His Aunt Nicole

[Simonssister]

Chapter 201.

Miss Poole stood looking down at the cringing boy for nearly a minute.  Then she turned to Ellie.
“On second thoughts I don’t trust this one.  We’ll keep him here tonight.  Collar him now and chain him to that ring.  Leave him some food and water overnight.  You’ll find the hay very comfortable, boy.  Get used to it.  If this sort of behaviour recurs, you’ll be spending more nights in here.  Ellie, set him to work as soon as you come in tomorrow.  Make him clean some of the younger girls’ boots – teach him his place.  When Cynthia arrives help her with the fitting, would you?”
“Yes, Miss Poole.  What time should we expect her?”
“I’ll tell her she can come as early as she likes.  Then his training can be a full dress rehearsal.”
Ellie smiled evilly.  “Yes, miss!  A sneak preview!  The girls will be so excited.”
“And I want him in the storage space underneath the seating ion the main arena by three.  I’ll talk to you about that later.  Please pop into reception on your way home and I’ll come out.”
“Yes, miss.”

So it was that by six-thirty that evening Timothy found himself sitting on a haybale with a leather-covered steel collar buckled and padlocked around his neck, attached by a long chain to the tethering ring bolted to the wall, with a pizza and a bottle of water on a tray at his feet.  But he wasn’t hungry – yet, anyway.  He took a swig of water and reflected on his fate.
“’Ow did I get myself into this mess?”  He lay down and stared up at the boarded wooden ceiling.  “What are these guys?  What right has that woman…?  This!”  He shook his chain.  “Is this even legal?  But what can I do?  They’ve got them pictures of me…and I signed that stupid contract thing…  Damn it!”  He frowned and scratched his head.  “And that aunt of Bobby’s…  That girl in the hood…  What goes on there…?”

It was just as well he didn’t know.  That day, Kaiya and Barbara had been taking Chantal Hunniford to see Nicole for a training session, Chantal’s first.  Not that Chantal needed much training.  For the girls’ purposes, she was a natural.  She had settled in immediately in the girls’ new flat, eager to please - and satisfy - them, and happy to go along with anything they may think up.  She had her own little bed at the foot of their double, and Nicole had lent them a smart little steel cage for when her natural playfulness needed to be curtailed, and had arranged a visit to Fantastex from which she returned with a couple of rather nice outfits.  The previous week they had held a party for some friends, at which Chantal, clad in one of those outfits, was the main attraction.  With her slim, lithe body, sheathed in a black latex catsuit fitted with solid rubber cat paws, and with a tight black latex hood framing her face, her black ponytail supported by a flange at the back, bouncing as she moved, she looked disarmingly sweet and innocent.  Her appearance was enhanced by stick-on cat-ears, and the whiskers and nose-spot painted on her face, below her natural prominent jet-black eyebrows.  She had been instructed not to speak throughout the whole party – but she could miaow and purr and make appropriate cat noises.  This was despite the fact she was fitted with an internal remote-controlled egg-shaped vibrator controlled from Barbara’s phone.  She had been warned that if she forgot herself to the extent of uttering even a syllable, she’d spent the next two days in her cage.  But she was a self-disciplined pussy cat, and in the event made her mistresses proud. 
The guests were two couples: Christine and David (married, in their thirties), and Macey and Jeff (dating, around 20), whom the girls knew from work and college respectively.  Chrstine was Barbara’s manager at the office where she worked part-time, and David was some sort of accounts manager in the same firm.  They’d met at a Christmas party.  Kaiya knew Jeff from college, where, being slightly younger than Barbara, she was still full-time.  Christine had taken Barbara under her wing at once, partly from protectiveness, but mainly because she wanted someone to share the secrets of her love-life, and perceived right away that Barbara was the broad-minded type.  It had been a month since she took her into her confidence.
“Babs, guess what?  That bastard David.  You know that new girl in accounts?  Yes, the pretty one.  He couldn’t bloody help himself, could he?  How old is she?”
“Dunno.  Could be nineteen…  Could be younger.”
“Right!”
“Have they…?”
“Don’t think so.  And they’re not gonna.  I gotta go.  Ring you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”

