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Author Topic: His Aunt Nicole  (Read 43017 times)

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Simonssister

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #154 on: December 05, 2024, 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 MĂ©lisande who triumphed.  It was difficult to think of something that could beat the previous forfeit, but after conferring for some time, MĂ©lisande 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 MĂ©lisande, 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!  MĂ©lisande darling…didn’t you once have a miniature saddle?  I bought it for you when you had your first pony.”
MĂ©lisande 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.
MĂ©lisande 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 MĂ©lisande’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 MĂ©lisande 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.

MĂ©lisande, 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 MĂ©lisande’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?”


Simonssister

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #155 on: December 05, 2024, 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 MĂ©lisande.  “In his mouth, like a doggy.  Ha ha, that’s right!”
“Mummy?  Can I have this picture in my room, like MĂ©lisande?”
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 MĂ©lisande 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.


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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #156 on: December 06, 2024, 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.”  MĂ©lisande 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?”

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #157 on: December 06, 2024, 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 MĂ©lisande.  “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 MĂ©lisande.  “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?”
MĂ©lisande just smiled, so she addressed Bobby direct.
“Bobby?  Do you have to do what Mellie tells you?”
“N-no, of course not…”   MĂ©lisande 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…”
MĂ©lisande 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 MĂ©lisande 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…”
MĂ©lisande laughed.  “No,” she said, “they probably won’t.”
“Right...  But your party...  then you were just messing around...yeah?”
“Oh, that...  Yeah...maybe...”



Simonssister

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #158 on: December 09, 2024, 02:39:54 PM »
Chapter 148.

Bobby slept in his loose box that night.  After MĂ©lisande was asleep, Clarissa took him out, got him into his pony suit, and put him down on the hay.  She had put the heater on earlier, so his stable was nice and warm.  He was sleepy.  It had been a tiring day.
“There Bobby.  Are you comfortable?  Need anything?  Your water-feeders full.”
“No, thank you, aunt.  I’m fine.  All I want to do is sleep.”
He felt safe and contained back in his pony suit, his nostrils filled with the mingled scent of fresh hay and warm latex.  He took a deep breath, and snuggled down.
“Good night, then.  I’ll be in about quarter to seven.  That should give us time.  I’ll let Mellie sleep in an extra half hour.  There’s no hurry.”
“Okay…  Good night, aunt…”

But he didn’t sleep well.  He dreamt he was dressed in a little outfit of natural latex.  He was in a forest, and far away he could see twenty odd girls working their way through the trees towards him.  He could hear their faint voices.
“He must be here somewhere…”
“We’ll get him eventually…  Just keep on looking…”
“And when we do….”
He weaved and ducked through ferns and bushes which scratched his bare legs, stopping and hiding behind trees every now and then.  Terrified, he knew he dare not let them catch him – though he wasn’t sure why.  Then all of a sudden he tripped, and the next instant he was rolling down a bank…
He woke in a terrible state of anxiety and arousal,  He had rolled off his hay bed, and was lying on the stone floor.  Clarissa was standing over him.  She had put on her latex gloves and was in the process of opening a condom packet.
“What are you doing there, Bobby?”
“Oh, auntie…what’s the time…?” he asked, blinking sleepily.
“Nearly seven.  Time to get up, sleepyhead.” 
She helped him onto his hooves and unzipped his pouch.
“Ooh, good boy!  Super!  All ready, I see…”

Nicole was up early, too.  The girls were due at nine, and Maria at ten.  The girls were due to have a brief  introduction to a dominatrix’s equipment, from small cages to cells, from handcuffs and arm binders to straightjackets, from floggers to bullwhips, and all the rest of the paraphernalia.  Just a basic review.  Finer methods of restraint, punishment and torture would come later, eventually leading to Nicole’s favourite topic of psychological manipulation and correction.  There was a lot to learn, and most of it would only be understood through practical experience.
At this early stage of their careers she wasn’t thinking of fully kitting them out.  She’d decided riding gear would be perfect for the start of their training; they could happily wear it on the street without attracting too much attention, and she knew they were also intending to join Pitt’s Wood and bring their riding up to speed.  So she had transferred a budget to each of them for the purchase of a couple of sets of classic horse riding clothes – on top of which they had the outfits they had worn to Eleanor’s party, complete with those special leather riding-boots fitted with whip retainers.
“You can wear those when you start at the Centre if you like, girls,” she had said.  “But if you do, I must warn you you’ll have all the girls there pestering you about where you got them.”

