.
“Now she’s making him do half-passes!” cried Lavinia. “Oh my god! She may be an insufferable brat, but…oops!”
Clarissa Burlington gave her an oblique smile. “As you say, darling…but…”
“I think we have our trainer,” said Miss Poole, brightly, “if, of course, Mélisande agrees. It’ll come with a lot of perks, Mrs Burlington. Free run of the school, free entry to competitions, free entry to dining events.”
“With a friend or two?” drawled Mrs Burlington.
“Agreed.”
“I’ll persuade her. Here she is now.”
Mélisande and Bobby returned to a round of applause.
“Darling… Nice show. Miss Poole was wondering…”
Mélisande threw down the reins and dismounted. “I’ll do it…”
“There are perks…”
“I don’t even care about the perks. He needs a lot of work. No-one else can do what is needed. I saw that today. I want him available every Saturday. And I have this Wednesday afternoon free. I want to make a start then.”
“That’s the day of the committee meeting,” said Lavinia.
“It’s fine, Lavinia,” said Miss Poole. “I agree. He’ll be available for you Wednesday from one o’clock. We’ll provide lunch, and if you’d like to show him to the committee and propose your plan, I’ll provide dinner too and you can bring him into the boardroom. You’re a very accomplished rider, Miss Burlington.”
Bobby, still panting from his exertions, his bottom still stinging from the application of Mélisande’s riding whip, peered closely at the girl who had so efficiently taken him in hand. Her face was vaguely familiar. Could he possibly know her? But he didn’t know any girls of that age, did he? She’d be year seven… Please, no…!
-
Chapter 60
Poor Bobby was in a terrible state of anxiety and confusion. Being rendered totally deaf by the latex hood, he still hadn’t the slightest idea what was going on, or what would happen to him next, let alone what the longer term plans might be. And then there was the girl. Why did she look familiar? Could it possibly be that she was in year seven at his own school? No surely not… All girls of that age looked the same, anyway. In any case, she was just here for the photoshoot. With luck he’d never see her again after today. He began to calm down. Ignorance is bliss…
Magda, Zeta and Lucy Clark were looking over the videos.
“You got some great footage, Zeta. I love this bit where Mélisande took over. Those three strokes of the whip really galvanised him! I don’t think that’s appropriate for the website or the Gazette, though, do you, Lucy?”
“No, I agree,” said Lucy. “But I was so impressed with that girl. Not that I wanted Bobby to get hurt, you understand. But sometimes a little bit of discipline is necessary to persuade someone to produce their best, don’t you agree? She knew exactly what she had to do, and didn’t hesitate for a second.”
“I know,” said Zeta, eyes dancing. “What a little powerhouse! I think Bobby’s learnt his lesson. He won’t be taking any liberties with her. I can still hear the crack of the whip on his bum! Smack, smack, smack!”
Magda smiled. Her two colleagues seemed to have enjoyed the episode quite a lot. “I think we’ll just add this to the archives, then…though, Lucy, if you’d like all the video for your records that’s no problem…”
“Oh, thank you, Magda. Yes, er, perhaps I should have it, just in case…”
“Okay. So well just publish the section where she rides him uphill. They look really good in that bit. Leave out the dressage till he’s more adept, right?”
“I agree. They do look good together, don’t they? I mean, that pony suit is so cool, and Mélisande is so smartly turned out…”
“So all we need are some good stills.” She turned to Mélisande. “Miss Burlington? Could we take some snaps now?”
“Certainly.” She seemed to have lost some of her surliness. She jumped back into the saddle, and turned Bobby’s head back towards the field. “Where do you want us?”
“Let’s do one static session with the fields as a backdrop and one with the stables. Then maybe we could photograph you riding him out along the track.”
The sessions lasted for an hour and a half. At first Bobby was very reluctant to show what was visible of his face, but a jerk on the reins soon persuaded him to overcome his modesty. They were really a very well-matched pair, being in almost perfect proportion to each other. The combination furnished some classic poses, Mélisande straight-backed and breathtakingly turned out, looking straight ahead with one hand on her thigh and the other holding her whip and a tight rein; Bobby level-backed, his chestnut coat shining dully in the sunlight, his little rosy face and pale eyes turned towards the camera.
“Well have a couple of the best ones framed and hung in reception along with the other equestrian portraits,” said Miss Poole. “Ms Clark, feel free to use whichever ones you like. I’ll choose one for our posters next week, and our secretary will be responsible for our website.”
“I’ll send copies of everything to Nicole for her Bobby archive,” added Magda. “I believe Jasmine has already sent her some video from earlier this morning, when Bobby was being prepared. Mrs Burlington had requested copies of everything. We can’t very well refuse her since it’s her daughter.”
“Fine, What happens to Bobby now the shoot’s over?”
“It’s been arranged he’ll stay here as pony Bobby overnight, and Nicole will pick him up tomorrow. Jasmine and the girls are only too happy to take care of him in return for having him as their plaything for the rest of the day.”
“Lucky him. Make sure he goes to nurse in the evening. I’ll ask her to take his tail out for the night, let him use the toilet, and give him an enema.”
“Yes, Miss Poole.”
The three aunts were discussing the day.
“I would say it was a great success,” remarked Sarah. “I think he’ll respond well to his new strict little mistress, don’t you?”
“I’m sure he will,” said Lavinia. “I can’t wait to see how he develops after a few weeks of proper training. And I have to say, Fantastex get my accolades for that amazing pony suit. It fits him like a glove.”
“Yes, it is beautiful,” agreed Nicole. “And they got it to us so quickly. Which reminds me, they were supposed to be sending me some new strap-ons last week, but they still haven’t arrived. They’re closed on Saturdays so I can’t chase them up till Monday. I hope they haven’t got lost in the post…”
Bobby did not have an relaxing afternoon. The girls took him out for a long hack. They were all too big to ride him, but they had a go anyway, until the little saddle became too uncomfortable for him. When they were on a trail well out of sight of the Equestrian Centre, with much giggling and squealing, they unzipped him and let his coc-k, in its shiny scarlet sheath, hang free. Then Jasmine took out his earplugs, and they whispered the most improper suggestions in his ears, about what they might do to him overnight, until they had given him a good hard erection. Then they each had their photo taken sitting cross-legged in front of him, holding the reins in one hand and making a peace sign with the other, their smiling faces framed between his own frowning one on one side, and his stiff, swollen member on the other!
“Gosh,” remarked Ellie, as Phoebe was taking Jasmine’s picture. “I swear it gets bigger every time we see it. In fact, it’s actually pony-sized now, don’t you think?”
“Let me see,” laughed Jasmine, after Phoebe had snapped her. And reaching back, she closed her fingers around the shaft and gave it a thoughtful squeeze.
“I think you’re right! It feels fatter than before…and so hot! Hey! I didn’t say you could take a picture of that, Phoebe!”
“I want to get one like that!” screamed Ellie.
“Me too!” added Phoebe.
So they did.
“But these have to go into our secret archive,” said Jasmine, lowering her voice. “You never know, they may be useful one day. And they’ll be fun to look at, anyway.”
“Let’s put them on a flash drive with a password that only we know,” said Ellie.
“Okay, agreed. And maybe we can make some more nice piccies tonight.”
“What do you mean, Jasmine? What sort of piccies?”
“Well…” She pulled her friends close, and nothing further could be heard but whispers and giggles…
-
Chapter 61
But whatever ideas the girls may have had were overtaken by events. At five o’clock they unscrewed Bobby’s tail, removed his head-harness, reins, hood and saddle, and delivered him to Nurse Wilcox for toileting, a general cleaning-up and an enema. They themselves went for supper in the canteen, and then strolled back to the stable. It was a bit of a mess – boxes from the morning strewn about, a hay bale in the middle of the room, a bottle of lubricant lying on its side by the door. Jasmine stowed his hood and tack in the cupboard, and looked around.
“Let’s clean this place up,” said Jasmine, dragging the hay bale to the wall and picking up the rake. You two could flatten those boxes and take them up to recycling. I’m going to put down some new bedding for the pony.” (By “bedding” she meant, of course, some fresh hay.)
The girls started on the boxes. Phoebe picked up the pink Fantastex box.
“Hey… There’s something left in here. See? It’s quite heavy.”
They gathered round. Yes, the cardboard on the bottom of the box was loose. They pulled it up. Underneath was a heavy package sealed in black plastic.
“What’s this? Shall we open it?” asked Ellie.
“We should,” said Jasmine. “It’s probably more tack.”
The packaging was tough, and in the end they had to pierce it with one of the teeth of the rake, They tore it open. Out fell….
“fuc-k!” cried Jasmiine. “Strap-ons! Four of them! And a box of condoms!”
They stared disbelievingly at each other.
“Do you think…Nicole meant these for us?” asked Phoebe, wide-eyed.
“I doubt it, silly! Look, here’s the packing note. See, it’s a separate order for Nicole. I wonder what she uses them for?” pondered Jasmine.
“Well there’s only one use I can think of,” laughed Ellie.
“Wow…” mused Jasmine. “She must have an interesting sex-life…”
Phoebe was examining the strap-ons with interest. “Look, there are three different designs. There’s two of these…” - she giggled - “…shaped just like extra-long real-life ones, then there’s this cute slim one with a conical tip, and then there’s this bobbly one like a caterpillar. But they’re all made of the same sort of red jelly rubber…and they all have these fake balls at the base. I think that’s to hold the lip of the condom…”
The harnesses were made of the same pink leather that had been used for Bobby’s tack, with steel buckles and rivets.
“Let’s try them,” said Jasmine. Pick whichever ones you like.”
“I’ll have the pointy one,” said Phoebe.
“I like the bobbly one,” said Ellie, picking it up.
“Fine. I’ll have one of the lifelike ones. Here, Phoebe, let me help you…”
“Thanks… Riding breeches are the best for wearing these…”
When they were all strapped on, the girls danced wildly around the stable, screaming and making the soft, flexible dil-dos bounce and gyrate. They were still dancing when Jasmine received a text from the nurse to say Bobby was all done and ready to be collected. Quickly she unstrapped herself, and hid the strap-on in a corner under the hay.
“Right, listen you two. I’m going to get Bobby. Get those things off and hide them. Finish taking out the cardboard and tidy up in here. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes. When I get back, just follow my lead, right?”
Nurse Wilcox was sitting at her desk writing up her report. Bobby was lying on his side on her examination table, looking exhausted.
“Hello, Miss Wilcox.”
“Hi Jasmine. I gather your taking Bobby for the night. He’s evacuated, all cleaned up and washed out, and I’ve washed and disinfected his plug. It’s on the end of the table. He’ll need a new sheath at some point.”
The clean plug was in a clear medical bag.
“He needs some rest. He’s had a hard day. I suggest you put him to bed straight away. Love that butt-plug, by the way. I must get one for my husband.” She laughed. “Stop him talking out of his arse, if nothing else!”
Jasmine helped Bobby onto the floor, and allowed him to walk back to the stable at his own pace.
“You can sleep now, Bobby. We’ve put down nice fresh bedding, We’ll stay with you all night, in case you want food or water or need to go to the toilet.”
“Thank you, Jasmine. What’s the time?”
“It half-past six.”
“I’m sorry I’m so tired. It was really hard today, especially that girl…”
“Mélisande?”
“Is that her name? Where did she come from? No-one told me anything about being ridden. I hope that’s the last I see of her…”
“Oh dear…”
“Oh dear?”
“I’m afraid she been appointed as your official rider and trainer…”
“What?”
“Yes. Apparently Miss Poole wants to train you up for an appearance at the autumn dressage competition. Training starts Wednesday, and then every Saturday.”
“No! Please, no! Are you sure?”
“I’m sorry. That’s the plan, anyway.”
“Shit. Do you know who she is at all? She looked familiar.”
“No idea, except that she a spoilt, privileged brat…”
“You can say that again. Would you be able to find out anything about her?”
“Probably. I’ll have a word and see what I can turn up.”
“Thanks, Jasmine.”
“That’s all right, darling.” She bent down and gave him a kiss. “We’re here. Let’s get you to bed.”
-
Chapter 62
Bobby lay down on a thick bed of hay, and fell asleep almost at once. The girls sat around in silence. Eventually Phoebe spoke.
“What’s the plan, Jasmine?” she said, quietly.
“Let’s go and have a drink. He’ll sleep for hours now. After we come back we can sleep ourselves. When he wakes up – I guess it’ll be early morning - we can play some games with him. Nicole won’t be here till nine at the earliest, so we’ll have plenty of time to have some fun.”
“Great! Let’s go then,” said Ellie. “We can talk about it in the pub.”
They were back from the pub before ten. They had a quick shower. Ellie and Phoebe had elected to sleep in the dormitory, while Jasmine went back to the stable. They reckoned Bobby should have had enough sleep by four, and agreed to meet at the stable at that time. Jasmine undressed and climbed into her sleeping bag, and was asleep within minutes.
She was awoken just before four by a touch on her shoulder. She yawned.
“Hi…what’s the time?” she murmured.
“Just before four,” whispered Ellie. “He still asleep, but he’s stirring. What shall we do?”
Jasmine quickly unzipped her sleeping bag, slipped out of it, and got dressed in clean breeches and a shirt which she knotted at the waist. She pulled on her riding boots, retrieved Bobby’s hood, head-harness and collar from the cupboard, and lay down beside him.
“Bobby?” she called softly. “Bobby – time to get up, sweetie…”
He opened his eyes a slit and raised his head. Jasmine had his hood over his ears before he could take any evasive action, and throwing one leg over his body to hold him still, she fitted and buckled his collar. He must have clenched his teeth, though, because the ball-gag wasn’t in his mouth. She soon dealt with that by the simple expedient of holding his nose until he surrendered and allowed it to snap into place. The others help get him back onto his hooves. Then she buckled on his collar and head harness.
“There, that’s more like it! I think we’ll have the blinkers too, if you wouldn’t mind, Phoebe – oh, and you’ll find a short tether in there too. That’s it. Thank you.”
“I hope you had a nice sleep, Bobby,” she said, as she snapped on the blinkers. “Hold still!” she shouted, loud enough so that he might even have heard.
She tethered his collar ring firmly to the tethering ring on the wall. With his head down his ears just touched the bricks. He tugged at the tether and made muffled noises of protest, but Jasmine ignored him.
“There we are. Now, Nurse Wilcox said he should have a new sheath.”
She went to the cupboard and took out a packet. Kneeling down by Bobby’s side, she unzipped his crotch zip, allowing his coc-k to hang out. It was semi-tumescent, and it was easy to roll on the opaque red sheath and snap the narrow neck in place behind his balls.
“There, that looks more like a real pony. Where are those strap-ons, Ellie? Thanks, Let’s stick to the ones we liked, shall we?”
They strapped them on. Phoebe and Ellie helped each other with the buckles.
“Make it really tight, Ellie,” said Phoebe. “I want to feel it’s really my own coc-k.”
“Okay… How’s that?” she asked, buckling it as firmly as she could. “Tight enough? It’s so cool, having a coc-k. I’m gonna get one of my own and surprise my boyfriend!” She wrapped her fingers around it and flexed it up and down. “Specially a nice long one like this.”
“So… Who’s going first?” asked Jasmine.
“I should,” cried Phoebe, “Cos my one’s the thinnest!”
“Yes, I think that’s a good idea,” agreed Jasmine. “Break him in gently. Ellie? Could you please bring the lube, and a condom? Great. Phoebe, here you are – roll that down over the whole length…right over the balls so the lip goes behind them…that’s it. Now, Ellie, I’ll hang onto this leg, you take the other. Not that he’ll be able to do anything about it anyway.”
They held Bobby’s back legs still, and Phoebe took up her position behind him. Ellie doused the condom with lube. The squishy dil-do was indeed an odd shape – A conical top, rounded at the end, on a shaft that widened towards the base. It looked a bit like some strange species of elongated toadstool. The shaft itself was covered with little rounded buttons.
Bobby was trembling slightly, Jasmine noticed.
