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81
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#6)
« Last post by petticoated on May 16, 2025, 03:54:05 PM »
Once again, that Feminine sound of stiletto heels meeting the hardwood floors of the intimate bar caught Leighton's attention. Just as he was getting ready to take a bite of his grilled salmon salad, his mouth dropped open and he nearly dropped his fork. She was gorgeous! This absolute blonde beauty! And ohhhh how She was dressed. She was wearing a Tonal Boucle Tweed Skirt Suit in a pale lavender. Her mini length luxurious tweed fabric skirt featured two large button flap pockets. Her matching collared jacket also featured two large button flap pockets as well. Her pale lavender 5-inch heels matched her feminine power suit perfectly. Her thick wavy blonde hair was worn in a high ponytail. Her makeup featured pale lavender eyeshadow, a light dusting of blush on her cheeks, and light rose pink lipstick. She was carrying a light ivory-colored leather Dior clutch. She had a wide smile on her face as she hugged her friend(?). "Sorry I am late. My last meeting went much longer than I thought it would." "No worries. Don and I were just watching the soccer match while I sat at the bar and kept him company." The woman in the red minidress waved to Don and he nodded. The blonde then kissed the woman in red lightly on her cheek, looked at the gift bag, and replied, laughingly, "For me?" "Of course! Happy Early Anniversary! Three years tomorrow! I couldn't wait until tomorrow to give you this. When I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you. Go ahead. Open it!" Don brought the women two glasses of champagne as they took their seats While all of this was playing out not more than thirty feet from where Leighton was dining, by himself, he watched the beautiful blonde in her gorgeous boucle miniskirt smooth her skirt before sitting. Reaching for the gift bag, she exclaimed, "La Femme Boutique! OMG! I love that place!" Excitedly removing the rustling decorative pink tissue paper from the top, she discovered the laciest white lace bra Leighton had ever seen...in all of his hundreds...no, thousands of late-night internet searches. His eyes were fixated on the prize.The beautiful blonde held it up and fingered the lace cups. "OMG! It's beautiful! It's soooo light!" Leighton immediately took quick notice that her pale pink nail polish was the perfect complement to Her brand new ultrafeminine white lace bra...
82
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 01:15:25 PM »
Chapter 174.
Outside, the girls were now playing “he” – appropriate because at that very moment it was Bobby being pursued by Harriett. Harriett having the shortest legs, she was being caught the easiest, and Bobby had decided to give her a chance. So instead of exploiting his natural superiority, he pretended to slip as he turned so she could catch him. Harriett, instead of being satisfied with a touch, reached out and grabbed the only thing available – Bobby’s skirt. At the same time she fell over, dragging it down around his ankles, tripping him and sending him flying onto the grass. He was left flat on his face, Harriett lying behind him, his skirt still clutched in her hand. The other girls screamed with laughter. But Harriett had had an idea, and as Bobby was struggling to his feet, she jumped up and ran past him.
“Hey! My skirt!” cried Bobby.
But she was gone. She ran straight into the living-room through the open French doors. Miki tried to catch her, but she swerved, and they heard her galloping up the stairs.
“Little menace!” hissed Miki, jumping up. “Harriett! Come down here at once!” But the only reply was silence. “I’ll go get her.” She looked out into the garden, and grinned. Bobby was sitting on the grass, mitts placed strategically in lap, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
She climbed the stairs. It was very quiet. She checked all the bedrooms. No Harriett. She found her eventually, hiding in a wardrobe.
“Okay where is it?” She did her best to sound stern. “Harriett, where’s Bobby’s skirt? Tell me please. Harriett!”
But Harriett would only smile, bite her finger, and shake her head.
“Harriett. We’re going to have ice-cream soon. None for you until you tell me where you’ve hidden Bobby’s skirt.”
Harriett’s dark eyes gleamed with mischief, but reply there came none. Clarissa appeared on the scene.
“Harriet, sweetie – Bobby needs his skirt, darling, Just tell us where it is, and we can go have some nice cold ice-cream, yes? What’s your favourite?”
At least she got a response. Harriet giggled. “Bobby looks funny. Boys shouldn’t wear skirts.”
And that was all they could get out of her. They searched for ten minutes, and gave up. They all went back down. Bobby was lying on his side, facing the house. He had been on his back, but the combined effect of the fine, taut latex and the warmth of the sun had been having a stimulating effect, and now lying on his tummy was out of the question.
“Sorry, Bobby. Your skirt’s disappeared.”
“What? No…it must be somewhere. Harriett…?”
“She refuses to tell us. Never mind. Let’s have some ice-cream on the lawn. Harriett? Naughty girl! But I suppose you need some too…”
“Yay!”
They all sat around on the lawn, in the shade of the house, eating melting ice-cream out of little dishes. Bobby, unable to hold a spoon, had to be fed. Noting his red ears and defensive posture, Miki volunteered, spooning ice-cream into his mouth whilst dabbing at the drips which spilled down his front with a tissue, which was soon slick with melted vanilla. Then, by tilting the spoon, she contrived to drop a blob onto the front of his hotpants, giving herself the perfect excuse to give them some attention.
“Bobby! Don’t be silly! For goodness’ sake! Take your hands away and let me wipe it up!”
As she mopped at the latex, she squeezed the soaked ball of tissue so that it actually made matters worse, coating the front of his pants with slimy ice-cream. Positioning herself between he and the others, so they couldn’t see what she was doing, she proceeded to work the pad of sticky tissue steadily up and down the growing bulge, periodically sliding it around under the stretched latex, and slapping his mitts aside whenever they tried to intervene.
In the space of a few minutes, she had brought him to a state of quite satisfactory tumescence. He dared not move, let alone get up, and was forced to sit there hiding behind Miki, struggling vainly against arousal, as she gently coaxed him towards maximum dilation. Not until the swollen head of his boyhood had thrust upwards almost to the silver waistband of his hot pants, did she consent to reach for the baby wipes, and restore the soiled latex to its original glossy perfection, paying particular attention to the sausage-shaped bulge, until it was twitching desperately and gleaming proudly in the sunshine. She couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter at his burning cheeks, and the expression of dismay on his face. She had no idea how, in this situation, he was going to deal with such a massive erection. She couldn’t imagine that after her thorough and careful ministrations, and given the tautness of the latex and the warmth of the afternoon sun, it would be subsiding any time soon. Garden games would be out of the question. But she was interested to see how enterprising he could be, with not even a little skirt to hide his plight. As she rose to her feet, his fists slipped quickly back into his lap. Before she walked away, she ruffled his hair.
“More ice-cream, Bobby?”
Outside, the girls were now playing “he” – appropriate because at that very moment it was Bobby being pursued by Harriett. Harriett having the shortest legs, she was being caught the easiest, and Bobby had decided to give her a chance. So instead of exploiting his natural superiority, he pretended to slip as he turned so she could catch him. Harriett, instead of being satisfied with a touch, reached out and grabbed the only thing available – Bobby’s skirt. At the same time she fell over, dragging it down around his ankles, tripping him and sending him flying onto the grass. He was left flat on his face, Harriett lying behind him, his skirt still clutched in her hand. The other girls screamed with laughter. But Harriett had had an idea, and as Bobby was struggling to his feet, she jumped up and ran past him.
“Hey! My skirt!” cried Bobby.
But she was gone. She ran straight into the living-room through the open French doors. Miki tried to catch her, but she swerved, and they heard her galloping up the stairs.
“Little menace!” hissed Miki, jumping up. “Harriett! Come down here at once!” But the only reply was silence. “I’ll go get her.” She looked out into the garden, and grinned. Bobby was sitting on the grass, mitts placed strategically in lap, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
She climbed the stairs. It was very quiet. She checked all the bedrooms. No Harriett. She found her eventually, hiding in a wardrobe.
“Okay where is it?” She did her best to sound stern. “Harriett, where’s Bobby’s skirt? Tell me please. Harriett!”
But Harriett would only smile, bite her finger, and shake her head.
“Harriett. We’re going to have ice-cream soon. None for you until you tell me where you’ve hidden Bobby’s skirt.”
Harriett’s dark eyes gleamed with mischief, but reply there came none. Clarissa appeared on the scene.
