Rhys Jenner. Signing up

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Hi Everyone

   Ok so I was gonna pop in, lay something out for today and then answer emails' and stuff.Well I gotta say that did not come off because the following post has taken me 3 hours to get on line, because Blogger has mucked about with the way things are done, so I can no longer just copy and paste,Everything is done one image and space of text at a time. So if the following amazing story by Skinnie S seems a little disjoined it is for that reason and not because Skinnie has lost the plot

 This is an amazing piece based on the Rhys Jenner stories over on Patreon.

  Please enjoy this story,becasue it has taken a lot of work to get up.

I could have left it but it is so good I just had to get it done.

Thanks S

XXX

Andy

and for those who do not know Solva is in Wales, Why is Rhys from Solva?   That 's for me to know 😉XXXX

Rhys Jenner: Signing up

1. Life in Solva

Rhosalyn Jenner worried about her boy.  Rhys’s birthday was coming up next week and yet he seemed listless.  It was a huge contrast from the Rhys who’d come back from London with Anwen two weeks ago.   Then he’d had a spring in his step and chattered endlessly about their visit to Bergman and Knightley.  It had even replaced his usual talk about Sabrina Carpenter and Ellis Mee.  He said very little about his overnight stay in the Premier Inn with Anwen and blushed when Rhos enquired.   Anwen also said little but had a twinkle in her eye whenever London was mentioned.   

Both Rhys and Anwen talked about the wondrous range of dresses and outfits at Bergman and Knightley.  They made it sound like Aladdin’s Cave to Rhos or a brilliant neon lit palace.   They talked about the helpful and pretty counter staff.   Anwen also mentioned that there was a competition that Rhys was keen to enter but had been put off because the entry fee was so high.   He’d spent his money on a pair of latex knickers and didn’t have enough cash left after paying for the trip and the unexpected London prices for their food and drink.

Rhys had gone back to college and his Saturday morning job at the Library.  Rhos could tell he was finding it mundane after the bright lights of London.  He’d stopped going out, not even to the Rugby Club for a shandy or two with the lads after their practice.   He’d taken to moping in his room, listening to music.  A few days ago when collecting laundry from his bedroom, Rhos found a glossy leaflet that he’d brought back with him.  Rhos fingered the paper.  It was slightly damp and flecked with tears.   Its header read: B&K Boys Will Be Girls competition.   Rhos read the details.   She could see why Rhys was sad that he’d been unable to enter: winning would open up a whole new world for him.   She checked the details.   Competition held every two years.  Entry cost one hundred pounds.    She guessed that Rhys was trying to save up.    Closing date for entries the first of August.   Entries to be submitted in store, presumably, she thought, to weed out the no-hopers.

Now she understood why Rhys was so sad.   It was the twenty-second of July.  In a week he’d be old enough to enter the competition,  but he’d never save up enough in time.  Not to pay the entry fee and his train travel to London.  Two years would be a long time to wait before he got another chance.   A lot could change in two years, not that very much did in Solva.

After putting on the washing,  Rhos sat down for a coffee and looked at the leaflet again.   £100 was a lot of money, and there would the travel cost on top.  Even going to the nearest Bergman and Knightley store in Bath wouldn’t help much.   It would help a little but not enough.   Rhos cursed that Bergman and Knightley hadn’t yet opened a branch in Wales.   Surely Cardiff or Swansea deserved a store.   There was one in Edinburgh after all.  

Rhos fetched her bank book from the kitchen drawer.  She checked the balance and the payments due.   Provided the washing machine didn’t break down or the roof start leaking, she reckoned she could make things stretch.    And she still hadn’t bought Rhys anything for his birthday.   She settled down and started to plan her trip.

2. Bath Time

Rhos kept things quiet.   She was dressed and ready to leave before Rhys came down to make his lunchtime sandwich.   All she said was that she was going out for the day.   She made it sound like another ladies outing.  She’d sometimes gone on coach trips with the Solva Guild so Rhys didn’t see anything unusual.   Sometimes she’d go shopping with Anwen in Pembroke or even Swansea.  Rhys envied those trips.    She didn’t tell Rhys that she wouldn’t be back till tomorrow.    That could come in a call later.

Rhys wasn’t paying attention.  If he had, he’d have noticed that his mother was dressed smartly: too smart for a trip with the Guild ladies.  If she was going to Bergman and Knightley for the first time and representing Rhys, Rhos wanted to look her best.   She’d put on her blazer, silk blouse and tight denim jeans with her knee high black boots, and dug out her rope of pearls, fake of course, to complete the effect.   She wanted to look the part of a sophisticated B&K shopper even if the store was way beyond her price bracket.

She dropped her bag at the cheap hotel she’d selected near Bath station.  It was only a short walk from there to the store.   Rhos didn’t spend time looking in the window: she’d heard enough from Rhys and Anwen to know what to expect, or so she thought.   She was relieved to see near the entrance that a competition poster was still up.   She tried to look nonchalant as she walked through the doors.    She wandered round the floor, her eyes growing wider with every step.  She realised that however much Rhys and Anwen had extolled the beauty of the Bergman and Knightley store in London, being in one in real-life was even better.   She’d never been anywhere like it in her life before.   She could see why some people became devoted customers …. if they had the money.