It turned out Christine had dealt with the problem in a most practical way.  Under threat of filing for divorce, she had forced him to let her fit him with a chastity device – a super-secure steel one, so there could be no messing with it – as a “forty-eight hour” punishment.   But then she’d refused to release him, until she’d reduced him to a blubbering, pleading wimp; which she liked so much, she decided to prolong his enforced impotence for an indefinite period.  Now she had the upper hand, she was up for a bit of fun herself.  She and David were the first to arrive, and he stopped as if he’d been shot when he laid eyes on Chantal, sitting like a cat beside her cage apparently licking her paws and washing her ears!  His mouth fell open and he stared at her stupidly, uncomprehending.
“Oh, look David!  What a cute little pussy-cat!” squealed Christine, who had been forewarned of Chantal’s appearance, and was determined to make the most of his discomfort.  “You like cats, don’t you?  Go give her a stroke…  Go on!”
“David…   Take a seat…right here.”  Still shell-shocked, he allowed Barbara to push him into an armchair.  “Pussy?  Would you like to sit on David’s lap?”
“No…”  David went to rise, but Chantal was quicker, and jumped up onto his lap.  She proceeded in true feline fashion to make herself comfortable by kneading him with her paws, not sparing the little hard lump between his thighs, until he was squirming and gasping, and Chrstine was almost wetting herself with amusement.  When after a few minutes Chantal decided to jump down, poor David was left red-faced, breathless and distressed.  Christine smiled with satisfaction.
Jeff and Macey were equally gobsmacked, but quickly recovered and fell to their knees stroking and petting her while she purred and mewed appreciatively, and rubbed her head on their arms. 

Once all the initial excitement had dissipated, and they had all been introduced, and were sitting around chatting and congratulating the girls on their new pet, Chantal herself started showing off.  It hadn’t taken Barbara and Kaiya long to discover her kinks.  As well as loving to play the role of pet, to be the girls little slave-girl, she was addicted to attention.  For her, sex was only really exciting if she was being watched.  That was why she had enjoyed that first session with the girls at her mother’s party so much.  So she couldn’t resist the temptation to jump up onto a chair, thence onto the table, and lie down.  This was Barbara’s cue to turn on her vibrator, and soon she was purring loudly, and rolling and squirming in undisguised arousal, much to the fascination of the guests.  But by the time they seated themselves for lunch, she had climbed down and was prowling about their feet.  Then she disappeared under the table…

[Simonssister]

Chapter 202.

They were well into the salad when Christine gave a little gasp and sat up straighter in her chair.  She was seated alone at one end of the dining table.  She looked questioningly at Barbara.
“Oh, pussy’s playing about, is she?  Just ignore her Chrissie.  Don’t worry, she never claws anyone.  Relax.”
Chrstine could feel one of Chantal’s latex ears tickling her calf.  Then a moment later, a soft warm tongue just below her knee, and her head pushing between her knees.  She continued with her salad, talking to Macey in between bites about the problem of finding reasonably well-educated staff.
“I was so glad when Babs here joined us.  I hope she stays, but I know it’ll be difficult to hang onto someone as talented as…”  She broke off.  She had so far been able to ignore the distractions under the table, but now Chantal’s head was pushing between her thighs, forcing her to open her legs wider than seemed proper.  She felt Chantal’s tongue exploring the inside of her thigh.  She was beginning to feel rather excited, but alarmed at the same time, especially as she was wearing only a lightweight thong under her skirt.  What in the world was that girl up to…?
She soon found out.  Chantal’s black ears appeared from beneath the tablecloth, and Chantal’s white teeth fastened themselves on Christine’s thong.  Then the ears withdrew, and shortly after the thong followed, sliding down Christine’s things and over her knees.  Macey was asking her a question, but what it was she wasn’t sure.  She needed to remain calm and controlled.  She gave Barbara a severe look, but only received a quick, smug smile in return.
“Christine?”
“Sorry, Macey.  I was thinking of something else…”
“Recruitment.  What’s your policy?”
“Recruit…?”
Chantal’s head was between her knees again, pushing forward gently but firmly.  What should she do?   She felt Chantal’s tongue again, on the other thigh this time, inches from her bare pussy.  She began to stammer.
“I-I…er, we…you know…like, our pussyly…I mean policy…policy, yes…”
Jeff laughed.  “Yes, where is pussy?  Is she still…?”
He went to lift the edge of the cloth, but Kaiya, sitting next to him, touched his hand.
“Leave her, Jeff.  She just likes to play under the table.  It’s her little house – when she’s not in her cage.”
“Oh.”  He laughed.  “I see.  I hope she comes out soon.  I’d like to stroke her again…”
“I bet you would,” said Macey, sarcastically.
Christine’s thighs were wide apart.  She was utterly exposed.  She was vacillating between pretending nothing was happening, and thinking of jumping up under the pretext of visiting the toilet.  But at that moment Chantal’s tongue sought and found its destination.  As the warm tip slipped between her lips, Christine froze.  She couldn’t believe this was really happening.  She’d been holding back, but now in an instant her defences collapsed, and she gave in to her basest desires.  She dabbed her mouth with her napkin to disguise her arousal.  Another soft thrust of Chantal’s little tongue, and she felt the pent-up juices flow out of her.  Chantal must have been pleased, because she began to lap them up greedily.  Christine opened up like a flower bursting into bloom.  She coughed and spluttered into the napkin, but kept her legs open, and even slipped a hand surreptitiously behind Chantal’s head.  She was aware everyone was looking at her, but her eyes were swimming now, and she was panting openly.
“Are…are you all right, Chrissy…?” asked Macey, concerned.
“Y-yes…I’m fine….don’t worry about…oh, god…don’t worry about me…I….I…”
“Oh, it’s that naughty pussy,” remarked Kaiya, matter-of factly.  “She just can’t resist…”
The other guests stared.  Realisation dawned.  The food was forgotten for the moment,  All eyes were on the semi-conscious Christine, eyes closed, head swaying, at the head of the table.
“Oh, fuc-k…don’t stop…please…” she moaned, caressing the smooth latex hood, and gripping the little flexible cat ears.  A soft, contented miaow emanated from below.
“She just loves licking pussy,” continued Kaiya.  “You can imagine why we enjoy having her as a pet so much.  She can’t seem to get enough.  I’m sure she won’t want to leave you out, Macey, when she finished with Christine.”
“Really?” said Macey, vacantly, without taking her eyes off Christine.
“Does she only like…you know…ladies?” asked Jeff, agitated.
“Oh, no.  She’s always talking about coc-k, it's true, but as yet…well, that will be a special treat at some point…”
Jeff swallowed hard.  He had turned white.  David looked on the point of fainting.  Macey opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, Christine cried out, and grabbed the tablecloth so hard she dragged the dishes across the table.  Chantal was now dividing her attention between the open, oozing lips and the swollen clitoris.
“fuc-k…fuc-k!  I’m c-umming!  Oh, fuc-k….!”  She jerked backwards, jolting the table, then threw her head back as spasm after spasm shook her body.  It was a full minute before her orgasm began to subside, during which no-one was conscious of anything else – though Barbara, expecting no less, recorded the episode on her phone “for posterity”, as she afterwards said.
As Christine finally slumped in her chair, flushed and gasping, and Chantal retreated unostentatiously beneath the table, Kaiya winked at her friend.  “One down,” she whispered.