“Harriet, sweetie – Bobby needs his skirt, darling, Just tell us where it is, and we can go have some nice cold ice-cream, yes? What’s your favourite?”
At least she got a response. Harriet giggled. “Bobby looks funny. Boys shouldn’t wear skirts.”
And that was all they could get out of her. They searched for ten minutes, and gave up. They all went back down. Bobby was lying on his side, facing the house. He had been on his back, but the combined effect of the fine, taut latex and the warmth of the sun had been having a stimulating effect, and now lying on his tummy was out of the question.
“Sorry, Bobby. Your skirt’s disappeared.”
“What? No…it must be somewhere. Harriett…?”
“She refuses to tell us. Never mind. Let’s have some ice-cream on the lawn. Harriett? Naughty girl! But I suppose you need some too…”
“Yay!”
They all sat around on the lawn, in the shade of the house, eating melting ice-cream out of little dishes. Bobby, unable to hold a spoon, had to be fed. Noting his red ears and defensive posture, Miki volunteered, spooning ice-cream into his mouth whilst dabbing at the drips which spilled down his front with a tissue, which was soon slick with melted vanilla. Then, by tilting the spoon, she contrived to drop a blob onto the front of his hotpants, giving herself the perfect excuse to give them some attention.
“Bobby! Don’t be silly! For goodness’ sake! Take your hands away and let me wipe it up!”
As she mopped at the latex, she squeezed the soaked ball of tissue so that it actually made matters worse, coating the front of his pants with slimy ice-cream. Positioning herself between he and the others, so they couldn’t see what she was doing, she proceeded to work the pad of sticky tissue steadily up and down the growing bulge, periodically sliding it around under the stretched latex, and slapping his mitts aside whenever they tried to intervene.
In the space of a few minutes, she had brought him to a state of quite satisfactory tumescence. He dared not move, let alone get up, and was forced to sit there hiding behind Miki, struggling vainly against arousal, as she gently coaxed him towards maximum dilation. Not until the swollen head of his boyhood had thrust upwards almost to the silver waistband of his hot pants, did she consent to reach for the baby wipes, and restore the soiled latex to its original glossy perfection, paying particular attention to the sausage-shaped bulge, until it was twitching desperately and gleaming proudly in the sunshine. She couldn’t suppress a snort of laughter at his burning cheeks, and the expression of dismay on his face. She had no idea how, in this situation, he was going to deal with such a massive erection. She couldn’t imagine that after her thorough and careful ministrations, and given the tautness of the latex and the warmth of the afternoon sun, it would be subsiding any time soon. Garden games would be out of the question. But she was interested to see how enterprising he could be, with not even a little skirt to hide his plight. As she rose to her feet, his fists slipped quickly back into his lap. Before she walked away, she ruffled his hair.
“More ice-cream, Bobby?”
83
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 12:34:55 PM »
Chapter 173.
“Darling – that is such a cool outfit!” cried Clarissa, emerging from the kitchen clutching a tea-towel. “Bobby? No-one else could have found such great things. Mellie, why don’t you go and show the others? Bobby – go with her. I’ll come and take your photos, too.”
She dumped the tea-towel and ushered them into the garden where the others were playing. It was a bright warm day, but there was quite a brisk breeze, and despite his best efforts Bobby’s little light dance skirt was soon flying in the wind. He had just managed to pin down the front with his bemittened fists, when Clarissa called him to join in the photographs. She had already taken a dozen of Mélisande, and now she wanted Mélisande and her friends, Mélisande and Bobby, Mélisande and her friends and Bobby, and Bobby by himself. It was a long session, with Nicole and Miki also wanting pictures for their albums, and the girls snapping everything in sight. So long as he was able to keep the skirt pressed against his thighs he was safe - but unfortunately for him none of the photographers wanted to have his mittens in their pictures, so he was obliged to stand with his hands behind his back or behind others’ backs, and hope for the best. But the wind was uncooperative, and decided the best place for his skirt was wrapped around his waist, and the sun did its part by reflecting off the glossy latex and highlighting all his important contours. Scrolling through their pictures afterwards in the living-room, the ladies were delighted with the results.
“I think I’ll send this one to Bethany and Natasha,” said Clarissa, showing the others a photo of Bobby flanked on one side by Amelia and the other by Charlotte.
“Oh, yes, definitely,” laughed Nicole. “They’ll love that. If they want they can trim out their daughters and enlarge the main subject.”
“Oh… I don’t think it needs enlarging, somehow…” remarked Miki, much to their amusement.
Clarissa made coffee, and they opened the French doors, and sat at the table chatting and watching the children play. Mélisande had changed out of her new riding outfit and into a T-shirt and shorts, no it should not get spoiled.
“So, Miki… What do you think of my nephew?” asked Nicole.
“I like him. He’s very cute. I’m tired of all these blokes with big egos – bored with all their big talk. It’s so nice to see someone who isn’t trying to show off, who’s not playing tough, who‘s sweet and kind and modest. I can see he really cares for Mélisande. He was really chuffed she loved her presents.” She paused. “How come they’re such good friends?”
Clarissa and Nicole looked at each other.
“There is something else we haven’t told you about them,” said Nicole. “No. it’s nothing shocking, don’t worry. But they do have a special – an unusual – relationship. If you want to find out what it is, you’ll have to wait... In fact, precisely two weeks. Saturday the eighteenth. If you’re free, come with us to the Pitt’s Wood show.”
“Really? How mysterious! Okay, it’s a date. I’m hearing things about Pitt’s Wood that make me very intrigued. So I will come.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” laughed Clarissa.
“Is Bobby dating anyone?”
Nicole let out a little squeal of laughter. She covered her mouth.
“Sorry about that! No, he’s not. Why do you ask?”
“Why did you laugh?”
“No…no, I shouldn’t have. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be. It’s just…he’s so busy…this and that… And I don’t think he’s interested in girls…per se. He’s more into clothes…and boots!” She giggled again.
“Do you fancy your luck, Miki?” asked Clarissa, tongue in cheek.
“Maybe. He interests me. We’re about the same height – though he’s quite muscly and strong – and I was thinking he’d look good in a few of my outfits.”
“Oh. You like your men…?”
“Feminised. Yes, Nicole. I do, as a matter of fact.”
“I see. Well, it’s his birthday next Wednesday. Shall I invite you? He’s got a few friends coming. Mélisande, of course. Clarissa. A couple of my friends.”
“Would you?”
“You’re invited. Wear some cool boots, won’t you?”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’m already thinking about a present…”
“Let me text you the address. Come any time. The boys will arrive just before lunch.”
“I’ll be there!”
“Darling – that is such a cool outfit!” cried Clarissa, emerging from the kitchen clutching a tea-towel. “Bobby? No-one else could have found such great things. Mellie, why don’t you go and show the others? Bobby – go with her. I’ll come and take your photos, too.”
She dumped the tea-towel and ushered them into the garden where the others were playing. It was a bright warm day, but there was quite a brisk breeze, and despite his best efforts Bobby’s little light dance skirt was soon flying in the wind. He had just managed to pin down the front with his bemittened fists, when Clarissa called him to join in the photographs. She had already taken a dozen of Mélisande, and now she wanted Mélisande and her friends, Mélisande and Bobby, Mélisande and her friends and Bobby, and Bobby by himself. It was a long session, with Nicole and Miki also wanting pictures for their albums, and the girls snapping everything in sight. So long as he was able to keep the skirt pressed against his thighs he was safe - but unfortunately for him none of the photographers wanted to have his mittens in their pictures, so he was obliged to stand with his hands behind his back or behind others’ backs, and hope for the best. But the wind was uncooperative, and decided the best place for his skirt was wrapped around his waist, and the sun did its part by reflecting off the glossy latex and highlighting all his important contours. Scrolling through their pictures afterwards in the living-room, the ladies were delighted with the results.
“I think I’ll send this one to Bethany and Natasha,” said Clarissa, showing the others a photo of Bobby flanked on one side by Amelia and the other by Charlotte.
“Oh, yes, definitely,” laughed Nicole. “They’ll love that. If they want they can trim out their daughters and enlarge the main subject.”
