His Aunt Nicole

[Simonssister]

Chapter 1.

Robert Tucker had only two close relatives – his mother and his aunt.  They had both shared responsibility for his upbringing, his mother providing most of the love and tenderness, his aunt the guidance and discipline.  Indeed, his mother, Rosemary, had rather doted on him, even mollycoddled him a little, so his aunt’s influence became an important counterbalance to his mother’s indulgence.
Robert – Bobby, as he was always called – loved his mother dearly, but his attitude to his aunt was rather one of fascination than affection.  Nicole was Rosemary’s elder sister by eight years.  Bobby had first become aware of her as a fixture in his life when he was a toddler, and she was in her late twenties.  She was a powerful physical presence, taller and more glamorous than his mother, and he associated her with the fragrance of perfume, the sharp click of heels, and the creak of leather boots.  As he grew older these sensuous elements were supplemented by others: when she bent to kiss him, the sleek blackness of her hair, the scarlet gleam of her lips, and even the crusts of mascara on her long lashes.  By the time he was five, he had an intense childish crush on her, which only grew with the years, and despite his other friendships, always made him feel most fulfilled when she was nearby.
As he grew up, it slowly dawned on him that Aunt Nicole was not only a woman of beauty, but a woman of mystery.  She possessed some secret shared only by her sister, never spoken of, but occasionally hinted at by subtle tokens of silent conversation; sly winks, half-smiles quickly checked, the raise of an eyebrow.  She was indeed a mysterious person.  Bobby visited her and stayed overnight regularly.  She lived alone in a large Victorian house with a front and a back gates and three external doorways.  She didn’t seem to have any regular employment, but always seemed to have plenty of money, especially ready cash.  She went out riding with her friends every weekend, and kept two horses at livery with the local riding stable.  When Bobby started questioning her about what she did for a living, she would tell him she wrote articles and stories.  When he asked about what, she would say,
“Oh…lots of things.  I write technical articles about history and politics, also equestrianism, and also stories of all sorts.”
“Children’s stories?”
“Sometimes.  Mostly grown-up stories, but sometimes children’s too…”
“Can you read me one?”
“Okay…  But not today, dear.  When you come over next week, all right?”
And she did.  She read it from her tablet.  He was thrilled.  It was as good as anything he had ever read in a book.  It was about a rabbit and a hare who fell in love, and, having been rejected by their own families, ran away together to another land where all the animals mixed together, and about all the difficulties they had to overcome on the way, and all the fights they got into, and the clever ways they defeated or eluded their enemies.  He had to stay over two nights because it was so long, and when he got home he tried to relate the whole thing to his mother, but couldn’t remember it all, and she laughed and cuddled him and said something about his “bad, clever Auntie Nicole”…
Of course, after that he was continually asking for new stories.  Sometimes Nicole would say she had work to do and didn’t have time to read to him that evening, or tell him he was too tired and needed to sleep.  It took him a few weeks, but eventually he realised she had no stock of stories ready to read to him.  No – each time she would go away and write a new one especially for him!  That was how it seemed, anyway.  Either way, she was good at making them up and good at telling them.
But the stories were a bonus.  He had begun to feel a physical attraction towards her when he was quite young. By the time he was twelve, it had developed into something more erotic.  She had what can only be called “presence”, and she exuded sensuality.  Once his mother had been ill, and she had taken him to parents’ evening at school.  She had worn her hair brushed back and pinned in a bun, bright red lipstick, a short black dress, and high-heeled over-the-knee boots.  She was not averse to using her charms as a means of disabling criticism.  He had noticed some of his friends staring at her.  Not only the children, but several of the adults were equally unable to conceal their interest.  His maths teacher, shy at the best of times, became almost inarticulate under her questioning.  A droop of the eyelids and an amused, flirtatious, pout of her full lips made him blush and stammer, and apparently forget the name of the child they were supposed to be discussing.
As me moved into his teens, his burgeoning sexual feelings, desperately seeking an outlet, chose to overflow into the nearest and most irresistible vessel – his aunt.  He was still staying over at least twice a week, often more frequently, as his mother was only too happy for Nicole to share the burden.  He had his own room there, with his posters on the wall, and his own desk where he could do his homework.  Nicole looked after him as attentively as his mother, washing his clothes, feeding him healthy food, waking him in the morning, making sure he had done his chores.  But now he was older she maintained an appropriate distance, never straying into the role of a substitute mother or some sort of surrogate platonic girlfriend.  (For a reason Bobby didn’t discover until much later, she was quite used to this sort of personal detachment.)  In other words, she behaved exactly as a good responsible aunt should.  Bobby respected her all the more for this; but the strictly-controlled relationship also honed the edge of his lust!  Being denied any close physical contact was frustrating, so he supplied the deficiency with lurid nighttime imaginings, flowing in and out of dreams, and focussing on the superficial icons of her presence – her semi-fetishistic outfits, and in particular, her penchant for boots of all sorts.


