Hello and thank you for visiting my blog. Well it is not so much a blog more a place to share all the things i have written, drawn and generaly played with over the last 10 years. Most of them are related to my love of smooth slick Latex and shiny PVC, as well as the delights of feminization. I also have a huge crush on British TV presenter Carol Vorderman (The perfect model of the older woman) as well as the gorgeous Keira Knightley. (more my age). There will be nothing harsh or nasty here, just fun things, naughty things, sexy things and yes, well, Kinky things. Basically it's a stroll through the kinky lanes of my mind. hope you have fun. XXX

Saturday, 14 April 2018

The Guiding Hand Original version re-edit...part 3

 Hi Everyone

Here Is the 3rd part of Robs wonderful re-edit of The Guiding Hand (Original version) 

Part 3: Taken by the Hand.
In the fading light, the drive back to the large house was made in almost total silence. Andy felt nothing but fear and shame. The look on the assistant’s face as Jane had paid for the shimmery latex dress was still clear in his mind. And so, after the longest half-hour of his life, the car turned into the tree-lined drive way and drew up in front of the house. The engine stopped, and the young man felt his stomach knot as his beautiful tormentor turned and eased the gleaming black bag with its shocking contents from the back seat.
* * *
Andy accepted the offered cup of tea with trembling hands. He sipped the warm liquid but found no taste. Jane smiled and, as if the young man who sat before her had not just had his world turned upside down, said how much she liked his company and what a lovely day they had had.
Poor Andy nodded and smiled as best he could. He wanted to speak, to express his regret, but the guilt mixing with the shame-filled terrors of the last few hours muted his tongue.
Then with the last of the tea gone, the beautiful Lady Jane Fullerton-Jones placed her cup to one side and sat forward.
“Stand up,” she purred. For a moment Andrew hesitated, then with a wave of her hand he rose to stand before her. “Good boy.” She eased further forward in her seat. “Now…” her eyes sparkled and seemed to hold him in their grip. “… drop your trousers.”
The words hit him like a boulder, not even registering in his head. He heard them but remained stunned. He could not speak and, when he tried, only a cute squeak emerged. “I… don’t…”
“Come along, Andrew, I can’t wait any longer…. Take your trousers down ... I want to see.”
For a moment he thought about protesting, thought about saying she was mad and refusing… But he knew he was lost. He had trapped himself and so, helpless to resist his bewitching captor’s commands, breathed a shame-filled apology, opened his denim jeans and drew them down.
Jane gasped.
“Please forgive me, Lady Jane,” Andy half-sighed, half-whimpered.
But she did not answer his repeated pleas. Instead she reached out and gently stroked one finger across the smooth rubber which enclosed his young bottom.
“I’m so sorry,” Andy once more sighed, feeling his skin shiver under her delicate caress, “…. I … please forgive me. I …. I don’t know why … Please.”
“Oh Andrew, you look as adorable in your new panties as you did in your nightdress.”
For an eternity his face burned red with shame as the meaning of Jane’s words filtered into his head. “You … you know? You saw me?” he mumbled.
“Of course, darling, and let me tell you I have watched those videos a dozen times.”
“I’m so sorry, Lady Fullerton-Silk, really I am.” As the tears welled in his eyes he wanted nothing but to fall at her feet and beg forgiveness. “Please, I never meant to wear .... I’ve never ever done anything like it before. I don’t know why …… please, I’m sorry.”
“Oh darling, no, no, it is I who should be sorry.” She stood and wrapped the trembling young man in her arms, “Oh, I have been very naughty, do please forgive me, Andrew. I just hoped you might be tempted. Kelly said you might be.”
“K… Kelly said ….?” he sobbed, the light of realisation now aglow in his stunned head that he had fallen into some kind of trap. She held him close. Then, easing his trousers up to hide his shame, she guides him to sit beside her.
“It’s alright, Andrew,” she purred, her voice seeming to flow directly into his heart. “I understand you are a little shocked now, so I will explain a little. You see, I bought you those items for you to try. I must admit I thought you might have smelt a rat, especially with those gorgeous leather pants, I mean, as much as I might dream, there is no way I could get into trousers for a slim 17-year old. But you would have looked really good in them. It’s a pity you did not try them. You have such shapely legs and a bottom to die for, but I’m glad you tried the nightie.”