Initially she couldn’t find what she was looking for but that didn’t worry her.   She had all afternoon and she wanted to make the most of her time here.  Simply being in the store was making her feel different.   Moistly different as she walked past racks of pants and dresses, brushing her fingers against latex and PVC as she passed.   She was looking for a stand advertising the B&K Boys Will Be Girls competition.   Instead, what she saw was one saying FACE of Bergman & Knightley.  A couple of attractive blonde girls stood beside a desk and placard wearing what she realised was the standard B&K uniform of simple short sleeved white shirt and tight latex below the knee pencil skirt.   Rhos quite fancied one of those hobble skirts for herself but dreaded to think what it would cost.

The girls had been observing Rhos for some time.   She was trying to look like she was browsing but

they could see that her eyes being drawn to their promotional poster and little stand.  She'd wandered across and even grabbed one of the little folders but didn't linger to talk.   She went back to the racks but they could see her surreptitiously reading the flyers inside.   She looked interested.

They resisted approaching her.   This was not the time for the hard sell.   That might come later.   She was obviously a lady of style in her tailored blazer, tight jeans and knee length boots.  Her boots had a comfortable heel height but with a nice buckle trim.   A substitute for a spur they wondered.  The biggest giveaway was her pearls. Nothing spoke understated opulence like multiple ropes of pearls.  Nothing signalled a lady of refined  tastes than a pearl necklace.  A thick pearl necklace.  Ladies of her quality deserved a pearl necklace.  Ladies of her quality loved a thick pearl necklace adorning them.  The hard sell might come when they wanted her out of those jeans and into some nice PVC pants.

They waited.   

Rhos was still staring at the poster.    The girls smiled at her.  Softly, softly.....

She came across.  She spoke.  "Good morning."  

"Good morning, Madam."

"I was wondering about this competition of yours?"

"Yes, Madam?"

Other customers came and asked for details.   Most took a flyer but were put off: the entry requirements were high and the competition challenging.  

"It's about the age range?"

"Yes, Madam.  It's all on the forms."

"I know.  But my Rhys is only sixteen at the moment."  

Rhys.   The girls felt reassured.  At least this wasn't another mother or aunt trying to nominate a daughter or niece.   B&K had standards and traditions to uphold.  "That may not be an issue, madam.   It's about age on the closing date for the competition.   How old will Rhys be on the first of August?”

“He'll have just turned seventeen.   His birthday is on the thirtieth.”

Both girls were enchanted by Rhos’ soft Welsh accent.  “Oh, that would be fine then.   Do you think he’d want to enter?  He’s just got time.   By the way, my name’s Francesca and this is Simone,” said the girl with the ponytail.

“Thank you Francesca, I know he would but I see it says you need to apply in person.  Rhys  won’t be able to get a B&K store in the next days.   Do you think I could apply on his behalf?”

“Oh, that would be fine,” said Simone.  “A lot of mothers submit applications on behalf of their sons or nephews.”

“Well, we do prefer in person applications,” interjected Francesca, but if you have a photograph of Rhys that you can show us , I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Yes, sure,” said Rhos pulling out her phone.  She clicked the power button to bring up her screen saver  

“That’s absolutely fine, Madam,” said Simone.   “My isn’t he pretty.  Would you like a form?”

“Yes, please,” said Rhos, “I found you don’t include it in the folder.  And a pen, please,”   She added.   “Thank you.”

Rhos was silent while she read the front cover. Francesca and Simone continued to hover. “It says that entries can also be considered as applications to be a B&K Boy. I’m circling that. Rhys would love that.”

“Yes, Madam, sorry, Rhosalyn.”

Rhos turned to the first page of the form and started writing. She paused after a while in slight shock. “It’s asking about his Virginity. I really don’t know.” “You can write ‘Don’t Know’ if you want but do you think he’s been with anyone?” “I’m not sure. I think he may have with my friend Anwen when they went to London together.” “It sounds like that’s a Yes,” said Simone. “Ok. And what does it mean: ‘Orientation Preference’?” “I know this may be a bit awkward for you, but do you think he made love to Anwen or vice versa.” Rhos laughed. “Rhys and Anwen! There’s only one way that would have gone. Anwen has been fancying Rhys for quite a while.” “Sounds like you know your friend almost as well as your son.” Rhos shuffled awkwardly. “Yes, for a while. So I guess that means I need to circle ‘Bottom’.” “And if you think they got up to any hanky- panky that would have taken his Virginity, you probably need to circle ‘Receive’ too,” added Simone as Francesca gave her a knowing look. “Look, I’m really not sure,” said Rhos, though the more she thought about the glowing faces of Rhys and Anwen when they got back to Solva and the shy glances they now exchanged, she felt sure she knew the answer.

“You can use a dotted line if you’re not sure, Mrs Jenner,” said Francesca helpfully. Rhos discreetly circled a number of items. The Role Descriptors gave her brief pause for thought before she quickly circled a few. The more she looked at the form, the more she realised that it was helping her to think about her son in a different way. What was he really like? What did he really like?

