His Aunt Nicole

[babycakes]

The introduction of Jenny Ellis as Tim's romantic interest is perfect. About time Tim has someone who is concerned about his welfare and likes him for himself. Hope she continues to be a worthy protector. Wonder if she'll be able to manage the ESDS crowd as well as the staff at Pitt's Wood?

[Simonssister]

Chapter 353.

There was something about the way the staff of ESDS talked about Connie Brookshaw that made him nervous.  When her name was mentioned, sometimes conversations stopped abruptly, or meaningful looks were exchanged.  It didn’t inspire confidence.  Nevertheless he was determined to put on a brave face.  Doreen helped him dress, and he noticed she fussed and frowned more than usual - even more than when she was preparing him for the photo-shoot.  While she was brushing his hair, more vigorously than usual, she offered an explanation.
“Remember, Tim, Mrs Brookshaw’s an absolute stickler for neatness and cleanliness.  She doesn’t like even a hair out of place.  You’re a very smart boy – in both senses – so I’m sure you’ll give her no cause for complaint.  But be careful, all right?”
“Yes, Miss Doreen…  Thanks…  I mean, what’s she like…sort of in general…?”
“I suppose…she can be a bit fussy.  Just keep your discipline training in mind, okay?  Discipline, obedience, politeness.  That’s the key…”

He asked Serena the same question as she drove him to her house.  And got basically the same reply.  Plus another piece of advice.
“Listen, Tim.  She hates any sort of arrogance.  Never be tempted to show off.  Be meek and modest.  She has no children of her own.  Her only experience with kids is with Robyn, her sister’s daughter.  As to boys, even though you’re grown up, she will want you to behave as if you’re about ten.  Remember that.  If you’re sweet and cute enough she may cut you a bit of slack.  Can you do that?  Act like a kid?  You could even lisp a bit if you wanted.”
“I can do it, I guess.  I won’t enjoy it…”
“Well, that’s my advice.  I’ll be honest.  We’ve learnt by experience that actually she doesn’t like boys much.  That’s the truth.  Don’t be misled by her fawning and flattery.  If she can find an excuse to punish you, she will.  Just be warned.”
“Now I’m not sure I want to go…”
“You have no choice, young man.  As far as the directors are concerned, she’s a valued client.  She pays well, and in recognition of your services you’ll be getting a twenty percent cut of the fee.  Did you know that?”
“No!  Really?  That’s big money…”
“You’re provisionally booked in for up to two weeks.  So if you want to earn that, I suggest you grit your teeth and do what’s necessary.”

Tim was silent.  If he could earn that sort of money, he could take Jenny on holiday…  Or buy a motorbike and drive them both around…  He was missing her already.  Never mind, as soon as he had a moment he’d text her.
“And another thing,” Serena was saying, “she’ll confiscate your phone…”
“What?  No, she can’t…”
“That’s what she does.  We’re nearly there…”
“Miss.  Listen.  Please.  You must help me.  Can you please, please contact Jenny and explain why I can’t call her…  Otherwise….”
“Yes, I understand.  I had been thinking about that.  I’ll do something.  But I’ll have to come up with an excuse.  I can’t really tell her the truth, can I?”
The house was in the middle of nowhere.  An isolated converted farmhouse, with outbuildings.  Tim realised that once inside, escape would be impossible.  Serena stopped in the roadway outside the main gate.  It was just an overgrown track.
“I can say…  Why don’t I tell her the person you’re working for is engaged in developing something…  Say a commercially secret start-up or project or something…  And you’ve signed a non-disclosure agreement, and aren’t allowed to communicate with anyone outside…”
“Wow!  How did you think of that…?  You sound like some secret agent or something…”
“Oh, believe me, Tim, working for my mum has involved coming up with all sorts of excuses, evasions, and lies.  I’m an expert.  Now look, we’d better drive in.  Just leave it with me.  I promise I’ll sort it.  In fact, I’ll probably go see her and Grace.  I took a fancy to Grace…”
“Yeah.  She’s nice.  Thank you so much, miss…”
“No probs, as you’d say.  Here we are,  I’ll get your case.  Put on your cap and go knock at the door…  Oh, there she is…”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 354.

