His Aunt Nicole

[Simonssister]

Chapter 241.

Frankie Meering sat in the waiting-room in a state of contained nervous uneasiness.  She had never intended to make a visit to the boot parlour.  She was an only child, and had been brought up by a single mother with anxiety issues, who had taught her to be wary of everyone, but especially men.  As a result she was still as timid as a little mouse in mixed society, and was only really comfortable in the company of her few friends or her horses.  But two of those friends, who had already visited, had coaxed and teased her until she felt ashamed of her cowardice, and consented to take the plunge.  Having agreed and allowed them to book a session for her, she immediately regretted her decision.  But they had made sure she attended, accompanying her to the boot parlour entrance and handing her into Ellie’s custody.  Even then, had it not been for Ellie’s detaining her with aimless gossip, at which she excelled, she may well have fled.

She had seen the boys about the Centre in their civvies, and the sight of them brought a flush to her cheeks, and, when on one occasion they passed close by and looked at her, almost gave her a panic attack.  Tim especially seemed so tall and masculine that the mere idea of being in his company, especially wearing one of those superhero uniforms she had seen at the show, made her heart flutter with terror. 
She waited, trembling, as the clock ticked towards nine.  On the dot, the door opened, and the boys appeared - their first appearance before customers as pageboys.  She took in the little latex shorts with pink grills, the frilled latex gloves, the Mary Janes, the ribbon chokers – and nearly laughed out loud.  Her hand went to her mouth, and she emitted an involuntary snort.  The boys, anticipating quite the opposite reaction, stopped in their tracks.  Was this the shy, delicate girl Ellie had warned them about?  Had there been a change of booking?  Why wasn’t she staring in admiration at their amazing cool uniforms?
Bobby took charge.
“Er, good morning, miss.  I’m Bobby, and this is Timmy.  Boot boys at your service.  Please instruct us as to what you require, and we’ll do our best…”
Frankie had quickly recovered her self-control.  “Thank you, boys.  I must say you look very…smart.  Smart, yes.”  She was fighting the desire to burst out laughing.  So these were the boys she had been frightened of!  How could they possibly think…?  But it didn’t matter.  They believed it, and she wasn’t going to disabuse them.  She’d take  her cue from them.
“Wow!  What amazing uniforms!  You look so cool.  I’m so glad I came to see you at last.”
The boys looked at each other with satisfied smiles.  She must have been taken aback at first.  Too much of a shock for her, probably.
Tim immediately went into swaggering mode.
“Glad you like ‘em, miss.  Do you like the colour?  Cos we got uvvers in the pipeline, like, in different styles and colours.”
“Wherever did you get them?”
“We got our own supplier, see?  Big internash’nal company.  Make us whatever we want.”
“Really?  But I like these ones.  I love them, in fact.  Can I see…?”
She leant forward.  Tim strolled over to give her a better view.  She reached out and touched the side of his shorts, then ruffled his frills.  She noted with delight the vertical bulge at the front, and the neat separation of his balls.  She bit her lip, determined to stay serious.
“They’re so well made…  And the fit…”
“All our uniforms are made to measure,” piped up Bobby. 
“Gosh, is that a fact?”  Frankie leant back again.  “Do you only wear them in here?  It’s a pity you can’t wear them outside for everyone to see.”
“Well, no, we’re not allowed,” continued Bobby.  “I think Miss Poole is worried they might get damaged if we did that…”
“Yeah.  They’re ‘spensive, see…very ‘spensive,” boasted Tim.
“But next month,” said Bobby, excitedly, “we have permission to wear them to a big wedding.  It’s like a friend of a friend…”
“Gosh, how exciting!  You’ll be a big hit, I’m sure…”

