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Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Today at 04:20:57 AM »
Chapter 147.
It had been an interesting day for the women, and a fun one for the girls. Charlotte and Amelia were sad when it was time to go home.
“I s’pose we won’t see much of you now before we’re back at school,” said Charlotte. “Mummy says you’re going to be very busy training for October. What exactly are you doing at the Open Day?”
“Oh, you’ll have to wait and see,” smiled Mélisande. “But there’s nearly two weeks before school. Let’s do something together, anyway. We can talk later.”
“Maybe with Bobby? He’s staying with you now, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Definitely with Bobby.”
“And then it’s your birthday in about a month. That should be fun. Your house is the best for parties!”
“Yeah, it’s great!” added Amelia. “Er… Will Bobby be at your party?”
“Of course!”
“Good… Will he be wearing…?”
“No – he won’t!” called Bobby from across the room.
“Stop eavesdropping!” cried Charlotte.
“Yeah,” said Amelia. “Mind your own beeswax!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mélisande. “I hadn’t thought of that. What a good idea! Bobby? Would you like to be my party boot boy?”
“No, Mellie. Definitely not. No way!”
“But if I order you…”
“Mellie…that’s not fair. Today was bad enough… And the girls have promised to keep it a secret…haven’t you, girls?”
Ignoring the question, and with wide eyes, Charlotte said, “what do you mean, order him? Does he have to do what you tell him?”
Mélisande just smiled, so she addressed Bobby direct.
“Bobby? Do you have to do what Mellie tells you?”
“N-no, of course not…” Mélisande put her hands on her hips and gave him a severe look. “I-I mean, you know…er…it’s not like that… I mean, I don’t like to, you know, disappoint her…”
Mélisande bristled. “Come here at once, Mr Robert Tucker! Here! Now!”
Sheepishly Bobby made his way over to the group. Charlotte and Amelia goggled.
“Stand here. Now, tell my friends who’s the boss here. Go on. Now!”
“Er… You are, of course, Mellie…” He laughed, trying to suggest he was joking. But Mélisande was having none of it.
“Kneel!”
“What?”
“You heard me. Kneel! Or…” She whispered something in his ear – something about a pony…
He dropped to his knees, totally cowed.
“Please, Mellie…”
“Well?”
“You’re the boss… I apologise.”
“And I give the orders?”
“Y-yes…”
“And you obey?”
“I…”
“You obey?”
His head drooped. “Yes…”
“Say it. Say it!”
“I… I obey…”
“What’s going on over there?”
Bethany had noticed the strange scene.
“Bobby?” said Clarissa. “Whatever are you doing? Get up and come and say goodbye to Bethany and Natasha.”
He needed no second bidding. Five minutes later the guests had departed. Clarissa was in the kitchen sorted out the washing-up.
“Why did you do that?” he hissed at Mélisande.
“Dunno, really. I just felt like it. I just wanted to exercise my authority for once. We have a contract, remember. You do, right?”
“But in front of the girls…”
“I know. But it’s done now. They’re already texting me. I’ll tell them it was all an act. We were just messing around.”
“They won’t swallow that…”
Mélisande laughed. “No,” she said, “they probably won’t.”
“Right... But your party... then you were just messing around...yeah?”
“Oh, that... Yeah...maybe...”
It had been an interesting day for the women, and a fun one for the girls. Charlotte and Amelia were sad when it was time to go home.
“I s’pose we won’t see much of you now before we’re back at school,” said Charlotte. “Mummy says you’re going to be very busy training for October. What exactly are you doing at the Open Day?”
“Oh, you’ll have to wait and see,” smiled Mélisande. “But there’s nearly two weeks before school. Let’s do something together, anyway. We can talk later.”
“Maybe with Bobby? He’s staying with you now, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Definitely with Bobby.”
“And then it’s your birthday in about a month. That should be fun. Your house is the best for parties!”
“Yeah, it’s great!” added Amelia. “Er… Will Bobby be at your party?”
“Of course!”
“Good… Will he be wearing…?”
“No – he won’t!” called Bobby from across the room.
“Stop eavesdropping!” cried Charlotte.
“Yeah,” said Amelia. “Mind your own beeswax!”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mélisande. “I hadn’t thought of that. What a good idea! Bobby? Would you like to be my party boot boy?”
“No, Mellie. Definitely not. No way!”
“But if I order you…”
“Mellie…that’s not fair. Today was bad enough… And the girls have promised to keep it a secret…haven’t you, girls?”
Ignoring the question, and with wide eyes, Charlotte said, “what do you mean, order him? Does he have to do what you tell him?”
Mélisande just smiled, so she addressed Bobby direct.
“Bobby? Do you have to do what Mellie tells you?”
“N-no, of course not…” Mélisande put her hands on her hips and gave him a severe look. “I-I mean, you know…er…it’s not like that… I mean, I don’t like to, you know, disappoint her…”
Mélisande bristled. “Come here at once, Mr Robert Tucker! Here! Now!”
Sheepishly Bobby made his way over to the group. Charlotte and Amelia goggled.
“Stand here. Now, tell my friends who’s the boss here. Go on. Now!”
“Er… You are, of course, Mellie…” He laughed, trying to suggest he was joking. But Mélisande was having none of it.
“Kneel!”
“What?”
“You heard me. Kneel! Or…” She whispered something in his ear – something about a pony…
He dropped to his knees, totally cowed.
“Please, Mellie…”
“Well?”
“You’re the boss… I apologise.”
“And I give the orders?”
“Y-yes…”
“And you obey?”
“I…”
“You obey?”
His head drooped. “Yes…”
“Say it. Say it!”
“I… I obey…”
“What’s going on over there?”
Bethany had noticed the strange scene.
“Bobby?” said Clarissa. “Whatever are you doing? Get up and come and say goodbye to Bethany and Natasha.”
He needed no second bidding. Five minutes later the guests had departed. Clarissa was in the kitchen sorted out the washing-up.
“Why did you do that?” he hissed at Mélisande.
“Dunno, really. I just felt like it. I just wanted to exercise my authority for once. We have a contract, remember. You do, right?”
“But in front of the girls…”
“I know. But it’s done now. They’re already texting me. I’ll tell them it was all an act. We were just messing around.”
“They won’t swallow that…”
Mélisande laughed. “No,” she said, “they probably won’t.”
“Right... But your party... then you were just messing around...yeah?”
“Oh, that... Yeah...maybe...”
2
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Today at 04:14:48 AM »
Chapter 146.
“Bobby?”
Now what? Couldn’t they leave him alone for a few minutes, after all that?
“Bobby!”
“Shit!” He raised his voice, “Coming, aunt.”
He climbed out of his chair and presented himself at the kitchen door.
“Yeah?”
“Have you forgotten? You’ve got boots to clean.”
“I’ll get his cleaning kit,” cried Mélisande, running out of the room.
“I’m tired, aunt. I’ve just carried three girls on my back all round the garden. Can’t I do it later?”
“It’s not arduous, Bobby – all you have to do is kneel down and polish. It doesn’t require much exertion. Besides, when your working at the Centre you’ll be doing it full-time. So you should get used to it.”
“Got it mummy! Bobby, here you are.” Mélisande presented him with his little case. He was about to make a scene, but the look she gave him made him hesitate. “Remember what I said earlier?” she said, in an undertone. “Pleasant…helpful…?”
Whether he changed his tune because he needed her as an ally – or because he had simply become accustomed to obeying her – he didn’t even know himself. But all at once he became cheerful and willing.
“Thanks, Mellie. Shall I do your boots first, miss?” he asked, looking at Natasha. Clarissa simpered. That was the sort of behaviour she wanted to see.
Natasha looked at her friend. “Go ahead,” said Bethany. “Mine’ll take him a bit longer anyway, I guess.”
The ladies were sitting side by side on the sofa. Natasha, her black hair cut short and the lashes over her dark eyes long with mascara, wore black leather-look leggings and a white shirt, and Bethany, pale-eyed and auburn-haired, a maroon jumper, a grey knee-length skirt, and grey stockings or tights. He knelt in front of Natasha and opened his case. Folded on top of his equipment was a heavy black latex sheet about a metre square. He took it out and unfolded it, then went into full Boot Boy mode.
“Would you mind raising for feet a moment, madam? Thank you.”
Natasha’s black boots were more calf-length than ankle length, with high block heels and a row of three steel buckles down the sides. Bobby changed his uniform gloves for a pair of black latex ones from his case, then lifted Natasha’s boots one at a time and examined them carefully. Then, using a small wire brush, he carefully cleaned the seams between the uppers and the soles, and brushed the soles with another brush like a nail brush. He unbuckled the buckles so that he could deal with the leather under the overlap, and got to work. Even Clarissa hadn’t realised how meticulous and painstaking was his dedication to his work. First, he treated every millimetre of the leather with an alcohol-smelling liquid, which he poured into a little steel tray and applied with a soft brush not much larger than a paintbrush, wiping it off with a cloth after each application. Then he applied a soft natural-coloured wax with another cloth, using a toothbrush on the seams and straps, and after waiting a minute or two, polished it with yet another cloth, leaving the leather rich and glowing. He was so focussed on his work that he seemed oblivious to his surroundings – though the onlookers hardly dared speak during the whole operation. When at last he had refastened the buckles, he knelt back on his haunches, and there was a little murmur of appreciation. Natasha was impressed and delighted.