“He probably thinks he’s about to get his butt-plug back. So this should be a pleasant surprise. When you’re ready, Phoebe.”
Phoebe, biting her lower lip in anticipation, moved forward till the tip of the dil-do slipped into the hole in Bobby’s suit. A little push, and it slid easily through, with a faint ‘pop’. Feeling the point pushing between his buttocks, Bobby stiffened, and clenched them together as hard as he could. But he had no chance. Phoebe placed her hands on Bobby’s lower back, and when she pushed gently forward, the soft, lubricated head slid in effortlessly.
“It’s in!” she gasped, excitedly. She looked at Jasmine for advice “Shall I…?”
“Do whatever you want, Phoebe,” smiled Jasmine.
“Okay….”
She edged closer, legs slightly apart, knees slightly bent, till her thighs were just touching Bobby’s legs. She thrust her hips slowly forwards. She was surprised how easily the dil-do slid into him. Encouraged by her success, she dug her nails into his back and pushed forward as hard as she could. It went in up to the hilt, eliciting a whine of surprise from Bobby. Her face lit up. She turned to Jasmine again.
“I did it, see? It went in easy! He’s taken the whole thing!”
“Gosh, Phoebe,” laughed Jasmine, with mock surprise. “Fancy that! Whatever are you going to do next?”
She smiled innocently, and put a finger to her lips, as if considering her options.
“Hmm. I think I’m going to…give him a good, hard fuc-king!”
“Phoebe! Really!”
She pulled back, drawing the glistening shaft out nearly its whole length – then thrust forward again, harder this time, making the leather plate of the strap-on smack against Bobby’s bottom. He quivered and moaned - and she gasped as the tight crotch strap bit into her pussy. That was an unexpected bonus! She pulled back and thrust in again, with an even more satisfying result; the strap oscillating with her movements and working its way further in, taking the seam of her breeches with it. She groaned. Just fuc-king her pony like this was exciting enough, but this was the icing on the cake. She settled into a steady rhythm, the leather slapping against Bobby’s buttocks at each thrust.
“Is that nice, Bobby?” she murmured. “Do you like being fuc-ked by your girl groom, like a proper little fuc-kpony?”
Ellie, gobsmacked, shuffled back against the wall, took out her phone, and began recording a video – “for posterity”, as she said later. After a couple of minutes Phoebe increased her pace. By now her panties were slippery with her juices, the strap deep virtually inside her, the seam of her breeches rubbing against her clitoris. She was moaning with pleasure. Bobby’s muffled whimpers only made her more excited. It was a totally new experience. She was normally on the receiving end, but now she was the one with her squirming partner firmly impaled on her coc-k and being mercilessly fuc-ked! She knew she was going to c-um very soon.
Noticing that Bobby squirming seemed less calculated to escape Phoebe’s attention than to reciprocate it, Jasmine detached herself from his leg and slid back to the opposite wall from where she could observe his face. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his cheeks scarlet, his nostrils flared. Moreover his coc-k, long and hard and quivering at every thrust, looked about to burst out of its rubber sheath. The little spherical reservoir at the tip was already filling with his juices. It dawned on her that, so far from being the helpless victim, Bobby was a willing participant in this game where Phoebe was playing the male, and he the female – both of them perfectly at home in their inverted roles. She had no time to cogitate on this realisation, however, since at that moment Phoebe emitted something between a cry and a sob, gripped his waist and, mouthing inarticulate obscenities, slammed the dil-do in as hard as she could, her body convulsing in orgasm. That coup de grâce triggered Bobby’s own climax. He moaned, his body tensed, and he came simultaneously, his sperm pumping into the sheath.
-
Chapter 63
Jasmine had never witnessed anything quite as erotic - the pair of them locked together in the throes of a massive double climax, moaning and shuddering, oblivious to everything except their own pleasure. It was a full minute before their orgasmic frenzy subsided. Phoebe slid out of him and collapsed onto her bum, eyes closed, breathing hard. She supported herself on her arms for some moments, then simply allowed herself to fall back onto the soft hay. Bobby, propped on his four rigid legs, was emitting a faint, satisfied hum. His coc-k was slowly beginning to droop and soften. The reservoir at the tip of the sheath was now the size of a ping-pong ball, and heavy with his c-um.
“My turn!” cried Ellie, putting down her phone.
“Ellie, please,” said Jasmine. “Let him recover. Give him half an hour.”
“Oh,” she said disappointedly. “Okay then… I guess… Phoebe? You’ll have to film me just I like filmed you, okay? Yeah?”
“Yeah…okay,” came the faint response from the hay.
But Ellie’s turn was destined to be interrupted.
The previous evening, Nicole had had a call from Clare.
“Hi Nicole…it’s Clare.”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Fine. I wanted to thank you for sending me the videos from yesterday. Great stuff! I’ve been showing mum. She loves them. She loves that smart little girl.”
“Oh, good. Yes, it was fun. It’ll be interesting to see what she can do with him.”
“Right. I also wanted to ask if I could collect him tomorrow morning. Mum has a few friends coming for lunch, and she’s told them all to wear their best boots. So it would be nice to have Bobby the boot boy in attendance.”
“Oh, help yourself. I understand the girls put him down early yesterday – not surprising! Lavinia and I will be there between six and seven. We need to get him out of his pony suit – I’ll bring it home for cleaning ready for next Wednesday. And to make sure all his tack’s neatly stowed away. Then we’re going for a little hack. I think Jasmine said she’d stay in the stable with him overnight. You didn’t really get a chance to say hello to any of the grooms today, but they’re really nice girls – you’ll like them.”
“Yes, I’d really like to meet them. I know they’ve helped a lot with Bobby’s training.”
“They have. So I’ll bring a boot boy outfit with me and he can shower and change there before you take him away.”
“Oh, thanks, Nicole. I’ll go by bike, and take an extra crash helmet for him. See you in the morning then…”
On Sunday morning, Nicole had just parked, and she and Lavinia were starting up the path to the building, when the roar of a motorbike announced Clare’s arrival. They waited for her to dismount, take off her helmet, and follow them.
“Hi, ladies.”
“Hi, Clare,” said Lavinia. “How are you?”
“That was good timing,” said Nicole. “We can go together and sort out the pony.”
They set off up the path together.
“That’s a pretty cool bike,” Nicole remarked. “And pretty cool leathers. I like your style, Miss Clare…”
“I’m sure you have leather stuff a lot more sophisticated that this…”
“I have no idea why you would say that…has Lavinia been saying something she shouldn’t?
“Clare smiled, but said nothing. Nicole gave Lavinia a look, and turned back to Clare.
“I’ve brought Bobby’s boot-cleaning kit as well as his uniform. I think I can say he’s fully trained as a traditional boot boy. In fact I’m going to suggest to Miss Poole he adds that to his duties here. There’s obviously a demand!”
They turned right at the offices and headed down along the row of stables. Though it was early, stable staff were already busy feeding, grooming, mucking out, and saddling the horses. There was no sign of activity outside Bobby’s stable, however.
“Do you think he’s still asleep?” said Lavinia.
There was a narrow window high up on the facing wall. Nicole, being the tallest, and seeing a breeze block against the wall, dragged it under the window and stepped up to take a peek. She gaped.
“What the…”
Bobby had had his half hour’s rest, still tethered to the wall, and Ellie had taken up her position behind him. She was preparing to penetrate him with her “caterpillar”, which was shaped like a string of cojoined bobbles tapering towards the tip, the smallest was the size of a marble, the largest a golf ball. She had the tip resting against the little tail-hole in Bobby’s pony suit. Phoebe was slumped against the far wall, a bored expression on her face, her phone resting on her knee, apparently recording proceedings, whilst Nicole could just see, by peering downwards, Jasmine’s extended legs and the tip of her strap-on.
“What are they doing to my nephew?” she gasped.
However, the understandable assumption that they were taking advantage of his helpless and restrained state was quickly dispelled. Ellie tilted her hips slightly, and the first two or three bobbles entered the tail hole in Bobby’s pony suit. Bobby squirmed…and then thrust backwards enthusiastically, driving the dil-do farther in! Nicole did a double-take.
“Why, that little pervert…” she murmured.
“What’s going on?” whispered Lavinia.
“Oh, nothing much. Your girls are doing their job, Bobby seems to be having fun…” And added , in an undertone, “to judge by the size of his erection…”
“So…”
“Yes, go in. Why not?” she said, mischievously.
Clare led the way. She pushed open the door and entered with a smile, eager to meet the girls.
“Hello, I’m Clare. I saw you yesterday. I….”
She broke off abruptly. Ellie had started and half turned, eyes wide with surprise. The dil-do slipped out popped into view. Clare stared at it, not understanding. Phoebe and Jasmine looked on, horrified. Lavinia clapped her hand to her eyes.
“For goodness’ sake…!”
Nicole sauntered in, suppressing a smile.
“Okay, everyone. No-one move. Ellie, I said no-one.” She folded her arms and leant against the wall. “So, girls, this is how you groom your pony, is it?”
“M-miss… I can explain…” began Jasmine.
“You can? Go ahead then, Jasmine. Explain.”
“Yes,” added Clare, sarcastically. “Do explain, Jasmine. Please do. Tell us what you think you’re doing to my maid.”
Jasmine looked startled. “Y-your…m-maid?”
“Oh, yes, of course, you wouldn’t know, would you. I don’t suppose you even bothered to ask. Bobby is first and foremost my housemaid, and…”
“But he can’t hear us…and anyway, he can’t speak…the ball-gag…”
Nicole spluttered, unable to suppress her mirth any longer. Lavinia was also grinning.
“I’m afraid there’s a lot you don’t know, Jasmine,” said Lavinia. “Yes, it’s true. Bobby has multiple roles, housemaid, boot boy, and now pony. Clare, don’t be angry with them. They’re good girls, and I think they were just trying to give Bobby a little treat. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“Yes, miss,” piped up Phoebe. “That’s it! He really liked it when I…” She indicated the dil-do quivering at her belly.
“Oh, Phoebe! You’ve already had a go, then?” laughed Nicole.
“Yes, miss,” she cried, eyes wide with innocent honesty. “And he really, really enjoyed it! I mean, you should have seen him c-um…”
“I have a video!” added Ellie, pulling her phone out of her pocket as evidence.
Nicole was shaking with laughter. She slid down the wall till she was sitting on the hay. “Show me. Thanks.” She started the video. “So you found those strap-ons…?”
“In the Fantastex box,” said Jasmine. “I’m sorry. We couldn’t resist trying them on, and then…”
“One thing led to another… Yeah, we get it,” said Lavinia. “But you know girls, you’re going to need Clare’s permission to do this sort of thing. Right, Clare?”
“What? My permission…?”
“Well, Bobby’s your charge. So what do you say?”
“I, er…”
“Is it okay?”
“Well, I guess…”
“There, girls. Clare says it’s okay. So…you can carry on.”
Ellie looked from Clare to Lavinia to Nicole, not fully understanding.
“It’s okay,” said Nicole. “You can carry on. Do you need more lubricant?”
“Er, no… You mean…now?”
“Yes, silly. Don’t mind us.” She was still viewing Ellie’s video. “Phoebe? You’re a natural. What a technique! Are you telling me this is the first time…?”
Finally realising she was being complimented and not reprimanded, Phoebe went all in.
“Yes, first ever. It’s great. It’s much better than sex with my boyfriend. This is much more exciting, and I love the feeling of being in charge!”
“Oh! You came too, did you?”
Phoebe coloured. “Yeah…the strap…”
“Ah, I see, yes. Did you know there are strap-ons with an extra dil-do for the wearer attached to that strap?”
“Phoebe’s eyes widened. “What? Really…?”
“Oh yes, Phoebe. I think you and your friends need to come visit me one day. I have a few things I think may interest you.”
“Really? Yes please, miss!”
“All right, Phoebe, we’ll make a date for you all to come round. Oh, but it looks like Ellie’s overcome her shyness. You’d better start filming again. Go, Ellie!”
-
Chapter 64.
Nicole’s little chat had quite dispelled any reticence the girls may have been feeling, and Ellie and then Jasmine went at it with enthusiasm.
“He likes this better than being ridden by that little brat!” gasped Ellie, as Bobby quivered with pleasure under the steady pumping of the bobbly shaft. “She’s a bully…”
“She’s right,” said Phoebe. “It’s not fair she gets to push him around him like that. He’s really our pony now. We should be the ones to say what happens to him.”
Clare, watching with fascination, felt a frisson of jealousy. She was his mistress, after all, and she was being forced to watch mere stable girls pleasuring her servant. Not that it wasn’t exciting. Maybe she should get one of those…” She bit her lip, half in annoyance, half in arousal.
Nicole must have read her mind.
“There’s one strap-on left over, Clare,” she whispered. “I’ll pop it in the bag with his boot cleaning kit for you before I go…”
“Oh… Er, thanks, Nicole…” she murmured, blushing slightly.
When both Elie and Jasmine had taken their pleasure, Lavinia untethered Bobby and lay him down on his side to recover. Then they sat around and discussed plans.
“I’m really sorry, Clare,” said Jasmine. “I had no idea Bobby was your maid.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind sharing him. But today my mum has guests, and he’s going to be their boot boy for the day.” She glanced at the prone figure in the hay. “I hope he won’t be too tired…”
“He’ll be fine,” said Nicole. “Let him rest for an hour, then we’ll get him showered and changed, and you can take him home.”
“When he’s a maid, does he wear…?”
“He has two uniforms, one blue and one pink. The pink one’s made of lovely soft latex. Here, I’ll show you a picture.”
She held up her phone.
“Gosh, he looks so cute,” said Phoebe. “I’d love to have sex with him dressed like that!”
“Of course,” agreed Nicole. “If you’re going to play the boy, he needs to be the girl. Maybe next time we should get him all dolled up in a dress and makeup.”
“Yes! And I’ll be like a real boy!” she said, excitedly. “I’ll get my hair cut short, and wear a shirt and my Pony Cub tie with my breeches!”
“How about some latex breeches with a neat little hole in the crotch for your own dil-do? I can arrange that.”
Phoebe took a deep breath, and blushed crimson.
“I can see that appeals to you. Maybe one Friday night in a couple of weeks you could all come round. Now you’ve seen some of my equipment you may as well see the rest. I wouldn’t offer this to anyone, but I know you’re trustworthy. I’ll keep your secrets and you keep mine.”
“Agreed,” said Jasmine. “Right girls?” They nodded vigorously. “Wow, this is so exciting!”
“It’s settled then. Right. Would you guys like to take Bobby to the shower, get him all clean and fresh, and put him in his boot boy outfit? Then Clare can take him home, and Lavinia and I can get our horses tacked up.”
“Sure, miss! Come on pony! Time to get up.”
“If you could put all his tack away in the cupboard, and pack up his suit and butt-plug and the strap-ons in the big bag and leave it at reception for me to collect later? His boot boy uniform’s in that pink carrier. Clare, where will you be?”
“Oh, I’ll be around reception somewhere. Just drop him off when you’re done. It was nice to meet you all. And I hope I get an invitation to your first visit to Nicole’s.”
“Of course, Clare. You’re his mistress after all.”
The girls attached a leading-rein to Bobby’s cheek ring and led him off up to the offices. Clare followed, in pursuit of coffee and breakfast. Lavinia looked at Nicole with a slightly surprised smile.
“More trainees? Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, that’s five now. Can you handle them all?”
“Darling, they’ll handle themselves. They’ll either click or they won’t. Phoebe…well, she looks like a natural to me. And I could do with a little help down there. Anyway, they can train on Bobby until they’re ready for the real thing. I’m sure he won’t object.”
“Well, he can’t object really, can he? Though I agree he seems to get more passive and compliant every day. I suppose it’s his natural state. After today’s exhibition I’m thinking we ought to start calling him, not boot boy, but butt boy!”