“Yes, Madam,” said Simone. Francesca admired her colleague’s skill: she agreed that this was a time to be formal. “It’s just a routine question. If your Rhys is going to be wearing lingerie or tight pants, it’s helpful to know. The cut needs to be right. You must’ve seen him at times if he’s still living at home?” “Well, yes,” said Rhos, starting to write in his flaccid length. “I’m going to have to guess the dimensions, I’ve obviously never measured it …..” “Sure,” said Francesca. “……. but erect!?” interjected Rhos. “Surely you’ve caught him wanking once in a while?” enquired Simone. Rhos began to blush. She had. She’d even seen him with a stiffie in the shower. “Don’t worry, it’s entirely natural. All boys do it.” “It’s asking for girth as well. What does that mean?” asked Rhos. “It’s just the circumference. What have you got for diameter?” replied Francesca. “I put down two and a quarter inches for length when limp, three and half when erect, and half an inch for diameter,” said Rhos. “Oooh! That sounds just like me,” said Simone. “I bet he has a lovely little cocklet.” “Well, yes, I guess it is quite cute,” agreed Rhos while giving Simone a quizzical look. “Small but cute.” She’d never probably thought about before. Her boy was never going to be a good cocksman. He didn’t take after his absent father in that regard. He was never going to impress the girls. She circled ‘Cocklet’ while they talked. Yes, ‘Cocklet’ was a good description for Rhys’s meagre endowment. Francesca noticed Rhos’s puzzled gaze and interjected, “Don’t worry Mrs Jenner, Simone used to be Simon.” “What! But I thought you were…” “Yes, most do,” said Simone. “Ever since I started as a B&K Boy, I’ve preferred to be called Simone.” “And all you need to do is multiply

the diameter by three if you want to get the circumference or girth,” continued Francesca trying to get the application and the conversation back on track. “Three is close enough to Pi. I don’t really understand why we ask for both diameter and girth. It’s most unnecessary.” “When I applied, I found it easier to wrap a tape measure round mine to do the girth. I didn’t bother with the diameter,” Simone explained. “So you were a B&K Boy,” said Rhos looking at Simone. “I would never have known.” “I still am a B&K Boy,” replied Simone. “Once a B&K Boy, always a B&K Boy.” “You clearly like it,” said Rhos. “I love it,” said Simone. “Absolutely love it.” “Simone, we really need to let Rhos finish filling in the form.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m doing OK now,” said Rhos moving swiftly through the balls and

cockcage sections. She laughed when she got to the question about whether Rhys dressed

as a girl. “It’s asking whether likes to dress as a girl. Only in his dreams. I can’t see that

happening in Solva.”

Both Simone and Francesca looked disappointed. “Does your son have any past experience of femininity, Mrs Jenner?” asked Francesca. “None at all, apart from letting me dress him as Snow White for a party once. He was so cute.” “I bet he looked wonderful,” said Simone. “Bergman and Knightley do our own Snow White dress. You may have seen it on one of Boy Mannequins when you were browsing. Of course ours is in latex.” Rhos paused from circling ‘Occasionally’ and writing some explanatory text. There was simply too much to process in what Simone had just said. “When you say ‘Boy Mannequins’, do you mean they’re done in the B&K Boy style, or that there’s an actual Boy inside each mannequin?” “The latter. It’s all part of the appeal of Bergman and Knightley to our experienced customers. They know that there’s a coated Boy inside every mannequin. Simone could Rhys Jenner Signing Up full v1.docx 10 of 7 see that Rhos was shocked. “Don’t worry, it’s all part of the training programme. I spent twelve weeks on the floor as a mannequin when I was an apprentice. I did latex dresses and then lingerie. I loved it. You really get to understand the store and the customers.”

‘No wonder one of the lingerie mannequins felt warm to the touch when I stroked it.”

“The Boy would have liked that. It’s always nice when we’re appreciated even though

Mannequin can’t respond he’d have felt your hand.”

Rhos was stunned. Too stunned even to ask about the first question on stimulation. She’d

heard enough grunts coming from Rhys’s bedroom to know the answer. But she needed

help with the next part. “What’s Sounding?” she asked.

“It’s when you have a rod inserted in your urethra and down your penis,” replied Simone

who saw Rhos grimace. “Don’t worry, Mrs Jenner, it can feel delicious when you get used. I

still love it especially when my boyfriend is fucking me. It’s the closest to getting a DP that a

Bottom Boi like me can get.”

Rhos was astonished by the frankness and coarseness of what Simone was saying, and yet

to look at her, she appeared to be a sophisticated young lady. She turned back to the

second page of the entry form. So that’s the kind of thing Bottom Boi got up to. “But I

thought most B& K Boys preferred female company?”

“Many do, because of how they started, but I’ve always preferred to go both ways. I do

have an Auntie but she’s very happy for me to get some cock regularly. She says it does me

good. Auntie likes to sound me too. She loves seeing my little cocklet impaled on a steel

rod, getting hard but going nowhere. She has such fun teasing me and it’s nice to get an

erection every now and again.”

Rhos started thinking about Rhys. Was this the kind of thing he was going to find he liked?

She was just getting to grips with sounding, when she stumbled over the next question

about Active Oral Stimulation. “I don't think I can answer this. This is very personal.”