“Bobby… Thank you so much! My boots look like new! I shall definitely be visiting you at Pitt’s Wood! Meanwhile…” She took her purse out of her bag, puled out a twenty pound note, and slipped it in the waistband of his pants.
“Oh... You don’t have to…”
“Nonsense. You deserve it…and for all the entertainment…”
Bobby retrieved the note and slipped it into his little belt-purse, then immediately moved sideways and prepared to service Bethany. Her boots, knee-length tan leather with stiletto heels and a back zip, presented a different sort of challenge, but he dealt with them with just the same attention to detail as he had given Natasha’s. Working on them one at a time meant Bethany had to keep her legs wide apart to give him room, something that might have tempted a normal teenage boy to steal a peep up her skirt, if for no other reason that to discover whether she was wearing tights or stockings. But the ladies all noticed, and talked about it afterwards, that his eyes never strayed from her boots for a second. At the end he took his payment graciously and packed away his kit.
“See what I mean?” said Clarissa. “He’s very serious about what he does, and he can be trusted with any woman, however attractive.” (Bethany inwardly preened herself at this remark.) “He’s such an innocent, really – no hidden sexual agenda, just a desire to serve and satisfy.”
“He can serve and satisfy me any time,” remarked Natasha, with a suggestive raise of one eyebrow. “I did notice, while he was working on my boots, a certain, er, swelling, shall we say, in his little pants…”
“You may have done, miss,” retorted Clarissa, “but I can tell you it was purely down to those sexy boots you were wearing, and nothing whatsoever to do with your other charms…”
“Well, even if that’s true, it added spice to the experience – which was already pretty spicy, don’t you think?”
“Bobby?”
Now what? Couldn’t they leave him alone for a few minutes, after all that?
“Bobby!”
“Shit!” He raised his voice, “Coming, aunt.”
He climbed out of his chair and presented himself at the kitchen door.
“Yeah?”
“Have you forgotten? You’ve got boots to clean.”
“I’ll get his cleaning kit,” cried Mélisande, running out of the room.
“I’m tired, aunt. I’ve just carried three girls on my back all round the garden. Can’t I do it later?”
“It’s not arduous, Bobby – all you have to do is kneel down and polish. It doesn’t require much exertion. Besides, when your working at the Centre you’ll be doing it full-time. So you should get used to it.”
“Got it mummy! Bobby, here you are.” Mélisande presented him with his little case. He was about to make a scene, but the look she gave him made him hesitate. “Remember what I said earlier?” she said, in an undertone. “Pleasant…helpful…?”
Whether he changed his tune because he needed her as an ally – or because he had simply become accustomed to obeying her – he didn’t even know himself. But all at once he became cheerful and willing.
“Thanks, Mellie. Shall I do your boots first, miss?” he asked, looking at Natasha. Clarissa simpered. That was the sort of behaviour she wanted to see.
Natasha looked at her friend. “Go ahead,” said Bethany. “Mine’ll take him a bit longer anyway, I guess.”
The ladies were sitting side by side on the sofa. Natasha, her black hair cut short and the lashes over her dark eyes long with mascara, wore black leather-look leggings and a white shirt, and Bethany, pale-eyed and auburn-haired, a maroon jumper, a grey knee-length skirt, and grey stockings or tights. He knelt in front of Natasha and opened his case. Folded on top of his equipment was a heavy black latex sheet about a metre square. He took it out and unfolded it, then went into full Boot Boy mode.
“Would you mind raising for feet a moment, madam? Thank you.”
Natasha’s black boots were more calf-length than ankle length, with high block heels and a row of three steel buckles down the sides. Bobby changed his uniform gloves for a pair of black latex ones from his case, then lifted Natasha’s boots one at a time and examined them carefully. Then, using a small wire brush, he carefully cleaned the seams between the uppers and the soles, and brushed the soles with another brush like a nail brush. He unbuckled the buckles so that he could deal with the leather under the overlap, and got to work. Even Clarissa hadn’t realised how meticulous and painstaking was his dedication to his work. First, he treated every millimetre of the leather with an alcohol-smelling liquid, which he poured into a little steel tray and applied with a soft brush not much larger than a paintbrush, wiping it off with a cloth after each application. Then he applied a soft natural-coloured wax with another cloth, using a toothbrush on the seams and straps, and after waiting a minute or two, polished it with yet another cloth, leaving the leather rich and glowing. He was so focussed on his work that he seemed oblivious to his surroundings – though the onlookers hardly dared speak during the whole operation. When at last he had refastened the buckles, he knelt back on his haunches, and there was a little murmur of appreciation. Natasha was impressed and delighted.
“Bobby… Thank you so much! My boots look like new! I shall definitely be visiting you at Pitt’s Wood! Meanwhile…” She took her purse out of her bag, puled out a twenty pound note, and slipped it in the waistband of his pants.
“Oh... You don’t have to…”
“Nonsense. You deserve it…and for all the entertainment…”
Bobby retrieved the note and slipped it into his little belt-purse, then immediately moved sideways and prepared to service Bethany. Her boots, knee-length tan leather with stiletto heels and a back zip, presented a different sort of challenge, but he dealt with them with just the same attention to detail as he had given Natasha’s. Working on them one at a time meant Bethany had to keep her legs wide apart to give him room, something that might have tempted a normal teenage boy to steal a peep up her skirt, if for no other reason that to discover whether she was wearing tights or stockings. But the ladies all noticed, and talked about it afterwards, that his eyes never strayed from her boots for a second. At the end he took his payment graciously and packed away his kit.
“See what I mean?” said Clarissa. “He’s very serious about what he does, and he can be trusted with any woman, however attractive.” (Bethany inwardly preened herself at this remark.) “He’s such an innocent, really – no hidden sexual agenda, just a desire to serve and satisfy.”
“He can serve and satisfy me any time,” remarked Natasha, with a suggestive raise of one eyebrow. “I did notice, while he was working on my boots, a certain, er, swelling, shall we say, in his little pants…”
“You may have done, miss,” retorted Clarissa, “but I can tell you it was purely down to those sexy boots you were wearing, and nothing whatsoever to do with your other charms…”
“Well, even if that’s true, it added spice to the experience – which was already pretty spicy, don’t you think?”
3
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 05:32:12 AM »
Chapter 145.
At least Amelia had to ride more slowly the second time, to allow her mother to get a good video. But she still used the whip on him.
“Slower, Bobby!” Thwack! “No, not as slow as that!” Thwack!” “Let mummy catch up…” Thwack! “A bit faster…come on!” Thwack, thwack!
When the ordeal was finally over, then of course everyone wanted photos of her mounted on Bobby.
“Bobby! Don’t hide your face like that,” chided Clarissa. “Look at the camera and smile please. Amelia looks so happy – don’t spoil the picture with a sour face. Thank you. That’s better.”
Amelia jumped off – at last – to look at the pictures. She hesitated what to do with the whip.
“Give it to Bobby to hold,” called Mélisande. “In his mouth, like a doggy. Ha ha, that’s right!”
“Mummy? Can I have this picture in my room, like Mélisande?”
Bobby dropped the whip. “No! Don’t let her!”
His obvious panic elicited a roar of laughter from the onlookers.
“Oh, Bobby,” said Natasha, with mock disappointment, “please let her. She so wants to have a memory of the day she rode her little Bobby pony. Look…” She bent down and showed him it on her phone. “It’s such a lovely picture. I’ll make sure to have it properly framed. It will make all her friends so jealous…”
“Of course he will,” said Clarissa curtly, in a mildly threatening tone. “He’s just joking… Aren’t you Bobby? Yes, of course you can put it on your wall, Amelia.”
“Yippee!”
And then, of course, Charlotte had to have two circuits as well. At least she was gentle with the whip. She liked Bobby a lot, and harboured fantasies that in a few years she could make him her boyfriend. So she didn’t want to hurt him; feeling close to him in this way was enough for her. Though of course, she had to have a picture as well...
In all the humiliation Bobby had quite forgot that Mélisande too had won the right to have a ride. But he was soon reminded. After Charlotte dismounted she took her whip from her, jumped on his back, and set off riding the lawn in a figure of eight, hanging onto his hair and using the whip to turn him either way. She even took him out of the end gate momentarily, but it was only to give him a few private words of advice.
“Be a good boy, Bobby, won’t you? You need to keep my friends entertained, so no more glaring and complaining – got it?” She gave him one good smack between the buttocks which made his eyes water.
“Yes! Yes, I understand…”
“So be pleasant and friendly and helpful…”
“But those pictures…”
“So what? They’re going to tell their friends anyway. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I hope not…”
“You silly boy…”
It was as if he was a little boy and she was a grown-up! How had this happened? But with a kick in the ribs he was already being driven back into the garden.