They arrived just ahead of time.  They were both wearing cream jods and riding boots, Kaiya with a crisp white shirt and her hair in two braids, Barbara in a cute grey tunic top.   
“Good morning girls!  You look great!  Just what I wanted – basic, simple good-quality outfits.”
“Good morning, miss,” they chorused.
“We bought other stuff, miss,” added Kaiya, “like showing shirts and ties and stocks and stock-pins, and lovely hard hats and hairnets, from that great equestrian shop at the end of town, but we left all that at home, as well as all the stuff you got us from Fantastex, apart from these really cool leather riding gloves.”
“Let me see…  they are nice.  Yes, the other stuff can wait a bit.  And there’s some more of the tailored things to come in a week or two.”
“It’s so exciting…” exclaimed Barbara.
“What about Chantal?”
“Oh, yes, of course we bought her a full outfit as well - as you suggested.  She loves it, doesn’t she, Kaiya?”
“She really does.  She’s so petite - and she looks so cute.  She’s never ridden before, but she’s going to learn.”
“How’s she enjoying her freedom?”
Barbara smiled.  “She’s so happy.  She’s enrolled at our college, too.  Starts in a week.  Art and Design.  It seems her mum wanted to keep her at home – probably for the company and to do the housework.  But now she’s free to do all the things she wanted to.  She’s in our spare room.  We’ve been helping her move in.  Polly’s not happy but she seems to know we have a hold over her now, so she can’t object.”
“Let me know if you need an advance…”
“Thanks, madam,” said Kaiya.  “That’s very kind, but we’re okay.  Chantal has some money of her own, you gave us that start-up money yesterday, and it’s manageable with the three of us living together.  The flat’s not that expensive, and our landlady’s very nice, so we don’t have any worries at present.”
“Well let me know if you need help.  I’m going to pay you by the week until the end of September, then you’ll get a monthly salary.”
“Thank you, miss.  By the way, How’s Bobby?”
“He’s fine.  He’s back at Clarissa’s now.  I spoke to her last night.  I gather he had fun with MĂ©lisande and her friends yesterday – I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“When will he be back?”
“Well…  He’ll be staying at Clarissa’s most of the time, at least till the Pitt’s Wood Open Day.  Then he’ll be working as a boot boy.  He’s decided to delay college for a year.  It’s probably a good idea.”
“Yes.  We did that as well.  I mean, we had to, really, to earn some money, or we’d both be living at home still, which would be awful…  It’s a great feeling to be independent…”
“You made the right choice, Barbara.”
“So…why is Bobby staying at Clarissa’s?  I hope that MĂ©lisande’s not bossing him about too much…”
Nicole laughed.  “Oh, I’m sure she is!  But there’s a good reason.  I’ll tell you soon.  But let’s have a quick coffee.  Maria’s asked for an urgent meeting.  She’s going to be here at ten.  After she leaves we’ll do a few hours training and have lunch.  Then, if you have time, we could spin over to the Centre and get you enrolled.”
“Great,” said Barbara.”
“Then you can have a look around and get the lie of the land.  If Miss Poole’s there you can show her your outfits – she’s only seen you as maids, right?  I’m sure she’ll approve.”

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #159 on: December 09, 2024, 04:28:29 PM »
Chapter 149.