“But… but why?” Andy sighed, his face buried in Jane’s silken bosom.
“Because I needed to know, to be sure that you were … adaptable.”
“But I … I have never done …. I’m sorry … I knew it was all wrong.” Andy began to sob. She drew him closer still. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
She laughed softly, “Of course I forgive you, darling, and I hope you forgive me. I went too far today taking you to that shop, but I did not realise what a sweetheart you are ...,” and so saying she drew the trembling young man to her bosom and cradled him close until the room was dark. Then, in a soft loving tone she whispered, “you’ve had a very surprising day, my darling. I think it is time you were in bed.”
* * *
Free of his rubber prison, Andy just stared at the ceiling of his room for what seemed like forever, his mind fuzzy and blurred, full of guilt and shame at his betrayal of his lovely new Aunt. But in time he began to drift, and sleep overtook him, a disturbed sleep full of dreams, a sleep that cradled him until the warm morning sun filtered through the curtains and he felt the soft awakening touch of Jane’s fingers on his cheek.
“Good morning, darling,” Jane purred. Her voice was as warm and loving as ever.
His eyes flickered open. Jane sat on the bed beside him. He could barely focus, but her voice filled his head
“G…. Good morning, Lady Jane.” His voice was soft and uncertain, unsure of how he was to react to her. He need not have feared.
“Call me Auntie, darling, call me Auntie. I hope you slept well after your worrying evening,” she whispered, her fingers brushing a stray hair from his face.
“Yes, thank you ...  He paused, she could tell what he was thinking. “... I’m sorry …”
She placed her finger to his lips in a ’Shhhhh’. “It’s alright, Andrew. Last night was last night, all over and done with. This is a new day for you, a new beginning.” She placed the breakfast tray on his lap. “Enjoy this. I think you need it after last night.”
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Patting his knee lovingly, she stood up and walked elegantly to the door. Andrew felt his heart spring, the weight lifting from him. The horrors of the night before would become a fading, shameful secret, but then at the door Jane turned. He again saw the beautiful smile on her glossy lips. But the words that passed them made his stomach spin.
“I have cleaned and dusted your panties. You will find them laid out for you in the bathroom. Put them on after you have showered, then come next door.” She narrowed her eyes, “... and don’t be long.”
In an instant, all that remained was her beautiful perfume and a tightening knot in his stomach.
The breakfast was toast, scrambled eggs and tea. All very nice, but in his dry mouth, it all tasted of nothing, nothing that could fill the swirling void which spread deep within the pit of his stomach.
As instructed he showered. The warm rain felt strangely comforting on his skin and he wished he could stay within the steam-misted cubicle forever. But he couldn’t.
Sure to her word, there on the dresser lay the cherry-red rubber panties, smooth and shiny, just as they had the first time he had foolishly removed them from their tissue shroud. He touched them now as if they were his enemy. They rippled and fluttered in his trembling hands. He thought of tossing them away, but the sound of Jane’s voice calling from the adjoining room made his choices clear. He had none. And so with fumbling fingers, he stepped into their glossy embrace and drew them up about his waist and bottom.
He was their captive once more.
In just the panties and with his heart wildly pounding in his chest, Andrew timidly entered the next room.
With impeccable hair, immaculate makeup and her outfit of short black skirt, a shimmering pink leather blouse which barely contained her full bosom and towering black high heels highlighting her youthful figure, Jane Fullerton-Silk was a stunning sight.
Andy felt his knees tremble as he approached her beckoning finger.
“That’s better, darling,” she said taking his hand and turning him before her. “You know I did not really get a good look at these last night… They really do suit you, you’ve got a lovely bottom,” she gave him a playful pat. “Yes, if you look half as good in the rest of the outfit I will be delighted.”
Andy froze. His nerves tingled, the knot in his stomach gripping tighter. Rest of the outfit. He had slept that night praying his torment was over, but now in the warm glow of the morning sun he knew it had only just begun, for with a coolly dramatic gesture Jane swept her gaze to the bed, where, arranged with deliberate precision lay the brilliant red latex maid’s dress.
“I was just praying you would chose those panties over the satin ones. Oh, don’t get me wrong, you would have looked divine in the satin dress I had already bought to go with them. It is deep pink, all ribbons and bows, very sweet and girly. Oh Andy, I am sure you will get to try it on some time, but to be honest darling, I had hoped my new maid was going to be a little … well …. special.”