“Oh… I don’t think it needs enlarging, somehow…” remarked Miki, much to their amusement.
Clarissa made coffee, and they opened the French doors, and sat at the table chatting and watching the children play. Mélisande had changed out of her new riding outfit and into a T-shirt and shorts, no it should not get spoiled.
“So, Miki… What do you think of my nephew?” asked Nicole.
“I like him. He’s very cute. I’m tired of all these blokes with big egos – bored with all their big talk. It’s so nice to see someone who isn’t trying to show off, who’s not playing tough, who‘s sweet and kind and modest. I can see he really cares for Mélisande. He was really chuffed she loved her presents.” She paused. “How come they’re such good friends?”
Clarissa and Nicole looked at each other.
“There is something else we haven’t told you about them,” said Nicole. “No. it’s nothing shocking, don’t worry. But they do have a special – an unusual – relationship. If you want to find out what it is, you’ll have to wait... In fact, precisely two weeks. Saturday the eighteenth. If you’re free, come with us to the Pitt’s Wood show.”
“Really? How mysterious! Okay, it’s a date. I’m hearing things about Pitt’s Wood that make me very intrigued. So I will come.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” laughed Clarissa.
“Is Bobby dating anyone?”
Nicole let out a little squeal of laughter. She covered her mouth.
“Sorry about that! No, he’s not. Why do you ask?”
“Why did you laugh?”
“No…no, I shouldn’t have. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be. It’s just…he’s so busy…this and that… And I don’t think he’s interested in girls…per se. He’s more into clothes…and boots!” She giggled again.
“Do you fancy your luck, Miki?” asked Clarissa, tongue in cheek.
“Maybe. He interests me. We’re about the same height – though he’s quite muscly and strong – and I was thinking he’d look good in a few of my outfits.”
“Oh. You like your men…?”
“Feminised. Yes, Nicole. I do, as a matter of fact.”
“I see. Well, it’s his birthday next Wednesday. Shall I invite you? He’s got a few friends coming. Mélisande, of course. Clarissa. A couple of my friends.”
“Would you?”
“You’re invited. Wear some cool boots, won’t you?”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’m already thinking about a present…”
“Let me text you the address. Come any time. The boys will arrive just before lunch.”
“I’ll be there!”
84
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 12:28:57 PM »
Chapter 172.
Lunch proceeded in a generally calm manner, largely due to the quality of Clarissa’s cooking. Her home-made pizzas were irresistible, and her chocolate nut sundaes actually tasted even better than they looked – which was quite an achievement. Miki sat next to Bobby and fed him – the mittens prevented him from holding anything - much to his chagrin and the others’ amusement. Only Harriett was a little out of control, her excess of energy preventing her from sitting in a chair for more than a few seconds at a time, until she was eventually released into the garden, where she spent her time alternately feeding ice-cream to the next door’s cat, and chasing him when he had had enough. Eventually Mélisande asked to leave the table, in accordance with an established rule of the household, and the others followed. Whilst her four friends followed Harriett outside, Clarissa and Nicole cleared the table and went into the kitchen to do the washing-up, leaving Bobby and Miki together in the living-room.
“Mellie loved her present. You obviously know her taste well. Have you been friends for long?” asked Miki, politely, but curious about the exact nature of their relationship.
“Well, not really that long…”
“Where did you meet?”
“Er… At Pitt’s Wood riding school…”
“Oh! You ride! So do I. I don’t know Pitt’s Wood. We live nearer Fleetford, so I always go there. How long have you been riding?”
“No, I, er… I don’t really ride…it’s Mellie that rides, I…”
“Oh. So what’s the connection with Pitt’s Wood?”
“Well, I, er…will be working there later this year…”
“As…?”
“Oh, you know, general stuff…admin sort of things…”
This was getting difficult. Miki could see she was making him uncomfortable. But it was sort of fun.
“One of those ladies mentioned something about a boot boy outfit…”
“Oh, yeah…that too…”
“You’ll be cleaning boots for the riders?”
“Sometimes…yes.”
“That’s a really useful job.”
This was getting more and more interesting.
“So you have to wear a special uniform for that?”
“Yes…it goes with the job.
“So… What’s with today's outfit? I mean, you look fantastic. I’m fascinated. What is it, exactly?”
Nicole’s voice broke in from the kitchen.
“Tell Miki what it’s called, Bobby. Remember?”
Miki looked at him expectantly.
“Go on.”
“Er…yeah…it’s…it’s a, er…”
“Have you forgotten?”
“No aunt. “ He steeled himself. He couldn’t look her in the face. He managed to
mumble, “It’s a superfine latex d-dance hotpants unitard…”
“Speak up, Bobby!” from the kitchen.
“It’s a …superfine latex dance hotpants unitard,” he blurted, ears on fire.
“Wow.” Miki feigned astonishment. “I thought it might be latex. But you’ve really gone the whole hog, Bobby. I mean, the socks! And the cute headband. And everything! Gorgeous! And those mittens…are they latex too?”
Bobby glowered. “Yes...”
Nicole appeared at the kitchen door. “That was my idea. Bobby’s been pestering me for some slightly more girly outfits. His boot boy uniform’s very boyish. So my supplier came up with this. I think it suits him really well.”
“I agree.”
“See Bobby? Miki’s got good taste. Listen to her. There’s no reason to be shy. Yes, I put him in mitts so he can’t mess around with it. You know what boys are like – obsessed with their appearance. Worse than girls!”
“It’s true, Nicole. Bobby, you look great. Don’t change anything. Then maybe your aunt will let you take your mitts off.”
“Oops. Can’t do that. Padlocks. Left the key at home, I’m afraid…”
“Auntie!”
“Sorry. Didn’t think you’d need to take them off…”
“But my skirt keeps riding up…”
“Well there’s nothing to see except you little frilly shorts…”
Bobby gave a frustrated sigh.
“Might as well make the most of it, Bobby,” said Miki, stroking his arm condescendingly, as if she were an adult and he was a little boy, instead of their being about the same age. “You’re a lucky boy to have an auntie who buys you such smart clothes. What’s it called again? “Superfine…something?”
He glared at her. Nicole looked at him severely. “Answer Miki, please, Bobby…”
“A superfine latex…” he began, through gritted teeth.
“Yes, such beautiful fine latex…”
“…unitard dance….I mean dance hotpants unitard…”
“Such cute little hotpants…love the little frills…”
Before he could stop her, she’d given the frilling on one leg a playful tug, so that when she let it go the leg-band smacked sharply against his thigh.
“Ouch!”
“It’ll take all that,” remarked Nicole, blithely. “I’m told that special latex is so tough. You don’t have to worry about any accidents with tears or splits… “
“Just as well,” smirked Miki, with a meaningful glance at the taut latex. “Oh, here’s Mélisande. Wow! What a posh outfit!”
Mélisande had put on her new breeches and boots over a simple white shirt. She looked natural and beautiful. When she was younger, Clarissa had had a tendency to want to doll her up – makeup, bleached hair and so on – but Mélisande’s obsession with horses and riding had put paid to all that. She gave Bobby such a loving smile that his heart seemed to miss a beat. In that moment, all his little humiliations evaporated, and his life felt suffused with sunshine.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m going to wear these for the show, of course. If that’s all right…”
“I was hoping you might…”
“You look a million dollars, Mellie!” criied Nicole. “Clarissa? Come see your beautiful daughter…”
Lunch proceeded in a generally calm manner, largely due to the quality of Clarissa’s cooking. Her home-made pizzas were irresistible, and her chocolate nut sundaes actually tasted even better than they looked – which was quite an achievement. Miki sat next to Bobby and fed him – the mittens prevented him from holding anything - much to his chagrin and the others’ amusement. Only Harriett was a little out of control, her excess of energy preventing her from sitting in a chair for more than a few seconds at a time, until she was eventually released into the garden, where she spent her time alternately feeding ice-cream to the next door’s cat, and chasing him when he had had enough. Eventually Mélisande asked to leave the table, in accordance with an established rule of the household, and the others followed. Whilst her four friends followed Harriett outside, Clarissa and Nicole cleared the table and went into the kitchen to do the washing-up, leaving Bobby and Miki together in the living-room.