“Could you give your son a call if you're unsure?” asked Francesca.

“Rhos looked shocked. “I could never ask Rhys questions like this. It’s much too intimate

and not the kind of thing a mother should be asking her son.”

“OK,” intervened Simone, “how about that friend of yours? What was her name?”

“Anwen,” said Rhos. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable asking her either. Do we really need

to answer these questions?”

“Yes, Madam,” replied Francesca, “it’s   “Yes, Madam,” replied Francesca, “it’s important that we understand fully the“Anwen,” said Rhos.  “I don’t think I’d be comfortable asking her either.   Do we really need to answer these questions?”   

“Yes, Madam,” replied Francesca, “it’s important that we understand fully the nature and preferences of each of the contestants.  We need to be able to make informed decisions if we’re going invite candidates for interview.   Now do you need to speak to Anwen?”

“I think it’ll be fine,” said Rhos.   She really didn’t want to speak to Anwen.  It would be too embarrassing to ask, let alone know what she had got up to with Rhys.  Knowing her friend as she did, she could make an educated guess .   After all, Anwen had been very comforting and attentive to her after Carwyn walked out.  She knew what Anwen liked.  And if she’d liked it with her, she was sure she’d have liked it with Rhys.  Rhos smiled to herself.  She couldn’t blame Anwen or Rhys.  Anwen was nothing if not voracious and varietist.   First the mother, then the son.   At least she’d never tried to take Carwyn.  He was too useless even for her.    Poor Rhys, he was probably going to be useless in that department too, but judging by his happy face a few days ago, Anwen had found her way to educate him about alternative pleasures.

She moved on swiftly to the Passive section.   Yes, this would be more Rhys’s cup to tea.  She looked at the final boxes with dismay.   She couldn’t stop herself from moving closer to Simone and quietly asking, “Simone, is it possible for a boy to cum while being fucked?”

“Oh yes,” replied Simone with enthusiasm.  And if you’re really asking, ‘Do I cum when I’m being fucked?’, the answer is emphatically ‘Yes’.  Almost all the time.”

“And hands free?” enquired Rhos, captivated by the beautiful boy’s response.

“Yes, mostly.  It takes time to learn how and it needs an attentive lover, but it’s definitely possible.   I cum hands free most of the time these days.  I just need to relax into the moment. I can’t stop shivering with pleasure when it happens.  It’s much the nicest way to cum.”

Rhos was gazing at Simone wide-eyed.   She was learning something new: a boy could cum like a girl.   It would be wonderful for Rhys if he could do that too.  “And if you can’t?” she asked.

“I could always jerk off when my lover’s about to cum if he hasn’t already managed to get me there.   It’s how I always used to cum, but I don’t nowadays out of loyalty to my Mistress.  She trained me not to touch myself or jerk, so now hands free is the only way I’m going to cum.  You’re making feel moist just at thought of her or my boyfriend fucking me.” 

Francesca, who’d overheard  most of what they’d been saying. interjected: “Simone stop showing off about what a tart you are.   We need to let Mrs Jenner finish filling in her form.”

“Oh don’t worry about,” responded Rhos who could feel a moistness gathering in her own panties and hoped that nothing would leak through to darken her jeans.  “It’s been very educational.”  She didn’t circle either Y or N for Rhys but added ‘Don’t know’.   She guessed it was probably N, but she knew that Anwen was very skilled.   Best to allow the benefit of the doubt.  

Simone couldn’t stop herself from adding, “And remember Mrs Jenner, the winner will get a senior manager from Bergman and Knightley to act as his minder.   She will be a very experienced B&K Lady.   Even though your son, isn’t yet a B&K Boy, she would be responsible for training him in the ways of B&K.   I know they like to keep the winning Boy happy and content.   I’m sure he’ll become more than capable by the time she’s finished with him.

Rhos moved on to the next page of the form.  Part Two had a different tone and style.   Although easier, she needed to write a lot more.   She moved across to rest the paper on the podium counter.   The first ones she answered easily and quickly.  Questions 4 and 5 gave her pause for thought.   He sucked the end of her pen before she wrote her answers.  

She speeded up again when she got to 8 and 9 but came to halt at 10. “How am I meant to

complete Question 10 about all these outfits? I’m not sure what Rhys would want to

wear.”

“Just put down what you think would be appropriate and what he would look good in,” said

Francesca. “If it fits with B&K styling, we often let the winner wear what he’s chosen on his

form when he attends events.”

“How marvellous!” exclaimed Rhos. “Now let me see. What would Rhys look good in and

what would he like to wear? Or what would I to see him wearing?” She scanned the list

then started to write with enthusiasm.

Rhos giggled as she  answered Question 11.   Rhys might dream about Sabrina Carpenter but he’d never be able to do what he might want to do.  Still he could always pretend that he was capable, but he’d probably end up asking her to do what Anwen had done if he had the courage.   Then she turned the page and was confronted by Question 12.  “Oh my goodness,” she cried out, “it’s asking who he’d most like to have make love to him.”   She could hardly write Sabrina Carpenter again.

“That’s right, Madam,” affirmed Francesca going formal again.