He had noticed that his aunt seemed often to have urgent appointments.  Sometimes she would check her watch and excuse herself – “back in an hour or so darling”.  She didn’t always take the car, and when she didn’t she didn’t always leave by the front gate.  When he asked, it was always “quick meeting with my publisher”, or “meeting up with Sarah for lunch”.  When she was out, he would sometimes sneak into her bedroom and explore her wardrobe or chest of drawers, or admire some of her boots.  Doing so was like a dare he set himself, and the excitement of touching her clothing was enhanced by his nervousness.  Her room was directly at the top of the stairs, and the bottom of the stairs was opposite the front door.  If she came back suddenly and decided to go straight up to her room…what would he do?  He shuddered at the thought, and spent many hours refining his possible excuses – anything from “I was just looking for a pen” to “I thought I saw a mouse run in here”…
It was a Tuesday.  It was half-term, and Bobby was at a loose end.  Just before ten Nicole left for one of her meetings, saying she’d be back sometime after lunch.  She was wearing leather pants, a short leather jacket, and ankle boots.  She took the car, which was a reliable indicator of a lengthy absence.  Bobby gave her fifteen minutes, then crept upstairs.  He had no reason to creep apart from his sense of guilt.  His heart was beating fast, and he was feeling particularly horny that morning, having woken up from a particular vivid dream.  He unlocked the wardrobe door and opened it slowly.  He sighed.  The scent of leather and latex filled his nostrils.  Then his gaze fell upon something new in one corner – a pair of shiny boots on boot-trees – ones he hadn’t seen before.  He knelt and, hands trembling, he drew one out.  He gasped.  These were brand new.  Yes, they were riding-boots, but not like any he had seen before.  He placed the boot on its wooden tree on the floor in front of him.  They were tall of riding-boots.  They would come up well over the knee.  But that wasn’t the main thing.  They were made of heavy, smooth rubber – but instead of the usual black, they were a dull, sensual red! 
“Gosh!  These are…amazing!” he whispered.  “Awesome!”
Now his heart was pounding, his throat tightening with excitement.  Turning it round, he discovered that it laced up at the back.  The edges were bound with eyeletted red leather, through which was threaded a long black leather lace.  He gulped.
“She’s gonna need someone to help lace these up…”  He was almost choking with lust, and his boyhood was already straining at his jeans.  The whole thing was too much for him. 
He lifted the second boot from the wardrobe, and arranged them side by side on the floor.  He tried to imagine his aunt standing before him.  He was overwhelmed with desire.  Stealing a quick glance to the open door on his left, he surrendered to his emotions.  He slowly unzipped his jeans, allowing his stiff coc-k to spring out.  It was already oozing in anticipation.  It was about to drip onto the floor, so he thrust forward and deftly transferred the juices to the left boot, where they trickled slowly down the shiny surface.  The touch of the rubber was cool on the head of his pen-is, but so smooth, making him gasp with pleasure.  There was no going back.  The wooden trees had handles at the top.  He grasped them firmly, holding the boots together, and began to push his overheated prick in between them.  The head slipped up the cleft, coating the insides of the boots with pre-c-um.  He drew back and repeated the movement.  He soon got into a good steady rhythm, eyes closed and biting his lip to prevent himself c-umming too soon.  After a minute or two his juice was flowing freely, trickling down the boots while his thrusts whipped it into a froth.  He revelled in the perverted pleasure of despoiling his aunt’s new boots, and was soon smearing his sticky slime all over the fronts and the feet as well, making as much mess as he possibly could!  He had never had so much fun!

Nicole had had her meeting cancelled when she was half way to her destination.  She had some shopping to do anyway, but when she discovered she had left her credit cards at home, she realised she would have to call back at the house on the way.  She left the car in the road and hurried in through the back gate, kicking off her boots at the door; so Bobby didn’t hear her walk into the hallway or start to climb the stairs.  She was two-thirds of the way up when she caught side on his head, thrown back as if in ecstasy.  She froze.  What was he up to in her room?  She could hear a sort of faint regular plopping sound, like cream being whipped.  She peeped over the landing.  Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in shock.  She was just about to call out, when it occurred to her this was a golden opportunity, much too good to be wasted by a mere scolding. She pulled out her phone, hit video record, and, ducking down behind the stairs, positioned it on the edge of the landing.  By now her naughty nephew was making quite a lot of vocal noise as well.  All to the good, she thought, with a wry smile.  Please don’t notice the phone.  But she needn’t have worried.  Bobby was far too distracted by his little exercise to notice anything.  The performance continued, with occasional pauses, for several minutes, before his moans and gasps reached a sudden crescendo.  Then, “Oh!  Oh”  “Oh…gosh!”   â€œYesss!”  Then another few seconds of silence, a whimper, and the clatter of the boots apparently falling over.  Nicole took this as her cue to retire.  She retreated backwards down the stairs, and tip-toed back into the kitchen at the back of the house.  She put away her phone.  “I’ll check this out later!”  She waited five minutes, then slammed the back door and called out to Bobby.
“Hello?  Bobby?  I’m home, dear.  Where are you?”
She made her way to the foot of the stairs. 
“Are you up there, sweetie?”
He must still be in her room.  Well, she wasn’t going to give him any longer.  She climbed the stairs.
“Bobby?  Are you there?”