“Mellie loved her present. You obviously know her taste well. Have you been friends for long?” asked Miki, politely, but curious about the exact nature of their relationship.
“Well, not really that long…”
“Where did you meet?”
“Er… At Pitt’s Wood riding school…”
“Oh! You ride! So do I. I don’t know Pitt’s Wood. We live nearer Fleetford, so I always go there. How long have you been riding?”
“No, I, er… I don’t really ride…it’s Mellie that rides, I…”
“Oh. So what’s the connection with Pitt’s Wood?”
“Well, I, er…will be working there later this year…”
“As…?”
“Oh, you know, general stuff…admin sort of things…”
This was getting difficult. Miki could see she was making him uncomfortable. But it was sort of fun.
“One of those ladies mentioned something about a boot boy outfit…”
“Oh, yeah…that too…”
“You’ll be cleaning boots for the riders?”
“Sometimes…yes.”
“That’s a really useful job.”
This was getting more and more interesting.
“So you have to wear a special uniform for that?”
“Yes…it goes with the job.
“So… What’s with today's outfit? I mean, you look fantastic. I’m fascinated. What is it, exactly?”
Nicole’s voice broke in from the kitchen.
“Tell Miki what it’s called, Bobby. Remember?”
Miki looked at him expectantly.
“Go on.”
“Er…yeah…it’s…it’s a, er…”
“Have you forgotten?”
“No aunt. “ He steeled himself. He couldn’t look her in the face. He managed to
mumble, “It’s a superfine latex d-dance hotpants unitard…”
“Speak up, Bobby!” from the kitchen.
“It’s a …superfine latex dance hotpants unitard,” he blurted, ears on fire.
“Wow.” Miki feigned astonishment. “I thought it might be latex. But you’ve really gone the whole hog, Bobby. I mean, the socks! And the cute headband. And everything! Gorgeous! And those mittens…are they latex too?”
Bobby glowered. “Yes...”
Nicole appeared at the kitchen door. “That was my idea. Bobby’s been pestering me for some slightly more girly outfits. His boot boy uniform’s very boyish. So my supplier came up with this. I think it suits him really well.”
“I agree.”
“See Bobby? Miki’s got good taste. Listen to her. There’s no reason to be shy. Yes, I put him in mitts so he can’t mess around with it. You know what boys are like – obsessed with their appearance. Worse than girls!”
“It’s true, Nicole. Bobby, you look great. Don’t change anything. Then maybe your aunt will let you take your mitts off.”
“Oops. Can’t do that. Padlocks. Left the key at home, I’m afraid…”
“Auntie!”
“Sorry. Didn’t think you’d need to take them off…”
“But my skirt keeps riding up…”
“Well there’s nothing to see except you little frilly shorts…”
Bobby gave a frustrated sigh.
“Might as well make the most of it, Bobby,” said Miki, stroking his arm condescendingly, as if she were an adult and he was a little boy, instead of their being about the same age. “You’re a lucky boy to have an auntie who buys you such smart clothes. What’s it called again? “Superfine…something?”
He glared at her. Nicole looked at him severely. “Answer Miki, please, Bobby…”
“A superfine latex…” he began, through gritted teeth.
“Yes, such beautiful fine latex…”
“…unitard dance….I mean dance hotpants unitard…”
“Such cute little hotpants…love the little frills…”
Before he could stop her, she’d given the frilling on one leg a playful tug, so that when she let it go the leg-band smacked sharply against his thigh.
“Ouch!”
“It’ll take all that,” remarked Nicole, blithely. “I’m told that special latex is so tough. You don’t have to worry about any accidents with tears or splits… “
“Just as well,” smirked Miki, with a meaningful glance at the taut latex. “Oh, here’s Mélisande. Wow! What a posh outfit!”
Mélisande had put on her new breeches and boots over a simple white shirt. She looked natural and beautiful. When she was younger, Clarissa had had a tendency to want to doll her up – makeup, bleached hair and so on – but Mélisande’s obsession with horses and riding had put paid to all that. She gave Bobby such a loving smile that his heart seemed to miss a beat. In that moment, all his little humiliations evaporated, and his life felt suffused with sunshine.
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m going to wear these for the show, of course. If that’s all right…”
“I was hoping you might…”
“You look a million dollars, Mellie!” criied Nicole. “Clarissa? Come see your beautiful daughter…”
85
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 12:21:36 PM »
Chapter 171.
Once they were out of the door, Nicole went to fetch Bobby. He was hiding in the side room holding onto to hem of his little silver skirt with his bemittened hands.
“Auntie… This skirt’s too short… The latex is so smooth the waistband just keeps sliding up, and I can’t pull it down…”
“Well it’s not meant to be a proper skirt. It’s more decorative. It’s a dance costume. When you dance the skirt flies up anyway.”
“Dance? I’m not doing any dancing!”
“No, Bobby. I didn’t say you were. Now come along. Those mothers have left. Come and meet the others. You look amazing, you know that? Mélisande’s going to be so excited when she sees her present…”
The desire to give Mélisande her present overcame all other considerations. Bobby picked up the box and followed his aunt to the living room. As he entered, there were screams from the group of girls. He went straight to the table and put down the box.
“Happy birthday, Mellie.”
She stared “Bobby! You look great! That’s an amazing outfit! I was expecting a dress… But that’s incredible!” Eventually she turned to the box. “Thank you!”
Bobby looked around. Mélisande’s friends were all staring at him wide-eyed. The younger one was only interested in the presents. The older girl had turned her head and was smiling at him, but without a hint of surprise. She wore a short leather mini-skirt and a white shirt, her long hair framing a pretty face and delicate features.
“Hi. I’m Miki,” she said with disarming composure, extending a hand.
“Hi.”
He blushed, and they briefly touched fingers. Her hand was cool and steady. He felt a rush of shyness.. He had not expected to have to face a young woman, especially such a confident one. Despite the proximity of their ages, he felt like a child in the presence of an adult. And was he mistaken, or was there not a mischievous sparkle in her eyes…?
As Mélisande was undoing the ribbon, Amelia and Charlotte were still goggling at his costume. Amelia already had her phone out, taking a surreptitious snap. Michaela looked gobsmacked. Trixie and Rochelle were looking puzzled; was this the “Bobby” they had been hearing about? But this was, at first sight, a girl - and one at least as big as Michaela. Little Harriett was only interested in the box.
“Open it, Mellie!”
Big girls are always respected by little ones. So Trixie, somewhat doubtfully, stepped forward. She was a slight girl, with tightly-curled ginger hair, wearing a sparkly green party dress with a 1920s flavour. She looked like a baby flapper.
“Hello. We haven’t met. I’m Trixie. This is my friend Rochelle.”
Bobby coloured slightly. But Trixie seemed nice and polite. “Hi. I’m Bobby. Nice to meet you.”
Rochelle was in a different mould. She had tinted blonde hair, combed very straight, which extended almost to her waist. She was wearing trainers, distressed denim shorts, a garish yellow T-shirt, and a cropped leather jacket – and too much makeup. She pushed out her breasts – such as they were – and grinned, showing her braces.
“Hi. You’re a boy, in’t yer, Bobby? Why you all dressed up as a girl?”
“Because he wants to, Rochelle,” interjected Mélisande. “Bobby can be anything he pleases, but first of all he’s my best friend. This looks very intriguing, Bobby…”
Having effectively put her down, Mélisande lifted the lid of the shiny box, and removed the top layer of tissue. She gasped.
“It’s beautiful!”
Rochelle, a sulky expression on her face, was whispering something to Trixie, at which they both sniggered. “Latex, innit?” added Rochelle, loud enough for everyone to hear. Mélisande ignored them. Her four friends, instead of sharing in the excitement of her present, were now staring delightedly at Bobby, and exchanging excited whispers. Bobby turned a deeper shade of scarlet and shifted from one foot to the other, clinging to the hem of his little skirt. Mélisande had reached her new breeches.
“Bobby! You’re a genius! I was only saying to mum yesterday I should get some cool black jods! Thank you! And what’s this…? Oh my god!”
“I hope you like them…”
“They’re…beautiful! Mum! Look at these!”
“Gosh, darling. You’re going to be the belle of the show in those…”
“Thank you – thank you!” She threw her arms round Bobby, nearly knocking him over. “I’m gonna have to try them on right now!”