“I bet he might include his Auntie Anwen from what you said.”

“Mmmmm, yes,” pondered Rhos.   She thought more about Rhys and what he liked.  She thought about

the pop star and rugby posters adorning his bedroom walls and it came to her what her boy would like.  She realised what he really wanted.  What he’d always wanted.   She began to write.

“It seems like Madam knows after all,” observed Francesca.

“Ydw, dw i'n hytrach yn meddwl fy mod i'n gwneud hynny,” replied Rhos to the bemusement of both Francesca and Simone.   Rhos scanned down the rest of the form.  “I think I can complete the rest of the form on my own, ladies.   Thank you for your help.”  She looked pointedly at Simone as she said ‘ladies’ and gave her a lovely smile.  Simone would always be a lady to her.   

Ten minutes later, Rhos checked over the form then handed it Francesca.   “Thank you for all your help,” she repeated.  

“Thank you, Mrs Jenner,” replied Francesca starting to thumb through the pages.   She spotted Rhys’ second name.  “Gwendolleu!   What a lovely name.   I hope he calls himself Gwendolyn.”

“No, he’ll stay as Rhys.   I don’t want him changing.  He’ll always be Rhys to me.”

Simone was looking at her phone.  “Yes, I can see why you say that.   Simone is close to Simon so my mum doesn’t mind.  Maybe he could use Gwendolleu more since I just checked and apparently it translates as ‘blessed ring’.   What could be more appropriate for a sissy boy?”

Rhos giggled at Simone’s joke.   She never thought about his name that way. She must have had unconscious prescience sixteen years ago  when she was choosing names,  “Yes, I can see why he might start using Gwendolleu more in months to come, but he’s staying Rhys for now.”

“Quite right, Madam,” Francesca recanted.   Holding up the form and the credit card machine, she added,  “I am sorry to trouble you Mrs Jenner, but we do need the entry fee as well as the form.”

“Oh, yes, what was I thinking?”   Rhos pulled a small purse from her blazer pocket and counted out five twenty pound notes.   The girls looked surprised to be given cash.  

“Thank you Mrs Jenner,” said Francesca placing the notes in the till.   “And will Madam be wanting anything else today.”

“Oh, no.  I can’t afford anything more after paying for Rhys’ entry, and my hotel and train fare.  I’ll just be going to my hotel now for an early night and then I’ll catch the morning train back to Solva tomorrow.”  

Francesca and Simone exchanged looks.   Simone nodded.  Francesca reached beneath the counter and pulled out an envelope and a small, wrapped package.   She handed them to Rhos without a word.

4. Bath Night

Back at her hotel, Rhos removed her jacket.   Her little room was very warm.   She sat on her bed and pulled out her mobile.   She tried to call Rhys but got no answer.   She left a message when it flipped to voicemail: “Darling, it’s Mum.  Sorry, but I’m not going to be home tonight.  I went on a trip today and I can’t get a connection that’ll get me back to Solva this evening.   I left something for your tea in the fridge.   You just need to pop it in the microwave.  Have a good evening.  Cariad mawr atat ti, Mam.”

Next she called Anwen.   Anwen answered after only a couple of rings:  “Hi Wen, it’s Rhos ……  How are you? …… I just wanted you to know that I’m not going to get back to Solva tonight ……….. Never you mind where I am, it’s a secret ………. No, it’s not a dirty night away.   Don’t judge everyone by your standards …….. I’ll let you know in a few days’ time ………. Anyway, I’m not going to be back till around tomorrow lunchtime ………. Rhys will be at home on his own.   You might want to pop round…….. He would like that …….. You know that I know …….. You did, didn’t you? ………  When you went to London ……… I felt sure you had …………. No, he never told me, I just knew ……… Why do you think I’m telling you I’m away? ………  You can use my bed.  It’ll be easier and more comfortable in a double……….. Yes, just like us ……… You are such slut, Wen. Yes, in the same bed........ and Wen........ try to make him cum........ Yes, I know, but this time hands free ........ Yes, hands free........  No, you can’t assist him this time ............ That’s right ......... Well you’ll just have to try harder...... I know Rhys will love it.......... Thanks, Wen.  Mwynhewch eich hun, ti’n gut budr.  Love you.”

Rhos put the phone down.  She wondered if this night with Anwen could count as a second present for Rhys.   She looked at the envelope and package that she’d tossed on the bed when she got in the room.   She picked up and opened the envelope.   She couldn’t believe her eyes: a voucher for Bergman and Knightley for £50.   The girls had clearly taken pity on her.  She opened the package.  Inside a plain white box was a large shiny black pump action can of B&K lube.  Now she had two more presents for Rhys.   He’d need the lube if he was going to have more nights with Anwen.   

She looked at her watch.  Five o’clock. She had a couple of hours before trying to find somewhere to eat.  She opened her little travel bag and brought out her not so little friend and a small tube of lube.   She took off her boots and shimmied out of her jeans.   She shuffled her panties to one side and started to dream about Anwen might be getting up to with Rhys that evening.    

Sweet dreams.

“

From Christeen with Love

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On Patreon Today

A brand new piece

of my own art and

once again we find

Andy under the 

critical gaze of his 

devoted Aunt Jane.