In the event Maria was fifteen minutes early.  There was a short, nervous ring at the bell.
“Would you like us to go downstairs?” asked Kaiya.
“No, Kaiya.  She’s your client too now.”
Nicole opened the door and ushered her into the room.  She was flushed and anxious.
“Have a seat darling.  Relax.  Coffee?  Tea?  Tea, okay.  Camomile, I think, in your present state.”
The girls smiled greetings, whilst Maria blinked, a little embarrassed.  Once she had had a few sips of tea she calmed down a little.
“So, Maria…  What’s the matter?  Are they moving out or something?”
“Oh, no…no, not that.  Worse.”
“Worse?”
“Paula found the camera!”
“Oh.  Oh, I see…  That’s a nuisance…  So…what did she say…?”
“It’s more than a nuisance, Nicole…I mean madam…”
“Forget the formalities, Maria.  Just tell me what happened.”
“Well, it was yesterday morning.  They’d had quite a wild session the previous night.  I’d actually turned the camera off after an hour and gone to sleep.  I heard Phillip go off to work, but not Paula.  I could hear her moving about next door.  Then there was a sharp knock at my bedroom door.  When I opened it there she was, looking quite angry, and holding my camera.  “What’s this?” she says.  I didn’t know what to say.  I could feel my cheeks burning.  “You’ve been spying on us, haven’t you?   Have you been recording us, too?  Well, have you?”  Really, Nicole…miss…  I didn’t…I mean I couldn’t speak.  I felt like I was choking.  I thought she might hit me or something…  Seriously!  She was fuming.”
“So what did you do?”
“I burst into tears and sat down on the floor.  I felt like a naughty child.  I couldn’t look her in the face.  I just shut my eyes and kept saying “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”  She didn’t say a word for about two minutes, I think…  Then she grabbed a handful of my hair and forced me to my feet.  She marched me over to the bed and made me sit down.  Then she pulled up a chair facing me.  She saw my phone on the bedside cabinet, and picked it up.  “Open it,” she ordered.  I took it and dropped it, my hands were shaking so much.  She snorted, picked it up and thrust it at me.  “Do it!”  I did it.  She scrolled through all the vids and screenshots.  She played a couple of clips.  She sneered.  “Wow.  Good quality too…   Tell me Maria, did you masturbate watching these?”  I hung my head.  “Obviously you did, you little pervert.  Well, well…who would have thought it?  Sweet, chaste little Maria.  Now I know the truth.  But you shouldn’t keep it such a secret, darling.  Are you capable of telling the truth?  Well, are you?”  “Yes…” I snivelled, “usually…”  “Really?  Well, I think you should confess to Phillip about all this.  I know you fancy him.  Don’t look so surprised.  It's too bloody obvious, darling.  Suppose…he wants to report you to the police?”  Then I panicked.  “No!  He wouldn’t…would he?”  “He might…he’s a bit of a stickler for the rules, you know…”  “Please, Paula…”  “The only thing I can suggest is a complete confession…then he might relent….”  “Anything!  Yes, I’ll confess.  What do you want me to say?”  “Well, you’d have to tell him everything – every sordid detail.  Here.  Do it now.  Make a video.”  She pointed her own phone at me.  “Now!” 
Seriously, miss, I didn’t know what to do.  I was still in shock.  I just started blurting it all out.  I was crying and begging.  I can’t remember what I said.  She would interject every now and then.  “How long’s this been going on?  How many videos of us have you got?  And you said you masturbated while you watched?  How did you masturbate?  Did you use this?”  She just kept bullying me.  She’d found my dil-do in my bedside cabinet.  “You did?  Show me how you did it.  Show me, pervert!”  It went on for , I don’t know…maybe fifteen minutes.  At the end she pocketed her phone and smiled.  Then she says, “well, Maria, you’ve been enjoying yourself at our expense for quite a while, haven’t you?  Now it’s our turn to have some fun.  You like watching us, so Sunday evening you can come in a get a closer view.  No need for cameras.  I’ll even let you record us if you want, so you can wank yourself off later.  And you can keep what’s on here, too.  Our behaviour is perfectly normal.  We’re not perverts, like you.  And now I have the evidence to prove it.”  “But Paula, I couldn’t…I’d be too embarrassed…”  “Really?  Not as embarrassed as you’d be if I sent this to one of your friends…”
“Oh, Maria!  You’ve dropped yourself right in it!  No, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean that.  But don’t you see?  She made you feel desperately guilty, then used it against you!  I told you.  It was all deliberate.  She knew exactly what she was doing right from the start!”
“Do you think so?”
“I know so!  She’s the pervert, not you.  Not that there’s anything wrong with being a pervert,” she added, quietly.  “She always wanted to get you involved.  It must be a turn-on for her.  Oh, dear.  Anyway, if it’s being outed that worrying you, in my opinion you can forget it.  That’s not her game.  Put your mind at rest about that.  She’s going to use you to spice up her sex life.  She’s a classic exhibitionist.  I’m sure.  As if a woman that was so upset that you’d been watching her would suddenly get you into her bedroom for a closer view!  See?”
“Ah…  Now that you put it like that…” 
“Yes.  Quite.  So what did she do after she’d got the so-called confession?  Did by any chance her anger dissipate?”
“Y-yes…exactly.  She smiled…and said something like, “Well, see you tomorrow evening, you naughty girl…and something about me deserving a good spanking…”
“Surprise, surprise!  Oh well, whatever you’re asked to do, you may as well try to enjoy it…”
“Madam…  I’m such an idiot!  Why did I make that confession?  I’m a fool!”
“No, Maria.  You’re a normal well-balanced person who’s capable of feeling guilt.  She is someone who clearly has serious issues.  She’s quite willing to exploit you for her own amusement.  As for Phillip, I have no idea where he stands in all this, but I suspect it’s her idea, and maybe he’s simply not averse, or going along with it for her sake.  They must have discussed it because it took both of them to perform so noisily.  Don’t worry, though.  She doesn’t know you’ve got some fairly powerful friends to call on.  If she oversteps the mark…”
“Thank you, madam.  I feel a lot calmer now.  I didn’t sleep at all last night.  My stomach was all knotted up with anxiety…and, to be truthful, a little excitement.  I mean, what will happen?  My imagination is running wild…  It’s quite frightening…”