About forty-five minutes later the girls delivered Bobby, clean and glowing, to Clare. He was dressed in pink trainers and knee-socks, short pink latex shorts with red frilling, a short pink vest with “Boot Boy” across the chest, a red baseball cap with the same logo, and pink rubber gloves with red frilling at the wrists. He looked very smart indeed. The shorts had a tight centre seam which separated his balls and kept his erection to one side. He blushed as the girls kissed him goodbye. Phoebe gave him a hug and he hugged her back a little too eagerly, Clare noticed. Again that little pang of jealousy. Maybe he was developing feelings for her. After all, she was actually his first physical lover.
She led him down to her bike. She had a plastic bag in her hand which she stowed in the pannier. She put on his helmet – he looked funny in his outfit with a big crash helmet – and then her own. She climbed onto her bike and revved it.
“Get on. Hold on tight. Put your arms right round me.”
“Clare? Miss, I mean…?”
“Yes, Bobby?”
“Your mum’s friends…is it the same three as before…?”
He rather hoped I would be. At least he would know the score then.
“Oh. No, sorry to disappoint you. You liked them, didn’t you? It’s three new ones. She’s actually got quite a lot of friends. You’re probably lucky it’s only three…”
As she rode up the path to the roadway, she experienced the comforting feeling of his coc-k pressing against the small of her back. She smiled. Mum’s friends were going to have such a nice surprise!
-
Chapter 65.
The ride was uneventful. They had received a certain amount of attention, mainly from car drivers as they stopped at traffic lights. The vibration of the bike and the pressure of Clare’s back had brought Bobby’s unruly member to a state of full tumescence. As they entered the house they could hear the sound of loud chattering and laughter from the kitchen.
“Sounds like they’ve had a few drinks already,” murmured Clare.
Bobby frowned and hung back. She grinned, took his hand and pulled him through the house to the kitchen.
“Hope you’ve all got your best boots on, ladies,” she announced. Bobby the boot boy’s here!” And she pushed him into the centre of the kitchen.
There was a moment’s stunned silence as Wendy’s friends took in the vision before them. They were all in their mid to late thirties, and looked the type who knew how to have fun. They had been unable to get much out of Wendy about the new servant, whose gender she had described as “flexible”. But now things were clearer. He stood in their midst, reddening, hands clasped modestly over his taut latex pants, staring at the floor.
“Ladies, meet Bobby,” grinned Clare. “He’s our little treat for you. As well as our live-in housemaid, he’s a fully-trained boot boy, and his only function today will be attending to your boots, cleaning and polishing them until they shine. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”
Silence.
“Bobby?”
“Y-yes, miss Clare…”
“There, see? He’s a little shy just now, so don’t tease him too much yet.”
“Clare, darling, you’ve met Cindy here and Donna, and this is Georgie from my work. Georgie, Clare.”
“Hi Georgie. Hi, girls.”
Georgie was short, with black hair, and almost black laughing eyes. She wore a white blouse, black pleated skirt, black tights and ankle boots.
“Hi Clare…” she said, not taking her eyes off Bobby for a second. “Wow! He’s a sweetie, all right. Where on earth…? And that little outfit! Those pants… Latex, right?”
“His aunt supplies all his outfits. She’s an expert.”
Donna was giggling. She has mousey hair, and wore a short, sparkly, figure-hugging green dress and thigh boots with stiletto heels. She had obviously taken the boot advice to heart. “Bobby?” she said cheekily. “Are you going to say hello? Put your hands down, darling, and let us have a good look at those cute little panties. There…good boy… Goodness…”
Bobby had reluctantly unclasped and lowered his hands. He felt terribly conspicuous, not least because he was the tallest person in the room. As usual when he was wearing his rubber boot boy shorts, his erection refused to subside, despite his acute embarrassment. His cheeks were burning. He bit his lower lip and kept his eyes lowered. He could see the long bulge of his swollen member lying diagonally across his tummy, the fine latex stretched taut over it – and in the ensuing silence he could feel every eye in the room feasting on the sight. Finally Wendy broke the silence.
“Well, ladies, I should start preparing lunch. Clare, maybe show them into the lounge? Bobby might as well get started, don’t you think? Don’t forget your kit, darling.”
“Yes, mum. I’ll be back to help in a minute.”
She ushered the women out of the kitchen. Bobby hesitated.
“Come along, Bobby. Time to do your stuff.”
Once in the lounge the women seated themselves, Georgie in an armchair and Cindy and Donna on the sofa.
“I’ll bring you some drinks,” said Clare. “Was it G and Ts all round?”
Donna gave her a thumbs up, and she disappeared, leaving Bobby standing awkwardly on the carpet holding his little case. He went to open it, but Georgie stopped him.
“Just stay there a minute young man. I think it would be nice if we get to know you a little first of all.” She smiled a mischievous smile. She hadn’t finished admiring him, or enjoying his obvious embarrassment. Cindy and Donna nodded in eager agreement.
Bobby himself was desperate to kneel or sit, to make his plight less obvious, whilst the object of his self-consciousness seemed to have a mind of its own, and to be revelling in the attention. He stood there, shifting from one foot to the other, unsure of whether to put his case down or continue to hold it. In the end he put it down, and stood there pretending to be at ease, but not knowing what to do with his hands. He felt like an overgrown child who had been caught doing something naughty, and was now being interrogated about it. He assumed what he thought was a goody-goody expression – which only made him look more silly – and held onto the frills of his shorts in an unconscious desire to make the legs longer than they were.
“So, Bobby…” Georgie began. “How come you chose to become a boot boy?” She suppressed a snigger. “Did you do a course?” She looked at him with assumed innocence. She was the smallest of the three guests, with rumpled black hair, wearing a short pleated skirt, and little soft ankle boots.
He felt he was being mocked, and though he was in no position to take offence, he was not going to let them put him down.
“Actually my aunt trained me,” he replied, a little haughtily. “She knows pretty much everything about leather and” - he was going to say “rubber”, but he thought better of it - “er, other materials…”
“Ooh, that’s your aunt who got you that uniform, right?” interrupted Donna.
“Er…yeah….”
“You’re lucky to have an aunt like that,” remarked Cindy, with a friendly smile. “In general aunt’s have a poor reputation, don’t you think?”
There was something motherly about that smile that appealed to him. She had soft brown eyes and full lips. Her outfit was anything but motherly, however: a short, expensive-looking leather jacket worn over a tight red jumper, emphasizing her breasts, black faux-leather leggings and well-fitting vinyl boots just over the knee. Whatever it was about her, the words came tumbling out.
“I guess…but she’s really cool, and cos my mum has to work and travel abroad a lot she looks after me most of the time… That’s to say, I live in her house mainly, but I move around quite a bit – like at the moment I’m helping out Clare – I mean miss – and I do a lot of stuff for my aunt’s friends, like Lavinia and Nicole, and…”
“You sound very busy, Bobby. Wendy tells me you’re even helping out at the riding stables at the moment. What do you do there?”
Bobby fidgeted uneasily. “Oh, er, you know…just, like, general stuff…”
“Well, I expect they must have lots and lots of riding boots that need cleaning…”
“Oh…yeah, that’s right. Yeah, I’m gonna apply for a job there in the summer…”
Clare came back with the drinks on a tray. She put them down on the coffee-table.
“Don’t you already have a job, Bobby? Won’t you be helping out with the dressage in the autumn?”
Bobby froze. He looked at her pleadingly.
“Oh, you’re talking about applying to be the stable boot boy! Yes, Lavinia mentioned that. I’m sure Miss Poole will jump at the idea. Miss Poole’s the owner, Cindy.”
“Oh, I see. Well she should, definitely. Will you wear your uniform, dear? It would be perfect, I would have thought. If your shorts get muddy it’ll just wipe off. Though you’d have to be careful not to snag them… They’d probably burst! That would be a disaster!”
Everyone laughed. Everyone except Bobby. Not funny! He blushed again at the thought, and tugged at the legs of his shorts, which felt as if they were riding up. His disorderly boyhood, like a child that seeks attention by making a mess of its room, had for some minutes been leaking onto his tummy, and now the leg bands were slick with its juices, so that despite his efforts to pull them down they simply slid up again, revealing glistening thighs. He was beginning to panic. Clare grasped the opportunity.
“Oh, no, Cindy. This latex is actually quite durable. Here, feel for yourself.”
And putting her hands on Bobby shoulders, she pushed him forward till he was standing right in front of her. Donna, sitting beside her, presented with a close-up view of the firm, sausage-shaped bulge in Bobby’s pants, put a hand to her mouth, her eyes big with delight. Both women were enveloped in the scent of warm latex. Cindy, quickly recovering from her surprise, took Clare at her word, hesitated, lifted her hand and took the frilling around Bobby’s left leg between finger and thumb. It felt slightly slimy, but she persevered, and gave it a gentle tug. At once a little stream of clear juice trickled out and made its way stickily down Bobby’s thigh.
“Oh! Er…” was all she managed to say, as she let the frilling slip from her fingers and snap back onto his flesh. Donna’s mouth fell open. She looked from the trickle of juice to Bobby’s burning cheeks and back again. Seeing it was about to reach the top of his sock, she thoughtfully took a tissue from her bag, arrested its progress, then wiped his leg. She smiled and shook her head.
“Boys will be boys. Clare, I think Bobby is a little too, er, overwrought, to start on our boots right now. I think we should perhaps, help him out a little.”
Without waiting for a reply, she stood up, took him by the shoulders, and turned him through one hundred and eighty degrees, then pushed him gentle down onto the sofa. She sat down next to him, put an arm around him, and without further ado, placed her hand on the soft bulge of his balls.
“Cindy? Will you help?”
Cindy, emboldened, smile. “Of course. Now Bobby, just relax and enjoy, darling…”
She slid her hand over the straining latex and closed her fingers softly on the shaft, which was lying flat against his tummy on her side of the seam. She gasped.
“Gosh… So hard…and so hot…”
Clare seated herself on the arm of the sofa next to Cindy, from where she had a good view. Georgie climbed out of her armchair and sat on the other arm.
“It just needs a little love…” murmured Donna, caressing his balls. Bobby’s head fell back and he closed his eyes.
Cindy began massaging gently, rolling it back and forth with the palm of her hand, making Bobby moan with pleasure. Then she carefully slid it over till it was vertical, the head just below the waistband of his shorts, so that the slightly thicker centre seam fitted neatly into the cleft in the glans. Then all she had to do was to wrap her fingers around the shaft while using the long scarlet nail of her index finger to scratch at and probe the trapped cleft. The inevitable explosion was not long coming. Bobby cried out, arched his back, and gripped the women’s thighs.
“Woops!” said Cindy, with mock surprise. But she kept massaging that sensitive spot, and a moment later, to the accompaniment of Bobby’s moans and sobs, the c-um was pumping from the tip of his coc-k, so powerfully that it spurted out from the waistband onto his vest and his bare midriff, and all over the front of his shorts and Cindy’s and Donna’s hands.
As his climax slowly subsided, leaving him slumped and gasping, the audience gave the protagonists a little round of applause. Wendy had appeared at the door.
“Whatever is going on in here?”
“Nothing mum – just giving Bobby some relief.”
“So I see! I thought someone was being murdered in here. We’ll have the neighbours knocking at the door shortly.” She advanced into the room. “Goodness, what a mess! He must have needed that! Clare dear – when he’s quite recovered would you help him get cleaned up? At least we’ll be able to eat lunch in peace, without his…his thing demanding attention. Cindy, dear – it’s all over your hand – oh, and your leggings!”
“I know, Wendy. It was worth it though. It’s a long time since I’ve witnessed an eruption quite like that!”
“I’m sure. Probably not since you were also a teenager.”
Bobby had opened his eyes.
“I-I’m sorry… I should go get cleaned up…”
“Don’t apologise darling,” smiled Georgie. “I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Only thing is… it’s made me rather horny… And it’s all your fault…” She gave him a strange look.
-
Chapter 66
Bobby was packed off to shower, while Clare washed his shorts and vest. By the time he came out his shorts were clean and powdered and his vest hung up on the washing line. So he sat down to lunch in the dining room with all the elements of his uniform except his vest. Georgie, sitting opposite him, seemed to be taking a particular interest in him.
“You’ve got quite good muscular development, Bobby. Do you work out?”
“A bit. I play a lot of sports, anyway. It’s good to keep in shape.”
“Yes – he’s as strong as a little pony!” put in Clare, mischievously. “You know, Bobby, I reckon you’re strong enough to be ridden like one, too. What do you think?”
Bobby glared at her. The others looked puzzled. It was obviously a private joke.
The ladies had been drinking white wine with their lunch, and after they had finished eating they needed a refill.
“Bobby? Bring in the wine from the fridge, would you. There’s a good lad,” said Wendy.
Bobby was quick to comply. His role as housemaid hadn’t yet been mentioned, and he was eager to keep it that way, or they would all be clamouring for him to show off his uniform. He poured the drinks and put another bottle in the fridge to cool. He knew what Wendy’s friends were usually like. He was hanging out in the kitchen when he heard giggling from the dining room, followed by Clare’s voice.
“Boot boy! You’re needed. Come here at once please.”
He sighed and made his way through.
“Georgie can’t wait any longer. Get your stuff.”
“Okay. Where would you like to sit?”
“Right where I am.”
“What, you want me to crawl under the table?” he scoffed.
“Exactly. You’ll be on your knees anyway. What difference does it make?”
He shrugged. “Whatever you say, miss.”
He knew she was wearing only short ankle boots. They wouldn’t take long. He remembered they were of very soft-looking leather, with thin, flexible soles and little zips up the back. He noticed such things now. So he selected a soft brush, a soft cloth, and a tin of clear wax from his kit, knelt down, and crawled under the table.
There was just room to kneel. He took her right foot, placed it on his thigh, and began to work the wax into the leather using the brush. The giggling bubbled up again. Women! Bunch of schoolgirls, more like. He put down the brush and reached for the cloth. As he did so, Georgie moved her foot off his thigh and onto his flaccid coc-k.
“Hey! What you doing?”
“Bobby! Don’t you dare speak to Georgie like that! Do I have to get the cane out again?”
It was disconcerting how the mere tone of her voice was enough the make any remaining bravado evaporate.
“No, miss. Sorry, miss. Sorry, miss Georgie. I didn’t mean anything…”
Clare smiled to herself. All the training from all the different quarters was definitely having its effect. He accepted his roles now without question. A willing little boot boy in pink latex pants, an obedient housemaid in a pink latex dress, and now a ponyboy at the riding centre! He’d become conditioned to doing anything he was told – witness Damien! Well, if he’d been up for that, she doubted this would be a problem…
Georgie was rocking her foot from side to side, rolling Bobby’s pen-is back and forth. After a short while she felt it swelling and hardening against the sole of her boot. She squashed it gently, eliciting a gasp from under the table, let it recover, and did it again. Poor Bobby, attempting to work on her other boot, barely knew what he was doing. She continued – gentle pressure, ease off, pressure, ease off, in a slow, regular rhythm. It was satisfyingly simple and effective process, and within a minute or two she had worked him up into a full, hard erection. Bobby seemed to have given up on her boot. She let her foot rest there for a while. She could actually feel it throbbing through the leather. She chuckled. It was time. Reaching under the table, she would her fingers in his curls, and, sliding down in her chair and opening her legs, drew his head gently between them.
The loose pleated skirt was ideal, and her panties were in her bag. Her pussy was hot and wet from watching him c-um. She saw the surprise in his big blue eyes, and then she had her hand around the back and his face disappeared between her thighs.
“You had your fun, Bobby. Now its my turn, okay? Well? Off you go, then…”
He hesitated, taken aback by the turn of events.
“Clare? I think you’d better get your cane…”
That had an immediate effect. But unsure of quite how to proceed, he decided to show his willingness by planting a tiny soft kiss on the lips that confronted his.
“Ahh…. That’s better…”
Thus encouraged, he repeated the action several times more.
“Mmm… Oh, yes, Bobby, that’s perfect… Do it at the top, too…”
He complied. Georgie leant back in her chair, resting her hand in his hair, and closed her eyes. After a while her pussy began to respond, the lips swelling and beginning to open like a flower, and becoming moist and slippery. Her friends watched her face, her forehead puckering with pleasure.