A woman in a green dress had opened the front door.  Tim put on his cap and walked up the path.  Half way up he stopped dead.  The woman from the photo-shoot!  He recovered himself and walked on. 
“Mrs Brookshaw?”  She nodded.  “Good morning.  I’m Tim.  At your service, madam.”
“How smart you look!  That’s one of your pageboy outfits, of course.  Sadly I didn’t get to see any of those on Thursday.  But it’s so cute on you!  Come here and let me look at those pretty hotpants.”
This was one time Tim had no intention of correcting her.  He presented himself for examination.  She smoothed his flank and fussed with the frills.
“You must love wearing such beautiful outfits.  I could see how happy you were in dresses.  But these sweet little latex pants…  They must feel so nice against your skin…”
“Yes, madam…”  He gritted his teeth.  “I like these better than anything…”
“I’m glad.  I can’t wait to show you off to my friends.  Serena, darling…  Hi.”
“Good morning, Mrs Brookshaw.  I hope you’re well?”
“Very well, thank you.  Especially now that you’ve delivered my special package.”  She bestowed a voracious smile on Tim.  “Oh, and that’s his case.”
“Yes, I hope you’ll find everything you need.  But you can always call if there’s anything else…”
“Thank you.  So kind.  Well, I can’t wait to find out more about my new pageboy.  Come in, Tim.  Let me show you around.  Serena dear, would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Oh, that’s very kind, Mrs Brookshaw, but I have a lot to do today…”
Mrs Brookshaw didn’t seem to mind.  “Well, have a swift trip back.  Tim, in you go…”

The interior was surprisingly spare and modern.  Mrs Brookshaw ushered him along a short corridor and into the living room, where she made him stand for another appraisal. 
“Welcome to Woodbine Cottage, Tim…”
Some cottage, thought Tim.
“Now would you like a drink?  Or something to eat?  You’re a fine big boy, aren’t you?  Don’t worry, you’ll never starve here!”  She laughed.  “Not unless you’re very badly behaved and I have to shut you up in one of the outhouses!”
There was something in her tone that made Tim look at her face.  And when he did so there was something in her expression that was not reassuring.
He took a drink of water.
“Now, first things first.  Let me show you around.”

The house had been modernised throughout.  Upstairs there were multiple rooms, including no less than six bedrooms.
“I have friends to stay quite often.  It’s perfect for entertaining.  We’re quite isolated here…”
She showed him his own room, at one end of the house; small but pretty, with its own bathroom, the window overlooking the back garden, four other farm buildings, and countryside as far as the eye could see. 
“What are the other buildings, miss?”
“That long one is a stable block.  Our neighbour’s girl keeps her horse there, and occasionally we have another in livery.  The nearest one is the garage.  The others you needn’t bother about…”
Downstairs there was the living room, a dining room, two kitchens, a bathroom, a laundry room, and various box rooms.  He was about to ask about his duties, when Mrs Brookshaw became brusque.
“Right.  Take your case upstairs, unpack your clothes and things – there’s plenty of drawer and cupboard space – and then come down and you can wash up the glasses in the kitchen.  We had some drinks last night.  I hope your brought your rubber gloves?”
“In my belt-purse, miss.”
He unzipped it to show her.
“Is that a phone?  Didn’t they tell you you’re not allowed phones here?  Give it to me at once.”
“Yes, miss.”  He handed it over.
“Right.  Get on, then.  When you’ve done that you can make me a coffee.  Filter.  Black.  Got it?”
“Yes, miss.”

Eager to give a good impression, he dumped his clothes on the bed and hurried downstairs.  “I can put all that stuff away later,” he thought.  He went straight to the kitchen, put the kettle on for coffee, and put on his yellow latex gloves.  He was unaware of his mistress peeping at him through the open door.  He washed the few wine glasses on the counter, placing them upside down on the drying rack.  He found the coffee, the cone and the filters, and made the coffee, which he carried out and placed on the coffee-table next to Mrs Brookshaw.  Then he returned to wipe the counter.  That was when he saw the bottle of chocolate sauce…

[Simonssister]

Chapter 355.

Tim had a weakness for chocolate sauce.  He was about to put the bottle away in the cupboard when that weakness got the better of him.  With a sideways glance at the kitchen door, he flipped open the cap, and had a quick suc-k at the nozzle.  Yum!  And his mistress was none the wiser.  He put it back on the counter and tried to close the cap.  It stuck.  He daren’t hammer it closed, so he pressed down as hard as he could.  In an instant, with a loud smack, the bottom slipped sideways on the polished counter, and chocolate sauce spurted out all over his clothes!
“Shit!”
Mrs Brookshaw was on the spot in a second.
“Oh, what have you done?  You naughty boy!”
Apart from the sauce around his mouth, it was on the front of his shirt, all over his shorts and on his left glove.  Mrs Brookshaw grabbed a cloth, dampened it with warm water, and first attended to his gloves, then the front of his shorts, which, because of the stickiness of the sauce, needed vigorous and repeated efforts, (and involved her in rubbing with her right hand whilst supporting his rear with her left), and lastly his face.  Finally she ordered him to take off his shirt.
“Lucky for you I’m just about to do a wash,” she tutted.  “I’ll put this in and maybe I can get it washed and dried before my friends arrive after lunch.  I suppose I’d better find you something else to wear for the time being.  Goodness, what a fuss.  I could send you back right this minute if I didn’t have plans…”