They arrived back at the patio to appreciative applause. At last he was unsaddled and allowed to remove his gloves and knee pads. He needed a drink. Lemonade and ice. A moment’s peace, sitting in the kitchen. He could hear the girls playing, the women chattering and laughing. He mopped his brow, and prayed there were no more unpleasant surprises to come that day.
At least Amelia had to ride more slowly the second time, to allow her mother to get a good video. But she still used the whip on him.
“Slower, Bobby!” Thwack! “No, not as slow as that!” Thwack!” “Let mummy catch up…” Thwack! “A bit faster…come on!” Thwack, thwack!
When the ordeal was finally over, then of course everyone wanted photos of her mounted on Bobby.
“Bobby! Don’t hide your face like that,” chided Clarissa. “Look at the camera and smile please. Amelia looks so happy – don’t spoil the picture with a sour face. Thank you. That’s better.”
Amelia jumped off – at last – to look at the pictures. She hesitated what to do with the whip.
“Give it to Bobby to hold,” called Mélisande. “In his mouth, like a doggy. Ha ha, that’s right!”
“Mummy? Can I have this picture in my room, like Mélisande?”
Bobby dropped the whip. “No! Don’t let her!”
His obvious panic elicited a roar of laughter from the onlookers.
“Oh, Bobby,” said Natasha, with mock disappointment, “please let her. She so wants to have a memory of the day she rode her little Bobby pony. Look…” She bent down and showed him it on her phone. “It’s such a lovely picture. I’ll make sure to have it properly framed. It will make all her friends so jealous…”
“Of course he will,” said Clarissa curtly, in a mildly threatening tone. “He’s just joking… Aren’t you Bobby? Yes, of course you can put it on your wall, Amelia.”
“Yippee!”
And then, of course, Charlotte had to have two circuits as well. At least she was gentle with the whip. She liked Bobby a lot, and harboured fantasies that in a few years she could make him her boyfriend. So she didn’t want to hurt him; feeling close to him in this way was enough for her. Though of course, she had to have a picture as well...
In all the humiliation Bobby had quite forgot that Mélisande too had won the right to have a ride. But he was soon reminded. After Charlotte dismounted she took her whip from her, jumped on his back, and set off riding the lawn in a figure of eight, hanging onto his hair and using the whip to turn him either way. She even took him out of the end gate momentarily, but it was only to give him a few private words of advice.
“Be a good boy, Bobby, won’t you? You need to keep my friends entertained, so no more glaring and complaining – got it?” She gave him one good smack between the buttocks which made his eyes water.
“Yes! Yes, I understand…”
“So be pleasant and friendly and helpful…”
“But those pictures…”
“So what? They’re going to tell their friends anyway. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I hope not…”
“You silly boy…”
It was as if he was a little boy and she was a grown-up! How had this happened? But with a kick in the ribs he was already being driven back into the garden.
They arrived back at the patio to appreciative applause. At last he was unsaddled and allowed to remove his gloves and knee pads. He needed a drink. Lemonade and ice. A moment’s peace, sitting in the kitchen. He could hear the girls playing, the women chattering and laughing. He mopped his brow, and prayed there were no more unpleasant surprises to come that day.
4
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on Yesterday at 05:27:47 AM »
Chapter 144.
Emboldened by their success, the girls insisted on another game. Bobby, humiliated by his trouncing in the first one, convinced himself that it must have been an aberration. It was impossible a mere bunch of kids could have beaten him fair and square in a computer game. “It was that second dog,” he thought, “the one I called Old Mangy. He kept going the wrong way. This time I’ll use him to guard the big paddock…”
But in the second game he lost again. He did do better, scoring forty-nine points, but it was Mélisande who triumphed. It was difficult to think of something that could beat the previous forfeit, but after conferring for some time, Mélisande was heard to say. “I know!”. A whispered conversation was followed by a burst of giggling, then Amelia announced:
“Bobby’s going to be our pony and give each of us a ride round the garden! It was Mellie’s idea!”
The women burst out laughing.
“What a good idea, darling!” cried Clarissa. “How did you think of that?”
Bobby glared at Mélisande, and blushed with anger and embarrassment. That was just a little too close to the truth. He even had a momentary panic that she meant to go and get his pony suit.
“Poor Bobby!” laughed Natasha. “What about his hands and knees?”
“Oh, I can sort that,” said Clarissa. “I’ve got some old leather gloves that’ll fit him, and for his knees… I know, we can attach sponges to his knees with duct tape! What about that, Bobby?”
“Pity you don’t have a little saddle, too!” joked Bethany.
“Yes, Beth… Hey, wait a minute! Mélisande darling…didn’t you once have a miniature saddle? I bought it for you when you had your first pony.”
Mélisande caught on quickly. “Oh…yes, mummy, you’re right. I think it must be in the box room… No, I know! It’s in the old cupboard in the loose box! I saw it the other day. It even has stirrups! Shall I go and get it?”
“Yes, get it. I wonder if it might fit Bobby… You never know!”
Bobby was furious. He had been completely stitched up. But there was nothing he could do.
Mélisande disappeared, and returned a couple of minutes later carrying Bobby's saddle, from which dangled the girths and the stirrups, her hard hat, and her riding whip.
“Magic!” laughed Clarissa. “Bobby? Ready to be saddled? Let’s see if it fits. Mellie darling, could you bring me a hand-towel from the airing cupboard to use as saddle pad? Bobby, go down on all fours, please… Thank you…”
“I wonder…” said Bobby, as sarcastically as he could.
“Here, mummy…”
On went the towel, and then the little saddle.
“Well, well! Just look at that! A perfect fit!”
“That’s amazing,” exclaimed Bethany. “It could have been made for him!”
“Yes, it could!” agreed Clarissa, tightening the girth buckle . “And I would say the stirrup leathers are about the right length, yes, Mellie?”
“Yes, mummy. Perfect.”
“What a pity we don’t have a little bridle and bit for him. Never mind. Girls, you’ve both ridden a little, haven’t you? How do you turn a horse without using reins?”
“You can kick him on the side you want him to go…” suggested Charlotte.
“Amelia?”
“I would use the whip…and pull on his mane…”
“Yes. Good. You can borrow Mellie’s whip and hat, and we’ll take off his cap so you can hold onto his hair.” She flicked if off and tossed it aside. “Now, I’ll get the gloves. Mellie, could you find two sponges – there’s a pack of new ones in the kitchen cupboard, and the tape’s in the drawer.”
It didn’t take long. Clarissa taped the sponges to his knees, then as an afterthought folded his calves up and taped his ankles to his thighs, as if he were in his pony suit.
“There – we don’t want your nice trainers to get dirty, do we?”
She gave him the gloves to put on, and taped them tightly to his wrists. With a final check of the girths, she borrowed Mélisande’s whip and gave him a gentle slap on the side of his buttock.
“Go on, pony – outside please.”
Cheeks burning, he clambered over the base of the French windows and onto the patio. Another couple of slaps and he was on the grass. Charlotte and Amelia, clapping their hands with delight, danced along beside him.
“Right. Who’s going first?”
“Me, please!” cried Amelia, putting up her hand as if she were in class.
“Right. Get mounted then. That’s right…”
Everyone was outside now, laughing. Amelia climbed astride him, Clarissa helped her get her feet in the stirrups and put on the hard hat. For Bobby, used to carrying the heavier Mélisande in all her riding gear, Amelia felt like a feather. It was odd having his arms free, and no hooves, and the sponges were an irritation, but there were no real physical problems. No, it was just the humiliation, like that first time at Pitt’s Wood when they were auditioning for his rider. In his anonymous latex pony suit and mask, with Mellie on his back, with all the training he had undergone, he felt, well, almost a sense of pride in what they had achieved. This…this was the pits. He had to pretend it was a novelty. He couldn’t appear too natural, like it was something he did regularly, in case he aroused the mothers’ suspicions.
Mélisande, smirking with delight, took the whip from her mother and handed it to Amelia. She gave Bobby a pat on the head.
“Good pony – give Amelia a nice ride, won’t you?” And to Amelia, “See how fast he can go, Amelia. Keep slapping him if he slows down. That’s how you have to treat untrained ponies. Here, on the side of his bum. You can hit him quite hard – he won’t feel much through the rubber.”
Bobby glared at her – what a bitch she could be when she wanted! – and was about to make a sarcastic retort when Amelia grabbed a handful of hair, and Mélisande’s whip connected with his bottom. She had taken her friend at her word. But the fine latex of his pants was nothing like his heavy suit, and it really hurt.
“Oww! Stop it!”
Everyone went into fits of laughter, and Amelia, taking that as a vote of approval, gave him another one which sent him scurrying down the lawn.
Amelia didn’t spare the whip, and they arrived back at the patio to a round of applause, her face glowing with excitement and Bobby’s red with anger and exertion. She had only hit him on his right side, and he was uncomfortably sore.
“Am I a good rider, mummy?”
“Darling,” cooed Natasha, giving her a cuddle, “you’re a natural. I suppose I’ll have to start giving you riding lessons again.”