Bobby had had time to recover a little, and to fetch a roll of tissue from the bathroom to start cleaning up.  He had wiped the boots, but they were still gleaming with moisture, and he hadn’t had time to put them away.  Hurriedly he mopped the floor, and stuffed the damp tissue into his pocket just before his aunt appeared at the doorway.  She feigned surprise.
“Bobby?  What are you doing in here?”
“Me?  Oh, I….you know, I…”
“And what are you doing with my new boots?”
He had to say something.  In his desperation he could only think of his most improbable excuse.
“Well, you know.  Er, what happened is…”
“Yes?”
“I saw this mouse, see?  He went into your room.  Like he was not very big, sort of little, but…  So then, I came in after him, and I think I saw him go into the wardrobe…”
“But I locked it this morning.”  She was trying not to laugh, and she wanted to see what sort of lame excuse he could come up with about her boots.
“You did?  Yes, maybe…but I’m sure he went towards it, so I thought he could be inside, like, and then if you opened the door and he, like, jumped out, you could be shocked, and so I opened the door, then I, like, saw these boots and thought maybe he could have got inside, so I took them out…”
“They look wet…”
“Yeah, so I put them on the floor, and when I was about to put them back I noticed they’d got dusty from the floor – sorry about that – so I like got some wet tissue and…”
“You cleaned them for me?”
“Yeah…  I mean, I hope that’s all right…”
“Yes.  Bobby, of course it’s all right.  Thank you!  You know I don’t have time to clean all my boots.  I have so many pairs…  I only wish I had someone to do it for me…”
“Do you?  Really?  Let me do it, auntie!  I’d love to help!”
“Bobby, that’s so kind…  But I couldn’t…  You’re so busy with school work, for one thing…”
“Aunt!  I’d love to help you with your boots!  I’d do it really well!  I’d use all the proper creams an’ stuff.  Please let me!”
Nicole looked doubtful.  “Well…only if you’re sure…”
“I am!  Let me show you!  Give me a trial!”
“If you’re serious, then…okay.  Do you really want to be my official little boot boy?”
“Yeah.  I really do!”
“All right, then.  It’s agreed.  You’ve certainly done a good job today.  One thing, though - you’ll have to have an official uniform.  And you must let me pay you.”
“Uniform?”
“Of course.  Otherwise no job.  Agreed?  And I'll pay you ten pounds an hour.”
“Well…okay…  Wow.  What sort of uniform?”
“You’ll see.  It may take a week or two to organise.  You start next week.  This week I’ll give you training.  But you must promise to wear your uniform whenever you’re working – no, in fact, whenever I tell you too.  Is it a deal?”
“Deal!”
“Good boy!  And thank you for cleaning my new boots today.  They look super – so shiny and bright.  I can’t wait to wear them for riding at the weekend…”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 2.

Bobby, stammering thanks, and barely able to contain his embarrassment, backed hurriedly out of his aunt’s room and ran to the bathroom to dispose of the sticky tissue and have a wash.  He was shaking with relief.
“Phew - that was a close one,” he murmured.  “Why did she come back so soon?  I never heard her come in.  I’ll have to be more careful in future.”  He flushed away the tissue and got in the shower, and as he showered he reflected on his adventure.  “Thank goodness she didn’t look too closely at those boots!  S’pose she’d realised!  What would I have done then?”  But then he relaxed a little and grinned to himself.  “She’s gonna wear them Saturday.  What would her friends think if they discovered why they were so nice and shiny?  Yes, I think I’ll ask if I can go with her.  I can take some pics of her wearing her spunky boots!  What a laugh!”  He frowned.  “But I wonder where she bought them?  I’ve never seen riding boots like that anywhere!  She’s gonna look something mounted on her horse with those things right up to her thighs.  Makes me shiver to think about it…”
In her bedroom Nicole had locked the door, put in her earphones, and sat down to watch the show she had recorded.  She started the video as was soon transfixed by what she was seeing.
“Why, that rude little puppy!” she whispered.  “I thought I knew some perverts all right, but he’s the worst!  He’s really enjoying himself, the little scamp – having a great time!  I wonder what’s going on in his mind…  I think I can guess.  He’s getting me back for being strict with him.  I bet he’s thinking something like, ‘Ha, ha, look at what I’m doing to my dear auntie’s best boots.  I wonder what she’d say if she could see me now!  Well, auntie, just wait a bit, cos I’m gonna cover your cool new boots with gallons of nice creamy c-um!’ 
The climax, when it came, was pretty spectacular all right.  Wad after wad of Bobby’s pent-up sperm splattering against the rubber and rolling down in sticky rivulets onto the floor.  Nicole recoiled in horror.  “That’s totally gross!”  Her face paled in anger.  “Just you wait, Bobby Tucker.  You’ll pay for this!”  She gave a short laugh.  “You have no idea how many pairs of boots I actually have.  You’re going to be spending a lot of time on your knees from now on.  And not pleasuring yourself – I’ll make sure of that!  No, young sir.  I’m going to train you until you’re the best boot boy in town.  You’re going to be so good that every lady with a pair of boots is going to demand your services!  You won’t have any more spare time, sweetie, and you’re going to regret the day you thought you could take advantage of your Aunt Nicole!”