“Maid!” Andrew gasped. It was the first time Jane had really stated her intentions towards him and it sent his head spinning. “A maid, you really want me to be a … No….no way. I thought you ... it was all ...”
“What, a joke?”
Andy’s eyes darted between the glossy latex dress and Jane’s sparkling green eyes. “N… no, a … I thought it was like …. like a threat …. a punishment, for …”
“A punishment?” Jane smiled in mock disbelief, “For what, darling, for trying on your nightdress? Don’t be silly. And I don’t want you to be my maid, Andrew … I demand it.”
Andrew could feel his knees weaken. He took another step backward, his wide and confused eyes filling with moisture. “No, I ... You can’t make me.”
“Oh no, I can’t make you, Andrew, I can’t force you into high heels. However, I know you will not disappoint me. After all, I did not have to force you into that pretty nightdress or those kinky little panties.” Janes eyes narrowed as she revelled in the young man’s horror and bewilderment. “As the videos would prove ... if anyone else was ever to see them.”
“No!!!” Andrew snapped, the threat made very clear, “No, please, no.”
“I believe YouTube is quite popular these days.” Jane taunted in mock thought. “I expect lots of your friends visit there.”
“No … no you can’t, you can’t ... I won’t,” he stammered, looking for a way out. “Besides, I’ve got to be back in college in two days. I can’t miss that.”
“Of cause darling, education is very important, and I will ensure you are there, which is why we must make the most of our time.” Her lips curled into a gloriously triumphant smile.
Andrew’s stomach knotted. He knew he was trapped, the fly in her beautiful weband, as his eyes glistened with the light of realisation, she slowly extended a hand. “Now come along.”
* * *
“My goodness,” Jane purred, “Don’t they look amazing.”
Andrew looked down at his legs, or rather where his legs once were. For now, freshly sheathed in the sheerest of silk stockings, they could only have been the legs of a young woman.
“I was offered some latex stockings,” Jane added, slowly circling the nervous Andrew before turning away, “but I thought that might be a little too much to start with and, besides, I think that tiny skirt will look so cute just brushing those lacy stocking tops. Don’t you?”
Andrew did not reply. He was about to. He had the words on his lips, but the moment he saw what his elegant tormentor now held in her hand the words died in his throat.
“Now, darling, I want you to slip these on now, so you can get the feel of them. I should be starting you on something a little lower, but as you said we only have a few days, so I am afraid I will have to drop you in at the deep end ...”
Lady Jane’s commanding voice filled the young man’s head like that of a school mistress. However, his thoughts were fixed solely on the gleaming vermilion-red shoes which now dangled from her fingers.
“So, these are 5 inches and yes, the heels are a little thin I know, but I think you will get the hang of them.”
Andrews eyes widened, in terror. “I ... I can’t wear those,” he murmured.
“Nonsense,” Jane replied, turning the polished patent court shoes in her hand, “You think I did not check your shoe size?”
Terrified at the idea of being imprisoned in such high heels, the poor young man was little more than a dumb spectator as Jane, elegant as ever, bent to place the shoes before him. She straightened and smiled.
“Now young man. Left foot first.”
Andrew held the offered hand tightly as with tiny teetering steps he moved about the room.
“That’s it, dear, tiny steps. You won’t be striding around in those heels.” Jane’s words were soft and reassuring. However, they had no effect on Andrew’s feelings towards the polished shoes on which he now wobbled. They forced him upright, back arched, bum out, fighting for balance.
“Not flat-footed. You must lead with the heel as you would normally do. That’s it, Andrew. Good. Now let your weight flow down through the heels.”
Andrew stepped slowly round the room. The deep carpet probably did not help his balance but, after a while, Jane noticed his hips and bum begin to wiggle as his movements became more and more fluid. She smiled. She could have watched the helpless young man’s first steps into femininity all day. Especially from the rear, with the way the smooth latex creased and stretched about his little bottom with each tentative step. However, despite her desire for him to be as elegant in his heels as possible, she had an even greater one. One she had fantasised about since the first moment she saw him.