“That’s it…oh, god, yes… Use your tongue now, darling…”
A gasp told them he had obeyed her instruction. Bobby was a quick learner, and Georgie’s reactions were his guide. He dutifully resisted the temptation to explore his erection, aware that his sole concern must be for the pleasure of Wendy’s friend, and instead held onto the front legs of her chair. It seemed to be his destiny to be on his knees, and he as beginning to realise that it was in that position that he felt happiest and most fulfilled. His instinct was to serve, to efface himself, whether for the purpose of giving pleasure, of providing amusement, or merely of performing useful menial tasks. It was becoming clear that he could not live his life without the direction of a mistress – or several mistresses.
As his confidence grew, so did his enthusiasm, and within five minutes Georgie was brought to a shuddering orgasm, knocking over her drink in the process. As her convulsions subsided, she broke into gratified laughter.
“Oh, my god… How in the world…? I mean, that was the best…. You’re a natural, darling…”
Bobby’s face, beaming with her praise, and sticky with her juices, popped up from under the table. She ruffled his hair.
“Clare – I want him for my hen party next month. Would you release him for a day?”
“If I’m invited – and if his aunt has no objections. But I think…” – she looked at Cindy’s and Donna’s faces – “I think he may have more urgent business before today’s out…”
Suffice it to say Bobby had a busy evening, and was allowed to sleep in Monday morning. He stayed at Clare’s revising for his exams till Tuesday evening, when Nicole collected him. As he was getting his things together, she took Clare aside.
“I heard from Georgie. I’ve persuaded her to put her party back till after his exams. Then she’s welcome to have him. We’re going to discuss a new outfit, and I have an idea of two for keeping him in a convenient kneeling position. I’ll let you know what we come up with.”
“So tomorrow…?”
“Back into pony training, and I’m hoping he can put in an appearance at the committee meeting. I can’t wait to see their faces.”
-
Chapter 67.
When Bobby and Nicole arrived at Pitt’s Wood the following day, having stopped for lunch in a diner on the way, Miss Poole was there to meet them.
“Good afternoon Nicole. Good afternoon, Bobby. I hope you’re feeling fit today, Bobby. Mélisande is in the canteen having lunch, and she’s her usual energetic self! Now, I just wanted to clarify matters apropos your grooms. You’ll understand I can’t dedicate three girls to your care - even though you are a VIP – a very important pony!” She smiled at her joke. “There too much work to go round and too few grooms as it is. So I’ve decided to allocate Phoebe to you… Oh, I can see from your reaction I chose the right girl!”
Bobby blushed and compressed his lips shyly.
“As a matter of fact she had already approached me requesting the position, so I think everyone’s happy.” She lowered her voice. “Actually, much to my surprise, Mélisande herself applied for the job as well! I would have thought she’d consider grooming below her. In any case, it would have been quite inappropriate to put someone so young in charge of Bobby’s care and preparation. Let her do what she does well, eh? Well, you better get on. Phoebe’s waiting in your table.”
“Will Bobby be putting in an appearance at the meeting?” asked Nicole.
“Oh, yes, we must show our senior members! Mélisande wanted to ride you in by herself, Bobby, but I’ve told her she can ride you, but your groom must lead you.”
“That’s sensible, Violet,” nodded Nicole.
“Yes, I thought so. I think Mélisande has begun to feel proprietorial about you, Bobby. Better be careful she doesn’t abduct you one dark night! Just joking!” she added, as Bobby looked alarmed.
Phoebe was waiting for them, seated on a hay bale. She had had her ginger hair cut in a short, boyish style,
“Hi Phoebe,” smiled Nicole. “Wow, I like your hair! You didn’t waste any time. Congratulations on becoming Bobby’s personal groom.”
“Thanks, Nicole. Yeah, it’s great. My favourite pony. And I’m going to get paid a bonus too.”
“Hi Phoebe,” said Bobby, sheepishly. “Your hair looks great!”
“Yeah, well, if you can identify as a pony, I don’t see why I can’t identify as a boy! Come on, let’s get started. That Mélisande is bound to be waiting at one on the dot.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Nicole. She put down the hold-all she’d been carrying. “Here’s his suit and tail. I have to fraternise with the members – a couple of them I haven’t see for a year! I’ll see you this evening.”
As the door closed behind her, Bobby took Phoebe’s arm.
“Can I feel your hair?”
“Go ahead.”
“I love that prickly feeling at the back…”
“Glad you like it. Now, clothes off and let’s get you ready. And Bobby? Don’t be shy. I’ve already seen everything you’ve got. When I’m your groom you’re just another animal to me…”
With a few minutes Phoebe had zipped him in, and was tightening the leg straps and adjusting the hand and foot fastenings. On went the hood and the collar, then the head harness, and finally…yes, his tail. Nicole had found some thicker, greasier lubricant, and it went it easily. She gave him three and a half pumps, partly out of pure mischief, partly because she resented the fact she was doing all this for the benefit of Mélisande.
“Posh little brat! So she wants my job too now, as well as my pony! I wonder which of her many outfits she’ll be wearing today. Something expensive, I bet, to show off in front of the committee. I hope you throw her, Bobby…”
Bobby had his earplugs in, so couldn’t hear a word of Phoebe’s tirade, but he could sense from a certain abruptness in her demeanour as she tightened his girths that she was feeling annoyed. She checked the saddle, attached the stirrups and then the reins. She sat on him for few seconds to see what it felt like. She smiled. He was strong, and didn’t move an inch as she lifted her feet into the stirrups. She patted his shoulder.
“If we had the time…” She glanced at her bag, leaning against the wall. Inside was her strap-on, a present from Nicole… Her mind began to wander…
The door opened with a bang. Phoebe jumped off, and swung round.
“It’s two minutes past one!” snapped Mélisande. She glared at Phoebe. “Were you astride my pony?”
Phoebe put her hands on her hips. “He’s not yours, miss. He don’t belong to you. You’re just his trainer. So don’t…”
“He should have been outside and ready to be mounted” - she looked at her watch – “three minutes ago.”
She marched over, grabbed the reins, and yanked Bobby towards the door. Phoebe, fuming, could only mutter “bitch…fuc-king little bitch!” as she strode off up the field with Bobby in tow.
At the top of the hill, Mélisande removed Bobby’s earplugs and squatted in front of him. He noticed she looked particularly smartly turned out, even for her, with a crisp white shirt and a tie in the Pitt’s Wood colours of red and green, her petrol-blue breeches and jacket, and gleaming boots.
“Today I’m going to teach you to trot. Because you don’t have proper pony legs, all that means is walking very fast – so fast that you barely touch the ground. That’s all you’re going to do for the next four hours, and for the next four training days if you can’t get it right. Understand? And I won’t spare the whip, so you’d better work. And when we go to see the committee this evening, I don’t care how tired you are, you will look as fresh as if you’ve just come in from the field. Right. There’s nothing else you need to know.”
And with that, she reinserted the earplugs and mounted.
Phoebe, still smarting from their exchange, leant against the stable wall and watched as Mélisande drove Bobby mercilessly up and down the field. Whenever he showed signs of slacking, a couple of cracks with her whip mended his pace. Several of the other stable girls had stopped work to watch, and then Ellie and Jasmine wandered down to join her.
“She doesn’t let him rest, poor thing,” murmured Ellie.
“She will,” said Jasmine, but only after a set time. See? She’s doing intensive thirty-minute sessions. He’ll probably get a five-minute rest now.”
Phoebe had been quiet for a while. At last she spoke.
“Ellie? Do you still have the app?”
“The app?”
“Bobby’s app.”
“Oh, that!” She laughed. “Yes…why? You’re not thinking of…?”
“Lend me your phone.”
“If you do that while he’s running…”
“What?”
“He might fall…”
“He’ll be okay. He’s tough. It’s her I’m after.”
Jasmine held her peace, but took out her phone and walked forward a few paces.
Phoebe waited till they were going downhill. She turned the vibrator to the highest speed and pressed start. The reaction was instantaneous. Bobby skidded to a halt, both back legs lifting off the ground. Amid gasps from the onlookers, Mélisande did a perfect somersault over his head, and landed flat on her back in front of him, still holding onto the reins. Her whip went flying. She lay there for a second, winded, then struggled slowly and undignifiedly to her feet. She glared at the spectators. She retrieved her whip, and advanced menacingly on Bobby, limping slightly. If she hadn’t been aware of all the phone cameras focussed on her at that moment, without doubt Bobby would have had a beating. In the event, she decided it would politic to reserve his punishment until later. So she claimed back into the saddle and rode him hard, booting him in the ribs, back up the hill. There was lots of sniggering, but only the receptionist approached and asked her if she were all right. Phoebe wore a satisfied smile.
“Did you get the fall, Jasmine?”
“Of course, Phoebe. Now, I wonder where to post it…”
“Everywhere would be good.”
-
Chapter 68.
In the event the opportunity to give her mount a good thrashing never materialised. She had an audience all the afternoon, attracted by the hope of seeing Bobby the pony repeat his bucking act. But the girls decided to be satisfied for the time being, not wanting their secret to leak out and potentially warn Mélisande of the cause of Bobby’s behaviour. Moreover it was vital she appeared a responsible horsewoman on this day of all days, when committee members might be mingling with the spectators. So she rode him firmly but relatively kindly for the rest of the afternoon, then tethered him to the wall of the offices while she went to brush her jacket and spruce herself up generally. When she returned she found him surrounded by admirers, patting him, affectionately pulling his ears, and getting photographed with him. The schools were out, and with Miss Poole looking on, there was a queue of young children eager to be photographed in the saddle.
Concealing her frustration, Mélisande greeted Miss Poole with an ingratiating smile.
“Hello, Miss Poole. How are you?”
“Thank you, Mélisande, I’m very well. My colleagues are assembling in the boardroom. We’re all very much looking forward to seeing you and Bobby. About half an hour?”
“Thank you, Yes. But I have to hose him down first. I wonder, could you ask everyone to allow him to…?”
“Oh, of course! I’m sorry.” She addressed the small crowd. “Could I ask you to allow our young rider here to take Bobby off for a quick wash? Then he has to be presented to the committee. Thank you. I hope you understand…”
Mélisande picked up the reins and took him along to the top of the stable block, followed by a small retinue of inquisitive visitors. She stood him by the wall, uncoiled the hose, turned on the tap, and gave him a good wash down, exacting such revenge as she could by spraying him straight in the face. Then she walked out onto the path and summoned Phoebe.
“You! Groom! Come and do your job, please.”
Phoebe came hurrying up. “What is it?”
“I’m taking him to see the committee shortly. He probably needs to relieve himself. That’s your job. Please see to it.”
But Phoebe was equal to the challenge. “Certainly. I’ll try to do it without falling flat on my back.”
She led Bobby behind the stable block to a secluded area, unzipped him, and allowed him to urinate. She wiped him, replaced his sheath, and zipped him up. Then she took out her special water bottle, pushed the tube into his gag, and held up the bottle till he nodded he’d had enough. She knelt down, stroked his cheek and gave him a kiss.
“Never mind, Bobby. She’ll be gone in an hour. Bear up.”
He couldn’t hear her, but he got the message, and nodded his thanks, making his ears bounce up and down.
“Is he finished?”
She found Mélisande standing over her.
“We need to go in. I’m told you have to lead him. Here’s the leading-rein. Let’s go.”
She mounted him, and gave him a slap on the rump with her whip.
“Behave yourself this time!” she hissed.
Phoebe stood up, clipped on the rein, and led him back up to reception. The receptionist smiled.
They’re waiting for you, girls.”
-
Chapter 69.
They made their way to the boardroom. The secretary was waiting outside, holding a notebook. She smiled and opened the door. They clip-clopped inside, across the polished wooden floor. The secretary followed and closed the door behind them. A ripple of admiration ran round the long table in front of the windows. The sunny fields were visible beyond.
Miss Poole stood up.
“Ladies. Allow me to introduce Bobby the Pony, led by one of my best grooms, Phoebe, and ridden by an extremely promising and precocious rider, Mélisande. I’m sure you’ve all heard about our project to publicise the Centre. Bobby and Mélisande will be central to this project, and will appear on all our advertising, on our website, and indeed, have already appeared in the local newspaper.”
Around the table sat Magda, Lavinia, Nicole, Jasmine, and three older ladies. The Secretary sat down at one end.
“Mélisande,” continued Miss Poole, allow me to introduce you to my personal assistant Magda, my friend and long-time adviser Lavinia and her friend Nicole, Bobby’s guardian who’s here as our guest, my grooms’ representative Jasmine, whom I believe you are acquainted with already, and my three principal backers and investors.” She indicated them one by one, each inclining her head in greeting. “This is Diana Murchison, Eleanor Bowditch, and Polly Hunniford. Well ladies, what do you think of our new showcase rider and her little mount?”
The three senior ladies, as Miss Poole had hoped, were quite taken aback. They stared at the rubber-clad pony, with its shiny hooves, long ears and sad blue eyes, and at the girl mounted proudly on his back, smirking with pride.
“Well I never,” began Eleanor. “You mean to say…that’s a boy in there? How in the world…?
“Can we…?” began Diana, rising from her seat.
“Help yourselves. Come and have a close look, please…”
“I must say they make a beautiful pair,” smiled Polly, coming over and absently fondling one of Bobby’s ears and patting Mélisande on the shoulder.
Diana shook hands with Mélisande. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I saw you training it this afternoon. You have such a perfect seat. It must be so difficult to maintain on such a narrow-bodied animal.”
“Not at all, miss. It’s a level-backed pony and it’s learning fast.”
“I understand you’ve only been riding it for a matter of hours, yet you’ve already got it moving at a fast trot, despite it being rather short-legged. You’re a very accomplished rider, my dear. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do with it by October.”
“Thank you. There was a rather unfortunate incident today…”
“Ah, yes. I saw. These things happen. Don’t spare the whip, my dear. It’s the only way to correct such issues. May I suggest a slightly heavier model, with a good broad popper? I have one which I would like to gift to you. May we meet briefly after the meeting winds up?”
“That’s so kind, Miss Murchison. Of course. I’ll wait for you at reception.”
“How are you getting home?”
“My mummy will pick me up.”
“Why don’t you ring her and tell her I’ll take you home, as I’m delaying you. Then we can also have a little chat on the way.”
“Okay Miss Murchison. I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Eleanor was stroking Bobby’s rump. “Such a beautiful, heavy suit! And so realistic! I love his little sparkly tail!” She gave it a gentle tug, making him flinch. “Ooh! He’s so sensitive! It's almost as if it's a part of him!”
“Could we get a little video, Violet?” asked Diana.
“Of course. Mélisande, dear, just take him up and down a few times, would you?”
Mélisande was happy to oblige, urging him on into a trot with a few firm digs of her spurs.
“She’s a natural,” said Polly, admiringly. “Such poise… In a couple of years…”
“She’ll be outstanding,” said Eleanor. “She’ll have him jumping fences,” she added with a laugh.
Diana turned to Miss Poole.
“Violet. I’d love to see him with his hood off.” She smiled. “He looks a handsome boy, but it’s difficult to tell from just the eyes and the nose!”
“Ah. Well… You see, Diana…that may not be possible…”
“Whyever not? Does it not come off?”
Nicole intervened. “Excuse me, Diana. I need a word with Violet.” She took her aside and spoke in a whisper. “Violet. Of course we can’t let Mélisande see his face, especially as it turns out they both attend the same school. But if she stays on his back, and he doesn’t turn his head, it will be okay. Let me supervise and I’ll make sure he keeps his secret.”
“Well, if you're happy with that…”
“I’ll make it brief.”
Miss Poole turned back to Diana. “Okay. It’s just that Bobby’s a bit shy. But you can have a peek. Please go and be seated and Lavinia will briefly remove his hood. But no photos, please.”