Nicole was right - Bobby had no idea about the range of boots she could boast of – because most of them were stored downstairs in the basement, an area which was only accessible via a small external door and a hidden door in a locked boxroom under the stairs.  From the presence of the external door Bobby had suspected the house had a cellar, but Nicole had always dismissed it with some remark about it being a small storage room full of boxes and cobwebs.  Little did he know…

Training started the very next day.  Bobby rushed his breakfast, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door.
“See you later, auntie!”
“Wait!  And where do you think you’re going?”
He half-turned and looked at her, surprised.  “You know…  I’m gonna meet my mates, and…”
“No you’re not.”
“Er…  Sorry?”
“Boot training starts today.  Two hours every morning while you’re on holiday.”
“But…”
“You agreed to this, remember?”
“But my mates…”
“Ring them and tell them you’ll be a little bit late.  Now, follow me.  Everything’s ready for you.”
Bobby’s face fell, but he knew better than to question his aunt’s instructions, so he trotted after her.  She led him to the utility room next to the kitchen.  Against the far wall she had lined up four pairs of boots – rubber riding boots, fashionable high-heeled leather knee-boots, leather thigh-boots with zip-up backs, and vinyl thigh books with lace-up backs.  In front of them was a kneeling mat, two pairs of rubber gloves, and a case neatly packed with bottles and jars and tins of cleaning materials, a range of brushes, and various cloths.  Bobby stared at the array in some surprise.  He looked at his aunt, smiling sweetly at him, and back to the display. 
“What…?  I have to clean…all those?”
“Yes.  I’m not going to give you any help or advice.  It’s a sort of test of your ingenuity.  You’ll have to work it all out for yourself.  I want to see how competent a cleaner you’re going to be.  Read the instructions carefully and you’ll soon discover which product is best for which material.  I want all those boots thoroughly cleaned and gleaming within two hours.  Then you can go out.  So that’ll be…let’s see…eleven-fifteen.  But you won’t be able to leave until they’re all done.  Oh, and by the way, you’ll need to take out that lacing and clean it separately and then re-thread it.  It that all clear?”
“I s’pose so…”
“If you make a mess of things I’ll have to find another boy to be my boot boy.”
“No way!  I’ll do a good job, auntie.  Don’t worry.  Don’t bring any other kids in here!”
“I hope so.  On the whole I think I’d prefer you as my boot boy.  Though you should know, there’s quite a queue for the position if you fail…”
He stared at her.  “What does that mean?  A queue…?”
But all he got by way of reply was a wry smile.  Then she turned and left him alone with his task.

[sissy marci]

Great beginning, can't wait to learn about his uniform

[Simonssister]

Chapter 3.

This unexpected turn of events left Bobby flustered, and for several minutes he descended into a state of panic, like a student presented with an incomprehensible exam paper.  In such cases the remedy is to calm down, read the paper, and use it to build confidence.  Which is just what Bobby knew he had to do.  He read the instructions on all the containers, and placed each opposite its appropriate boots.  There was only one cleaner for the vinyl boots, a mild detergent which had to be mixed with water, so, having removed the long leather lace and waxed it, he dealt with those first.  The leather boots had to be brushed first to remove any dirt and dust, then treated with oily creams and set aside for an hour.  The rubber riding boots he first washed and dried.  For these it appeared there were two possible treatments – liquid polish, which would give a high-gloss finish, or a fine talc-um, which would yield a dull, rich glow.  He opted for the second, cleaning the seams with a small brush and polishing the rubber with a soft cloth until it shone.  He was so intent on doing a good job, and was enjoying the work so much, he even forgot to get excited.  It was only later, as he buffed the leather boots into a supple, subtle shine, that he realised that they would soon be encasing his aunt’s strong, slender calves, and felt his erection growing at the thought.

While this was going on upstairs, Nicole had entered the room beneath the stairs, produced a key, and opened the hidden door.  She threw a switch, and a flight of wooden stairs was revealed.  She descended fifteen steps and clicked another switch.  A row of three chandeliers flickered into life, revealing in their subdued light a long, high-ceilinged room, extending away clearly beyond the footprint of the house itself.  This huge cellar was the reason she had bought the house in the first place.  The chandeliers left many of the walls and corners in darkness, but there were spotlight or floodlight fitments at intervals around the walls that were presumably intended to illuminate individual areas.  In the gloom there were also glimpses of steel and leather equipment, cupboards, and racks of strange artifacts.  Nicole crossed to the far wall and turned on a small floodlight.  A glittering gold throne blazed into view, raised on a dais of polished wood, with lion heads on the arm-rests and the horned head of some warrior-like female divinity at the apex of the high back.  To the left a series of chains, graded by link-size, hung from a hooked rack, and on the right a similar rack held a variety of whips and canes.  Next to the chain-rack was a heavy double-doored cupboard, probably of oak, and to this Nicole went.  She opened one door, revealing a row of boots, of all types and lengths, thigh boots to ankle boots, flat heels to the tallest blocks and steel stilettos.  She smiled and nodded in satisfaction.
“These should keep him busy,” she murmured, “till it’s time to teach him the real meaning of obedience…”

Upstairs, Bobby was feeling pleased with himself.  It was only five past eleven, and he only had to rethread the leather lace into the vinyl thigh-boots and he would be finished.  He had just completed that task when Nicole reappeared.
“I’ve finished, aunt.”
“Already?  Let me have a look.”  She squatted down and examined her boots.  She hadn’t expected much of Bobby, and she was genuinely impressed.  She caressed the soft leather of her fashion boots.  “You’ve really done a very good job, Bobby.  Well done!  Wow.  I can see I won’t have to look any further for a boot-boy.  You’re a natural!”
She stood up.  His face was flushed with pride.
“Here.  You deserve to be paid for this.  You’ll need a bit more training, but I reckon in a week…”
She handed over two ten pound notes.
“Wow!  Thanks, auntie!”
“I wasn’t going to start paying you yet, but you’ve earned it.  Now off you go and meet your friends.  And have a good day.  Let me know when you’re likely to be home and I’ll have your dinner ready.”