There was a short pause, while Frankie looked both of them up and down.  She took out her phone.
“Would you mind if…?”
“No, not at all,” said Bobby.  “Go ahead.”
“Could I have one of each of you separately, then one with both of you together?”
“Sure.”
“Bobby? Could you stand by the door?  Just stand naturally…”
She rose from her chair and stood opposite him.  Bobby hooked his thumbs into his belt and grinned.  Frankie took a number snaps in various poses, keeping him busy for about five minutes, during which time he became conscious of the increasing intensity of the vibrations deep inside, and the consequent effect on his level of arousal.  By the time she was satisfied, the pressure in the front of his shorts was palpable.  He blushed slightly, and was relieved to when she called on Tim to take his place.
But Tim was already in a worse state.  His plug had been twitching and pulsing all the while Bobby was being photographed, and now, despite his best efforts, his coc-k was quite out of control, and flaunting its length shamelessly as if determined to do its best to reach his belt buckle.  At Frankie’s summons he looked around, as if to say, “what, me?” but Frankie, delighted at his obvious embarrassment, was having no procrastination, and gestured to him to take Bobby’s place by the door.  She went down on one knee to make sure of the best angle.
“Come on, Timmy.  Your turn.  Good boy.  No, not like that – hook your thumbs in your belt like Bobby did.  That’s it.  That a much cooler pose.  Smile, Timmy…  Come on now, show how happy you are in your brand new pageboy outfit.  That’s right!  Hold it…”
Tim’s cheeks were burning as he faced her.  His coc-k was as now firm and fat as a bratwurst sausage, standing proud and vertical in his shorts, pressing against his tummy.  There was a noticeable narrowing half way up the shaft, marking the position of the latex tether.  Every now and then it twitched visibly in response to the relentless vibrations of his butt-plug.  But Frankie had no mercy, ordering into a variety of cute poses, enhanced by finger gestures – peace sign, finger to lips (naughty-boy style), hand over mouth (oops! What have I done?), and so on.  She even tricked him into one, making him stand with his right thumb hooked into his belt, and then telling him to close all his other fingers except the index finger, leaving him pointing right at that which he most desired to conceal; but he realised just too late! 
When she had finished with him, she took a brief time out to scroll through her pictures.  Yes, these were going to make her quite a reputation amongst her friends, no doubt about that.  She wound up with a few snaps of the boys together, arms in arm, wearing sickly smiles.  The boot-cleaning came almost as an afterthought, but she felt the boys had done everything she had asked of them, and they deserved the respite of being on their knees for a few minutes instead of on show.
She looked down at them as they knelt, side-by-side, working on the leather.  These were the sort of boys she liked.  Sweet, innocent, and easily tamed.  The shyness was all theirs; she felt quite at ease around them now, and indeed, the whole session had made her feel a much more confident person.  She knew this wouldn’t be her last visit…

As she walked away from the parlour, past a couple of waiting customers, she felt calm and contented.  Thinking of the photos on her phone, and the pleasure she would have editing them and showing them off to her friends, there was an uncharacteristically satisfied smile on her face…

[Simonssister]

Chapter 242.

Ellie had hung around to check Frankie wasn’t too shocked by her experience, and was quite surprised to see her emerge from the waiting-room with a smile on her face.
“Hi, Frankie?  Okay, sweetie?”
“Oh, yes, Ellie.  That was quite a show, thank you.  Quite an eye-opener.”
“Oh…well, good.  I’m pleased you’re…satisfied.  Your boots look lovely and shiny now…”
“My boots?  Oh, yes…of course, my boots.  Yes, they did a good job on those too.  Very smart boys.  I shall definitely be back.”
“Really?  You liked their uniforms, then…”
“Oh my god, they’re just perfect, Ellie.  I never imagined Miss Poole…   I mean to say, the boys are so good.  Polite and obedient.  And such an amazing service.  I can’t wait to show my friends the photos I took.”
“Photos?  You took some photos?”
“Lots and lots, actually, Ellie.  Especially of Tim.  He’s quite a big boy, isn’t he?  I mean, to be wearing those cute little shorts.  Bobby too – so pretty.  They’re going to cause a sensation at that wedding…”
“Oh, they told you…”
“Boasting about it, yes, bless them.  To think I had to be persuaded to come here…”
She looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned on her heel and headed for the door.
“See you again soon, Ellie.”

The door had barely shut behind her when Tim burst out of the waiting-room. 
“Has she gone?”
Ellie frowned - then noticed his erection.  She refrained from smiling.  “Yes…”
“Ellie, what’s wiv these plugs?  They were goin’ mad today.  Did you alter the settin’s or somefink?”
“Settings, Tim?  There are no settings.  I told you, the vibrations are completely random.  I have no control over them.  What, did it feel different today?”
She lied convincingly.  Future pranks depended on them believing it.
“Different?  Stronger, yes.  Like my whole lower body feels like it bein’ vibed…”
“Oh…  Yes, I see.  You too, Bobby?”
“Yes…  It was quite embarrassing.  I hope we didn’t scare her away…”
In view of her recent conversation with Frankie, she didn’t think they had, but she made a mental note to be more careful with the butt-plugs.  “If they can do that setting three,” she thought, “what effect must the higher ones have?”
She would have offered to change their shorts, but at that moment the next booking arrived.  The boys dodged back inside and tried to calm themselves, but it was clear they were in for a torrid morning…

At lunchtime Ellie arranged for the boys to change into clean shorts – and she made sure the vibes were on the lowest setting.
“There.  I’ll have the others checked out.  It may be an internal fault.”
Tim looked suspicious, but as nothing toward had happened after fifteen minutes or so, apart from some minor fluttering, he accepted her explanation.
“Who’s next,” asked Bobby.  “Anyone we know?”
“You don’t know them.  It’s Faith and Jamilah.  They’re members, and their horses are in livery hear.  Experienced riders.  They started here together when they were kids.  Won a good few medals between them.  They’re here out of curiosity.  They told me they’d heard some pretty lurid rumours about the new boot boys, so they decided to come and check them out.  And get their boots polished.”