Her four friends were exchanging astonished looks, like four women outraged at a friend’s behaviour. Nicole had seen those expressions many times before – sheer undisguised jealousy.
“Darling… Not right this minute, please. After lunch. The food’s ready, and everyone’s hungry. Yes?”
“Okay, mum. But that is my bestest present, Bobby. You’re so clever…”
Once they were out of the door, Nicole went to fetch Bobby. He was hiding in the side room holding onto to hem of his little silver skirt with his bemittened hands.
“Auntie… This skirt’s too short… The latex is so smooth the waistband just keeps sliding up, and I can’t pull it down…”
“Well it’s not meant to be a proper skirt. It’s more decorative. It’s a dance costume. When you dance the skirt flies up anyway.”
“Dance? I’m not doing any dancing!”
“No, Bobby. I didn’t say you were. Now come along. Those mothers have left. Come and meet the others. You look amazing, you know that? Mélisande’s going to be so excited when she sees her present…”
The desire to give Mélisande her present overcame all other considerations. Bobby picked up the box and followed his aunt to the living room. As he entered, there were screams from the group of girls. He went straight to the table and put down the box.
“Happy birthday, Mellie.”
She stared “Bobby! You look great! That’s an amazing outfit! I was expecting a dress… But that’s incredible!” Eventually she turned to the box. “Thank you!”
Bobby looked around. Mélisande’s friends were all staring at him wide-eyed. The younger one was only interested in the presents. The older girl had turned her head and was smiling at him, but without a hint of surprise. She wore a short leather mini-skirt and a white shirt, her long hair framing a pretty face and delicate features.
“Hi. I’m Miki,” she said with disarming composure, extending a hand.
“Hi.”
He blushed, and they briefly touched fingers. Her hand was cool and steady. He felt a rush of shyness.. He had not expected to have to face a young woman, especially such a confident one. Despite the proximity of their ages, he felt like a child in the presence of an adult. And was he mistaken, or was there not a mischievous sparkle in her eyes…?
As Mélisande was undoing the ribbon, Amelia and Charlotte were still goggling at his costume. Amelia already had her phone out, taking a surreptitious snap. Michaela looked gobsmacked. Trixie and Rochelle were looking puzzled; was this the “Bobby” they had been hearing about? But this was, at first sight, a girl - and one at least as big as Michaela. Little Harriett was only interested in the box.
“Open it, Mellie!”
Big girls are always respected by little ones. So Trixie, somewhat doubtfully, stepped forward. She was a slight girl, with tightly-curled ginger hair, wearing a sparkly green party dress with a 1920s flavour. She looked like a baby flapper.
“Hello. We haven’t met. I’m Trixie. This is my friend Rochelle.”
Bobby coloured slightly. But Trixie seemed nice and polite. “Hi. I’m Bobby. Nice to meet you.”
Rochelle was in a different mould. She had tinted blonde hair, combed very straight, which extended almost to her waist. She was wearing trainers, distressed denim shorts, a garish yellow T-shirt, and a cropped leather jacket – and too much makeup. She pushed out her breasts – such as they were – and grinned, showing her braces.
“Hi. You’re a boy, in’t yer, Bobby? Why you all dressed up as a girl?”
“Because he wants to, Rochelle,” interjected Mélisande. “Bobby can be anything he pleases, but first of all he’s my best friend. This looks very intriguing, Bobby…”
Having effectively put her down, Mélisande lifted the lid of the shiny box, and removed the top layer of tissue. She gasped.
“It’s beautiful!”
Rochelle, a sulky expression on her face, was whispering something to Trixie, at which they both sniggered. “Latex, innit?” added Rochelle, loud enough for everyone to hear. Mélisande ignored them. Her four friends, instead of sharing in the excitement of her present, were now staring delightedly at Bobby, and exchanging excited whispers. Bobby turned a deeper shade of scarlet and shifted from one foot to the other, clinging to the hem of his little skirt. Mélisande had reached her new breeches.
“Bobby! You’re a genius! I was only saying to mum yesterday I should get some cool black jods! Thank you! And what’s this…? Oh my god!”
“I hope you like them…”
“They’re…beautiful! Mum! Look at these!”
“Gosh, darling. You’re going to be the belle of the show in those…”
“Thank you – thank you!” She threw her arms round Bobby, nearly knocking him over. “I’m gonna have to try them on right now!”
Her four friends were exchanging astonished looks, like four women outraged at a friend’s behaviour. Nicole had seen those expressions many times before – sheer undisguised jealousy.
“Darling… Not right this minute, please. After lunch. The food’s ready, and everyone’s hungry. Yes?”
“Okay, mum. But that is my bestest present, Bobby. You’re so clever…”
86
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 12:09:40 PM »
Chapter 170.
As they approached the open door of the living-room, they could see the guests were already gathered around Mélisande, and there were presents and wrapping-paper on the table. Charlotte and Amelia were there, with their mothers, along with two other girls of a similar age, one a little younger, and one of about Bobby’s age or a little older, who was talking to Clarissa. Bobby stopped dead.
“Why do they have to be here? And who’s that older girl?”
“They?”
“Charlotte and Amelia’s mothers.”
“Oh, they won’t be staying. They’re just dropping the girls off.”
“Can we wait till they’ve gone?”
“Bobby, don’t be shy…”
“No, I’m serious. Please. They tricked me before into posing for them, and then made fun of me.” His cheeks were burning at the recollection. “I bet they’ve showed those pictures to all their friends – and goodness knows who else…The girls are okay, but those b…”
“Bobby! Shh!” She sighed. “All right. Go into that bedroom and wait. I’ll see if I can get rid of them.”
“Thanks, aunt.”
Nicole marched into the room.
“Hello girls. Oh – opening presents already, I see.”
The ladies turned. Clarissa stepped forward. “Ladies – meet my best friend…” - she gave Nicole a surreptitious wink – “my best friend and Bobby’s aunt, Nicole. Nicole – this is Bethany…Natasha - Amelia and Charlotte’s mums - and this here” – she placed a hand on the older girl’s shoulder – “this is Michaela – Miki for short.”
Helloes were said. Nicole had quickly got the measure of the two mothers – all faux leather and gold-coloured plastic chains.
“So we have Amelia and Charlotte, and this is Trixie and Rochelle. This little one is Harriett. Rochelle, Harriett and Miki are sisters. Harriett got so upset that Rochelle was going to Mélisande’s party and she couldn’t go that eventually her mum gave in, and Miki volunteered to keep an eye on her.”
Unseen by the others, Clarissa made a face which signified what she thought of Rochelle’s mother. Nicole understood perfectly.
“Lovely to meet you all.”
Bethany was immediately peering behind her at the door.
“Is, er, Bobby here…?”
“Oh, he’ll be along shortly.”
“What’s he wearing today?” She began to get animated. “You know the last time we were here…”
“He put on his boot boy uniform for us…” put in Natasha, excitedly. “We were wondering…”
“Boot boy uniform…?” said Miki, puzzled. “What’s that?”
Immediately both Bethany and Natasha were scrolling through their phone, and pushing them in front of Miki’s face. Miki peered, gasped, and a huge smile spread over her face.
“Cute!”
Nicole now understood exactly why Bobby didn’t want to appear in front of these two. She needed to get rid of them.
“You know, Bobby’s quite shy about his costumes. I think, ladies, if you don’t mind…”
Seeing they couldn’t take a hint, she continued. “It would be better if you left now, so he can relax a bit? Don’t you agree, Clarissa?”
“Absolutely, Nicole. Sorry to chuck you out, ladies… But you understand?”
The two women looked genuinely disappointed. But they could hardly protest. Bethany bent down and whispered something in her daughter’s ear, which elicited an eager nod. No doubt a request for a few snaps. Then they left, slowly and reluctantly, looking about them in the corridor to see if they could snatch a glimpse of their idol.
As they approached the open door of the living-room, they could see the guests were already gathered around Mélisande, and there were presents and wrapping-paper on the table. Charlotte and Amelia were there, with their mothers, along with two other girls of a similar age, one a little younger, and one of about Bobby’s age or a little older, who was talking to Clarissa. Bobby stopped dead.