As the door slammed behind him, Nicole was pouring herself a glass of dry white wine.  She sat down on the sofa.
“He’s quite something.  Cute and able.  I hope his uniform arrives soon.  I wonder…”
But at that moment the her phone rang. 
“Hello?  Hello, Lavinia.  Yes, I can be…anytime this afternoon…two thirty till…?  Okay, four. An hour and a half then.  No problem.  Always room for my favourite client…  See you then, darling.”
Nicole entertained male and female clients.  She had earned herself quite a name with the girls.  They needed her services just as much as the boys.  Lavinia was one of her horsey friends, and a long-standing regular.  Every now and then she got herself into a state – it could be anger or sheer frustration – and needed a quick fix.  Through her Nicole had made contact with several other female clients, including two of the stable girls from Fleetford stables where she rode and had horses.  For the less well-heeled visitors she always charged low rates, especially when they were people she liked.  She no longer needed to work as hard as she did in the old days, and could pick and choose her clients.  She loved her work.  Being totally in control always gave her a thrill.  One day, she thought, who knows?  Bobby might find himself in her dungeon kneeling at her feet – or at her boots, to be more precise.  But for now she was confident she could tame adequately him upstairs.  She smiled a self-congratulatory smile.

Out with his mates, Bobby was rather distracted.
“What’s up with you today, Bobby?  Won the lottery or sumfink?”
“Yeah, right.  What is it?  Grinning like an idiot all the time.”
“Oh, nothing really…  Just that my aunt gave me some dosh, that’s all.”
“Yeah?  Ice creams on you then, mate.”
His best friend Arthur looked sideways at him.
“Your aunt…  She must have some dough, yeah?  I mean, that house…and she doesn’t have a proper job, does she?”
“What does she do, Bobby?”
“Er, I think she’s like, a writer of something…  I’m not sure…”
"She pretty cool, anyway..."

But of course Aunt Nicole did have a job, and at that precise moment she was heavily engaged in her work.  Lavinia was strapped face-down to a padded bench, struggling against her bonds, and swearing loudly at her tormentor.
“fuc-k you, bitch!” she was screaming.  “Let me out of here.  Now!  You just wait, you sadistic cow!  I’ll…  I’ll…”
“Save your breath, slut.”  As she buckled on the leather strap-on, she regarded Lavinia’s buttocks, criss-crossed with red weals from the dressage whip, with satisfaction.  She made sure it was secure and tight, lubricated the firm rubber dil-do, and pressed it gently against her client’s exposed pussy.  Lavinia moaned faintly, all her bravado suddenly evaporating.
“Please…  fuc-k me hard, miss…”
“Don’t worry about that…”

At the end of the session, the two women relaxed exhausted on an exercise mat against the wall.  Lavinia’s head was resting on Nicole’s shoulder.
“God, I feel so much better.  You really know how to get to me…”
“I do too, Lavvy.  Why do I enjoy fuc-king you so much?”
Lavinia laughed.  “Because you’re a total pervert?  Talking of which, what was that you said about hiring a boot cleaner?  Is it someone I know?”
“Well, sort of.  I found my nephew Bobby taking his pleasure on my new riding boots.  Seems like he has a thing about boots – mine, at least.  So I’m going to train him up.  I might let you see him once he’s got his new uniform.”
“Uniform?  What sort of uniform…?”
“You’ll see.  Simple but cute.  Pink, to go with his big blue eyes and blond hair.”
“Ooh, that I want to see.  He already looks so cute just as he is.  But will you be able to persuade him…?  I mean, he’s all boy, isn’t he?”
“Hmm.  When I’ve finished with him there definitely won’t be any doubt about that!”
“You’re lucky.  I wish he were mine.  I’d make him my housemaid.”
Nicole turned her head and stared at her.  “Would you?  That’s not a bad idea.  I’ve just realised, with what I have on him, I can do anything I want, can't I?  Thanks, Lavvy!”
“Don’t thank me – just lend him to me occasionally…”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 4.

Over the course of the following week, Nicole gave Bobby some detailed training in his new profession.  Half-term was over, so he came round after school every day to be instructed in such niceties as: cleaning eyelets with pipe-cleaners; the correct method of using liquid rubber polish; removing mud from leather boots and rubber boots, including the correct brushes for removing dirt from stitching; how to wash soles without getting water on the uppers; when to use a brush and when to use a cloth to apply leather creams; and so on.  She had given him his own note book to record all this information.  She had stuck a printed label on the front cover: “Bobby’s Boot-Boy Training Manual”, and insisted he carried it with him so he could revise, which stipulation made him rather nervous someone in school might notice it.  But fortunately for him, no-one discovered his secret.