However this time

it would appear she

is not alone. 

Hi Everyone

 Omg I have just got back from my mini-break, what fun and what wonderful late summer sun we had.

But back I am and just in time to share the latest treats from our beloved Christeen.As ever we have two brand new images plus two classics from the Christeen Archive.

  What a way to see in the weekend.

Biggest Hugs

XX

Andy

Wednesday fun

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From only $4 a month

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Hi Everyone

   Welcome to a wednesday round up with some fun pieces from faces old and new. We have Translations from the lovely Girlie Morgane and few fun images from long time reader Matty Caff. We get tyhe shiny lens out again and then we have one of my fave stories  story from Skinnie stallion and that is saying something.

   But before we go on I would like you to be prepared because over the coming weeks we will have other writers to join the fun. I am trying to get time to read Mistress Leather Beths latest offering, which I have no doubt at all will be amazing, plus our dear friend Notatrog has written a quite superb piece weaving my art together with a little twist. Bu tI will let Notatrog explain that in a few weeks.

In the meantime.

Lets kick off with some fun from Girlie Morgane

Before Amanda Holden and Rhys Jenner Andy was too sweet to eat

Now 3 little pieces from Matty Caff

Now lets take that shiny lens and cast it across some of out favourite blog legends and who's this? It's only out most beautiful future Queen,the stunning  Princess Catherine. She is so beautiful

  

But wait....is that the Queen of the blog? we cast the Lens and this is what happens 

What's that you say? it would not be the same without who?

Well here is Vorder's as featured in a recent magazine piece. Doe's anyone remember this moment? 

 

Enough of this frippery I hear you cry, where is Skinnie and that story based on art created for the patreon featuring the Hermione Doll

 Be calm for here it is

Enjoy

XXX

Andy

Hermione Stranger: Hermione Danger 

By Skinnie Stallion    

(Version 2)

1. Thursday morning

Rachel was very happy with how Steve had turned out.   With a clear, invisible coat rather than their standard black latex epoxy, the workshops had done him proud.   The Emma Watson mask and wig designed by the make-up girls looked perfect.   She’d enjoyed dressing Steve before the shift started.  As she expected, the girls in the workshop had already plugged him.   She asked maintenance to mount him on the podium and brought out the ‘My Hermione Barbie’ banner.  She wanted to get Steve out on the floor and management sign-off before doors opened.  

When she was happy that she’d got Steve positioned just right, she asked her floor supervisor to come over.   She was easy to spot in her pink blazer briefing some of the newer B&K Boys.  “So this is what I’ve done for the Dollification promotion, Madam Stamp” she advised.  “I present to you the ‘My Hermione Barbie’.  With the 25th anniversary next year, we thought the Emma Watson doll template would be ideal to use in a dedicated promotion for the new My Barbie Boy Dollification range.”

Rachel waited nervously while Madam Stamp inspected the display.  Anything going out on the floor needed her approval.  Rachel’s nerves settled quickly as she watched a beaming smile grow on her supervisor’s face.  “That’s very impressive Rachel.   Choose four from those whose guardians failed to tick the ‘No Display’ option.”   She examined again the startled face of the mannequin.   “God, I love that.  Is that really Steve Ranger in there?  I wouldn’t have known.   Have you needed to put his Hummer on high to achieve that look or is it in the mould?”

“Mostly in the mould, but I did think keeping him on a medium setting will be nice for him and help to keep his mouth gaping,” replied Rachel turning at the sound of the shutters going up and store’s doors opening.  

“Good idea,” agreed Madam Stamp.  “It could get very messy if he’s on high all day.  A few little moans won’t matter.”  

“Should I speak to HR to go through the boys’ application forms?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, please do.”  Both Madam Stamp and Rachel noted that a small crowd was starting to form around them and the display.  There was already a buzz of excitement developing. “And don’t take too long about it.   If you can’t find any with ‘No Display’ unchecked, just select some of the newest Boys, or more experienced ones who may like going back to being mannequins.   I’m sure many of our Boys long to look like Emma Watson, especially an Emma Watson in latex.  I want them out on the floor by tomorrow afternoon, if possible, to catch the weekend shoppers.  And Rachel, darling ….”

“Yes, Madam Stamp?” answered with surprise; she was unused to be called ‘darling’ by Madam Stamp.  She was clearly in her good books today.

“Transparent is fine for the upper half and as an undercoat, but please have the boys dipped up to the waist in our traditional black. I think the Emmas’ legs would look better if they were wearing black latex stockings and they’ll blend in better with our standard mannequins.”

“Yes, Madam Stamp,” replied Rachel already wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself.  Shiny black latex legs would look better.  She guessed that was why Madam Stamp was a supervisor and she wasn’t.   Maybe it would come with experience.

2. Saturday morning

As he shaved his legs, Oscar hoped that this was going to be his big break.   If he could just get the inside story, he could stop being a freelance.  He could become the youngest cub reporter on the Argus.   The story might even find its way to Fleet Street.   He just needed to get that scoop.   