“Why do they have to be here? And who’s that older girl?”
“They?”
“Charlotte and Amelia’s mothers.”
“Oh, they won’t be staying. They’re just dropping the girls off.”
“Can we wait till they’ve gone?”
“Bobby, don’t be shy…”
“No, I’m serious. Please. They tricked me before into posing for them, and then made fun of me.” His cheeks were burning at the recollection. “I bet they’ve showed those pictures to all their friends – and goodness knows who else…The girls are okay, but those b…”
“Bobby! Shh!” She sighed. “All right. Go into that bedroom and wait. I’ll see if I can get rid of them.”
“Thanks, aunt.”
Nicole marched into the room.
“Hello girls. Oh – opening presents already, I see.”
The ladies turned. Clarissa stepped forward. “Ladies – meet my best friend…” - she gave Nicole a surreptitious wink – “my best friend and Bobby’s aunt, Nicole. Nicole – this is Bethany…Natasha - Amelia and Charlotte’s mums - and this here” – she placed a hand on the older girl’s shoulder – “this is Michaela – Miki for short.”
Helloes were said. Nicole had quickly got the measure of the two mothers – all faux leather and gold-coloured plastic chains.
“So we have Amelia and Charlotte, and this is Trixie and Rochelle. This little one is Harriett. Rochelle, Harriett and Miki are sisters. Harriett got so upset that Rochelle was going to Mélisande’s party and she couldn’t go that eventually her mum gave in, and Miki volunteered to keep an eye on her.”
Unseen by the others, Clarissa made a face which signified what she thought of Rochelle’s mother. Nicole understood perfectly.
“Lovely to meet you all.”
Bethany was immediately peering behind her at the door.
“Is, er, Bobby here…?”
“Oh, he’ll be along shortly.”
“What’s he wearing today?” She began to get animated. “You know the last time we were here…”
“He put on his boot boy uniform for us…” put in Natasha, excitedly. “We were wondering…”
“Boot boy uniform…?” said Miki, puzzled. “What’s that?”
Immediately both Bethany and Natasha were scrolling through their phone, and pushing them in front of Miki’s face. Miki peered, gasped, and a huge smile spread over her face.
“Cute!”
Nicole now understood exactly why Bobby didn’t want to appear in front of these two. She needed to get rid of them.
“You know, Bobby’s quite shy about his costumes. I think, ladies, if you don’t mind…”
Seeing they couldn’t take a hint, she continued. “It would be better if you left now, so he can relax a bit? Don’t you agree, Clarissa?”
“Absolutely, Nicole. Sorry to chuck you out, ladies… But you understand?”
The two women looked genuinely disappointed. But they could hardly protest. Bethany bent down and whispered something in her daughter’s ear, which elicited an eager nod. No doubt a request for a few snaps. Then they left, slowly and reluctantly, looking about them in the corridor to see if they could snatch a glimpse of their idol.
87
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 12:04:44 PM »
Chapter 169.
Nicole sat him down in front of the dressing table in the spare room and got to work on his makeup. It was a subtle and easy task – bright pink lip-gloss, a little pink eye-shadow, mascara, a touch of blusher, highlighting a few freckles… It was the work of ten minutes.
“Can I see this dance costume now, auntie?”
“It’s right here. Take everything off….everything, Bobby… Thank you. No, turn your back, please. Pop your feet into the legs… Yes. And your arms…. Good boy… Now…”
“It’s quite snug…and the legs are very short…”
“Keep still. Let me zip it up.”
Closing the zip elicited a cry of dismay.
“Auntie! It’s like…skin-tight!”
Nicole ignored his protests.
“Oh, listen… I think that guests arriving. We’d better hurry.”
“No! I didn’t agree to wear this! You never gave me a chance…”
“Shh! Turn around and give me your hands. Right. You have matching mitts, see? This one first. Make a fist. That’s it. Buckle up. Pop on the little padlock. Good. Now the other…”
“Auntie! It’s not fair. I won’t…”
“There. Mitts on. Now your pretty collar… Keep still! Next, the headband… And I think a butterfly hairclip…or maybe one either side. Yes, that looks cute. Now, sit down so I can get your socks on…”
“Aunt! You’re not listening! Please…”
“Too late now, my sweet. You’re nearly done. What are you doing? Please don’t do that. Especially in front of the guests. Why do you think I put you in mitts?”
“But it’s just as bad as my boot boy pants! Worse! What are you doing now?”
“I’m gluing the tops of your socks so they can’t slip down. Stand up a minute. See? Perfectly level. Now on with your trainers… Aren’t they pretty?”
“Give me the skirt, then…”
“Hmm. I don’t know. No, I think you look nicer without it. It’ll spoil the line of the unitard.”
“The what…?”
“Oh yes. If anyone asks you, it’s a superfine latex dance hotpants unitard. Can you remember that?”
“A…”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard! For a Bobby Dazzler! Remember that. Someone’s bound to ask. Go on – say it.”
“No…”
“Say it – or you’re not getting your skirt.”
Bobby sighed. “Tell me again.”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard.”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard,” he repeated, with a curl of the lip.
“Good boy. Okay.” She held out his skirt for him to step into. “There we go. Now pick up Mellie’s box and let’s go…”
He sighed.
“Come on.” She took him by the wrist and pulled him towards the door…
Nicole sat him down in front of the dressing table in the spare room and got to work on his makeup. It was a subtle and easy task – bright pink lip-gloss, a little pink eye-shadow, mascara, a touch of blusher, highlighting a few freckles… It was the work of ten minutes.
“Can I see this dance costume now, auntie?”
“It’s right here. Take everything off….everything, Bobby… Thank you. No, turn your back, please. Pop your feet into the legs… Yes. And your arms…. Good boy… Now…”
“It’s quite snug…and the legs are very short…”
“Keep still. Let me zip it up.”
Closing the zip elicited a cry of dismay.
“Auntie! It’s like…skin-tight!”
Nicole ignored his protests.
“Oh, listen… I think that guests arriving. We’d better hurry.”
“No! I didn’t agree to wear this! You never gave me a chance…”
“Shh! Turn around and give me your hands. Right. You have matching mitts, see? This one first. Make a fist. That’s it. Buckle up. Pop on the little padlock. Good. Now the other…”
“Auntie! It’s not fair. I won’t…”
“There. Mitts on. Now your pretty collar… Keep still! Next, the headband… And I think a butterfly hairclip…or maybe one either side. Yes, that looks cute. Now, sit down so I can get your socks on…”
“Aunt! You’re not listening! Please…”
“Too late now, my sweet. You’re nearly done. What are you doing? Please don’t do that. Especially in front of the guests. Why do you think I put you in mitts?”
“But it’s just as bad as my boot boy pants! Worse! What are you doing now?”
“I’m gluing the tops of your socks so they can’t slip down. Stand up a minute. See? Perfectly level. Now on with your trainers… Aren’t they pretty?”
“Give me the skirt, then…”
“Hmm. I don’t know. No, I think you look nicer without it. It’ll spoil the line of the unitard.”
“The what…?”
“Oh yes. If anyone asks you, it’s a superfine latex dance hotpants unitard. Can you remember that?”
“A…”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard! For a Bobby Dazzler! Remember that. Someone’s bound to ask. Go on – say it.”
“No…”
“Say it – or you’re not getting your skirt.”
Bobby sighed. “Tell me again.”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard.”
“A superfine latex dance hotpants unitard,” he repeated, with a curl of the lip.
“Good boy. Okay.” She held out his skirt for him to step into. “There we go. Now pick up Mellie’s box and let’s go…”
He sighed.