The latex elements of his uniform – the pants and the gloves -  arrived on Saturday morning.  Nicole already had the rest, save the little bomber jacket for outside wear which was still being embroidered.  She was about to go riding, and was wearing the boots Bobby had so thoughtfully cleaned for her.  He had asked if she minded him watching her today at the stables.  Of course she agreed.  And then he was due to visit Nicole that evening for supper, and to stay over, so it was good timing.  Nicole laid out his outfit on her bed.  She hadn’t wanted anything too elaborate, in case it put him off.  So she had focussed on simplicity and comfort.  New red trainers – cool expensive ones, which she knew he’d love – a matching baseball cap, with the words “BOOT BOY” embroidered in neon pink both back and front – in case he decided to wear it backwards.  A bright pink T-shirt with “BOOT BOY” printed across the chest in bright red letters, short enough so it would barely cover his tummy-button, and matching short socks.  And the pièce de rĂŠsistance  – a pair of beautiful pink latex hot pants, with “BOOT BOY” in bold red letters moulded in across the butt!  These had been ordered from her favourite latex clothing supplier, who was used to providing her with custom-made items.  Nicole had ordered these in medium weight latex – not too thick so that it wouldn’t constrict his freedom – and had ordered them a half-size too small, so they would fit him snugly.  She had specified a red waistband and tight red frills at the legs, to match the overall colour-scheme.  And she had requested one other modification: welded onto the inside of the crotch was a small loop of latex ribbon.  Nicole, conscious that the fine, close-fitting hot pants would leave very little to the imagination, had decided to turn the unavoidable to advantage.  The loop would fit around the base of Bobby’s boyhood, keeping it nice and firm and roughly vertical, and his little balls symmetrical.  Given he would be polishing ladies’ boots wearing taut, slick rubber pants, she couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t be aroused.  So if it was inevitable that he was going to be sporting an erection, better that it should look neat and tidy.  The last thing she wanted was a boot boy of hers with his thing waving about all over the place, especially when she introduced him to her friends.  No, he needed to maintain a professional composure at all times.  If he had to get all hot and bothered, that was his affair, but outwardly it was vital he stay prim and proper, and focus purely on his work.  The final touch was a pair of short red latex gloves, matching the red latex on his pants.   
“Yes, he will probably need a few more days training in self-discipline,” she mused, as she smeared a few drops of lubricant onto the inside of the pants.  “He needs to learn to concentrate and control himself at all times.  And I think I know how to teach him…”
As she said this, her hand closed unconsciously around the handle of her riding whip.  Then she stood up, went downstairs, and departed.

[Simonssister]

Chapter 5.

Nicole drove to the Fleetford Stables and Riding School and parked her car in the car park.  Her friend Sarah had just arrived.  It was a warm day, and she was wearing shiny blue silicone full seat breeches and a little vest.  Nicole smiled.  She wouldn’t have minded having her over her lap for a good hard spanking, but Sarah was if anything the other way inclined.  Never mind.  Nicole guessed she be first in line for a loan of her new toy.
“Hi Sarah.”
“Hi Nicole.  How are you?  Are those new boots I see?  They’re rather sexy, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I hope they are – that was the intention!”
They sniggered like schoolgirls, and turned towards the stables.  Nicole saw that Fiona, one of the stable girls, was already saddling her horse, Maxim, a lovely tall chestnut with white feet.  She waved, and Fiona waved back.  Then she saw Bobby, standing behind Maxim.
“Ah.  There he is.”
“Who?  Oh, isn’t that your nephew?  What’s he doing here?”
“Come to see his handiwork, Sarah.”
“Handiwork?  What’s he done, then?”
“He cleaned my boots for me.”
“Cleaned your boots?  Really?  How did you persuade him to do that?  Will he clean mine if I ask him?”
“I’m sure he would,” she laughed.  “The little pervert would be only too pleased!”
“What?  What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
But Sarah looked alarmed.  “What do you mean, “pervert”?  You know he has a crush on my Chrissy.  You’d better tell me what’s going on.”
“Don’t worry, he’s not going to mess with your daughter.  He has a little fetish, that’s all.  It’s quite sweet, really.  But I’m going to exploit it.  Wait till we’re out of the stables.”
“Now he’s staring at you, Nicole.  Don’t tell me he’s fallen for you!  Now he taking photos, see?  What’s going on?  Tell me!”