The women hurried back to the table and resumed their seats. Nicole unbuckled Bobby’s collar, slipped it out, and then unbuckled and removed his head harness. She carefully rolled his hood up his face. The ball-gag popped out with a little flow of saliva, eliciting a murmur of surprise from his audience. She freed his ears, and placed her lips close to his face.
“Just look straight ahead, Bobby,” she whispered. “It’ll only be for a few seconds. Mélisande won’t be able to see your face from where she is. Ready?”
Without waiting for an answer she pulled his hood off by the pony ears, allowing his mop of blond curls to spring out. The ladies gasped.
“He’s a cute one, all right,” remarked Polly, appreciatively. “Your mount’s a handsome beast, Mélisande. You’re a lucky girl!”
Mélisande would have given anything to get a look at his face, but it seemed she was going to be denied. But as luck would have it, despite Miss Poole’s warning, Diana Murchison couldn’t resist the temptation to attempt a surreptitious photo. Everyone was fixated on Bobby’s face. She had her phone at the ready. She slid her chair back a few inches so she was out of view of her colleagues, raised her phone just above the line of the table top, and took one snap. No-one saw. That is, no-one except Mélisande, who was looking straight ahead, and who, in that instant, determined she would have that picture.
Within a minute Nicole had replaced Bobby’s hood. It was time for the meeting proper to start. Mélisande dismounted, bowed to the table, and left the room. Bobby was led out by Nicole to be relieved of his pony suit and showered. It had been arranged that he would then be dressed in his boot boy outfit, and sent back in with the refreshments, as a treat for the senior members of the committee, who were unacquainted with his versatility. But now Nicole knew Mélisande would be waiting in reception to see Diana Murchison after the meeting ended, she had no intention of allowing him to leave until she had first exited the premises.
-
Chapter 70.
It took a good half hour to get Bobby nice and clean and fresh and into his boot boy uniform. It felt so nice to have his limbs free and that annoying girl off his back that he was almost grateful to get into his pretty pink and red outfit. He pulled up his socks, adjusted his gloves, and pulled on his cap, then made his way to the kitchen and collected a large tray of coffee and biscuits. Nicole gave him a final briefing.
“Be polite. Bow after you put down the tray. Hands behind your back. Be agreeable and willing. Understand?”
“Yes, auntie.”
“And smile. Come on. They’re going to love you. It’s important to Miss Poole that you impress her backers. Be cute, if you like.”
“Yes, aunt.”
“And don’t worry. Miss Poole’s asked them not to take any pictures.”
“That’s a relief…”
“Right. Here we go. She opened the door of the boardroom for him. He entered, feeling rather exposed and vulnerable after the anonymous confines of the pony suit. He coloured slightly at the inevitable gasps of surprise from the visitors. He advanced, placed the tray on the table, bowed, and stood before them, hands behind him, one holding the other wrist, just as he had been instructed. Polly gave him a little round of applause.
“Bobby! That’s such an amazing outfit!”
All three of them were staring at his little shorts. He blushed crimson.
“Thank you miss. My aunt…”
“They’re latex, aren’t they?” interrupted Eleanor. “Very practical.”
“And smart,” added Diana, a big grin on her face.
“Yes,” said Miss Poole, “we’re hoping Bobby, as well as his pony duties, will work as our official boot boy this summer. You can imagine how many boots need cleaning. And you’re fully trained, aren’t you, dear?”
He knew what was expected of him.
“Yes, Miss Poole.”
“Come round, darling,” smiled Diana. “Let us have a closer look.”
He made his way round the table to where the three were sitting. They swivelled round in their chairs, looking him up and down. He could feel his cheeks burning. His embarrassment was obvious, but they clearly found it highly amusing. Diana Murchison ran a hand provocatively down his flank, making him flinch. She noticed three red marks just below the leg band. She said nothing, but, “that girl knows how to use a whip,” she thought.
“Feel that latex, Polly…like silk…”
Polly ruffled the frilling. “Such a cute design…”
Bobby stiffened awkwardly, and looked over at Nicole. She frowned and motioned slightly with her head. He knew what she wanted. Keeping his thighs and feet pressed firmly together, he squirmed as cutely as he could.
“Miss…that tickles…”
Everyone laughed. The three ladies beamed with delight.
Diana Murchison took his hand. “Bobby? Would you consider being my page for a day? It’s my sixtieth in a couple of weeks. It’s a Sunday. I’d love to have you help my maid with service.”
Well, I…”
“Of course I’d pay you. Eleanor and Polly will be there too, so you needn’t be shy.”
“I’m sure Bobby would love to help out, Diana,” smiled Miss Poole. “Is he free, Nicole?”
“For Ms Murchison, of course, Violet.”
“Well that’s settled then. Nicole, I’ll leave you and Diana to work out the details.”
“Of course.”
Bobby felt sick. But there was no time for speculation about what his duties might be. For the rest of the meeting he was occupied ferrying drinks, food, and dirty cups and plates back and forth. Once when he took Magda another coffee, she placed her hand softly on his bottom, and whispered in his ear.
“Don’t forget my boots, Bobby. I won’t wait forever.” She winked.
He gulped. Here mere proximity was enough to make his coc-k stir and begin to swell.
“I’ll find another boot boy if you’re not careful…”
He was going to be busy, that was for sure.
Finally the meeting broke up, and he had to suffer the predictable round of hugs and kisses before he was finally free. When they had all left, Nicole ruffled his hair.
“Great work, Bobby. You made all the difference. Miss Poole’s very happy with you. Now, let’s hang back a bit till Mélisande’s well out of the way…”
-
Chapter 71.
“Mélisande! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long! Let’s go to my car and I’ll show you what I was talking about. So, how long have you been riding? Your technique is flawless…”
Miss Murchison drove a yellow Porsche. She opened the door and reached into the back.
“I think this is what you need. This should break him of any unruly habits.”
She handed Mélisande a short, thick crop with a broad leather flap at the end.
“Try that for feel. Okay?”
“It’s a good weight. I like it.”
“Now look at the popper.”
The leather flap was about five centimetres broad, but it was unusual in that it had two raised horizontal ridges on either side.
“I’ve never seen one like that!”
“Probably not. I had it made especially for a big, insensitive animal I used to own. He couldn’t feel an ordinary whip, but this he responded to. Now that pony of yours has a thick latex skin. After he had changed I noticed the strokes you gave him today were hardly visible. This should be more effective. Have it as a present from me.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll be sure to use it from now on. But you said…after he’d changed?”
“Oh, you know, into his boot boy outfit. Little frilly rubber pants! You didn’t know? Oh dear, me and my big mouth. Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Of course not, miss. But please tell me more.”
“All right. In the car.”
On the drive home, Diana Murchison gave Mélisande a full description of Bobby’s outfit, and an amusing account of his embarrassment.
“Oh, I know we shouldn’t have, but really, we couldn’t resist it. You should have seen him squirm! I mean, how often would you get to see such a big boy like that in such tiny little shorts? And latex, too! They left nothing to the imagination, let me tell you. And apparently – remember this is all a total secret – apparently he’s going to work at Pitt’s Wood as the official boot boy in the summer! It’s true! The girls will be queuing up I should think!”
Mélisande listened in silent astonishment. Who was this Bobby she was training? She wanted to know more, now. And she wanted that photo.
“Did you…er, get any photos of him in his uniform?”
“Regrettably no. We weren’t allowed. But his guardian has agreed I can have him as my page at my sixtieth – that’s Sunday week. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to make up for it then.”
“But you did get one snap…?”
“Oh! You saw. That was a bit naughty, wasn’t it?”
“Can you let me have it? He’s so shy, he hates other people seeing his face when he’s in his pony suit. I have, of course. But I don’t have a single photograph of us from the front. ”
“Well…. Don’t tell anyone, will you? I’ll send it to you when I drop you off. And in any case we should exchange phone numbers. You can tell me how you’re getting on with your new crop… ”
-
Chapter 72.
Mélisande’s house was through a pair of automatic iron gates and at the end of a gravel drive.
“What a beautiful house!” exclaimed Miss Murchison as she pulled up. Oh, I see your mother drives a Porsche too. We both have good taste, obviously. Now, there’s my number – ring me and I’ll have yours. That’s it.”
“Er…the photo…?”
“Oh. Almost forgot. There you go. Oh, your mother’s here. Let me say hello.”
They got out. Mélisande didn’t have a chance to check the photo. She slipped her phone into her pocket.
“Hi mummy. This is Miss Murchison.”
“Hello. Lovely to meet you. I’m Clarissa Burlington. Thank you so much for bringing my daughter home.”
“Diana Murchison. It was a pleasure. And a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Burlington.”
“Clarissa, please, Diana.”
“You know you have a very talented daughter I suppose. Perfect seat and perfect balance. Rare in someone so young.”
“Oh, she’s been on a horse before she could walk. But I’m pleased to hear you say that.”
“Well, a horse is one thing… But a boy-pony! That takes real skill.”
“I hear she’s making progress…”
“Oh, he’s learning fast. He has no choice.”
“And mummy, Miss Murchison’s given me a new crop! Look!”
Mrs Burlington took it and balanced it in her hand. “That’s a good sturdy one, all right.”
“He needs to know who’s the boss, Clarissa. I hope it helps.”
“He can go faster, mummy. He’s just lazy.”
“Thank you, Diana. I’ve just poured myself a drink. Would you care to…?”
“I could have one very small one. Thank you.”
With the ladies ensconced in the large and rather luxurious kitchen sipping their drinks, Mélisande pulled off her boots, dashed up to her room, threw herself on the bed and feverishly tapped at her phone. There was the message….
Her mouth fell open. It’s him! That guy! I don’t believe it! Of all people…
She stared at Bobby’s face for a full minute, then rolled onto her back and stared silently at the ceiling, checking her phone every now and then to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.
At school, the year seven girls were in awe of the seniors, but particularly of the year eleven boys. The sixth formers looked like grown-ups, but the year elevens felt somehow just attainable, and they idolised good-looking ones. Mélisande had two close friends, Charlotte and Amelia, and the guy they fantasized about the most was…Bobby! Up to that moment she hadn’t even known his name, but that blond hair and those blue eyes had even appeared in her dreams! And now she discovered…this! And she had always thought he was super-cool!
Her first impulse was to ring Charlotte and spill everything. She had even picked up her phone. But she quickly realised that would be the biggest mistake she could make. If her friends -if anyone – found out, Bobby would become a laughing-stock, and everything would fall apart. No, she needed to play it cool. She was in a position of immense power, and she must husband that power for as long as possible. She needed to protect him to protect herself. Nevertheless, her relationship with him had changed suddenly, from merely having charge of his pony exploits – to being able to control his entire life!
She spent most of the evening and half the night thinking. She would exploit her knowledge, but with great care. It was known she had won the competition to ride the mysterious boy-pony at Pitt’s Wood, so any connection with a year eleven boy might throw suspicion on him as being her mount. But she wanted to make a connection somehow. Imagine the kudos in having the coolest-looking – she could no longer think of him as the coolest – the coolest-looking year eleven guy as a buddy. She’d be the heroine of year seven. No-one would dare cheek or touch her! But how to manage it….
-
Chapter 73.
By Saturday she had formulated a plan, and done some discreet research in back numbers of the school magazine.
“Here he is… Robert Tucker. Got you, Bobby!”
Bobby must have foreseen things were only going to get harder for him, because he’d spent two hours in the gym each day for the previous three days. Just as well. He knew he was in for it at the first stroke of Mélisande’s new whip. The sound of the smack when it first connected with his flank turned every head in the yard. From then on he was flat out, running as fast as his little legs would carry him, the ridged popper biting at his flesh on alternate sides as his rider showed off her skill in changing whip hand, while the tears streamed from his eyes. When the session finally came to an end he collapsed on his side, his buttocks and upper thighs on fire from the punishment they had received. Mélisande sat down beside him. She was smiling with satisfaction at getting her revenge, and with anticipation of his reaction to what she was about to tell him. She pulled out his earplugs.
“I think you put in an improved performance, Bobby. Do you like my new crop? I was just testing it today – a gentle introduction so you’ll know what to expect from now on. But I have something important to tell you. I know who you are, Mr Robert Tucker….”
She saw his eyes widen in fear. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to out you. It wouldn’t be in my interests. But it would be nice if we could be friends at school.”
Bobby shook his head vigorously. She ignored him.
“To do that without causing suspicion there's only one way - for us to become acquainted by accident. I’ve thought it all through. This is how it’s going to happen. Next Tuesday after school I and my friends get the bus to Charlotte’s house from the stop right outside the school. Listen! This is important. I will let them get on first. As I go to follow, you will come barrelling along the pavement and push in in front of me. I will fall over. There’s grass on the verge there so I won’t be hurt, though I may pretend to be. Make it convincing. There’ll be kids there watching and we need witnesses.”
Bobby frowned, not quite getting it.
“So, then you, realising you’ve knocked me over, will help me up and start apologising. I’ll get angry, and you won’t know how to make amends. You’ll help me onto the bus. Then…well, you just follow my lead.”
He looked at her, puzzled.
“Just follow my lead. Simple as that. You’ll see. If you make any stupid mistakes, you’re toast. Can you imagine if your mates see this?”
She held up her phone. Bobby nearly fainted. She laughed.
“Now do you get it? No mistakes…or else… And let's exchange numbers.”
-
Chapter 74.
It seemed a strange way to begin a friendship. But then, he guessed, it was going to be a strange sort of friendship, one in which he would be at her beck and call twenty-four seven, and in constant fear of discovery. The thought of her being in possession of that photo tormented him. He must beg her to get it off her phone. It was one thing for his aunt and the grown-ups to know his secret – but a girl four years his junior? Girls of that age hadn’t learned responsibility and weren’t governed by the normal laws of rational behaviour. They were impulsive and unpredictable. Every moment of every day he was going to be in a state of heightened anxiety, fearful of what she might do next. And this mad plan of hers demonstrated just how reckless she could be…
Tuesday came. He was distracted all day. She winked at him in the playground during lunchbreak. Suppose someone had seen? The end of lessons came. His heart was beating fast. He was about to hurry out when his teacher stopped him.
“Robert? Can I have a word?”
“Yes, miss?”
“Are you all right? You haven’t seemed your usual cheerful self today.”
“It’s nothing, miss, really. Just, er, thinking about the exams…”
“Is that so? Are you worried? You shouldn’t be. You’ve been doing so well in the mocks. I’m sure…”
“Miss – I have to go. Sorry.”
“Just a second. If there’s anything I can help with…”
Sorry, miss…goodbye…”
He rushed out. He was late now. Perhaps the bus would be late too. “No mistakes…or else…” That’s exactly what she’d said. Shit!
He ran full speed across the playground. As he turned out of the gate he saw the bus was at the stop. He was a good runner. Perhaps he could still make it…
At the bus stop, Mélisande and her friends were about to board. Not seeing Bobby anywhere, she had delayed by pretending to think she had left something important behind, but now the bus was waiting for them. On went Charlotte, followed by Amelia. She frowned. “That idiot…!” But at that moment she saw him, approaching at a rate of knots. At last!
“C’mon, Mellie,” said Amelia. “Get on!”
Okay, he was here. She put on foot on the step.
Possibly Bobby slipped on the grass. Possibly he fell over his own feet. Whatever the cause, he tripped and hurtled headlong into Mélisande. He knocked her off her feet. Her head smashed against the door of the bus and she fell out onto the grass. Bobby’s face came into sharp contact with the metal step, and he rolled bleeding into the gutter. There were screams and cries from inside and outside the bus. The driver turned off the engine. People crowded round to attend to them.
“Idiot! What did he think he was doing?”
“Poor girl!”
“Clumsy great fool!”
“She’s bleeding! Call an ambulance.”
A lady had helped Mélisande to sit up. There was blood in her hair and on her cheek.
“No. I’m okay…”
“You’re not, dear. You hit your head.”
Bobby had climbed out of the gutter and was kneeling on the grass. His lip was bleeding, but no-one was taking much notice. Then a woman pushed her way through the little crowd.