[Simonssister]

Chapter 203.

It wasn’t the end of the party.  It wasn’t even the beginning of the end.  But it may have been the end of the beginning.  Be that as it may, it is necessary for the moment to return to the present, and to the Pitt’s Wood Show.  And a dry, sunny day forecast.  The staff had been hard at work since before six that morning.  The jumps course had been laid out in the big paddock, the dressage area had been raked smooth, the judges chairs placed in the middle of the seating area.  Outside reception, down the far side of the field, and in the show area itself, stalls were being set up – everything from tack and equipment from the big retailers to pictures to gifts to charity stalls, from Pony Club and BHS stands to stalls selling food and drink of every sort you could imagine.  There was an air of fervid excitement everywhere, and in the quieter areas nervous competitors, beautifully turned out in full riding habits, polishing tack or grooming their mounts.   And in stable 13, Timothy was already working hard.  Supervised by Ellie and Jasmin, he was employed polishing the boots of some of the junior entrants, who were allowed in in groups of two or three, whilst outside there was a queue of a dozen or more.  A wooden chair had been placed in the middle of the stable, in front of which Timothy, wearing knee-pads, knelt with his brushes, cloths and polishes next to him, diligently bringing the boots to a hazy shine.  He was still tethered to the wall by his chain, having been released only temporarily for a toilet break.
“You’ll notice the younger ones normally wear rubber boots,” remarked Ellie, “ which makes it easy for you.  You can wipe them with a damp rag and polish with the rubber polish, and they look great.  It’s too expensive for girls who are growing so fast to wear leather.  Rubber’s much cheaper, and it looks just as good.  Timmy!  You missed the heel!  Come on, boy – get with it.  If Miss Poole finds out…”
“Okay, okay!  I’m sorry.  There, I’ve done it now.  Don’t make such a fuss!”
“Don’t answer back!”  She gave him a gentle smack with her whip, making the girls giggle.  “Every boot is important.  If you start skimping with some of the professionals you’ll get in big trouble.  They won’t stand carelessness or inefficiency.  And you call me miss, right?  In fact, you call all your customers miss or madam.  It’s basic courtesy.” 
The girl whose boots he had been polishing got up and made for the door.
“Thank you…Timmy!” she smirked as she exited.
“Thank you…miss…”
Cue more giggles.  Ellie waved his next customer into the chair, and called another girl in from outside, who watched smiling whilst he continued with his work. 
This was not at all how he had imagined it.  He had thought he would be a respected, skilled technician.  But this was downright humiliating, being sneered and giggled at by a bunch of little girls.  Where were all these professionals Ellie was talking about?  He had seen them around in the Centre – tall, beautiful women, immaculately turned out in cream breeches, not a wrinkle in sight, and lovely gleaming leather riding boots – proper ones, with raised sides and laces and little silver spurs…  Just wait till he had the chance to work with them.  Then he’d show them how good he was.  They were bound to be impressed…  Maybe he’d get to date one of them, even.  He sighed.  Well, at least he didn’t have to wear that silly superhero outfit today.  That would have been purgatory.