But Sarah had to wait until they were out of the stables and riding on the heath.  Nicole told her the first part of the story. 
“So then I ducked down and rested my phone on the landing.  So, want to see what he was doing?”
“Hand it over…now…”
“Here you go.  Don’t you dare tell anyone, though.”
“I won’t, Nicole, promise…” 
They reined in their mounts and let them graze.  Sarah took the phone and started the video.  As she watched her mouth fell open and her eyes widened.  She watched it to the end, then stared at Nicole, quite speechless.
Nicole couldn’t help laughing.  “Well?  What do you think?”
“He…he…I mean, that’s…just, like, unbelievable!  I thought he was such a nice boy!  But after seeing that…”
“He’s a teenager, Sarah, bursting with hormones and nowhere for them to go…”
“Well he certainly found somewhere that day, didn’t he?  So…did you tell him off…or what did you do?  I would have given him a good hard spanking, and told his mother!”
“Nothing.  He has no idea I saw him, let alone filmed him.  It was hilarious.  He was so embarrassed.  He pretended to have been cleaning my boots, so I just thanked him, and let him think I’d seen nothing.”
“So…that’s why he’s here…he’s come to see you wearing the boots in public that he covered with c-um, right?”
“I guess so.”
“And he thinks you don’t know…”
“I’m sure he thinks I don’t know.”
“So what’s he going to do with the photos?  Show his mates?  Or are they just…”
“To entertain himself?  I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Nicole!  That’s totally gross!  How could you allow him to…well, you know…  What would Chrissy think if she saw that video?”
“Actually, that’s a point,” mused Nicole.  “If she saw it, she’d probably tell the whole school.  He’d be finished.  That’s worth remembering…”
“So you’re just going to let him get away with it?”
“Not at all.  Don’t worry.  I have a plan.”
“What plan?”
Nicole grinned.  “After he told me he’d cleaned my boots, I offered him a job as my personal boot boy.  Well, you know I’ve got quite a collection, and I could use the help.”
“And he went for it?”
“Of course.  He couldn’t believe his luck.”
“But surely, he’ll just use it as an excuse to abuse all your boots!”
“Sarah, darling, he won’t get the chance.  I’m going to make sure he’s supervised.  I’m going to have one of the spare rooms renovated and made into my boot room.  There’ll be twenty-four hour CCTV coverage.  But best of all, I’m going to dress him in the cutest little uniform with sweet little pink rubber pants, so I can watch him get all worked up and not be able to do a thing about it.  When I have him fully trained as an obedient little boot boy, I’m going to lend him to my friends or rent him out to anyone who needs him.  Believe me, this is going to be the best punishment.  What good would a spanking have done?  This will keep him occupied for years, and it’ll be fun for me too.”
“But if he refuses…?”
“I’ll crack the whip a little.  If that fails, I’ll show him the video.  I’ll tell him I’ve given it to you and you want to show Chrissy.”
“Yes, I see….  You’re not a dominatrix for nothing, are you, dear?”
Nicole smiled, coyly.
Sarah handed back the phone, and the ladies trotted on. 
“So when can I see his uniform?” she asked, eagerly.  “Let me help, Nicole, won’t you?  I’d love to have the little scamp grovelling at my feet.  I’d give him what for, all right.”
“Sure.  You’re second in the queue after Lavinia.  She wants him as her maid, I think.”
“Yeah?  That’s a great idea!  Let’s form a club!  Ladies in Boots!  We can hand him round.  Make his life hell!”
“Sarah, really.  What a perverted suggestion!  I’m shocked.”  She paused.  “I mean, we’d have to ask Lavvy, but…that’s not a bad idea, actually…”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 6.

When Nicole went home that afternoon, she decided to leave her riding clothes on.  She was wearing her favourite beige breeches.  She changed her shirt for a pastel blue roll-neck stretch top which emphasized her breasts, and her dirty riding boots for high-heeled ankle boots.
“He can clean those after I’ve got him into his uniform,” she thought.

He turned up early, just after four.  He looked flushed and excited.
“Hello, Bobby.  I saw you at the stables this morning.  I didn’t say hello – you seemed to be too busy taking photos.”
“Oh, er…yes…that’s right.  I photographed the horses…”
“Oh.  I thought you might take a snap of me…and perhaps Sarah…”
“Oh, er, yes, I did…”
“Can I see them?”
“I er…”
“They’re on your phone, right?”  She held out her hand.  He didn’t really have any choice.
There were two photos of horses, and at least twenty or thirty of her and Sarah, focussing mainly on their butts and their boots.  He turned bright red.
“Hmm.  I see…”
“I didn’t get the angles I wanted…  It was difficult, you were like moving about a lot…and then you got mounted and rode off…”
“Nice photos, anyway.  Can I send them to myself?  I’d like to show Sarah…”
“Er, no, I’d rather you didn’t…  They’re not that good…”
“Oh, well.  I’ll have them anyway.  There we go.  Now, Bobby.  You’ll be pleased to hear your indoor uniform has arrived.  Come upstairs and try it on.”
He followed her up to the bedroom.  He looked around, warily, spotted the things on the bed, did a double take, and began to back away.
“No don’t be shy.  Take everything off and put on your uniform.  Be careful with the pants.  They were quite expensive.  But they should slip on quite easily.  Call me when you’re dressed.”
“But I’m not sure…”
“Do it, please, Bobby.  I’ve gone to a lot of trouble.  If you want to work for me, you’re going to need to be properly turned out.”
“But I didn’t think it would be that sort of uniform…”
“What do you mean?  What sort of uniform?  I put a lot of thought and effort into this.  Please don’t make me angry, Bobby.  Just put it on as you’ve been asked.”
His aunt could be quite scary at times.  “I’m sorry, aunt, okay, I’ll put it on now.”
“That’s better.”