“Yes…please, mummy…”
“She can practise on Bobby for free,” laughed Clarissa.
Natasha bent down and ruffled his hair. “Bobby, you’re such a good sport! No wonder the girls love you! You don’t mind giving her another circuit, do you? I’d love to get a video of you both in action.”
“No, I’m sure he’d be delighted,” smiled Clarissa. “Wouldn’t you, Bobby?”
Emboldened by their success, the girls insisted on another game. Bobby, humiliated by his trouncing in the first one, convinced himself that it must have been an aberration. It was impossible a mere bunch of kids could have beaten him fair and square in a computer game. “It was that second dog,” he thought, “the one I called Old Mangy. He kept going the wrong way. This time I’ll use him to guard the big paddock…”
But in the second game he lost again. He did do better, scoring forty-nine points, but it was Mélisande who triumphed. It was difficult to think of something that could beat the previous forfeit, but after conferring for some time, Mélisande was heard to say. “I know!”. A whispered conversation was followed by a burst of giggling, then Amelia announced:
“Bobby’s going to be our pony and give each of us a ride round the garden! It was Mellie’s idea!”
The women burst out laughing.
“What a good idea, darling!” cried Clarissa. “How did you think of that?”
Bobby glared at Mélisande, and blushed with anger and embarrassment. That was just a little too close to the truth. He even had a momentary panic that she meant to go and get his pony suit.
“Poor Bobby!” laughed Natasha. “What about his hands and knees?”
“Oh, I can sort that,” said Clarissa. “I’ve got some old leather gloves that’ll fit him, and for his knees… I know, we can attach sponges to his knees with duct tape! What about that, Bobby?”
“Pity you don’t have a little saddle, too!” joked Bethany.
“Yes, Beth… Hey, wait a minute! Mélisande darling…didn’t you once have a miniature saddle? I bought it for you when you had your first pony.”
Mélisande caught on quickly. “Oh…yes, mummy, you’re right. I think it must be in the box room… No, I know! It’s in the old cupboard in the loose box! I saw it the other day. It even has stirrups! Shall I go and get it?”
“Yes, get it. I wonder if it might fit Bobby… You never know!”
Bobby was furious. He had been completely stitched up. But there was nothing he could do.
Mélisande disappeared, and returned a couple of minutes later carrying Bobby's saddle, from which dangled the girths and the stirrups, her hard hat, and her riding whip.
“Magic!” laughed Clarissa. “Bobby? Ready to be saddled? Let’s see if it fits. Mellie darling, could you bring me a hand-towel from the airing cupboard to use as saddle pad? Bobby, go down on all fours, please… Thank you…”
“I wonder…” said Bobby, as sarcastically as he could.
“Here, mummy…”
On went the towel, and then the little saddle.
“Well, well! Just look at that! A perfect fit!”
“That’s amazing,” exclaimed Bethany. “It could have been made for him!”
“Yes, it could!” agreed Clarissa, tightening the girth buckle . “And I would say the stirrup leathers are about the right length, yes, Mellie?”
“Yes, mummy. Perfect.”
“What a pity we don’t have a little bridle and bit for him. Never mind. Girls, you’ve both ridden a little, haven’t you? How do you turn a horse without using reins?”
“You can kick him on the side you want him to go…” suggested Charlotte.
“Amelia?”
“I would use the whip…and pull on his mane…”
“Yes. Good. You can borrow Mellie’s whip and hat, and we’ll take off his cap so you can hold onto his hair.” She flicked if off and tossed it aside. “Now, I’ll get the gloves. Mellie, could you find two sponges – there’s a pack of new ones in the kitchen cupboard, and the tape’s in the drawer.”
It didn’t take long. Clarissa taped the sponges to his knees, then as an afterthought folded his calves up and taped his ankles to his thighs, as if he were in his pony suit.
“There – we don’t want your nice trainers to get dirty, do we?”
She gave him the gloves to put on, and taped them tightly to his wrists. With a final check of the girths, she borrowed Mélisande’s whip and gave him a gentle slap on the side of his buttock.
“Go on, pony – outside please.”
Cheeks burning, he clambered over the base of the French windows and onto the patio. Another couple of slaps and he was on the grass. Charlotte and Amelia, clapping their hands with delight, danced along beside him.
“Right. Who’s going first?”
“Me, please!” cried Amelia, putting up her hand as if she were in class.
“Right. Get mounted then. That’s right…”
Everyone was outside now, laughing. Amelia climbed astride him, Clarissa helped her get her feet in the stirrups and put on the hard hat. For Bobby, used to carrying the heavier Mélisande in all her riding gear, Amelia felt like a feather. It was odd having his arms free, and no hooves, and the sponges were an irritation, but there were no real physical problems. No, it was just the humiliation, like that first time at Pitt’s Wood when they were auditioning for his rider. In his anonymous latex pony suit and mask, with Mellie on his back, with all the training he had undergone, he felt, well, almost a sense of pride in what they had achieved. This…this was the pits. He had to pretend it was a novelty. He couldn’t appear too natural, like it was something he did regularly, in case he aroused the mothers’ suspicions.
Mélisande, smirking with delight, took the whip from her mother and handed it to Amelia. She gave Bobby a pat on the head.
“Good pony – give Amelia a nice ride, won’t you?” And to Amelia, “See how fast he can go, Amelia. Keep slapping him if he slows down. That’s how you have to treat untrained ponies. Here, on the side of his bum. You can hit him quite hard – he won’t feel much through the rubber.”
Bobby glared at her – what a bitch she could be when she wanted! – and was about to make a sarcastic retort when Amelia grabbed a handful of hair, and Mélisande’s whip connected with his bottom. She had taken her friend at her word. But the fine latex of his pants was nothing like his heavy suit, and it really hurt.
“Oww! Stop it!”
Everyone went into fits of laughter, and Amelia, taking that as a vote of approval, gave him another one which sent him scurrying down the lawn.
Amelia didn’t spare the whip, and they arrived back at the patio to a round of applause, her face glowing with excitement and Bobby’s red with anger and exertion. She had only hit him on his right side, and he was uncomfortably sore.
“Am I a good rider, mummy?”
“Darling,” cooed Natasha, giving her a cuddle, “you’re a natural. I suppose I’ll have to start giving you riding lessons again.”
“Yes…please, mummy…”
“She can practise on Bobby for free,” laughed Clarissa.
Natasha bent down and ruffled his hair. “Bobby, you’re such a good sport! No wonder the girls love you! You don’t mind giving her another circuit, do you? I’d love to get a video of you both in action.”
“No, I’m sure he’d be delighted,” smiled Clarissa. “Wouldn’t you, Bobby?”
5
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Jamie and the Book Club
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on December 04, 2024, 02:08:41 PM »
Thanks! I’ve got an epilogue drafted, but it’s not quite there yet. There may be another part before the epilogue… still deciding.
I appreciate the encouragement :)
I appreciate the encouragement :)
6
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Jamie and the Book Club
« Last post by Norm43 on December 04, 2024, 08:54:52 AM »
Another wonderful story sissyboy1212! I hope you’ll be inspired to continue it, I’ve been checking daily hoping for an update on Jamie’s progress!!
7
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on December 04, 2024, 05:41:32 AM »
Chapter 143.
The children burst into the kitchen and could be heard laughing and squealing whilst they raided the fridge for drinks. After a few minutes they wandered into the living room, still chattering, faces flushed, Mélisande carrying a bowl full of chocolate bars, biscuits, and packets of crisps. Bobby followed behind, carrying his jacket and sipping from a can.
“Have a good time, girls?” asked Clarissa.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs Burlington,” mumbled Amelia, through a mouthful of chocolate. “I’m ‘sausted! Bobby was chasing us and he runs too fast!”
“You should tie his ankles together next time,” suggested Natasha.
Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! C’mon, let’s do it now!”
“No,” protested Bobby. “I’m too tired. It’s hard work chasing you lot. There’s three of you and only one of me. You’re the ones that need tying up.”
“Okay, why don’t you all just relax for a bit,” said Clarissa. “Play some quiet indoor games for a bit. Mellie? Come here, darling.”
Mélisande went over to her mother. Clarissa whispered to her for a few moments. Then she went and joined the others sitting on the floor.
“Why don’t we play a game?” she said, after finishing her snack.
“Okay Mellie. What we gonna play?” asked Charlotte.
“How about Sheep Round-Up?”
“What’s that?” asked Bobby, with a faint sneer.
“Oh, you wouldn’t be any good at it,” said Mélisande, dismissively, “it’s a computer game.”
“Yeah? Wanna bet, Mellie? I bet I could wipe the floor with you three!”
This should be fun, he thought. What, doesn't she know I was like one of the top players in my year? I'm the best - and they're a bunch of kids! No chance.
“Okay, then. You’ll probably slow us down, but we’ll let you play.”
“So generous of you…”
“But the one with the lowest score has to do a forfeit. Agreed?”
“Of course.”
“Anything the other three decide. Anything.”
“Yes. All right. Get on with it.”