Yesterday he’d heard about the crush outside one of the stores in town.   He’d tried to get through the crowds but it was too near closing time and they weren’t allowing any more people into the store.   Bergman and Knightley.  A fashion store.  An upmarket fashion store.   Very exclusive.   And yet there were hordes of young girls and boys outside, and many older women.   There was lots of talk about Harry Potter and Hermione.  It seemed as if Bergman and Knightley had become like Madam Tussaud’s.   But what had caught his ear was a rumour.   A familiar rumour that he’d heard before in some bars.   He’d even heard something similar in the playground when he was still ay school from boys who had Saturday jobs or had older brothers.  Rumours that some of the sales assistants at Bergman and Knightley were actually boys.  Rumours that some of the mannequins on the shop floor were actually boys encased in a hard lacquer.  He had to get into the store today and find out of the rumours were true.   He had to get that story.

3. Sunday morning

Rachel knocked hesitantly on Madam Short’s door.  She hated going to see the Floor Manager but Sunday was Madam Stamp’s day off this week. There was a pause then a peremptory bark of “Enter.”  Simone went in feeling like a naughty schoolgirl on the carpet before the Headmistress for a reprimand or punishment.  “What is it?” the stern looking blonde lady asked.  “Chloe, isn’t it?  Chloe Collins?”

Simone couldn’t help but be impressed by how Madam Short remembered the names of all the floor staff: all the more permanent B&K Girls like her, and all the B&K Boys even the new ones despite the numbers coming though these days.  “It’s about the Hermiones for the Dollification Promotion, Madam Short.”

“What about the Hermiones?” the martinet asked sternly.

“Well, when I spoke to my supervisor during the week, she wanted four of the new Hermiones put out on the floor.”

“Yes, Madam Stamp told me.   Very fitting they look too.  Perfect for our Emma Watson tribute.  We do need to catch up with B⚥y? in that regard.”

“So I arranged on Friday to put out Nigel Ford, Steve Ranger, Jacob Nightingale and Simone Simmons.  None of them had ticked the right boxes except Simone who volunteered to be a Hermione.   Madam Stamp had wanted the Hermiones to have latex coated legs like our other mannequins so I needed to get Nigel and Simone dipped, Steve redipped, and Jacob solvent dipped to take off his full black epoxy coat then redipped in transparent and then black dipped to the waist.”

“This is all very commendable Miss Collins, but what are you trying to tell me?”

“Well, the workshops managed to redip Steve overnight on Thursday, and dip and plug Nigel on Friday morning so that he was out for the lunchtime shoppers.”

“Yes, both looked very fetching,” commented Madam Short.   “There were so many people in the store yesterday afternoon after the schools finished for the day. Word must’ve got around quickly.  So many young girls wanting to see the Hermiones.”

“Yes, but the workshops got rather stuck on Jacob.   It took longer than they expected getting him clean in the solvent tank so that they didn’t manage to dip him again till yesterday evening, and they never got to Simone.”

“So that was why we still only had two Hermiones out on Saturday?” queried Madam Short.

“That’s right,” confirmed Rachel.   “I let Simone go home yesterday evening since she had a date with her boyfriend, and I thought it would be nice for her to get a good hard fucking before she spends the next six weeks as a plugged Hermione Barbie Doll.”

“Quite,” agreed Madam Stamp.  “But I’m still not clear what the problem is, Miss Collins.”

“Well, last night we had two Hermiones on the shop floor.   This morning we have three.”

“What!?” exclaimed Madam Short.

“We now have three Hermiones.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time.  But how?” challenged Madam Short.

“I don’t know.  I checked the workshops and Jacob is hung up over the drip tray drying, and enjoying a few last moments with his plug on high before he’s dressed and put out on the floor.  I called Danielle on her mobile and she was still in bed with her boyfriend getting what sounded like a very nice wake-up call.  So somehow, we’ve acquired a new Hermione overnight.”

“You have to show me,” commanded Madam Short standing up from her desk and marching towards her office door.   Rachel followed.   It was obvious Madam Short was on the warpath.

Rachel guided Madam Short across the floor to the first station.  “So this is Nigel Ford.  I posed him as Hermione about to duel: legs spread and wand erect.”

“Excellent.  If it weren’t for this difficulty, I’d be proposing to Madam Stamp that you and he receive a bonus for this alone.  He looks so dynamic.  Quite the action doll.   That’s how we want customers to see our Dollies.”

“Thank you Madam Short.”

“Hold on, you haven’t got it yet, young lady.  Who’s next?  We need to get this sorted before the store opens.  Thank goodness for ten o’clock opening on Sunday.”

Rachel shepherded Madam Stamp towards the second stand where a Hermione stood proudly in a latex robe bearing her Gryffindor crest.  A wide eyed, slightly startled look was etched on the Hermione’s face.

“This Steve Ranger,” said Rachel.

“Very nice too,” said Madam Short, “ but where’s his wand?”

“I don’t know, Madam Short.  I’m sure he had one yesterday at closing, but the schoolgirls do keep taking them.   I carry a few spares on me because of all the replacements we’ve needed,” said Rachel reaching behind her to draw a wand from her waistband.

“No, leave it for now,” said Madam Stamp.   “Let me see the third please.”

Rachel led her across to a platform without a banner beside it.  “This is our mystery Hermione.”