“I’m the deputy head. Don’t call an ambulance. It’ll take ages to get here. I’ll take them to A and E. My cars right there.” She pointed to the school car park. “Don’t move them. I’ll bring it here.”
Mrs Lumley was a brisk, efficient woman in her sixties. She had dealt with many similar incidents over the years and was immune to fluster or panic. Within two minutes she had parked behind the bus, and the two children were being helped inside. Charlotte and Amelia insisted on coming with them. They sat in the back, one on each side of their friend, with their arms round her, holding a handkerchief to her head. Bobby sat in front with a tissue pressed to his lip. Mrs Lumley drove fast, and with typical discretion made no comment about the accident, and simply reassured the children that they’d be there soon.
They were soon sitting in the hospital waiting area, the three girls in a row, Mélisande in the middle, then Mrs Lumley and Bobby. Nothing was said, though Bobby was conscious everyone was blaming him for the accident. If only his teacher hadn’t held him up.
It wasn’t a long wait. Their injuries were minor, and they were soon patched up. Mrs Lumley drove everyone home, Bobby last. She still made no comment about what had happened. Bobby felt it inc-umbent on him to say something.
“Thanks for helping us, Mrs Lumley. I’m really sorry. I was running too fast, and I just tripped.”
“Well you should reserve your apologies for Mélisande. It’s lucky no serious harm was done. Her mother was quite upset. But I must tell you, Mélisande kept insisting it wasn’t entirely your fault. I don’t know how she could say that, but she clearly wanted to protect you. So you should thank her doubly. And maybe think of doing something nice to make amends.”
“I will, Mrs Lumley.”
“You’re both all right – that’s all that matters.” She pulled up outside Nicole’s house, and smiled. “Take care, Bobby. See you tomorrow.”
He had to explain the whole thing over again to his aunt. She was suspicious.
“You weren’t trying to get back at her, were you?”
“No, auntie. I told you. It was just an accident. Mélisande knows that. She even told her mother.”
“She did? I’m going to ring her, anyway.”
“Sure.”
She dialled Clarissa’s number.
“Hi. This is Bobby’s aunt. I’m just ringing to ask how Mélisande is, and to apologise… Oh, thank goodness. Look, I’m really sorry… She does? But he knocked her over… Well, that’s very generous of her… Do you think…? Yes, I wonder. I’m going to ask him. Anyway, I hope she’s all right. Will she be in tomorrow? Oh, good. Let’s keep in touch. Yes, great. Bye…”
She turned back to Bobby. She looked at him suspiciously.
“Tell me… By any chance, does Mélisande know that you’re Bobby the pony?”
“N-no…of course not…”
“She does! I can see it written all over your face! There’s no other reason she would let you off!” She laughed so much she had to sit down. “Oh, Bobby! She’s found out! Oh, you’re in real trouble now! I shouldn’t laugh…ha, ha, ha! No, it’s really not funny. Not for you, anyway…”
“It’s no big deal!”
“No, of course not,” she said, suppressing her mirth, “it’s nothing. Merely that a talkative little first year with lots of talkative friends has just been put in hospital by a boy she rides as a pony, a mysterious boy whose identity everyone would like to know! No, that’s no big deal.”
“It’s not like that, auntie! It was her idea in the first place!”
Nicole stopped laughing. “What?”
“Oh, forget it! You don’t understand. I’m going to my room.”
And he turned and walked out.
Nicole looked after him, puzzled.
“Her idea? What’s going on? What are those two up to? Oh, well, just another twist, I guess. It’ll all come out in the wash…”
-
Chapter 75.
Mélisande had also retired to her room. She lay on her bed, propped up on two pillows. On the bedside table was a can of drink and a plate of sandwiches. She ate and drank slowly. It wasn’t quite how she’d planned it, but the result was better than she could have hoped. There were loads of witnesses, the deputy head had been involved, and she’d been injured with lots of blood. Perfect! Now Bobby would have to apologise, and more than that, he have to treat her – and her friends, she’d make sure of that – and there would be the completely legitimate and justifiable excuse for a relationship between them. Nothing romantic, but a firm friendship in which she’d be the boss and he’d have to be loyal to her. Once that was established, and the whole school could see how an unfortunate accident had brought them together, she could dictate his actions and his behaviour. She would own him, no less. She had to admit it to herself, she was a genius. She would have him under her thumb in every aspect of his life, not merely as her pony. She could use the information she had gleaned from Diana Murchison to consolidate her position. She knew he had some sort of relationship with that annoying groom – what was her name…? Phoebe, that was it. Yes. She’d make sure to put an end to that. Maybe she’d give him to Charlotte. Why not? Charlotte fancied him all right. She could fall in love with him. Till eventually she found out all his little secrets! She’d blab to everyone then. But that would be a long way down the line, and in the meantime there was lots of harmless fun to be had…
There was a soft knock at the door.
“Darling? Are you awake?”
“Yes. Come in, mummy.”
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“Fine, mummy. Much better.”
“Thank goodness. Robert Tucker’s aunt rang me to apologise…”
“Oh? That was nice of her.”
“Yes. That boy….”
“Yes?”
“Is he someone you know?”
“Well, I know of him. I think he’s in year eleven. Charlotte thinks he’s dishy.”
“But you don’t know him personally?”
“Of course not. We’re nothing to the seniors.”
“Okay. Just wondered. You were very quick to forgive him.”
“Yeah. I felt sorry for him, Everyone was blaming him and calling him names, and just because he tripped. But he looks like a good guy. I bet he’ll come and apologise tomorrow. I’ll see if I can get him to buy me and my friends an ice-cream. That would be better than being resentful and making an enemy of him.”
Clarissa looked at her daughter closely, but her eyes were wide and innocent.
“That’s a very grown-up reaction, darling. When you behave like that you make me feel so proud of you…”
-
Chapter 76.
Clarissa wandered out into the field that constituted her back garden and rang Nicole.
“Hi. Me again. I’ve spoken to Mélisande and she seems to have no idea who Robert Tucker really is. It must have been a pure coincidence. Weird, though, isn’t it?”
Nicole had no intention of disabusing her. Anyway, it would have involved implying her daughter wasn’t telling the truth.
“It is, Clarissa. Anyway he seems genuinely contrite. I’m sure he’ll apologise properly tomorrow. Let’s keep an eye on them, shall we?”
After she got off the phone Nicole made herself a coffee and sat down quietly in the kitchen. That Mélisande was something, all right. If it was her idea, it was a rather clever one for a young kid. She thought it through, murmuring to herself.
“So…somehow she finds out Bobby is Bobby the pony…she confronts him…he would be terrified in case she told her friends…. But if she told her friends it would make life difficult for him, to say the least…and it would spoil her summer’s fun. But if she simply lets it go, she loses a golden opportunity to take charge of him, to ride him at school just like she rides him at the Centre, to use him to her advantage. But they have no connection at school, so how to create one? It has to be by accident – by an accident, in fact. She dreams up a plan… He has no choice but to go along with it. And when he gets blamed, of course he can’t spill the beans or the whole story will come out. But equally she needs to contain things…so she’s propitiatory. Maybe she feels sorry for him? No, having seen her using that whip, I don’t think that’s it. No. She needs to smooth the path for some sort of relationship, which might be prejudiced if she showed resentment… That girl… I’m full of admiration. If I have any say, I’m going to help her achieve her ends…”
At school assembly the following morning, the head teacher, as head teachers do, found reason to cite the incident as a parable illustrating the dangers of unnecessary haste. Heads turned towards Mélisande, with a rather dramatic dressing on one side of her head, and Bobby, with nothing more than a cut and swollen lip. He had already received a text from her. “Meet in playground at break. You need to apologise – convincingly” And a laughing emoji.
She was waiting by the basketball post, with her friends, both of whom were looking daggers at him. He presented himself in front of them.
“M-Mélisande… Look, I’m really sorry about…”
“About cutting my head open. Oh, that’s comforting…”
“No, you know I didn’t mean to… It was a complete accident…”
“Yeah,” cut in Charlotte, “we saw. You just meant to shove her aside so you could get on first, but you tripped – cos you’re a clumsy idiot – and pushed her over that way!”
“That’s right,” added Amelia. “And even after you smashed her head against the bus, you didn’t even try to see how she was!”
“I couldn’t! She had people all round her, and those that weren’t were blaming me for everything!”
“That’s cos you were to blame for everything!” returned Charlotte.
Mélisande was grimacing, but her eyes were smiling. Her friends were doing it all for her.
“Look, I was stupid – I admit it – but I can’t do much else than apologise, can I?”
“You could have brought her some flowers,” suggested Amelia, “if you’d been a gentleman…”
Bobby sighed. “I did, actually. They're in the classroom. I was going to give them to you after school, Mélisande.”
Amelia softened slightly. “Really? Bring them now then.”
“All right. I’ll be right back.”
“I didn’t really think he do something like that,” she said. “In fact, I thought he definitely wouldn’t!”
“He did, though,” whispered Charlotte. “Look.”
Bobby had reappeared holding an enormous bunch of flowers – including, Amelia noticed, and never tired of mentioning to her friends for a week thereafter, quite a few red roses!
“I’m sincerely sorry for causing the accident and for you getting hurt,” said Bobby, quietly, “Please accept these flowers, and if there’s anything else I can do…”
Mélisande took the flowers graciously. “There is something else.”
“Yes?”
Her eyes sparkled. “You could take us all for ice-creams after school.”
“All r-right. If you’re all free...”
“We are. Thank you for the flowers. I’ll ask my teacher to put them in a vase. So we’ll see you later then, Mr Robert Tucker,” she added mischievously, just to remind him of the moment she told him she knew who he was. “Come on girls…”
As they turned and went, he became aware that the meeting had attracted quite a crowd. There were whistles and cheers and “ooohs”. One of his mates shouted out something about “you got a girlfriend at last then”, and a random female voice cried, “it’s lurv!” and broke into a peal of raucous laughter. Blushing, he hurried away and sat quietly in the toilets for the rest of break. Where was all this headed?
-
Chapter 77.
They were waiting for him when he emerged from the school building. And so were half the years sevens, and quite a few of the upper school. But he braved it out, walking side by side with Mélisande towards the gate, the other two following behind – “like bridesmaids” suggested a girl from year eight. On the street a retinue of year sevens still clung to them, possibly intending to follow them and see what transpired, so Bobby did something which elevated Charlotte and Amelia’s growing respect for him into something like adoration: he hailed a cab, bundled them in, and ordered the driver to drive to Maria’s, the best ice-cream parlour in town. Even Mélisande was impressed, and began to think she wouldn’t give him away quite so easily as she had intended.
They arrived, a waiter held the door open for them, conducted them to a corner table, bowed slightly, and left them to peruse the menu. Charlotte and Amelia sat on the window side, Bobby and Mélisande on the restaurant side.
“Well girls, have anything you want,” said Bobby. Unaccustomed to being taken out for treats by handsome sixteen-year-old guy, Charlotte and Amelia were rendered temporarily inarticulate by recurrent giggling fits. They opted to withdraw to the ladies room to recover, leaving Bobby and Mélisande facing each other across the table.
“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? What happens now?”
“We have a nice relaxing ice-cream. Then you’ll offer to take us all to the cinema – the film starts at six, and maybe we can go for supper somewhere.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not joking, ponyboy. I mean every word. Get used to it.”
“But…”
“You should know now you can’t mess with me. I do what I say I'll do. So suggest it as if it’s your idea. We can have a nice evening, and we can get to know each other a bit better. Remember…”
She took out her phone and showed him the picture. He panicked.
“Please put that away. I meant to talk to you about that, You can’t leave it on your phone. If someone sees it…”
“I know. But I like the risk.”
“Please, Mélisande… Look, okay, I’ll do what you want… Just be careful with that…”
“If you’re going to do what I want, then do it with confidence. Charlotte and Amelia are already pretty blown away by you. You have a modest sort of way of showing off…”
“What? How old are you? I heard someone call you “precocious”. They were right.”
“Shh. Here they come.”
They got up to let them in. As she sat down, Mélisande said in a surprised tone, “Bobby’s just offered to take us to the cinema, and then later to have some supper somewhere? Can you guys make it?”
The girls stared at him in astonishment.
“Really?” cried Charlotte. “I’ll have to ring my mum, but…wow!”
“Me too,” said Amelia. “Gosh, thanks, Bobby!”
Permission was obtained, and the three of them had a very enjoyable evening – though for Bobby, rather expensive. But he admitted to himself he was enjoying the adulation, even if it was from a couple of little girls. It made a change to be treated with admiration and respect, rather than being forced into one humiliation after another. While they were in the Italian restaurant which they went to after the cinema, Mélisande’s mother rang her and offered to pick them all up and take them to their various homes. It was a squeeze in the Porsche, and Bobby found himself being held tight by both Charlotte and Amelia, which seemed to have reinfected them with the giggling bug. But they were soon dropped off – he managed to escape with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek from Charlotte and a hug from Amelia – and then they headed for his home.
“I think you’ve quite made up for the little accident yesterday,” remarked Clarissa. Mellie sent me a picture of the flowers – beautiful! Did you choose them yourself?”
“Yes – I bought them on the way to school.”
“Well, I think you’re a great guy, Bobby. And you’ve been so kind to the girls tonight.”
I didn’t have much option, he thought, glancing at Mélisande’s smug face.
They arrived at the house, and all got out. “I’m going to say hello to your aunt quickly. She knocked and Nicole invited her in. Mélisande lingered in the garden, and he sat on the front step.
“Was that good enough for you?”
“I think you behaved quite well. You see, when you learn to do what I tell you, things work out nicely. My mummy says you can come round any time. So you're going to ask your aunt if you can stay over at mine this Friday.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Do it now.”
The ladies were having a whispered conversation in the kitchen. “I think she likes him, actually, though I wish she wouldn’t use the whip so freely,” Clarissa was saying, apologetically.
“Oh, don’t worry. He’s quite lazy, actually. The discipline is good for him. Let her do what she needs to. Just look at the results.”
“That’s true, Nicole. They are well-matched. He’s a strong little pony, and she’s a strong rider.”
“Quite. I’m so glad she didn’t hold a grudge for what happened yesterday. It’ll be so nice if they become good friends.”
“I agree. I’ve told Mellie he can come round any time. You know, I can’t believe she hasn’t realised….”
“Aunt?”
“Hello Bobby. I hear you had quite an evening.”
“Yes, it was fun. Auntie, can I stay over at Mellie’s Friday night?”
“Oh, we were just saying… Yes, of course, if her mother…”
“You’re very welcome, Bobby. Any time.”
“Thank you. Mrs Burlington.”
“Thank you, Bobby’s aunt,” said Mélisande, appearing at the door.
“Well, we’d better get going. Talk soon, Nicole.”
“Let’s get together soon, too.”
“Absolutely.”
“Goodbye,” said Mélisande. Then she went up to Bobby and gave him a hug. “Thank you for this evening,” she said. “I’m looking forward to Friday.”
Clarissa and Nicole simpered sentimentally at this affecting scene. But they may not have had the same reaction if they had heard what she whispered in his ear before she released him.
“And bring your boot boy outfit – all of it. Understand? Or else…”
Bobby turned white. “How…” he croaked.
But she was already following her mother out of the front door.
-
Chapter 78
He racked his brains to think how she could have found out. Did someone spill the beans? Then who? Who could possibly have told her that? It clearly didn’t come via her mother. Even if she had found out somehow, he was sure she wouldn’t have cooly gone and told her daughter.
After stewing on in for a couple of hours, he gave in and texted her.
“How did you know about that?”
“I know everything about you.”
That just made it worse. Everything? Now he was in a panic. He needed to find the answer at any cost. He sought out Nicole. She was in the kitchen talking on the phone.
“Auntie. I need to speak to you – urgently.”
“Lavvy… Sorry, I need to see to something. I’ll call you back.” She looked at him enquiringly. He looked in a bit of a state. “What’s the matter?”
“Did you…did you tell Mélisande about my boot boy stuff?”