Simonssister

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Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Reply #160 on: December 09, 2024, 04:32:54 PM »
Chapter 150.

“Give us a moment, Maria.  I want to confer with my assistants…”
Nicole and the girls went into the kitchen, leaving Maria alone.  They conversed in undertones.
“Well girls?  Any thoughts?”
“That Paula…” began Barbara.  “She some sort of nympho.  She needs more than the thought of someone listening to them, or even watching them, to get off properly.  If Maria goes in there, she’ll abuse her in some way, I’m sure.”
“I agree.  Kaiya?”
“Yes.  I think they’ve planned it together.  They’ll involve her in their games all right.  Probably get some more video.  I reckon Paula’s had picked up on her submissiveness.  If Maria’s not careful she’ll end up as their sex slave.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.  So we need to take certain measures now.  This is what I suggest.  First, get her some physical protection.  We’ll take her to Fantastex and get her a good heavyweight latex catsuit with locking zips.  Second, we need to get our own camera in there.”
“Our own…?”
“So that they are clearly implicated too.  So if they try to blackmail her, we can – if necessary – blackmail them.  And we need to have a presence in case she needs help, and to allay her fears.  Of course, we’ll need to get Maria’s permission.  Let’s go see what she thinks.”
They returned to the living-room and Nicole outlined the plan to Maria.
“It would make me feel a lot safer – especially if someone were next door in my room.”
“That’s settled then.  The outfit should make them pause.  If they believe you’re just a lonely, defenceless innocent they might have to revise their opinion.  Okay, change of plan.  Let’s all go to Fantastex first and get Maria kitted out.  You’ve always wanted a latex catsuit, right darling?  Yes, I knew it.  Then, as we’re going in that direction,  I’ll take the girls on to Pitt’s Wood and get them enrolled today.  Now, Maria…  Do you know if Phillip and Paula will be out at all tomorrow?”
“As a matter of fact I do.  Paula told me last week that they’re meeting friends for tea Sunday afternoon.  I’m not sure what time…”
“That’s enough.  I can wait till I see them leave, then slip in.  I also have a bluetooth spy camera I can conceal in their room – one they won’t find.  But then, they won’t be looking for one any more, will they?   Do you have a key, Maria?”
“They never lock the door.”
“Good.  Then I can simply hide in there till the action starts.  Did Paula give you a time?”
“Yes.  Nine.”
“Oh, starting early!  It could be a long night.”
“Miss?  Can we come too?” asked Kaiya.
“Please, miss,” added Barbara.  “We’d love to be in on this…”
“Really?  Well, I guess…”
“Maria’s our client too, right?  We need to look after her.”
“Okay, girls.  We’ll all go.  Now, Maria’s catsuit…  What colour were you thinking of, darling?”
“I’m not sure…”
“May I suggest a self-effacing pale pink?  Just in case she takes the locking catsuit as a challenge of some sort, and reacts badly.  You need to appear as submissive and compliant as possible.  That shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it, Maria?”
“No…  Frankly I’m scared stiff of what she might do…”
“Good.  That’s the best way to be, I think…  Hmm.  Maybe a collar of some sort, too…  Velvet…  With a dog tag and a short leash.  Like your offering yourself up as her pet…  Anyway, let’s see what Cynthia suggests, shall we?”


 

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