“I see” said Madam Short looking closely at the unlabelled Hermione doll in a perfect latex dress brandishing a wand.  She turned to look at the other two Hermiones.   Rachel stayed silent while Madam Short pondered.  Eventually she spoke, “Not quite a three pipe problem, as Sherlock Holmes used to say, but a poser nevertheless.  You said that Madam Stamp had wanted all the Hermiones to be black latex dipped to the waist.”

“Yes, Madam Short,” replied Rachel.

“And plugged too?”

“Yes,” said Rachel,  “with our standard Hummingbird.”

“Hmmm.  Please can you call Security, Miss Collins?”

“Certainly Madam Short.”  Rachel worried that the Guards were going to be for her and that she about to be put into the disciplinary system.   She returned shortly accompanied by several security guards.  Others appeared to cover the exits.  

“Now let’s go back to Steve Ranger again, please?”   As they strolled back to the second stand, Madam Short said, “I assume you leave their Hummers off overnight.  Is that correct?” 

“Yes, Madam Short,” confirmed Rachel.

“Good.   Please turn Steve’s Hummer up to Maximum Thrust,” instructed Madam Stamp as they stood beside the robed mannequin.

“Maximum?  No build up?  And Thrust not Vibrate?” enquired Rachel, aware of what a fierce jolt it would give the boy.

“Maximum Thrust!” repeated Madam Short sounding like a drill sergeant.  “And that was an order not a request.”    Rachel moved the slider on her iPad.   A few yards away there was first a moan as the unlabelled Hermione convulsed and then a crash as the mannequin toppled sideways to the ground.  Security raced to pick-up the collapsed boy.  

Rachel was shocked.   Steve Ranger hadn’t moved.   “Turn it down now, please,” ordered Madam Stamp.   While Rachel adjusted the slider again, Madam Short stood behind Steve and eased aside his Hermione robe.   “I thought you said, all Hermiones were black latex dipped to the waist and plugged.”  Before Rachel could reply, Madam Short thrust a finger upwards through his latex panties into his bottom.   “But seemingly not as this one,” as a male voice screamed out in excruciating pain.

4. Sunday Afternoon 

Rachel had never been so grateful that Sunday was a short day and that the store closed at three o’clock.   It might have been a short day but it had been eventful.   Eventful but with a bonus: she would soon have five Hermiones on the shop floor for the Dollification promotion.

The interrogation hadn’t taken long.   The impostor had been bundled into a back room by Security.   It might be a medieval approach but Madam Short knew that the old instruments worked without fail: he cracked merely at the sight of the anal pear.   He immediately blurted that he was a reporter trying to infiltrate Bergman and Knightley.  A reporter intent on defaming Bergman and Knightley and its good work with young men. He’d got into the store on Saturday and had hidden at closing time   The workshop had been locked but he’d found an Emily Watson mask in a side-room. He’d taken a Hermione dress from the racks and then shuffled poor Steve aside to assume his place.   Somehow he’d eluded Security who must’ve mistaken him for one of the ‘regular’ Hermiones.  He protested that they couldn’t detain him but Madam Short had other ideas when he revealed he was just a freelance and no-one knew about the story he was working on.  

By eleven o’clock, Jacob was dressed and out on the shop floor.   By twelve o’clock, the intruder had been plugged and dipped.  By two o’clock, he was dry and Rachel started to dress him.   By three o’clock after closing, maintenance were ready to move him out on to floor to be in place for opening on Monday.  At four o’clock, Rachel admired her handiwork and adjusted the slider on her iPad.   Oscar would have gasped as the plug in his bottom started to vibrate except he couldn’t.  He was unable to move his jaw.  His whole body was held rigid in a latex epoxy casing but Rachel could see him quivering.   Everything was in working order.  She lowered the vibration setting and gave him a little good night kiss.   Her newest and unplanned Hermione. 

As Rachel sat on her bus home, she opened her iPad and Oscar’s Hummingbird surged back into life.   Oscar couldn’t believe what was happening to him.   His investigation had turned into a nightmare.  He was trapped.  No-one knew he was here.  No-one would recognise him behind his Emma Watson mask.   And despite all that, he was being remotely teased into a state of sexual excitement like he’d never experienced before.  He would have been embarrassed except there was no-one to see him or know it was him in the deserted store.

And it had all been a waste of time.   There was never going to be a scoop.   Apparently it was common knowledge that Bergman and Knightley as their sales assistants.   It just happened that  Bergman’s dressed them all as girls.  How had he missed that?

As he soundlessly moaned with pleasure and despair at the relentless pulse of his Hummingbird, little did he know that tomorrow morning, the Bergman and Knightley Sales Team would be posting his details in their next auction catalogue.   While he might not be a trained B&K Boy, there were buyers and Harry Potter fans in the Far East who would appreciate their very own Hermione Doll.   In six week’s time, part of his wish would be fulfilled: he’d no longer be a Hermione mannequin on the shop floor.   Instead, in six week’s time, he would be sold, crated and despatched to an ardent Emma Watson fan for a handsome price.  There was a story to be had about human traffic if he had known.  Now he would become his very own story.

XXXXXX