“What?”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. She’s a little kid. I wouldn’t tell her anything about you.”
“Well, someone did. Cos she knows.”
“No-one I know would do that… There’s only us three… Clare and Wendy…oh, and Wendy’s friends, I suppose. But they have no connection with her… Miss Poole certainly wouldn’t. Who else is there? Those three ladies at the meeting…. Wait a minute. Didn’t that – what’s her name – Murchison – didn’t she say something about seeing Mélisande after the meeting finished?”
“Did she?”
“Yes. You couldn’t hear, but she said something about giving her a heavier whip…”
“What?”
“When did Mélisande find this out?”
“She only mentioned it tonight…”
“That must be it, then. What a stupid b… She must be one of those women who can’t keep their mouths shut – even with a kid! You wait…”
“She must be the one who gave her the photo, too!”
“Photo? What photo?”
“She has a photo of me in my pony gear with my hood off. It must have been taken at the meeting!”
“I’m going to kill that stupid cow.” She picked up the phone.
“Violet?” She suppressed her anger and spoke sweetly. “You don’t by any chance have Miss Murchison’s number, do you? I wanted to ask her something about, er… ah, yes, she mentioned a restaurant I should try, but I’ve forgotten the name… You do? Could you..? Yes, text it to me. Great. Thanks!”
“Auntie? Don’t ring her now, will you?”
“Why not?”
“You always tell me if I’m angry to sleep on it. Otherwise, you say, you’ll make a fool of yourself.”
Nicole took a deep breath. “You’re right, darling. You’re quite right. I’m fuming. I’ll say something stupid, and then I’ll be in the wrong. Okay. Thanks. Tomorrow, then.”
“Yes. Cool down and discuss it with Aunt Lavinia first.”
“Good thinking.” She relaxed a little, and grinned. “So what did that little minx say?”
“She told me to bring my uniform with me when I go round to hers on Friday.”
“She did? Well, you’ll have to do it, won’t you, or she’ll never let you rest. She wants to see you in it – or maybe she just wants a boot-shine!”
“But I can’t… She’s gonna laugh at me…”
“Oh, diddums. Let her laugh. You look great in it. You can wear the new one I got you.”
“New one?”
“Make a change from the pinks and reds. I’ll show you. Wait there.”
She went up to her room and returned with a Fantastex box. She took his uniform out piece by piece.
“So…the cap…yellow with a blue peak and “Boot Boy” in blue lettering…gloves…yellow with blue frilling…close-fitting yellow spandex T-shirt with “Boot Boy Bobby” in blue across the front – you can tuck that into your pants - yellow socks – short ones for the summer. New blue trainers with yellow laces. Now they’re cool – are they not?”
Bobby looked at them appreciatively. “I guess they are pretty cool – it’s the other stuff that I have to wear with them…”
“I also got you a cute little jacket.”
She produced a short, lightweight zip-up jacket with elasticated waistband and hood, both with drawstrings and acorn-shaped moulded rubber pulls, blue for the hood and yellow for the waist, all in fine translucent latex, the jacket yellow, the hood blue. Bobby sighed.
“Don’t you like it? It’s perfect for rainy days. I was going to get you a regular one, but Cynthia insisted, so all the colours match.”
“So I’m going to be perfectly colour-coordinated. And look like a total…”
Nicole ignored the remark. “And last but not least….”
She held up a pair of little latex hot pants - you couldn’t really call them shorts – in yellow and blue. The tight little leg frills were azure blue, the waistband fitted with belt loops and a (quite superfluous) blue rubber belt, while the pants themselves were in halved colours: yellow, blue, yellow, blue. The left-hand yellow front pane had a little yellow letter “B” inside a blue heart positioned just above the leg band on the outside of the thigh.
“Cute, don’t you think? The halving was Cynthia’s idea.”
Yes, that was exactly what they were…
Bobby’s forehead puckered up. “Auntie…”
“What? Don’t you like them? I discussed it with Cynthia. She had all sorts of ideas, some involving natural, semi-transparent latex with coloured hearts or balloons in strategic places. Would you have preferred that?”
“No! Don’t be silly!”
“Sorry. I’m not sure she was serious. But I thought these would be great for Pitt’s Wood. Pink always has girlie connotations. These are much more suitable for a boy.”
“I don’t even know if I’m going to work there, aunt.”
“Oh, you must! They’re relying on you. And you’re going to be well paid, I know that for a fact.”
“Am I…?” he felt his resolve weakening.
“Oh, and look. They threw in pretty little blue choker edged with tiny, tiny yellow frills. It even had your name printed in yellow letters.”
Bobby put his hand to his head in despair.
“So I’ll pack this all back up – there’s a sachet of lovely rose-scented talc in there too – and you can take it with you on Friday.”
“Auntie…”
“If I were you I would just go along with it. What’s done is done, and it seems to be she has you in the palm of her hand. If you try to thwart her, you might regret it. Don’t you think?”
Bobby gave in to a little tantrum. “It’s not fair!” he cried, doing a little impotent jump. “I can’t disobey her, now she has all this stuff on me!”
“And you’re her pony, too…” Nicole reminded him, with a faint smile. “And I understand she has a new whip… I think you’d better be nice to her, dear, and go along with what she wants…
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” said Boby, dismally.
“I’m afraid not. But you usually don’t mind being ordered about. Clare says…”
“Clare’s a grown-up! Mélisande’s a twelve-year-old!”
“Yes, that must be quite irksome…” replied Nicole, coolly. “So I’ll pack this in a bag, and pop it in your rucksack Friday morning, okay?”
-
Chapter 79.
As he made his way to school the next day, he determined to avoid her at all costs.
“I’ll stay in at break,” he said to himself, “and stay in the canteen as long as I can at lunch.”
But Mélisande seemed to have anticipated his strategy, because even before his classroom had emptied for first break, she was at the door, calling “Bobby! Bobby! Hurry up. We need to talk about Friday! I’ve got so much to show you!”
He wanted the ground to swallow him up.
“You two dating, mate?”
“Bobby? Hurry up mate - your little girlfriend’s waiting!”
The rather attractive girl who sat behind him in class, Imelda, who had agreed to go for a coffee after school that very day, was not at all impressed.
“Let’s forget that coffee, Bobby. I can see now I’m simply too old for you.”
“Imelda….”
But she left in a huff.
“Shit!”
He got up and went to the door. Several of his classmates hung back, smirking, eager to listen in on their conversation.
“Mellie, what do you want? Please don’t come to my classroom unannounced.”
“Ooh, she’s “Mellie” now…”
“Sweet little Mellie…”
“Shut up, you lot. Mind your own business! She was badly hurt!”
The majority retired, sniggering. Bobby was big enough that no-one was prepared to cross the line.
“Mellie…please…”
Mélisande assumed a hurt expression. “I just came to see you… I was excited about Friday…”
She made the sort of face kids made immediately prior to bursting into tears. She was destined to be a great actress one day. Bobby immediately felt concerned.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve had a difficult morning, that’s all.”
“Have they been teasing you?”
“A bit, yes.”
“I hate them! I hate them all!”
“Mellie… Shh. Let’s go outside where we can talk in private.”
They repaired to the basketball post. Mélisande seemed to have made a quick recovery. She was almost dancing with excitement.
“Have you got your uniform ready to bring?”
Bobby sighed. “Yes. My aunt’s bought me a new one…”
“A new one? Not the pink one?”
“Was it that woman told you about it?”
“What woman?”
“You know who I mean.”
“Well… I mean, I didn’t ask her. She just thought I already knew.”
“She a blabbermouth.”
“Maybe…”
“Okay. I’ll bring it over. But I haven’t agreed to wear it, understand?”
“Bobby! You have to.”
“I don’t have to…”
“Please…”
This was promising. Now she was actually asking, not ordering. He could see a chink of light ahead.
“We’ll see. Look, I have to go. Your friends are here.”
Charlotte and Amelia were approaching, waving at them. “Bobby!” they cried in unison.
“Your friends too,” remarked Mélisande, with a meaningful smile.
-
Chapter 80.
Friday arrived, and Bobby went off to school with a heavier bag than usual. Mélisande was waiting for him just inside the school gate. No-one remarked about it any more; it was by now a standing joke that the hunky guy in year eleven had fallen for a tiny girl in year seven, but of course the pair were still watched intently to see what transpired.
“Did you bring it?”
“Yes – I brought it,” replied Bobby irritably – and then, remembering his precarious position, he mollified her with a “yes, Mellie – everything. It’s all in here.” He tapped his rucksack. “And I brought my jeans and a T-shirt.”
“Good. I can’t wait till this evening.”
Mrs Burlington had offered to collect them from school, but Mélisande insisted they go home by bus, so that everyone could see them leave and travel together. Charlotte and Amelia were disappointed they couldn’t come too, especially Charlotte, whom Bobby had to comfort with a little hug, but Mélisande promised them they’d all get together at the weekend.
Mrs Burlington was in the kitchen cooking when they arrived, with a spatula in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other,
“Hello, guys. How was school?”
“Fine, thanks, mummy. Some of Bobby’s flowers are still fresh, though we had to throw some away. But the red roses are fine!”
Bobby smiled weakly.
“By the way, Bobby,” Mrs Burlington continued, confidentially, “Mellie tells me you’re going to put on your new uniform for us this evening.”
He was taken aback. He didn’t think she would have mentioned it to her mother. But not only had she done so, but she’d told her he was very proud of it, and only shyness made him reticent about showing it off.
“D-did she…?
“No need to be shy. If you’re aunt had it made for you, I’m sure it’s very smart. So… You’ll be wearing it for your new job, then. I bet you can’t wait to start. You’re going to very busy… But I know you like that. You should make oodles of cash…”
“I-it’s not confirmed…”
“Oh, Miss Poole wouldn’t let an opportunity like that pass by. I’m sure you’re in. Let’s have supper first, shall we, and then Mellie and I will sit in the lounge and we can have a little fashion show!”
“Ooh, yes, mummy! That would be so cool! He loves showing off, don’t you, Bobby?”
Mrs Burlington put his blushes down to sheer modesty.
“And I’ll wear my best boots, Bobby – so if you feel like practising, be my guest. I’ll pay you for your services, of course!”
“Oh, yes, mummy! Let him do your new boots! The long ones.”
“I’ll put them on after supper. Okay, Bobby?”
“I-I’m not sure…” he began, then, seeing a dangerous expression on Mélisande’s face, added, “sure, if you want…”
Up in Mélisande’s room, Bobby vented his anger.
“You told her! Why did you do that?”
He knew why – to make it more difficult for him to get out of it.
“Well, mummy would like to see it too. She invited you. It would be rude not to show her.”
“Well I’m not going to wear it, and that’s final!”
“All right. Suit yourself.”
He looked at her, but she was arranging one of her doll’s dresses. Maybe she wouldn’t insist, after all…”
-
Chapter 81.
After supper, during which Mélisande for the most part preserved a sulky silence, she left the table and went straight upstairs.
“What’s up with Mellie?” asked Clarissa. “She won’t tell me. Never mind, the fashion show should cheer her up.”
Bobby didn’t respond, but followed her up to her room. He felt slightly guilty, but sulking meant she had been defeated, so relief trumped any other feelings.
Her door was open.
“What’s up, Mellie?”
“You know what’s up. Anyway, leave me alone. I’m going to play with my dolls.” And she knelt down by a big dolls’ house in the corner.
“Okay. I’ll play games on my phone, then.” And he sat on the bed.
And for a while they ignored each other. Mélisande eventually broke the silence.
“Bobby? This door in my dolls’ house won’t open. It’s stuck, I think.”
“Here, I’ll do it.” He put his phone down and came over. Mélisande stood up so he could kneel down to attend to it. He pushed at it with his finger.
“This one? It’s fine. It’s not stuck… Mellie?”
He looked round, but she had disappeared. He rose to his feet. “Mellie? Where are you?”
Then he noticed his phone was gone.
“Mellie?”
He ran out of the room.
“I’m in here,” said a voice from the adjacent bathroom.
“Did you take my phone?”
“Yes. I’m just writing a text to Charlotte.”
“What? On my phone?”
“Yes. It’s from you. Shall I read it?”
“You…”
“Hi Charlotte. I’m writing this in Mellie’s bathroom. It was really nice to go out with you the other day. I’m sorry you weren’t allowed to come tonight. Would you like to meet up? Maybe Sunday? We could go skating or something. But please don’t tell Mellie in case she gets jealous.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“How many kisses shall I put? I was thinking three would be enough…”
“Don’t you dare mess with my phone! Open the door and come out at once!”
“I’ve put three. Now I’m going to send it. And then I’m going to wait for the reply.”
“Don’t, please! Mellie! Please…!”
“Go put your uniform on then, and wait for me downstairs. You have five minutes and then I’m sending this. Everything. Gloves, choker, everything. And carry your jacket. Mummy will want to see that too.”
“But…”
“Better hurry…”
Five minutes was up when he returned to the bathroom door in a panic.
“I’ve got it all on but I can’t fasten the choker in these gloves! Please give me a few more seconds!”
The door opened and she came out holding his phone. He was trembling and flushed. The sight of him in his taut little hot pants was almost too much, but by clenching her teeth as hard as she could she somehow contained the desire to collapse in a fit of giggles.
“All right. Remember, I only have to touch this and that text gets sent. So you have a short extension.”
After a lot of fumbling he got it fastened.
“Good straighten your socks and your cap. Do up that shoe! And tuck your shirt in neatly, please. Right. Now get your coat and go downstairs. Wait outside the lounge door. Remember I’ll have your phone with me the whole time. If you don’t do exactly what I or mummy tell you to, my finger might slip, and then…”
“I will, though! I promise!”
“Right, When I say “enter”, walk in with you jacket slung over your shoulder, smile, and do a slow twirl, so mummy can get a proper look. Okay?”
“Yes, Mélisande. I understand. Please be careful with my phone.”
She slipped in and closed the door behind her.
“Mummy? Bobby’s ready.”
“I’m just making myself a coffee. I’ll be right there. Ooh, this is so exciting. Would you like something too?”
“Please. Raspberry juice box.”
“Coming up!”
-
Chapter 82.
Clarissa had changed into a miniskirt, black stockings, and high-heeled thigh boots. She had worn them that day Mélisande had first sat on Bobby’s back. They looked expensive, and they were. They were made of the finest kid leather, so soft that it actually stretched a little as they were zipped up at the back. She took her seat on the sofa beside her daughter.
“We’re ready, Bobby!” cried Mélisande. “You may enter.”
No response. “We’re ready… Don’t be shy…”
He entered assuming as well as he could a casual expression – though Clarissa could see in his flushed cheeks and trembling lip that he was feeling far from relaxed – and immediately understood why. His uniform was nothing like she had expected. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened – but to her credit, before he could notice, she translated her appearance into one of delighted surprise. As he performed a slightly clumsy rotation, she leant forward and clapped her hands.
“Next on the catwalk, “Bobby Tucker! Go, Bobby!”
Mélisande stole a sidelong glance at her mother, noted her surprise, and smiled with satisfaction. Now she was in on his secret too.
“Walk up and down a few times more, Bobby. Go on. And come closer. My mum wants to see everything.”
But Clarissa could already see everything. Cynthia had made his pants from a new type of latex, fine and light but also strong, and resistant to snagging. It could be relied upon not to split or tear, even when stretched to the limit. She tried to appear unflustered, but couldn’t help staring at the vision of this great big boy in such a juvenile outfit. “Surely he’s not going to wear that for work,” she said to herself. “He’ll cause a sensation…”
But she was getting the picture. She could see he was possessed by a deep-seated deference towards women, almost an adoration, that gave them tremendous power over him – a power that his aunt and her friends had been unable to ignore. They had succ-umbed to the temptation to exploit that power, and once they had taken that path one thing led to another, and…and here he was. A boot boy, a little rubber-clad pony that even her daughter could control with ease…and goodness knows what else. She sighed. How could she criticise them? She too found him fascinating - cuteness personified. She casually picked up her phone and took a few snaps. Well, why shouldn’t she? If he liked showing off so much, then she should entertain his vanity. She found herself looking forward to having him at her feet attending to her boots.