Sheep Round-Up turned out to be a little more difficult than Bobby had imagined. He was used to playing fast-action games for teenagers. This was a kids’ game, and the rules were…well, unless the girls were explaining them badly…simply baffling! Mellie explained.
“See, you’ve got to get as many sheep as possible in this pen. But it only holds a hundred, and there are…I don’t know, maybe a hundred and twenty – the twenty are strays, see? So you have to get them in this other pen over here. But you’ve only got two dogs, and you need one of them to stay behind to guard the first pen, so no sheep can escape – but some always do – while the second dog – oh, by the way, you can give the dogs names, see? Like mine are always Danny an’ Bobby – yeah, I called him after you – not cos you’re like a dog…more a pony, I think… Anyway, so the second dog has to try to catch the strays and put them in the second pen – though if dogs have escaped from the first pen, he can put them in there… There’s a time limit, and at the end you’ll get your score. Get it?”
“Er, yeah…” said Bobby, not wishing to appear stupid. “Er… Do you play this game often?”
“Oh, yes. All the time!” cried Amelia. “It’s great. Charlotte’s brilliant at it!”
Charlotte won the first game. All the girls scored over a hundred. Bobby got twenty-seven.
“You have to do a forfeit, Bobby! Now, what shall we make him do…?”
The girls went into a huddle. After a lot of giggling, they decided he had to perform “I’m a little teapot”, with all the body and hand movements. They found the words online, and while Bobby was learning them, Bethany, who fancied herself as a bit of a poet, contrived to write a third verse, which altered the teapot to a piggy! The ladies had fun instructing him in the appropriate movements for the new verse, which were not difficult to devise. They insisted he do it on the patio, and opened the French doors so the mothers could get a good view. They warned him that if he made any mistakes he’d have to start again. Once everyone was ready, with their phones out to preserve his performance for posterity, he was instructed to begin. He looked so comical performing in his cute little Boot Boy outfit, they found it hard to keep their phones steady. But after four repeats they were satisfied, both with the quality of his act and of their videos.
I’m a little teapot
Short and stout.
Here’s my handle,
Here’s my spout.
When I get all steamed up
Hear me shout:
Tip me over
And pour me out!
I’m a very special pot
This is true.
Here is an example
Of what I do.
I can change my handle
And my spout.
Tip me over
And pour me out!
I’m a little piggy
Here’s my snout:
Pull my tail
And make me pout.
Rolling in the mud
When I go out:
I’m a little piggy
There’s no doubt!
For the final verse he was required to squash his nose with his finger and roll his eyes, point at his bottom, and finally roll on the ground. Clarissa was so impressed she surreptitiously sent the video to Miss Poole, with the message, “Miss Poole – as you can see, Bobby is already in training for his new position, and can provide entertainment as well as boot service to anyone who requests it…” Then she sat back in her chair and watched it again. Yes, it was a really special one. That last verse of Bethany’s was genius. But for some reason the bit that made her smile the most was when he sang:
“When I get all steamed up
Hear me shout:
Tip me over
And pour me out!”
The children burst into the kitchen and could be heard laughing and squealing whilst they raided the fridge for drinks. After a few minutes they wandered into the living room, still chattering, faces flushed, Mélisande carrying a bowl full of chocolate bars, biscuits, and packets of crisps. Bobby followed behind, carrying his jacket and sipping from a can.
“Have a good time, girls?” asked Clarissa.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs Burlington,” mumbled Amelia, through a mouthful of chocolate. “I’m ‘sausted! Bobby was chasing us and he runs too fast!”
“You should tie his ankles together next time,” suggested Natasha.
Charlotte’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! C’mon, let’s do it now!”
“No,” protested Bobby. “I’m too tired. It’s hard work chasing you lot. There’s three of you and only one of me. You’re the ones that need tying up.”
“Okay, why don’t you all just relax for a bit,” said Clarissa. “Play some quiet indoor games for a bit. Mellie? Come here, darling.”
Mélisande went over to her mother. Clarissa whispered to her for a few moments. Then she went and joined the others sitting on the floor.
“Why don’t we play a game?” she said, after finishing her snack.
“Okay Mellie. What we gonna play?” asked Charlotte.
“How about Sheep Round-Up?”
“What’s that?” asked Bobby, with a faint sneer.
“Oh, you wouldn’t be any good at it,” said Mélisande, dismissively, “it’s a computer game.”
“Yeah? Wanna bet, Mellie? I bet I could wipe the floor with you three!”
This should be fun, he thought. What, doesn't she know I was like one of the top players in my year? I'm the best - and they're a bunch of kids! No chance.
“Okay, then. You’ll probably slow us down, but we’ll let you play.”
“So generous of you…”
“But the one with the lowest score has to do a forfeit. Agreed?”
“Of course.”
“Anything the other three decide. Anything.”
“Yes. All right. Get on with it.”
Sheep Round-Up turned out to be a little more difficult than Bobby had imagined. He was used to playing fast-action games for teenagers. This was a kids’ game, and the rules were…well, unless the girls were explaining them badly…simply baffling! Mellie explained.
“See, you’ve got to get as many sheep as possible in this pen. But it only holds a hundred, and there are…I don’t know, maybe a hundred and twenty – the twenty are strays, see? So you have to get them in this other pen over here. But you’ve only got two dogs, and you need one of them to stay behind to guard the first pen, so no sheep can escape – but some always do – while the second dog – oh, by the way, you can give the dogs names, see? Like mine are always Danny an’ Bobby – yeah, I called him after you – not cos you’re like a dog…more a pony, I think… Anyway, so the second dog has to try to catch the strays and put them in the second pen – though if dogs have escaped from the first pen, he can put them in there… There’s a time limit, and at the end you’ll get your score. Get it?”
“Er, yeah…” said Bobby, not wishing to appear stupid. “Er… Do you play this game often?”
“Oh, yes. All the time!” cried Amelia. “It’s great. Charlotte’s brilliant at it!”
Charlotte won the first game. All the girls scored over a hundred. Bobby got twenty-seven.
“You have to do a forfeit, Bobby! Now, what shall we make him do…?”
The girls went into a huddle. After a lot of giggling, they decided he had to perform “I’m a little teapot”, with all the body and hand movements. They found the words online, and while Bobby was learning them, Bethany, who fancied herself as a bit of a poet, contrived to write a third verse, which altered the teapot to a piggy! The ladies had fun instructing him in the appropriate movements for the new verse, which were not difficult to devise. They insisted he do it on the patio, and opened the French doors so the mothers could get a good view. They warned him that if he made any mistakes he’d have to start again. Once everyone was ready, with their phones out to preserve his performance for posterity, he was instructed to begin. He looked so comical performing in his cute little Boot Boy outfit, they found it hard to keep their phones steady. But after four repeats they were satisfied, both with the quality of his act and of their videos.
I’m a little teapot
Short and stout.
Here’s my handle,
Here’s my spout.
When I get all steamed up
Hear me shout:
Tip me over
And pour me out!
I’m a very special pot
This is true.
Here is an example
Of what I do.
I can change my handle
And my spout.
Tip me over
And pour me out!
I’m a little piggy
Here’s my snout:
Pull my tail
And make me pout.
Rolling in the mud
When I go out:
I’m a little piggy
There’s no doubt!
For the final verse he was required to squash his nose with his finger and roll his eyes, point at his bottom, and finally roll on the ground. Clarissa was so impressed she surreptitiously sent the video to Miss Poole, with the message, “Miss Poole – as you can see, Bobby is already in training for his new position, and can provide entertainment as well as boot service to anyone who requests it…” Then she sat back in her chair and watched it again. Yes, it was a really special one. That last verse of Bethany’s was genius. But for some reason the bit that made her smile the most was when he sang:
“When I get all steamed up
Hear me shout:
Tip me over
And pour me out!”
8
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on December 03, 2024, 11:38:15 AM »
Chapter 142.
He walked to the door of the living room. He could hear animated voices within. He hesitated. Clarissa gave him a gentle shove. He took a deep breath, and entered.
There was a communal intake of breath, followed by a moment stunned silence. Then whoops and cries of delight.
“Bobby! You look fantastic!” cried Charlotte.
“Wow! Bobby! Incredible! So cute!” added Amelia jumping up and running towards him to get a closer look. “You even put on your choker! It’s great! I’m jealous!”
Then Charlotte joined her, and they were touching the smooth latex and tugging at the frills, and looking him up and down. Bethany and Natasha were laughing an applauding.
“Well, you’re a big hit here,” said Bethany, “and I’ll bet you’ll be an even bigger one when you start work!”
“Oh, you’re one handsome guy, all right!” cried Natasha. “God, you’re so fanciable in that outfit. Don’t you think so, Beth?”
“He’s gorgeous,” said Beth, with just a touch of seriousness in her tone.
“Now, now, ladies,” laughed Clarissa. “Behave yourselves, please!” But as she said it she blushed a little, thinking of the things she got up to with Bobby.