She left him standing in the living room, trembling with anxiety.  However, in wiping his shorts, Miss Brookshaw had inadvertently given his poor inoffensive boyhood quite a through kneading, to which it had responded with its customary enthusiasm.  He looked down with trepidation.  If she saw that, after the faux pas he had just committed, goodness knows what she would say.  But she was already coming back down the stairs.  Desperately, he took it in hand – which only made things worse – and turned towards the window.  She strode into the room.
“This is all I could find…”  She held up a woman’s pink top, obviously too small for him.  “It’ll have to do.  Come here!  What are you doing…”
She put her hand on his shoulder and turned him to face her.
“What in heaven’s name…?  What are you doing, boy?  How dare you…?”
He dared not let go of it.  He blushed scarlet, and looked at his feet.
“I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to.  It was when you cleaned my shorts…”
She didn’t immediately respond.  Then she reached down, took hold of his wrist, and gently removed his hand.  He kept his head lowered, not knowing what was coming.  He could see it clearly, straining at the fine, yellow latex.  It was really quite impressive.
Another silence. 
“Dear me.  I can see it now.  You’re completely untrained.  Completely…undisciplined.  Raw material.  They told me you were new, but they also said you were very promising.”  The anger had gone from her voice now.  There was almost a note of satisfaction.  “Well, I can see I’m going to have to train you myself.  Stay right where you are.”
She left the room, and returned a moment later holding a black riding whip.  Tim’s eyes widened.
“Miss…  No, please…”
“Quiet.  This is for your own good.  Turn round.  Right.  Now you can hold onto…onto that thing, with both hands.  Now, please.”
Six firm, stinging strokes was all it took.  He whimpered, but made as little noise as he could.  His erection wilted like a dying flower.
“Let me see.  There, that’s better.  Now, put this on.  Go on.  Yes, a little tight.  Stand still…”
“What are you doing, miss?”
She had produced a pink leather collar.  She strapped it around his neck and padlocked it with a tiny padlock.
“There.  That’s to remind you that while you’re in my house, you belong to me.  Don’t break my rules.  Don’t worry, it’s only temporary.   You haven’t made a good start, have you?”
Tim hung his head.  “N-no, miss…  I’m sorry…”
“Not only did you steal my chocolate sauce and make a mess in the kitchen, but I’ve just had a look in your room and I see you failed to follow my instructions to put away your clothes.  Don’t think there will be no sanctions.  You will be punished.  Rely upon it.”
“Yes, miss…”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“I’m sorry miss…”
“Right.  Go tidy your room,  Unless…”
She picked up the whip.  But he was already gone.

[Simonssister]

Chapter 356.

Tim was desperate to make amends.  He put away all his outfits and dresses – including a couple he hadn’t seen before – the came downstairs and took Mrs Brookshaw’s cup and washed and dried it, cleaned the sticky counter, and wiped the sauce bottle and put it away.
“When you’ve cleaned the kitchen you can go to the laundry room.  Take the clothes out of the washing machine and put them all in the dryer.  Fold mine neatly onto the shelves when you’re done, and then iron your shirt and bring it to me.”
“Yes, miss.”

It was nearly twelve when he reappeared before his mistress holding his clean, ironed shirt.  She held it up, and nodded approvingly.
“Hmm.  Looks like there’s one thing you can do without making mistakes.  Maybe I should train you up as my laundry maid.  All right.  You need to shower before my friends arrive.  Stand still so I can unlock your collar.”  She unlocked it and took it off.   â€śRemember that.  Any time I want to I can put that back on, attach a leash, and you’ll be my little pet.  If you’re lucky, I might even take you out for a walk around town.  Would you like that?”   She smiled mischievously.
Tim shook his head.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t.  I’ve done it before with a trainee.  Silly boy cried the whole time.”
Tim believed it.
“Right.  Now you can use the bathroom downstairs.  Put all your clothes outside.  I’m going to wash you shorts, find you some nice clean socks, and, oh, I’ve got some prettier gloves for you.  You need to look your best today.” 
“Thank you, miss.  I’m really sorry…”
“And stop apologising.  I’m still considering how I shall punish you.  I’ll discuss it with my friends later.  Apologies are not going to make any difference.  Off you go, then.  Take your time, and use plenty of that lovely rose-scented shower gel.  I want you smelling nice.  Call me when you’re done.”