“Come on.” She took him by the wrist and pulled him towards the door…
88
Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Second Floor (#5)
« Last post by petticoated on May 16, 2025, 12:03:42 PM »
The ambiance of the restaurant's
small bar setting of maybe twelve barstools and four tables for four was enhanced by the soft lighting. While the tables were tastefully spaced from one another to allow for quiet conversations, total privacy was not possible, save for the occasional quiet whispering that occasionally occurred at a particular table. And although this beautiful woman and her familiar bartender acquaintance were enjoying the soccer match on this late Wednesday evening, this bar area was all about intimacy. It was anything but a sports bar. Just as Leighton's grilled salmon salad was delivered to his table by his server, this mystery woman was returning from the front of the restaurant. Her slightly flared skirt had Leighton wondering what might be contributing to that enhanced vision of her dress's Femininity. He thought he might have heard a slight rustling sound as she passed his table. He couldn't swear to it and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. As her 5-inch heels clacked femininely on the hardwood floor, he also noticed that she was carrying a small white paper gift bag with pink lettering. It was a dainty bag and it had pale pink tissue-like wrapping paper decoratively peeking out of the top. No doubt a gift for someone? Carefully placing the bag on the oak bar counter beside her purse and her phone, she asked the bartender for a couple of menus. Slowly rising out of her barstool in her red silk minidress, she whisked her hand to check her short skirt, took her phone, the two menus, and her purse to one of the three remaining tables, walked back to retrieve the feminine gift bag, and returned to the table. Leighton was mesmerized. He did his best not to stare at her...and her ultrafeminine mannerisms. Slowly lowering herself into her chair, Leighton watched her place her right hand under her short satin skirt to prevent it from wrinkling as she sat down. And then it happened. As she slowly crossed her toned and tanned long legs, from under her dress a glimpse of red tulle appeared. Two layers, maybe three, Leighton surmised. Feminine tulle. Now he knew what made this beautiful woman's red silk minidress's skirt flare. And just as quickky, the tulle pettilayers were gone as she adjusted her short skirt to conceal them. Only She knew now. But Leighton knew her secret, too. And then...
small bar setting of maybe twelve barstools and four tables for four was enhanced by the soft lighting. While the tables were tastefully spaced from one another to allow for quiet conversations, total privacy was not possible, save for the occasional quiet whispering that occasionally occurred at a particular table. And although this beautiful woman and her familiar bartender acquaintance were enjoying the soccer match on this late Wednesday evening, this bar area was all about intimacy. It was anything but a sports bar. Just as Leighton's grilled salmon salad was delivered to his table by his server, this mystery woman was returning from the front of the restaurant. Her slightly flared skirt had Leighton wondering what might be contributing to that enhanced vision of her dress's Femininity. He thought he might have heard a slight rustling sound as she passed his table. He couldn't swear to it and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. As her 5-inch heels clacked femininely on the hardwood floor, he also noticed that she was carrying a small white paper gift bag with pink lettering. It was a dainty bag and it had pale pink tissue-like wrapping paper decoratively peeking out of the top. No doubt a gift for someone? Carefully placing the bag on the oak bar counter beside her purse and her phone, she asked the bartender for a couple of menus. Slowly rising out of her barstool in her red silk minidress, she whisked her hand to check her short skirt, took her phone, the two menus, and her purse to one of the three remaining tables, walked back to retrieve the feminine gift bag, and returned to the table. Leighton was mesmerized. He did his best not to stare at her...and her ultrafeminine mannerisms. Slowly lowering herself into her chair, Leighton watched her place her right hand under her short satin skirt to prevent it from wrinkling as she sat down. And then it happened. As she slowly crossed her toned and tanned long legs, from under her dress a glimpse of red tulle appeared. Two layers, maybe three, Leighton surmised. Feminine tulle. Now he knew what made this beautiful woman's red silk minidress's skirt flare. And just as quickky, the tulle pettilayers were gone as she adjusted her short skirt to conceal them. Only She knew now. But Leighton knew her secret, too. And then...
89
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 11:59:43 AM »
Chapter 168.
Saturday October 4th. Mélisande’s birthday. Great excitement in the house – and at Nicole’s, where Bobby had found the perfect receptacle for Mélisande’s present – a nice shiny box.
“Aunt? Do you need this box? It would be perfect for Mellie’s stuff.”
“Help yourself. I don’t have any more use for it.” She smiled, and glanced at the hold-all on the floor by the front door.
“Thanks!”
Bobby made a bed of tissue at the bottom, laid the boots on top, top to toe, then more tissue, then the breeches, neatly folded, more tissue, in the centre of which he made a hollow, where he placed the stock pin in its presentation box. Then a final sheet of tissue, and the lid. He tied the whole thing up with a red ribbon, with a bow in the centre of the lid, and fetched a little gift card he had bought, with a picture of a girl on a horse on the front. He got a pen, opened it and began to write: “To Mélisande… Happy Birthday!” He thought fleetingly of writing “Love, Bobby” – but he knew what the reaction of her friends would be to that, so instead he wrote plain “Bobby”. Her patted the box with satisfaction. He was sure she would be happy with his present.
“That looks great, Bobby. Super job!”
“I hope she likes her stuff…”
“Are you kidding? Well, we might as well go. It won’t matter if we’re a little early.”
“What am I going to wear, aunt? Is it that dress? I feel a bit nervous about appearing in front of all her friends as a girl…”
“Don’t be. I’m going to do your makeup before you put in an appearance. You don’t have to wear the dress if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not wearing that boot boy outfit! No way!”
“Well I do have something else… Let’s decide once we’re there.!”
“Okay… I guess…”
Mélisande was already bouncing with excitement when they arrived. She grabbed Bobby by the hand and led him into the living room to show him her presents.
“Mummy’s bought me a fantastic new phone. See? Auntie Nicole sent me tickets to this amazing Japanese show! “Thank you so much, auntie! I want you to come with me, Bobby.”
“Oh…I’d love to. Thanks. Aunt? Should I give Mellie my present now?”
“Why don’t you wait till the others arrive, dear? Then everyone can see what everyone else is giving.”
“Okay…”
“In any case, you need to change.”
Mélisande squealed. “Yes! You’ve got to put on you dress and makeup! I can’t wait to see you as a girl! I bet you’ll be perfect! Hurry up and get changed! Auntie? Can you show me the dress again?”
Nicole smiled. “Okay.” She opened her bag and rummaged for a few seconds, then pulled out the pink dress and held it up. Bobby stared.
“Hey! It wasn’t that short! What’s happened?”
“Well, dear, it wouldn’t have shown off your bloomers if we’d left it as it was. And your bloomers are so pretty…”
“You tried to trick me. Well I’m not wearing it. No, and not my boot boy outfit either. So there!”
“Well the only other thing I’ve brought is a dance costume.”
Mélisande frowned. “No, auntie! He should be made to wear his dress!”
“I won’t!”
Nicole pretended to be disappointed. “Well the dance costume’s rather conservative – shorts and a skirt. It won’t be much fun for the others…”
“I don’t care. I’m not here to entertain Mellie’s friends, anyway. I’ll wear that. Fine.”
“Not fair!” complained Mélisande.
“I’ll get him ready,” said Nicole, picking up her bag and ushering Bobby out of the room. But at the door she turned, and gave Mélisande a broad wink. Mélisande looked puzzled.
“What’s going on, mummy?”
“Oh, knowing Nicole I don’t think you or your friends will be disappointed,” she smiled.
Saturday October 4th. Mélisande’s birthday. Great excitement in the house – and at Nicole’s, where Bobby had found the perfect receptacle for Mélisande’s present – a nice shiny box.
“Aunt? Do you need this box? It would be perfect for Mellie’s stuff.”
“Help yourself. I don’t have any more use for it.” She smiled, and glanced at the hold-all on the floor by the front door.
“Thanks!”
Bobby made a bed of tissue at the bottom, laid the boots on top, top to toe, then more tissue, then the breeches, neatly folded, more tissue, in the centre of which he made a hollow, where he placed the stock pin in its presentation box. Then a final sheet of tissue, and the lid. He tied the whole thing up with a red ribbon, with a bow in the centre of the lid, and fetched a little gift card he had bought, with a picture of a girl on a horse on the front. He got a pen, opened it and began to write: “To Mélisande… Happy Birthday!” He thought fleetingly of writing “Love, Bobby” – but he knew what the reaction of her friends would be to that, so instead he wrote plain “Bobby”. Her patted the box with satisfaction. He was sure she would be happy with his present.
“That looks great, Bobby. Super job!”
“I hope she likes her stuff…”
“Are you kidding? Well, we might as well go. It won’t matter if we’re a little early.”