Almost as soon as they opened the waiting-room door and saw their customers sitting chatting and sipping coffee, Bobby and Tim knew this was going to be one of their more pleasurable sessions.
“Hi boys!  Lovely to see you!  We’ve heard so much about you,” cried Faith, with a big smile.
“Don’t tell us,” grinned Jamilah.  “You’re Tim” -  she pointed at Tim – “and you’re Bobby.  Yes, everyone’s talking about you, you know.  Your quite famous – and not only in Pitt’s Wood.  I’ve heard some of the girls from Fleetford have booked sessions too.”
The boys relaxed at once.
“We do our best…” began Bobby.
“Come and sit down for a minute” said Faith.  “Let’s get to know each other.  Here…”
She moved along two seats, and beckoned them to sit between her and Jamilah.  They made their way over and sat down rather awkwardly, hands in laps, Tim next to Jamilah, Bobby next to Faith.
“So these are you new uniforms,” said Jamilah.  “Very smart!  We were lucky, Faith – we got the first day of their pageboy outfits.  They really suit you.  Do you like them?”
“Oh, yeah…  Fanks, miss.”
“Yes, thank you for saying so.  We’re very proud of our new uniforms.  We’re grateful to Miss Poole for paying for them, for our boot parlour, and all our equipment.  She’s been really good to us all along.”
“That’s because she knows a good thing when she sees it,” nodded Faith.  “She’s a very good businesswoman as well as knowing everything there is to know about equitation.  But boys – how did you get into this occupation – cleaning boots?”
“’E started it,” said Tim, pointing a thumb at Bobby.  “’E was the one what was inter it from the start, eh, mate?”
“Is that true, Bobby?”
Bobby reddened slightly.  “I guess…  I used to clean all my aunt’s boots for her – she’s got stacks and stacks of them – and she knows Miss Poole, and the idea just sort of grew from there…”
“So do you enjoy what you do?”
“Oh, yes, very much!” he blurted.  Then perceiving he may have dropped his guard a little, he added, “I, er…that is to say…  What I mean is, it’s very satisfying to provide a useful service to all the riders.  They may not have time to clean their boots, and with us they don’t even have to take them off.  They can sit and relax while we do all the work.”
“You sound as though you love what you do, Bobby.  How about you, Tim?”
“At first ‘e talked me inter it.  But now I’m getting’ to like it.  We get well paid, and…”
“And you get to chat up all the girls…” put in Jamilah, with a wink.
Tim gave a sheepish grin.
“So, what sort of boots do you like best?” asked Faith.
“I don’t mind,” said Tim, frankly.  “’E likes figh-boots, don’cher Bobby?”
“Really, Bobby?  Is that true?” gasped Jamilah.  “I wish I’d known.  I would have worn mine today.  They come right up to here!”  She indicated a point high up on her thigh.  Bobby gulped and pressed his hands more firmly in his lap.  The mere thought was enough…
“Yeah, it’s true, ain’t it mate?”
“Shut up, Tim…”
“You should’a seen ‘im when we ‘ad that Serena lady in ‘ere…”
“Serena?”  Faith laughed.  “You serviced Serena?”
“Yeah,” continued Tim, enjoying Bobby’s embarrassment, “we did.  An’ she was wearin’ this amazin’ latex outfit…”
“Ah, yes.  We’ve seen that,” said Faith.  “That little flirt.  Well, if she’s heard about your new outfits she’ll be back, I can guarantee that.”
“Yes.  There’s nothing she likes better than handsome young men,” grinned Jamilah.  “Eats ‘em for breakfast.  Better watch out, boys!”
“How do you feel about being eaten by Serena?” asked Faith seriously.  The boys looked at her, alarmed, making the girls explode with laughter.
“Anyway,” said Jamilah, “I think it’s time you attended to us.  Do you like our boots?”
Both girls wore tan riding boots over black leather breeches, a look that had been trending at Pitt’s Wood for some months.  They had been leaning into the boys, so that the leather was pressing against their bare thighs.  Beneath his hands Bobby was already hard, and Tim wasn’t far behind.  It was a relief to get down on their knees and get to work…

It was an enjoyable session.  The boys felt they had made two good friends.  The girls left a good tip, kissed them goodbye, promised to come again soon – and Jamilah promised to wear her thigh-boots.  They left the boys in the waiting-room, walked down the corridor and out of the main door.  And only then did they release their suppressed feelings, and collapse in laughter…