As for Bobby himself, in his innocence, his initial embarrassment was quickly being overcome by his natural vanity. Soon he was revelling in the admiration of the women and the excitement of the girls, and his smile was no longer forced, but happy and natural. And when Bethany and Natasha produced their phones and started taking snaps, he was easily persuaded to pose for them. Clarissa couldn’t help laughing, and when she caught Mélisande’s eye they both went into fits. Natasha asked to see his jacket, and when he passed it over she and Bethany examined it very closely.
“This is amazing quality, Nat. I love the translucence of the latex…and the workmanship! Clarissa? Who made Bobby’s uniform?”
“Oh, it’s a company called Fantastex, run by a very nice lady called Cynthia. They can make absolutely anything in latex. This isn’t the only outfit he has, you know…”
“Let’s go out in the garden and play,” cried Amelia, grabbing Bobby’s hand. Charlotte took the other, and they pulled him towards the door. With a wink to her mother, Mélisande followed.
“Here, take his jacket,” said Bethany, tossing it to her. “Have fun, kids!”
The three women were left together in the living room. Clarissa poured some coffee.
“Well, well, Clarissa,” said Bethany. “That boy… Quite a revelation. So he’s pretty much living with you now?”
“For the time being…”
“Is there a particular reason?”
“Well…yes, there is. But I’m afraid can’t tell you what it is, at least, not without breaking a promise. Maybe in a few months I’ll be able to explain.”
“That’s all right. Lucky you, though. He’s so sweet…”
“And cute,” added Natasha. “I wouldn’t mind having him hanging around my house, I can tell you. Though Graham may not like it too much! And in that latex gear… Is that…I mean, does he have a thing about latex, or…”
“Yeah. And what about the boot stuff? Is he into all that?”
“Okay girls. It’s like this. I don’t think I’m telling you anything that isn’t obvious. Yes, Bobby’s definitely got a serious fetish. Girls in boots… I wouldn’t say they drive him wild. It’s not like that. It’s more than they make him weak at the knees – so weak he just has to kneel, if you get my meaning. That’s when he’s happiest, I think… No, that’s not right. That’s when he’s most fulfilled. He’s a natural submissive, and leather and rubber clothes just drain any power he has. It’s like Kryptonite to Superman. He’s shy of girls, too. He hasn’t got a girlfriend. I don't think he really desires girls physically. He yearns for them, but they have to be clothed, and clothed in a certain way. Then he’ll do anything for any woman. Dressed as he is now I could make him do anything I wanted. If I told him to go down to the mall, stand on a box, and sing Ave Maria, he’d do it. Later on you can tell him to polish your boots. He’ll obey without question, and he’ll love it. Whether it’s knee boots like yours, Beth, or ankle boots like yours, Nat, he’ll be your slave. More so when he’s wearing latex himself.”
“Isn’t that a bit dangerous – for him, I mean…?”
“I suppose so. But we all make sure he’s always safe. Safe and satisfied. Look at him now…”
The ladies looked out of the French doors. Bobby was chasing the girls wildly around the garden.
“He such a nice bloke. The worst we do is to embarrass him. He’s really easy to embarrass. It’s so fun to make him squirm and blush. Maybe I’ll show you that when they come in. Or I’ll get Mélisande to do it – even better! She has total control of him. Half his size but complete authority. He’d do absolutely anything for her. I think she’s the only girl he’s actually in love with. Sometimes she has to discipline him. He takes it without a murmur.”
“Discipline him? What exactly…” asked Natasha. “Do you mean…?”
“Tell him off. Slap his leg, Spank him if necessary.”
“Spank him?”
“Oh yes. Because he can be rude at times, and under the present er…arrangement, she's the person responsible for supervising his behaviour. She has carte blanche. She’s very mature and trustworthy.”
“Goodness, Clarissa,” exclaimed Bethany, “I had no idea you had such interesting things going on. I feel I want to know more.”
“I can’t tell you much more at the moment, Bethany. And I’d be grateful if you’d both make sure the girls don’t breathe a word about today to anyone. For the time being Bobby’s occupation needs to stay secret.”
“Don’t worry, Clarissa. We’re going to talk to the girls at home and make sure they understand.”
“Thanks. Oh, by the way. You might want to visit the Pitt’s Wood Open Day in October. Mélisande’s supposed to be making a special appearance just before the main dressage competition. It should be fun.”
“Really? What’s she going to be doing?”
“Just riding a little pony. Just a short novelty act.”
“Well of course we’ll both go, won’t we Nat? Take the kids. They’d like to see Mélisande perform, I’m sure.”
“Yeah. They’ll probably ask us anyway.”
“But we were talking about Bobby. I’d heard of him already – how he knocked over Mélisande when he was running for the bus. That’s how they became friends, isn’t it?”
Clarissa laughed. “Not quite... But look, I think they’ve decided to come in. Okay. Maybe we can have some fun…”
He walked to the door of the living room. He could hear animated voices within. He hesitated. Clarissa gave him a gentle shove. He took a deep breath, and entered.
There was a communal intake of breath, followed by a moment stunned silence. Then whoops and cries of delight.
“Bobby! You look fantastic!” cried Charlotte.
“Wow! Bobby! Incredible! So cute!” added Amelia jumping up and running towards him to get a closer look. “You even put on your choker! It’s great! I’m jealous!”
Then Charlotte joined her, and they were touching the smooth latex and tugging at the frills, and looking him up and down. Bethany and Natasha were laughing an applauding.
“Well, you’re a big hit here,” said Bethany, “and I’ll bet you’ll be an even bigger one when you start work!”
“Oh, you’re one handsome guy, all right!” cried Natasha. “God, you’re so fanciable in that outfit. Don’t you think so, Beth?”
“He’s gorgeous,” said Beth, with just a touch of seriousness in her tone.
“Now, now, ladies,” laughed Clarissa. “Behave yourselves, please!” But as she said it she blushed a little, thinking of the things she got up to with Bobby.
As for Bobby himself, in his innocence, his initial embarrassment was quickly being overcome by his natural vanity. Soon he was revelling in the admiration of the women and the excitement of the girls, and his smile was no longer forced, but happy and natural. And when Bethany and Natasha produced their phones and started taking snaps, he was easily persuaded to pose for them. Clarissa couldn’t help laughing, and when she caught Mélisande’s eye they both went into fits. Natasha asked to see his jacket, and when he passed it over she and Bethany examined it very closely.
“This is amazing quality, Nat. I love the translucence of the latex…and the workmanship! Clarissa? Who made Bobby’s uniform?”
“Oh, it’s a company called Fantastex, run by a very nice lady called Cynthia. They can make absolutely anything in latex. This isn’t the only outfit he has, you know…”
“Let’s go out in the garden and play,” cried Amelia, grabbing Bobby’s hand. Charlotte took the other, and they pulled him towards the door. With a wink to her mother, Mélisande followed.
“Here, take his jacket,” said Bethany, tossing it to her. “Have fun, kids!”
The three women were left together in the living room. Clarissa poured some coffee.
“Well, well, Clarissa,” said Bethany. “That boy… Quite a revelation. So he’s pretty much living with you now?”
“For the time being…”
“Is there a particular reason?”
“Well…yes, there is. But I’m afraid can’t tell you what it is, at least, not without breaking a promise. Maybe in a few months I’ll be able to explain.”
“That’s all right. Lucky you, though. He’s so sweet…”
“And cute,” added Natasha. “I wouldn’t mind having him hanging around my house, I can tell you. Though Graham may not like it too much! And in that latex gear… Is that…I mean, does he have a thing about latex, or…”
“Yeah. And what about the boot stuff? Is he into all that?”
“Okay girls. It’s like this. I don’t think I’m telling you anything that isn’t obvious. Yes, Bobby’s definitely got a serious fetish. Girls in boots… I wouldn’t say they drive him wild. It’s not like that. It’s more than they make him weak at the knees – so weak he just has to kneel, if you get my meaning. That’s when he’s happiest, I think… No, that’s not right. That’s when he’s most fulfilled. He’s a natural submissive, and leather and rubber clothes just drain any power he has. It’s like Kryptonite to Superman. He’s shy of girls, too. He hasn’t got a girlfriend. I don't think he really desires girls physically. He yearns for them, but they have to be clothed, and clothed in a certain way. Then he’ll do anything for any woman. Dressed as he is now I could make him do anything I wanted. If I told him to go down to the mall, stand on a box, and sing Ave Maria, he’d do it. Later on you can tell him to polish your boots. He’ll obey without question, and he’ll love it. Whether it’s knee boots like yours, Beth, or ankle boots like yours, Nat, he’ll be your slave. More so when he’s wearing latex himself.”
“Isn’t that a bit dangerous – for him, I mean…?”
“I suppose so. But we all make sure he’s always safe. Safe and satisfied. Look at him now…”
The ladies looked out of the French doors. Bobby was chasing the girls wildly around the garden.
“He such a nice bloke. The worst we do is to embarrass him. He’s really easy to embarrass. It’s so fun to make him squirm and blush. Maybe I’ll show you that when they come in. Or I’ll get Mélisande to do it – even better! She has total control of him. Half his size but complete authority. He’d do absolutely anything for her. I think she’s the only girl he’s actually in love with. Sometimes she has to discipline him. He takes it without a murmur.”