It took him a good fifteen minutes.  Nicole guessed he was looking at himself in the mirror, horrified.  At last she heard a faint voice.
“Auntie?  I’m dressed…”
She opened the door and walked in.  He was standing with his back to the window, rubber-gloved hands clasped in front of him, his cap slanted to one side, his trainers unlaced.  She suppressed the urge to laugh, and maintained a serious face.
“Right, let me see…  Yes, you look really good…  Everything fits properly.  Look at yourself in the wardrobe mirror.  Don’t you like it?”
“I like the trainers…”
“And the rest?”
“The cap’s cool…”
“The pants are very smart, don’t you think?”
“They’re not very comfortable…  Why are they made of…rubber?”
“Latex?  Because it’s flexible for when you have to kneel, and it can easily be cleaned if you accidentally get polish or something on it, and it looks very smart.  Bobby, take your hands away, please.  Ah, I see the problem.  You haven’t got everything in place.  Now, stand still, please.  I’ll pull the waistband open.  Don’t worry, I won’t look!  Now, do you see a loop right down in the crotch?”
“Y-yes, I think so…”
“Well you need to open it up and thread all your parts through.”
“S-sorry?”
“Hold it open with one hand – go on – now put everything through – everything – done that?”
“Er…”
“Have you done that?”
“Er…yes…”
“Good…  Now let go of the loop so that it snaps back behind everything….”
Snap!  “Ow!”
“Good boy!  There you are.  That’s how they’re supposed to be worn.  Remember always to do that.  It’ll keep everything neat and tidy.  Now, let’s see…let’s straighten your cap…  That’s better.”  She knelt down.  “Now your little socks…  And tie you shoes…  There.  The gloves fit you perfectly, don’t they?  I’ll just check your pants again…”
Nicole fussed with the leg frills, and  adjusted the waistband till the side seams were nice and straight.  She was delighted to observe his little balls were now neatly positioned side by side, and that his member was beginning to swell and slide up vertically under its lubricated latex skin.  She turned him around and smiled to see the bright lettering across his butt, gave him a little pat, and turned him back again.
“Keep your hands by your sides, please!  I’m trying to make sure your pants are nice and straight.”
She fussed with the frills a little more, tugging at one then the other as if trying to make them level.  What she was actually doing making the latex chafe against his steadily-growing boyhood.  This subterfuge, combined with constricting effect of the latex loop, soon brought him to full tumescence, and from her kneeling position she was able to observe the result at close quarters.  His pen-is, when fully erect, produced a vertical, flattened, sausage-shaped mound an impressive five inches tall.  It’s contours, especially the swollen head, were faithfully delineated under the fine rubber, and every now and then it would twitch with pleasure.
“Bobby!  Don’t slouch!  Stand up straight, please!”
Nervously, he pulled himself to attention, making it slide upwards another inch.  Nicole drew a deep breath.  She guessed that by now it must be oozing freely, and that both the latex and Bobby’s tummy would be equally slick and slippery.  This was even better than she had hoped.  There would be no going back for him, and the longer she kept him in this outfit, the more of his c-um would end up in his pants and the less there would be available to defile her boots!  Moreover he would become irresistible to her friends and acquaintances, and he’d be in such demand that he’d be obliged to surrender himself to a life of boot cleaning and servitude!  He would surely become a slave, not only to women, but to the pleasure of serving them, to their affection, and to the sensual delights of tight latex!

She stood up.  Bobby looked at her, a hint of reproach in his expression, but with the realisation he was totally in her power.
“Right, Bobby.  Time for some photos, I think.  Let’s go into the garden.”
“Auntie…?”
She picked up a riding whip.  “Shush, my little boot boy.  Just follow me and do as you’re told and we’ll get on fine.”
He followed meekly behind and she descended the stairs.  Once outside she made him stand on an old tree stump, and sat and relaxed in a garden chair and videoed him.  Once on this rural pedestal his humiliation provoked the most amusing narrative, as he squirmed, pressed his thighs together, touched himself, then hurriedly took his hand away, looked up, down and every which way, took his erection in hand again and quickly released it, blushed crimson, bit his lip, adjusted his cap, took hold of his leg frills, weaved his gloved fingers together, put one in his mouth like a naughty six-year-old, glanced down fearfully at his embarrassingly conspicuous erection, gasped, looked as though he was about to cry, then as if he were about to c-um.  Nicole didn’t have to do anything; he put on this delightful show all by himself.  But finally she decided it was time to take control. 
“Now turn around and waggle your butt, Bobby.  That’s it.  More – I want to see what’s written on your bum.  Good!  Now look over your shoulder and smile.  Smile!  And stop playing with yourself!  I know what you’re up to!  If you want to do that, turn round and show me.  What’s the matter?  Too shy?  Oh, dear.  Come on, do it.  Just for me.  Please?  You know you want to.   Look how big and stiff it is!  Wouldn’t you really like to c-um?  It would only take a little squeeze…  Yes, go on…I don’t mind…you’ll feel so much better…that’s right…show me what a big boy you are, yes?  Show me how much spunk you have…  Then afterwards I’ll give you a big cuddle, and we’ll have a pizza and we can sit down and watch…”
Whether it was the mention of the pizza…but suddenly Bobby stuck his left hand in his mouth, and with the right grabbed his erection.  His body jolted into orgasm.   â€œAhhhh!  Auntie!  I’m…  I’m c-umming!!”
“Bobby!  Good boy!”  Nicole concentrated on holding her phone still, whilst at the same time shouting encouragement.  “That’s it – squeeze it gently.  Get all that lovely c-um out, every drop.  Try to stand up straight, please…  Just a little while longer…  It’ll soon be over…  That’s so clever!  My best little boot boy!  Don’t move – auntie will come and carry you inside.  Good boy!”
Bobby had subsided, gasping,  He dropped to his knees on the tree-stump.  Nicole approached, still filming.  She zoomed in on his face, then panned down to his hot pants.  Sperm was bubbling out under the frills, and trickling down his thighs.  His eyes were closed and he looked as if he might fall off the stump.  Nicole put her phone on the grass, picked him up in her arms, and carried him inside.  She lay him on the sofa, put a blanket over him, and kissed him softly on the cheek.  She knelt down and whispered in his ear.
“Bobby, darling, that was amazing.  I always knew you were a sweet boy, but before today I didn’t realise how incredibly sexy you are too.  And it turns out, despite your shyness, that you really love your new hot pants.  Don’t worry, darling, you're going to have plenty of opportunities to show off your outfit and your assets.  All the ladies are going to love you.  So rest for now, and tomorrow we’ll make our plans for your future...”
Then she rose, and returned to the garden to collect her phone.