“What am I going to wear, aunt? Is it that dress? I feel a bit nervous about appearing in front of all her friends as a girl…”
“Don’t be. I’m going to do your makeup before you put in an appearance. You don’t have to wear the dress if you don’t want to.”
“I’m not wearing that boot boy outfit! No way!”
“Well I do have something else… Let’s decide once we’re there.!”
“Okay… I guess…”
Mélisande was already bouncing with excitement when they arrived. She grabbed Bobby by the hand and led him into the living room to show him her presents.
“Mummy’s bought me a fantastic new phone. See? Auntie Nicole sent me tickets to this amazing Japanese show! “Thank you so much, auntie! I want you to come with me, Bobby.”
“Oh…I’d love to. Thanks. Aunt? Should I give Mellie my present now?”
“Why don’t you wait till the others arrive, dear? Then everyone can see what everyone else is giving.”
“Okay…”
“In any case, you need to change.”
Mélisande squealed. “Yes! You’ve got to put on you dress and makeup! I can’t wait to see you as a girl! I bet you’ll be perfect! Hurry up and get changed! Auntie? Can you show me the dress again?”
Nicole smiled. “Okay.” She opened her bag and rummaged for a few seconds, then pulled out the pink dress and held it up. Bobby stared.
“Hey! It wasn’t that short! What’s happened?”
“Well, dear, it wouldn’t have shown off your bloomers if we’d left it as it was. And your bloomers are so pretty…”
“You tried to trick me. Well I’m not wearing it. No, and not my boot boy outfit either. So there!”
“Well the only other thing I’ve brought is a dance costume.”
Mélisande frowned. “No, auntie! He should be made to wear his dress!”
“I won’t!”
Nicole pretended to be disappointed. “Well the dance costume’s rather conservative – shorts and a skirt. It won’t be much fun for the others…”
“I don’t care. I’m not here to entertain Mellie’s friends, anyway. I’ll wear that. Fine.”
“Not fair!” complained Mélisande.
“I’ll get him ready,” said Nicole, picking up her bag and ushering Bobby out of the room. But at the door she turned, and gave Mélisande a broad wink. Mélisande looked puzzled.
“What’s going on, mummy?”
“Oh, knowing Nicole I don’t think you or your friends will be disappointed,” she smiled.
90
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on May 16, 2025, 11:55:20 AM »
Chapter 167.
“Oh my god, Nicole… I’m sorry… I just can’t take it…”
“Can’t take it? What, a few strokes of my dressage whip? I haven’t even started yet, you bad girl. You’re getting the full works today. Lusting after my nephew like that…”
It was Wednesday. Clarissa was strapped face down on Nicole modified vaulting horse, her high heels on the floor at one end, her ankles tethered to a steel lug a foot off the ground, her hands cuffed to steel rails attached to its sides. Her mini-skirt – she had been ordered to wear a mini-skirt by Nicole as a sort of penance, and had already suffered a degree of humiliation as a result just travelling to the house – was pinned up, her panties around her knees, her pale buttocks already criss-crossed with red lines.
“No, not that… I can take that…I deserve it. I mean the milking. I don’t have a man, remember, but I’m supposed to participate in his relief every morning? It’s driving me crazy, Nicole. I can’t sleep properly thinking about it… If I could at least…you know…”
Crack!
“Owww!”
“At least what? What?”
“Nothing…”
Clarissa sobbed. Nicole smiled.
“All you need girl, is a good seeing to….”
“Yeah, but… Nicole, you know it… When you get to our age…”
“Speak for yourself, bitch…”
“No, but seriously… I don’t even want a one-nighter. Men of our age…so boring… And weird as fuc-k, most of them. It’s cool when you’re young. Cool and light. You love, have sex, get dumped, cry, move on. Fine. But now… They either think they’re god’s gift, and you’re desperate, or they’re clingy as fuc-k, and you can’t get rid of them. They need to…. What are you doing?”
Nicole had put on a pair of elbow-length latex gloves. Now she was strapping something to her abdomen. Something rubbery that wagged like a dog’s tail as she moved. Clarissa craned round.
“No. You can’t. Nicole, I didn’t say…. Oh, shit…”
Nicole had slid a finger into Clarissa’s moist pussy.
“Relax, darling. I’m gonna make you feel better, For a day or two, at least.”
In went another finger. Clarissa gasped and began to squirm. But she was quite helpless, and Nicole was an expert. In five minutes her hand had disappeared inside, and her fingers were whipping Clarissa’s juices into a froth. Clarissa was making a lot of noise, which is just what Nicole liked.
“You asked me to punish you, Ms Burlington,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Well this is your punishment.” She worked her hand out, and the strap-on slid in easily. Holding onto the strap that secured Clarissa’s waist with both hands, (except on the occasions when she needed to service Clarissa’s clitoris), she proceeded to give her friend the most thorough “seeing to” she had ever had in her life.
Afterwards, over a glass of wine, they chatted about this and that, joked and laughed, and discussed the upcoming Pitt’s Wood show. Every now and then Clarissa would look at her friend with an unwonted expression of wonder. How was it that she had never seen what should have been, knowing Nicole’s profession, obvious? And what was this strange new feeling of affection for her friend, beyond anything she had experienced before? She frowned. “Have I been barking up the wrong tree all these years?” she mused.
“Oh my god, Nicole… I’m sorry… I just can’t take it…”
“Can’t take it? What, a few strokes of my dressage whip? I haven’t even started yet, you bad girl. You’re getting the full works today. Lusting after my nephew like that…”
It was Wednesday. Clarissa was strapped face down on Nicole modified vaulting horse, her high heels on the floor at one end, her ankles tethered to a steel lug a foot off the ground, her hands cuffed to steel rails attached to its sides. Her mini-skirt – she had been ordered to wear a mini-skirt by Nicole as a sort of penance, and had already suffered a degree of humiliation as a result just travelling to the house – was pinned up, her panties around her knees, her pale buttocks already criss-crossed with red lines.
“No, not that… I can take that…I deserve it. I mean the milking. I don’t have a man, remember, but I’m supposed to participate in his relief every morning? It’s driving me crazy, Nicole. I can’t sleep properly thinking about it… If I could at least…you know…”
Crack!
“Owww!”
“At least what? What?”
“Nothing…”
Clarissa sobbed. Nicole smiled.
“All you need girl, is a good seeing to….”
“Yeah, but… Nicole, you know it… When you get to our age…”
“Speak for yourself, bitch…”
“No, but seriously… I don’t even want a one-nighter. Men of our age…so boring… And weird as fuc-k, most of them. It’s cool when you’re young. Cool and light. You love, have sex, get dumped, cry, move on. Fine. But now… They either think they’re god’s gift, and you’re desperate, or they’re clingy as fuc-k, and you can’t get rid of them. They need to…. What are you doing?”
Nicole had put on a pair of elbow-length latex gloves. Now she was strapping something to her abdomen. Something rubbery that wagged like a dog’s tail as she moved. Clarissa craned round.
“No. You can’t. Nicole, I didn’t say…. Oh, shit…”
Nicole had slid a finger into Clarissa’s moist pussy.
“Relax, darling. I’m gonna make you feel better, For a day or two, at least.”
In went another finger. Clarissa gasped and began to squirm. But she was quite helpless, and Nicole was an expert. In five minutes her hand had disappeared inside, and her fingers were whipping Clarissa’s juices into a froth. Clarissa was making a lot of noise, which is just what Nicole liked.
“You asked me to punish you, Ms Burlington,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Well this is your punishment.” She worked her hand out, and the strap-on slid in easily. Holding onto the strap that secured Clarissa’s waist with both hands, (except on the occasions when she needed to service Clarissa’s clitoris), she proceeded to give her friend the most thorough “seeing to” she had ever had in her life.
Afterwards, over a glass of wine, they chatted about this and that, joked and laughed, and discussed the upcoming Pitt’s Wood show. Every now and then Clarissa would look at her friend with an unwonted expression of wonder. How was it that she had never seen what should have been, knowing Nicole’s profession, obvious? And what was this strange new feeling of affection for her friend, beyond anything she had experienced before? She frowned. “Have I been barking up the wrong tree all these years?” she mused.
The more you give, the more I can give back.
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