The thought was hardly out of his mind when there was a knock at the open door, and there stood Cynthia, holding a shiny pink overnight bag.
“Hello?  I’m Cynthia from Fantastex.  Ellie is it?”
“Hi.  Yes I’m Ellie.  This is Jasmin.”
“Miss Poole told me to come early.  Can we do Timmy’s fitting in here?”
Timothy’s heart sank.  Please no, not here…
“Of course.  Timmy, when you’ve finished Imelda’s boots I’ll ask the others to wait while Cynthia does the fitting.”
“But…”
“Shush.  Get on, please.”

Ten minutes later Jasmin shut the door, and she and Ellie stood to one side and watched gleefully as Cynthia stripped him and handed him his outfit piece by piece.  First the superhero pants, which she lubed carefully while he stood, quite naked, covering himself with his hands.  She handed them to him, he turned his back, and this time, in his embarrassment, he couldn’t get them on quick enough.  They felt snugger than before, but perhaps it was his imagination.  The lube made them slip against his skin whenever he moved.  Next his calf-length boots, with raised fronts embellished with letter “T”s, his gloves, which were shorter and more close-fitting than the original ones, and his crop top with its big “T”.   Cynthia helped him to tie his cape, which now came only half way down his back.
“I think this looks nicer.  It won’t get in the way while you’re working, and it won’t interfere with the view of your cute little bum!”
“Oh no,” cried Jasmin, delighted, “everyone needs to see your cute little bum!”
And she and Ellie dissolved in mirth.
Finally, Cynthia produced his baseball cap – red vinyl, with “BOOT BOY TIMMY” across the front in yellow letters.
“There.  You look smashing.  And the alterations are perfect.  What do you think, girls?”
“Ooh, you look gorgeous, Timmy!” cooed Ellie, satirically.  Wait till the girls see you.”
She strode to the door and opened it.  “Ooh, quite a queue…”
“No!” squealed Timothy.  “Wait!  I have to change back before…”
But it was too late.  Ellie had already called in the first three.  Aghast, Bobby tried to flee to the bathroom section.  But he was firmly arrested by his chain.  He turned, helplessly, his face the picture of despair.  The three young girls gaped, then screamed in unison.  The first made a dash for the chair, and just claimed it ahead of the others.  They stared at him, their faces studies in disbelief.  He went to turn his back on them, but Ellie turned him back firmly and knelt to strap on his knee-pads.
“Stand still, Timmy.  These poor girls have been waiting outside for a while now, and you’ve got a lot more to attend to.  Won’t be a minute girls.  What are your names?”
“I’m Soria.”
“I’m Deborah Cresswell.”
“I’m Felicity Bell,” said the one sitting in the chair.
“Well, Felicity Bell, you’ll be the first one to have your boots polished by our newest Boot Boy in his very first outfit.  Timmy’s only just joined us, haven’t you, sweetie?  He’s very excited about his superhero costume.  I hope you like it as much as he does…”
“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” cried Felicity.  “He looks so handsome in it!”
“Gosh, yes,” nodded Soria, seriously, looking him up and down. 
“I love it,” added Deborah.  “Timmy…?  What’s it made of?  It sort of looks like…you know…”
“It’s one hundred percent latex,” interjected Jasmin.
“Yes,” said Cynthia proudly, “in fact, it’s the finest quality latex on the market.  Very stretchy and comfortable, but extra strong and tear resistant.  Why don’t you girls go and feel it?”
“Don’t worry, Felicity,” smiled Ellie.  “Your next.  You won’t lose your place.”
To his utter mortification Timothy had to stand there while the three girls surrounded him, touching and tugging and even sniffing at the latex.
“It has that nice rubber smell,” cried Soria, “just like balloons.”
“Even the little frills are latex,” marvelled Felicity.
“It looks so sexy,” giggled Deborah.  “I wish all boys has to wear things like this!”

Ellie gave them a minute, then asked Felicity to get back in the chair.
“We’d better get on.  You’ve got a lot more customers waiting, Timmy.”
“Yes, miss.”  He sank to his knees.  Felicity’s boots looked brand new, and he soon had them gleaming.
“Thank you Timmy.  I’m going to come and visit you again soon.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, what, Timmy?”
“Thank you, Miss Felicity…”
“Good boy.  Now let’s get a move on, shall we?”
As he embarked upon the next pair of boots, he could hear Felicity outside spreading the news to her friends, and the little whoops and gasps of surprise from those waiting in the queue.  It was going to be a long day…