“Discipline him? What exactly…” asked Natasha. “Do you mean…?”
“Tell him off. Slap his leg, Spank him if necessary.”
“Spank him?”
“Oh yes. Because he can be rude at times, and under the present er…arrangement, she's the person responsible for supervising his behaviour. She has carte blanche. She’s very mature and trustworthy.”
“Goodness, Clarissa,” exclaimed Bethany, “I had no idea you had such interesting things going on. I feel I want to know more.”
“I can’t tell you much more at the moment, Bethany. And I’d be grateful if you’d both make sure the girls don’t breathe a word about today to anyone. For the time being Bobby’s occupation needs to stay secret.”
“Don’t worry, Clarissa. We’re going to talk to the girls at home and make sure they understand.”
“Thanks. Oh, by the way. You might want to visit the Pitt’s Wood Open Day in October. Mélisande’s supposed to be making a special appearance just before the main dressage competition. It should be fun.”
“Really? What’s she going to be doing?”
“Just riding a little pony. Just a short novelty act.”
“Well of course we’ll both go, won’t we Nat? Take the kids. They’d like to see Mélisande perform, I’m sure.”
“Yeah. They’ll probably ask us anyway.”
“But we were talking about Bobby. I’d heard of him already – how he knocked over Mélisande when he was running for the bus. That’s how they became friends, isn’t it?”
Clarissa laughed. “Not quite... But look, I think they’ve decided to come in. Okay. Maybe we can have some fun…”
9
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on December 03, 2024, 11:22:24 AM »
Chapter 141.
Bobby’s room being downstairs, Clarissa led the way with her arm around him, the others following behind and chattering delightedly. They parted ways at the foot of the stairs. Clarissa walked ahead to his little room and opened the door for him. Once inside, Bobby started to remonstrate.
“Miss? Why did you do that? I wouldn’t have minded if it was just your friends, but Charlotte and Amelia… They’ll never be able to keep their mouths shut…”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. I’m going to talk to their mothers. In any case, why should you worry? You’re done with that school.”
“Yes, I know. But now they know about Pitt’s Wood, too. If word gets around…”
“If word gets around you’ll get even more paying customers. You’re going to make a small fortune, young man. You can’t do that without making a few sacrifices.”
Bobby grunted. The thought of the money he was going to make mollified him somewhat.
“Now, let’s get you dressed.” She opened the bottom drawer in the chest. “Here. Hot pants first. Take your clothes off and get these on. I’ll turn my back.”
Still grumbling, he slipped out of his everyday clothes and into his blue and yellow latex pants, ready dusted with rose-scented talc. They were cool and light. He looked own at them. Well, at least there was no chance of him disgracing himself today. His normally unruly member had, at the prospect of public exposure, shrunk to the size of a button mushroom. It nestled modestly on the blue side of his pants to the right of the seam, just above the latex leg frilling, determined to efface itself as much as possible.
“Ready.”
Clarissa passed him his yellow spandex T-shirt with Boot Boy Bobby proudly emblazoned across the chest. He pulled it on, pulled it down so it fitted snugly, tucked it into his pants, and buckled the yellow plastic buckle on his blue latex belt. Next came his short yellow socks and blue trainers with yellow laces. He sat on the side of the bed, put them on, and laced them up. Then his Boot Boy cap, and the short yellow latex gloves with blue frills around the wrists.
“There. Show me. Stand up straight, silly, don’t slouch. You look stunning. Look at yourself in the mirror. How smart is that?”
“But, auntie… Do I really have to? I mean…”
“Yes, you do. Don’t be so shy! If you’re all shy and nervous those girls will see it and make fun of you. Have confidence in yourself, Bobby! Think of this as practice for Pitt’s Wood. You won’t be able to hide away there, now will you? Right. Good, I’m glad you understand. Now… Oh, what’s this? I’d forgotten. Your choker!”
“I don’t need that…”
“It’s part of the uniform. Cynthia gave it to me for nothing, just to complete the effect. Look, it’s just a simple blue ring of latex…”
“Yeah – with tiny yellow frills all round!”
“Yes. To match your uniform! She made purposely so it fits your neck without need of any adjustments. Come here… Take off your cap for a second… Bend forward…get it over you big head… There. Perfect!”
Bobby groaned, but she ignored him. He put his cap back on.
“Now, take your jacket… No, you don’t have to put it on right away. Maybe later, in the garden.”
“Later? How long have I got to wear all this then?”
“For the rest of the day. Hush! No objections, or I’ll tell your aunt. This is the perfect practice session. And you’ll find after all the initial attention you’ll forget all about it. That’s what you need to do. So let’s go then. You first…go on.”
Bobby’s room being downstairs, Clarissa led the way with her arm around him, the others following behind and chattering delightedly. They parted ways at the foot of the stairs. Clarissa walked ahead to his little room and opened the door for him. Once inside, Bobby started to remonstrate.
“Miss? Why did you do that? I wouldn’t have minded if it was just your friends, but Charlotte and Amelia… They’ll never be able to keep their mouths shut…”
“Oh, I’m sure they will. I’m going to talk to their mothers. In any case, why should you worry? You’re done with that school.”
“Yes, I know. But now they know about Pitt’s Wood, too. If word gets around…”
“If word gets around you’ll get even more paying customers. You’re going to make a small fortune, young man. You can’t do that without making a few sacrifices.”
Bobby grunted. The thought of the money he was going to make mollified him somewhat.
“Now, let’s get you dressed.” She opened the bottom drawer in the chest. “Here. Hot pants first. Take your clothes off and get these on. I’ll turn my back.”
Still grumbling, he slipped out of his everyday clothes and into his blue and yellow latex pants, ready dusted with rose-scented talc. They were cool and light. He looked own at them. Well, at least there was no chance of him disgracing himself today. His normally unruly member had, at the prospect of public exposure, shrunk to the size of a button mushroom. It nestled modestly on the blue side of his pants to the right of the seam, just above the latex leg frilling, determined to efface itself as much as possible.
“Ready.”
Clarissa passed him his yellow spandex T-shirt with Boot Boy Bobby proudly emblazoned across the chest. He pulled it on, pulled it down so it fitted snugly, tucked it into his pants, and buckled the yellow plastic buckle on his blue latex belt. Next came his short yellow socks and blue trainers with yellow laces. He sat on the side of the bed, put them on, and laced them up. Then his Boot Boy cap, and the short yellow latex gloves with blue frills around the wrists.
“There. Show me. Stand up straight, silly, don’t slouch. You look stunning. Look at yourself in the mirror. How smart is that?”
“But, auntie… Do I really have to? I mean…”
“Yes, you do. Don’t be so shy! If you’re all shy and nervous those girls will see it and make fun of you. Have confidence in yourself, Bobby! Think of this as practice for Pitt’s Wood. You won’t be able to hide away there, now will you? Right. Good, I’m glad you understand. Now… Oh, what’s this? I’d forgotten. Your choker!”
“I don’t need that…”
“It’s part of the uniform. Cynthia gave it to me for nothing, just to complete the effect. Look, it’s just a simple blue ring of latex…”
“Yeah – with tiny yellow frills all round!”
“Yes. To match your uniform! She made purposely so it fits your neck without need of any adjustments. Come here… Take off your cap for a second… Bend forward…get it over you big head… There. Perfect!”
Bobby groaned, but she ignored him. He put his cap back on.
“Now, take your jacket… No, you don’t have to put it on right away. Maybe later, in the garden.”
“Later? How long have I got to wear all this then?”
“For the rest of the day. Hush! No objections, or I’ll tell your aunt. This is the perfect practice session. And you’ll find after all the initial attention you’ll forget all about it. That’s what you need to do. So let’s go then. You first…go on.”
10
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on December 03, 2024, 05:23:51 AM »
Chapter 140.
Mélisande stopped in her tracks. She’d forgotten all about it. The poster of Bobby on the back of her wardrobe door! Amelia had already joined her friend and let out a squeal of delight. Both of them started looking from the poster to Bobby and back again.
“It is him! Bobby, this is you, right? Boot Boy?”
Mélisande stepped forward, pushed them aside, and slammed the door.
“Who said you could look in my wardrobe?” she snapped.
Now, had she been a little more laid-back, simply laughed it off while she thought of an explanation, everything may have been all right. But instead her brusque reaction told the girls they had uncovered a big big secret. She tried to row back, but it was too late.
“Oh, yeah…like Bobby…last Halloween…remember Bobby? That silly outfit…”
“What does it mean…Boot Boy,” asked Charlotte, suspiciously.
“Yeah, Mellie,” added Amelia. “And why is he all in blue and yellow? And wearing those funny little hot pants things?”
At last Bobby understood. He went white, then red.
“Can we see it again? Pleeeze….”
Mélisande was thinking fast. If she said no, they’d become even more suspicious. If she said yes…
Oh, what the hell. They’d seen it now, anyway. She glanced at Bobby. He had such a comic expression on his face - fear, anxiety and helplessness all mixed together – that she couldn’t supress a sudden laugh.