She collected his clothes from outside the bathroom door.  His shoes and cap she left with his shirt in the living room.  The pink top and his socks she dumped in the laundry.  She went to his room and found clean white socks, then to another bed room and took a new pair of latex gloves from a drawer.  These had pink bows at the wrists.  She brought them downstairs, then attended to his shorts.  She went back to the laundry room, washed them in water, then in water and rubber-shine, so they’d be nice and glossy.  Once they were dry, she turned them inside out and lay them flat on the counter.  Then she took a small pink spray-can from the cupboard and sprayed the front thoroughly.  The fine spray glistened on the latex for a minute or two, then faded slowly as it dried.  She gave it a second spray, and once that had dried too she carefully turned his shorts back the right way.  She looked at the small can and smiled.  Beneath the name “Rose-Stim” was a depiction of a rose, standing erect with petals succulent and bristling.  “How appropriate,” she murmured, “even has his name on the can…”

Her phone was ringing.  She carried the shorts, gloves and socks back to the living room, and picked it up.
“Frieda…hi…  Yes, he’s here.  Just having a shower.  It’s going well…”  She laughed.  “A little accident with a bottle of chocolate sauce…yes…I’ll tell you about it later.  But listen…”  She lowered her voice.  “You won’t be disappointed.  I’ve had a preview, actually.  An opportunity presented itself and I took full advantage…  Very nice.  Couldn’t ask for more.  And you’ve seen the piccies.  Yes, he is.  But so sweet with it!  Eager to please.  Like a little kid…  Yes, I used the stuff.  It says it may take an hour or two to work…  “activated by body temperature”.  Come a bit early?  Course you can.  One-thirty’s fine.  He’ll be ready.  Okay…  See you!”

“Miss…?  I’m done…”
“Coming, darling.”  She walked to the bathroom.  Tim was hiding behind the door, naked.  Mrs Brookshaw came up close. 
“Ooh, you smell gorgeous.  Here’s your shorts.  Pop them on and come to the living room, and I’ll help you with the rest…”

Mrs Brookshaw was being so nice as she helped him into his clothes that he began to forget her earlier strictness.
“Now, Tim, you won’t need your belt purse, because you’ll be wearing you nice new gloves the whole time.  Do you like them?  They have pink bows to match your bow-tie.  Here, sit down and let me help you with your socks and shoes…”
She was being so solicitous that poor Tim actually felt guilty about his behaviour earlier, and resolved to be the best boy he could possibly be from now on…
“Miss…”  He was about to apologise again, but stopped himself just in time.
“Yes, Tim?”
“I, er…  I’m really grateful for your taking me on…  I’m going to be a good boy from now on, and I’ll wait on your friends very nicely, and do everything I’m told…”
“Oh, thank you, Tim.  That’s so sweet of you.  I think they’re going to like you, and I’m sure they’re going to love your pageboy look.  Don’t you agree?”
“Oh, I hope so!” he said, excitedly.  “Everyone  at the wedding thought it was really smart.  And my new yellow…er, hotpants are really cool.  They’re so glossy now…”
“Yes, I gave them a little shine.  Well, you have my full permission to show off a little in your outfit.  All three of my friends really appreciate fashion.  In fact, I’d like a snap of you right now, for my mantlepiece.  Come here and stand by the wall.  Turn that way a bit…now look at me over your shoulder…perfect!”

Tim felt happy and relaxed.
“Is there anything I can do, miss?  Shall I get some glasses out?
“No, Tim.  In fact, all I want is for you not to get into any more scrapes before they arrive.  So…”
She opened a drawer in a sideboard and took out something pink, and a length of silver chain.
“Come over here, please.  Stand by this wall ring.”
Tim looked at the ring, not understanding.  She knelt down, buckled and locked a pink leather cuff around his ankle, and attached it to the ring with the chain.  She stood up.
“There!  That should keep you out of mischief for an hour or so, while I go and shower.  Behave, won’t you?”
She winked, and left.  Tim could only stand there, surprised and a little confused.