“Now put on your jacket. See, mummy, his jacket’s made of latex too. It suits him, doesn’t it?”
“It looks perfect on him…”
The little jacket came down just to his hips. Bobby was fumbling with the drawstring.
“Come here - I’ll do it for you,” said Clarissa.
He came over and stood in front of her. She took a deep breath, and, doing her best to ignore the flattened bulge lying in the yellow compartment of his pants, she tied the drawstring in a bow, the acorn pulls hanging down in front. She sent him back onto the catwalk and exhaled with relief. He started parading up and down again, but to his distress he found that, at each step, the rubber pulls, which were hanging level with his crotch, bounced against the front of his pants. It was as if they were insistently tapping at his flaccid coc-k, gently encouraging it to wake up. He actually imagined for a moment that Cynthia must have cut the drawstring to a calculated length, to produce just such an effect!
Feeling an increasing tightness in his pants, he stopped. “I-I should probably attend to your mum’s boots…”
“In a minute. Mummy wants a video, and so do I. Keep walking, please.”
It was his worst public humiliation nightmare playing itself out. He could feel his coc-k slowly swelling and lengthening under the regular kiss of the rubber pulls. Though his jacket prevented him from seeing it, his unruly member was inching sideways under the taut yellow latex, across the top of his left thigh, as if seeking the little “B” logo in its blue heart. He was beginning to panic. “No… Please… Not in front of Mrs Burlington! Whatever will she think of me?”
Fortunately Mélisande hadn’t noticed his discomfort, being more interested in her mother’s reaction to Bobby’s embarrassment. But Clarissa could see exactly what was going on, and knew that, with her innocent daughter sitting next to her, she needed to take immediate action. Just as Bobby was contemplating a rush to the door, on the excuse he needed the toilet, she intervened – though strangely she kept filming.
“Bobby, I think that’s enough. Yes, please come and show me your expertise now. Mellie darling? Could you fetch my cleaning kit from the laundry room, please?”
“Yes mummy!” And she dashed out.
Bobby, with a sigh of relief, turned towards Clarissa and was about to sink to his knees when she stopped him. She was still holding her phone in her lap, pointed at him. But of course she wouldn’t still have been filming…
“Just a minute, Bobby. Better take off your jacket first.”
In his delight at his reprieve he quite forgot about his tumescent state. “Oh, yes, of course.”
He stood before her, fumbling with the drawstrings again, got them tangled, finally separated them, and pulled down the zip, which then got stuck at the bottom. Wearing latex gloves wasn’t the ideal aid to fine motor skills!
“Do you need some help?” said Clarissa, in an offhand tone, staring roughly in the direction of the zip-pull and making to move to offer any.
“No, thank you, Mrs Burlington. I have to learn to do this myself.”
“Yes…you should…” she murmured, distractedly, registering that the head of his pen-is had now actually attained its goal and reached the blue heart. She took a deep breath, and checked her phone to make sure it was still recording.
“Got it, mummy!”
With a sudden burst of energy, Clarissa rose, put her hands on Bobby’s shoulders, and brought him to his knees.
“There, Bobby. Time to do my boots. Here, I’ll do that for you.” She undid the zip. “Mellie darling? Just put that down here. Could you stand behind Bobby and help him off with his jacket, there’s a dear? That’s it. Thank you… Oh, and get me a drink of water, would you? There’s a good girl…”
She unzipped the little fabric case Mélisande had brought her, pulled out a large red duster, and spread it over Bobby’s knees, effectively hiding his erection. She tucked it into the top of his pants to keep it in place.
“There. Now all you’ll need is this soft brush, this leather dressing, and a soft cloth for polishing. Mellie tells me you were trained by your aunt… Oh, thank you, dear. Sit down. Bobby’s about to demonstrate his boot-cleaning skills.”
She took a sip of water, put the glass on the side table, and smiled encouragingly.
“Yes, Mrs Burlington. She has lots and lots of boots…”
“Really?”
“She has some beautiful ones, and I keep them all nice and shiny for her. Leather ones, and lovely soft rubber ones, and…”
“You sound quite enthusiastic…”
“Oh, well…you know…” He flushed. He had rather given himself away.
Clarissa looked at him with interest. He certainly did love boots, no doubt about that. So if he wanted to indulge his passion, then it was only right he should be appropriately dressed. And what could be more appropriate than a lovely little rubber outfit like this? An unattached boy of that age needed to find an outlet for his pent-up energies somehow, and this pursuit seemed to offer it, while also providing a little harmless amusement for his friends…
-
Chapter 83.
“So how would you like to do this?”
He was kneeling with his knees slightly apart.
“Well…”
“I guess I should put my foot here, right?”
She placed her heel of her right boot between his open thighs, pinning the red duster to the floor, turned her foot slightly to the right, and lowered the sole of her boot gently down onto the place where she knew his coc-k was lying! He gasped, and looked up at her, wide-eyed.
“Is that good?”
“Y-yes, Mrs Burlington… Th-that’s…fine…”
Hands trembling, he opened the tin of wax, collected a little on one end of the brush, and began to apply it to the leather, working from the toe upwards in little circular movements. She could feel his coc-k under the sole of her boot, firm and resilient like a well-filled sausage. She applied the slightest pressure. It responded by stiffening slightly. Bobby gulped and dropped the brush.
“Sorry, miss…”
“No problem…” She smiled. She loved that “miss”.
She left him alone for a while, allowing him to work on her foot and ankle. Then she began again, applying gentle, regular pressure, but so discreetly that Mélisande had no inkling of what was going on, until she was massaging it with the leather sole of her boot in a slow, steady rhythm. She was shocked at herself – she couldn’t ever have imagined doing such a thing - but Bobby clearly needed relief, and besides, it was amusing watching him trying to work under such distracting conditions. She giggled. He seemed slowly to be losing concentration.
“Hey!” cried Mélisande. “Look – you missed that bit! And don’t forget the back!”
“I think Bobby’s got enough on his plate doing the front of my boots, dear. When he done that, I’ll stand up and he can wax the backs ready for polishing.”
“Okay, mummy.”
“Why don’t you take a video from the side? Rest your phone on one of the dining-chairs!”
“Okay!”
That ploy removed her from the immediate vicinity, and allowed Clarissa to pursue her goal with more vigour. He still hadn’t reached her knee, but he was already in a state. Now, every time she applied pressure, there was the faintest squelch, and she could feel his coc-k sliding about in his pants. His cheeks were flushed, his mouth open, his eyes kept closing, and he was breathing erratically. She thought she could imagine what he must be feeling. Realising he was very close to a climax, she leant forward and whispered in his ear.
“Let go, darling. Just don’t let Mélisande cotton on, okay?”
He looked at her desperately, and nodded. She smiled, patted his cheek, and rocked her foot back and forth a couple of times, rolling his coc-k against his thigh. He made a choking sound, and despite trying not to, cried out.
“AAhhh!”
“What’s up with him?” asked Mélisande, startled, beginning to rise from behind the chair where she was kneeling.
“Stay there, Mellie! Keep filming please. He’s got cramp, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
“He may have to go for a walk around shortly.”
But not quite yet, she thought. She stopped massaging and applied firm, steady pressure. He bit his lip, shut his eyes tight, and then she could feel his coc-k pumping powerfully under her foot. His c-um burst out of the leg band of his pants, soaking the red cloth. Quickly - perhaps even before his orgasm had completely subsided - she had gathered it up, mopped his thigh, and thrust it into his hand.
“Bobby,” she hissed. “Are you okay? Yes? Go clean yourself up - quick - before she notices.”
He staggered to his feet and headed for the door.
“Where’s he going, mummy?”
“He needs to move about. Cramp can be very painful. And he needs the toilet.”
“Oh. Right. Well I didn’t think he was doing a great job, anyway. He kept missing bits.”
“Maybe he’s having an off-day. Anyway, I’m not letting him off. I’ll make him finish the job as soon as he comes back. Now, shall we have a break and a snack? Oh, and send me that video, please. And delete it from your phone. No complaints. It’s private and I need to report his performance to his aunt.”
As she ate her crispbread, celery and taramasalata – a thirties, unattached woman has to watch her figure – Clarissa reviewed the events of the afternoon. She was shocked at herself, and a little guilty of having perpetrated such an act in the presence of her daughter. But she’d been excited – in fact she was still feeling excited and a little frustrated. Never mind. She had the means to relieve that in the drawer of her bedside cabinet, while she reviewed the videos. She needed to speak frankly to Nicole, that was for sure, not least to confess and seek absolution – though she didn’t expect it to be withheld, by a woman who was prepared to present her nephew in such a provocative outfit, not to mention transforming him into a rubber pony at weekends!
Bobby returned after fifteen minutes, looking a lot more relaxed, clean and smelling of peach-scented talc.
“You have to finish mummy’s boots!” cried Mélisande, frowning. “You haven’t done a very good job up to now…”
“I’m sorry, Mellie. I had such terrible, er, cramp… But I’m better now.” He turned to her mother, blushing, and unable to look her in the eye..
“Mrs Burlington, may I please continue waxing your boots? I’m sorry I had to stop…”
“Of course, Bobby! Let’s repair to the lounge. Mélisande was not satisfied with your technique, for some reason, so she’ll want to video you again, no doubt, to make sure I can give a good report to your aunt.”
“Yes, I will,” said Mélisande, severely. “Try and concentrate this time, boot boy!”
“Yes, Mélisande…”
This time there were no distractions. Bobby waxed the fronts, then Clarissa stood for him to wax the backs. (He had to be very careful when he reached the thigh flaps, where the seams of her black stockings disappeared up into her miniskirt, but he bit his lip and thought of England and just about made it.) Then he polished them from the tops to the toes till they gleamed, and cleaned the slim heels with wipes. Mélisande was so happy she took several photos of her glamorous mother, plus a full-length one of Bobby in an unguarded moment, smiling and relaxed, a polishing cloth in one hand, the other unconsciously checking what she referred to as his ‘boy-thing’ for any signs of tumescence. She surreptitiously emailed it to herself, as possible future blackmail material, certain that her mother would delete it. (Which she did, but only after also sending it to herself.)
-
Chapter 84.
Mélisande had got all she wanted – for the time being at least – and in response to Bobby’s pleas, graciously consented to his changing into his jeans and T-shirt, and accompanied him upstairs heaping praises on him, tongue in cheek, for his service to her mother. Clarissa strolled outside into the sunlight to admire her newly-polished boots. He really had done an awfully good job, once he was allowed to work without distraction. And not only was he a talented boot boy, but he clearly loved his work.
“It’s an unusual occupation for a teenage boy,” she mused, “but I guess it’s what he does.” She lit a cigarette. “Better call Nicole, I suppose.”
She was about to dial Nicole’s number when Mélisande joined her in the garden.
“Mummy?”
“Yes, dear?”
“So… What did you think?”
“About…?”
“You know. Everything.”
Clarissa laughed. “Okay. He’s sweet, his little outfit’s super cute, and he’s a great boot boy. What else can I say?”
“Do you like him?…”
“Yes… Yes, I do. He comes over as a really nice guy. And he’s respectful to you, which is the most important thing as far as I’m concerned. Having seen his new outfit I was surprised he agreed to show it off to me like that, just because you asked him to.”
Mélisande assumed her most innocent expression. “Well, mummy, after the accident an’ all, we’re good friends now. I think he’d do anything for me, actually.”
“That’s so nice, darling…”
“So…”
“Yes?”
“This training… Well, Saturday afternoon by itself plus and evening or two… It’s not enough.”
“So…what are you saying?”
“I need him for the whole weekend. At least. If I’m going to have him properly ready.”
“Oh. Well, I was about to ring Nicole. I can ask her if she can spare him for longer at the weekend. And then I’d have to clear it with Miss Poole…”
“No, I don’t mean like that. I mean he stays with us for the whole weekend. I can ride him both days as long as I like, and he can help out in the house, and all your boots will be super smart, and…”
“Well, this weekend…”
“No, mummy. Every weekend.
“Oh... I see…”
“He’d help out round the house, and he’d bring me home on Fridays and take me to school Monday mornings. Then you could go and see your friends at the weekend and he would be there to babysit. You wouldn’t have to pay a babysitter any more. And you said yourself you like him…”
“Goodness, I didn’t realise you were that close… What about your friends? You normally see a lot of them at the weekend…”
“Bobby likes them too. We had such fun when we all went out together the other day. They can come here and play, or we could all go out together sometimes… Please, mummy…”
“Well, I don’t have any objection in principle… Look, let me ring Nicole. Go and talk to Bobby about it and see if he agrees. Okay?”
“Thanks, mummy!”
“Nothing’s agreed yet, Mellie…”
But she was gone.
“Well, well… Nicole? Hi. Yes, he’s fine. But I need to run a couple of things past you.” She took a breath. “First… I don’t know how to say this… That little outfit… Yes, and sexy. Which is what he got wearing it. And I – unforgivably – I…. I took advantage. Do you know what I’m saying? He was down there, working on my boots… I had my foot on it… It! You know what I mean! I didn’t really mean to, but… He started getting all hot and bothered… I could feel it pressing against my foot… All I did was to press back a little. I mean, what would you have done? If I’d stopped it wouldn’t have been fair to him… Look, I know it was wrong of me… Wait... Are you laughing at me? You bitch! I’ve been eaten up with guilt… Oh, really? No-one can resist? I believe you. Please stop laughing. I have to ask you something else… Are you listening? Right. Yes, good. Listen. Mélisande has asked me… She wants him to stay with us every weekend, so she will have two full days every week to train him. Now I know you won’t agree, but… You would? Me? I have no problem at all. He’s a sweet guy, Mélisande seems to love him, and he seems highly responsible. She wants him to be her babysitter as well as her mount… Yes, hilarious! Really? So… Ah yes, his exams… Three weeks… Fine by me. I’ll have to ask him, of course… You’re sure he’ll agree? Okay… If he helps in the house of course I’ll pay him, and… What? A maid? Are you serious…?” There was even more too Bobby than she’d already seen, apparently. “Clare? Who’s… Oh, I see… What do you mean, she’ll see the joke? But she’ll release him…? Yes, I’ll be responsible for him…of course I will. But the maid’s costume…? Oh, Nicole, that would be so great! My mother used to have a maid, and I’ve always wanted… No, of course she wasn’t a boy-maid! Truthfully, that appeals to me even more. Especially a Bobby maid! What? Bobby with an “i”. Oh, yes, that makes sense… Mélisande? Oh, I don’t suppose she’ll mind. He’ll be my maid, anyway. My maid and my boot boy. She has Bobby the pony. Okay. Gotta go. They’re here. Speak soon…”
She turned and smiled. She stared at Bobby with even more wonderment than before.
“Did you ask, mummy?”
“Yes… Bobby? Mélisande was wondering…”
“He knows. I told him.”
“Ah…right. So how do you feel about it…?”
“Thank you, Mrs Burlington.” He had a slightly queasy smile on his face, and Clarissa noticed Mélisande was holding him quite firmly by the wrist. “O-Of course I’d love to stay with you at weekends, if it’s not too much trouble…”
“Trouble? We’d love to have you. Your aunt is happy for you do your training here. We have a large field, as you can see…”
“And even two loose-boxes!” put in Mélisande.
“Yes… She says you can start in three weeks, once your exams are finished. Would that be all right?”
“Yes, miss,” he said, quietly.
“Yippee! Thanks, mummy!” cried Mélisande. “Bobby, we’re going to have such fun! And I’m going to make you into the bestest dressage pony ever!”
And they both smiled simpering smiles at him. The butterflies in his tummy turned into a whirlwind of flapping wings. It wasn’t the exams – they were the last things on his mind. No. Sunday week, Diana Murchison’s sixtieth. He really didn’t trust that woman. And in three weeks, permanent weekend servitude, and goodness knows what humiliations at the hands of his two new mistresses…