“Here. Help yourselves.” She threw open the door and watched as they gawped and goggled at Bobby the Boot Boy, in all his glory. After staring at it for the best part of a minute, they simultaneously turned their gazes on Bobby himself, standing awkwardly between them and the door. Their eyes were sparkling, dimples forming in their cheeks, and smiles on their lips.
“What do boot boys…do?” asked Charlotte, slowly.
“I-I…er…you know…I m-mean…”
“They clean boots,” said Mélisande, curtly, “of course. Bobby’s very good at it, aren’t you, Bobby?”
Charlotte and Amelia exchanged glances, then without another word ran out of the room together.
“Mummy! Mummy! Come and see! Bobby’s a…a boot boy! And he has a uniform!”
Bobby stared at Mélisande. He walked over and opened the wardrobe door fully. For a moment he was speechless. Then,
“Why? Why would you have that where anyone could see it? And how did you get it?”
“I like it there. It makes me smile every time I get my clothes out. So what?”
“But…”
“You can’t keep it a secret forever, Bobby. What about when you’re working at the stables?”
“I’ll have a mask…”
“You seriously think no-one will know who you are?”
“But…I mean…Charlotte and…”
But at that moment the girls returned, with all three women in tow.
“Look mummy! Bobby’s a boot boy! See? He really is. Do you like his outfit?”
Amelia was genuinely enthusiastic. Bobby was in despair. Bethany and Natasha studied the poster carefully.
Natasha looked at him, a smile flickering on her lips. “Bobby… You really are a boot boy, then. That’s so cool!”
“I love your uniform,” added Bethany, with mock innocence. “It's so pretty! I love the yellow and blue - they go together so nicely.” She peered closely. “And if I'm not mistaken...isn’t that....” She looked at Clarissa and mouthed the word “latex?” Clarissa gave a single discreet nod. “Wow! Er...do you…have it here?”
Clarissa was equal to the situation. The unfortunate accident could not be undone, but she would do her best to make the whole thing as prosaic as possible. The main thing was to demystify for the benefit of the daughters.
“Bobby was trained as a boot boy by his aunt Nicole. He’s very very good at cleaning all types of boots. She has quite a collection, you see, and when he was younger she came across him one day cleaning them for her. “I wondered why my boots were always so clean and shiny!” she exclaimed. “Would you like to be a boot boy when you grow up? I can train you so you’ll be the best.” “Yes please, auntie,” said Bobby – didn’t you, Bobby?”
Bobby nodded, slowly. What else could he do?
“So she trained him up, and bought him a couple of nice uniforms, and a proper sets of polishes, cloths and brushes, and now… Well, I’m going to tell you a secret, but you mustn’t tell anyone else. Promise? Charlotte, Amelia…promise?”
“Yes, Mrs Burlington! We promise!” in chorus.
“Well then… Bobby’s been offered a job as official Boot Boy to Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre! He’s going to work there in his very own special boot parlour starting very soon. But it’s a secret job – he’s going to be a sort of super boot boy with a secret identity, so no-one must know it’s him. Do you understand?”
“Yes…we understand,” said Charlotte – glancing again at the poster and looking as though she understood only too well, “but…does he have his uniform here…?”
Clarissa sighed. She looked at her friends and shrugged. Bobby felt panic rising inside him. “No…” he prayed silently … “don’t…please…”
“He does have one….”
“Yippee! Is it that one?”
“Yes, Amelia.”
“Can he….?”
“Bobby? Just for my friends and the girls? They’d so like to see…and you do look so smart…”
“Go on Bobby,” said Bethany. “We’d love to see you in your gear. You can clean my boots if you’d like… And I promise to come and use your service once you’re installed at Pitt’s Wood…”
Bobby could only stammer inarticulately.
“Good. That’s settled then,” smiled Clarissa. “If you’d all like to go back downstairs, I’ll take Bobby to his room and help him get ready. Come on, Bobby…”
Mélisande stopped in her tracks. She’d forgotten all about it. The poster of Bobby on the back of her wardrobe door! Amelia had already joined her friend and let out a squeal of delight. Both of them started looking from the poster to Bobby and back again.
“It is him! Bobby, this is you, right? Boot Boy?”
Mélisande stepped forward, pushed them aside, and slammed the door.
“Who said you could look in my wardrobe?” she snapped.
Now, had she been a little more laid-back, simply laughed it off while she thought of an explanation, everything may have been all right. But instead her brusque reaction told the girls they had uncovered a big big secret. She tried to row back, but it was too late.
“Oh, yeah…like Bobby…last Halloween…remember Bobby? That silly outfit…”
“What does it mean…Boot Boy,” asked Charlotte, suspiciously.
“Yeah, Mellie,” added Amelia. “And why is he all in blue and yellow? And wearing those funny little hot pants things?”
At last Bobby understood. He went white, then red.
“Can we see it again? Pleeeze….”
Mélisande was thinking fast. If she said no, they’d become even more suspicious. If she said yes…
Oh, what the hell. They’d seen it now, anyway. She glanced at Bobby. He had such a comic expression on his face - fear, anxiety and helplessness all mixed together – that she couldn’t supress a sudden laugh.
“Here. Help yourselves.” She threw open the door and watched as they gawped and goggled at Bobby the Boot Boy, in all his glory. After staring at it for the best part of a minute, they simultaneously turned their gazes on Bobby himself, standing awkwardly between them and the door. Their eyes were sparkling, dimples forming in their cheeks, and smiles on their lips.
“What do boot boys…do?” asked Charlotte, slowly.
“I-I…er…you know…I m-mean…”
“They clean boots,” said Mélisande, curtly, “of course. Bobby’s very good at it, aren’t you, Bobby?”
Charlotte and Amelia exchanged glances, then without another word ran out of the room together.
“Mummy! Mummy! Come and see! Bobby’s a…a boot boy! And he has a uniform!”
Bobby stared at Mélisande. He walked over and opened the wardrobe door fully. For a moment he was speechless. Then,
“Why? Why would you have that where anyone could see it? And how did you get it?”
“I like it there. It makes me smile every time I get my clothes out. So what?”
“But…”
“You can’t keep it a secret forever, Bobby. What about when you’re working at the stables?”
“I’ll have a mask…”
“You seriously think no-one will know who you are?”
“But…I mean…Charlotte and…”
But at that moment the girls returned, with all three women in tow.
“Look mummy! Bobby’s a boot boy! See? He really is. Do you like his outfit?”
Amelia was genuinely enthusiastic. Bobby was in despair. Bethany and Natasha studied the poster carefully.
Natasha looked at him, a smile flickering on her lips. “Bobby… You really are a boot boy, then. That’s so cool!”
“I love your uniform,” added Bethany, with mock innocence. “It's so pretty! I love the yellow and blue - they go together so nicely.” She peered closely. “And if I'm not mistaken...isn’t that....” She looked at Clarissa and mouthed the word “latex?” Clarissa gave a single discreet nod. “Wow! Er...do you…have it here?”
Clarissa was equal to the situation. The unfortunate accident could not be undone, but she would do her best to make the whole thing as prosaic as possible. The main thing was to demystify for the benefit of the daughters.
“Bobby was trained as a boot boy by his aunt Nicole. He’s very very good at cleaning all types of boots. She has quite a collection, you see, and when he was younger she came across him one day cleaning them for her. “I wondered why my boots were always so clean and shiny!” she exclaimed. “Would you like to be a boot boy when you grow up? I can train you so you’ll be the best.” “Yes please, auntie,” said Bobby – didn’t you, Bobby?”
Bobby nodded, slowly. What else could he do?
“So she trained him up, and bought him a couple of nice uniforms, and a proper sets of polishes, cloths and brushes, and now… Well, I’m going to tell you a secret, but you mustn’t tell anyone else. Promise? Charlotte, Amelia…promise?”
“Yes, Mrs Burlington! We promise!” in chorus.
“Well then… Bobby’s been offered a job as official Boot Boy to Pitt’s Wood Equestrian Centre! He’s going to work there in his very own special boot parlour starting very soon. But it’s a secret job – he’s going to be a sort of super boot boy with a secret identity, so no-one must know it’s him. Do you understand?”
“Yes…we understand,” said Charlotte – glancing again at the poster and looking as though she understood only too well, “but…does he have his uniform here…?”
Clarissa sighed. She looked at her friends and shrugged. Bobby felt panic rising inside him. “No…” he prayed silently … “don’t…please…”
“He does have one….”
“Yippee! Is it that one?”
“Yes, Amelia.”
“Can he….?”
“Bobby? Just for my friends and the girls? They’d so like to see…and you do look so smart…”
“Go on Bobby,” said Bethany. “We’d love to see you in your gear. You can clean my boots if you’d like… And I promise to come and use your service once you’re installed at Pitt’s Wood…”
Bobby could only stammer inarticulately.
“Good. That’s settled then,” smiled Clarissa. “If you’d all like to go back downstairs, I’ll take Bobby to his room and help him get ready. Come on, Bobby…”
The more you give, the more I can give back.
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