“What wonderful skin,” Jane sighed, stroking Andrew’s cheek with one long red fingertip. “I really am quite jealous,”
Not that Andrew really heard her, he was still in shock. One minute he was beginning to move with some semblance of grace atop his dagger-like heels, the next he was bathed in warm bright light and staring down at the neatly arranged contents of Jane’s vanity table.
“Have you ever worn makeup before Andrew ...?” she said, picking a tube from the table and squeezing the light tan cream onto her palm. She knew the answer but got a kick from asking, and apart from a strange squeak and a shake of the head, the shattered boy remained silent. “No? Well, as my maid you will remain immaculately made up at all times, is that understood?”
Poor dumbstruck Andrew. He felt he would faint. As if it was not bad enough that the lower half of his body had been enfolded in a mist of femininity, he was to wear makeup as well, and his head swam. But he was powerless to resist and replied with a faint nod.
“Excellent. Now we have plenty of time Andrew, so I’m not going to rush. This is a light foundation. It will form the base for your makeup,” So saying, she softly applied the foundation evenly across his face and down his neck, blending it across the skin of his shoulders and chest to hide any lines.
Andrew trembled. She had never been this close to him before or quite so intimate, her green eyes drifting over his face.
As she had said, Jane took her time. She delighted in detailing out loud her every movement and trick, explaining the effect each cream or powder would have on his face. She seemed to take an age painting his eyes, instructing him to look up or down, to close his eyes or open them to look at her. Selecting and discarding palates of colour and brushes and pens in turn, until finally she had just the effect she desired. She tilted her head, admiring her skill.
“Perfect. Now hold very still. I am going to make those cute lashes of yours even longer.” From the table behind her, she took up the small plastic case in which, to Andy’s dismay, lay two long spider-like ribbons of black, “I was just going to use a little mascara, but these will make your eyes really feminine. Now hold very still, darling.”
For a moment Andy’s lips parted to voice his protest but no sound emerged, and silently he remained as still as instructed, allowing Jane to carefully press the false lashes over his own. She leaned back, tilting her own head as she examined them. Then, taking up the pen-like mascara brush, she skilfully and gently sealed them in a jet black.
If she were being honest, Jane would have had to admit that the moment she leant back to take in the finished effect, the words she had had on her lips died away in astonishment. The effect of the lashes had turned Andy’s eyes into those of a very glamorous young woman and for a moment she even thought of reaching for the sliver tweezers which lay on the table. A few skilled strokes and his naturally thin brows would become perfectly feminine arches. But no, she stilled herself, knowing that the young man would indeed be back in college soon and that freshly-shaped eyebrows, no matter how sweet, would be very hard for him to explain. So instead, with a tiny little amount of wax she brushed each brow into the delicate shape she desired.
Poor Andy, he had sat silent and still all that time she had made his eyes up. However, it was what followed that finally broke his resolve.
Jane raised his face on her fingertip until he gazed up at her. “Don’t look so nervous, Andy,” she smiled, “you look lovely. Now with this little brush here, I am just going to outline your lips and then I am going to paint them to match your dress.”
Whether it was the idea of having his lips painted or the mention of his dress that shocked Andy most, but suddenly the shy young man’s voice returned.
“No, no, Lady Jane, please. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he burst out, turning his head away. “Please forgive me, please don’t make me be your maid, I don’t want to be turned into a girl. I’ll look silly. Please”
“Oh darling ...,” Jane put the small brush which was hovering close to his lips down, and turned her face back to his, “Oh, I am so sorry, I thought you understood, Andrew. Of cause I’m not going to force you into being my maid, I would not want that, it would be so wrong of me.” She shook her head, “Oh I’m sorry, silly me.” She tilted his face back to look straight into her eyes, “But I just naturally assumed you would not want anyone else to see those tapes of you.”
Andy’s heart stopped.
“However, if you do not want to be my maid, then that’s fine. I can post copies to, say, your college, your friends, and I’m sure your family would love to see how cute you looked in your pretty clothes. Would they not ..., Andrew?”
There is a long pause, the true hopelessness of his position becoming clear. Obey … or be totally and utterly humiliated. The pause went on. She did not move her eyes from his once. She knew his answer, knew her trap was perfect,
“Which would you like, darling?” She looked deep into his eyes, already feminised behind those fluttering lashes. Andy just blushed and looked away. “Andrew, look at me,” her crisp tone made him jump. “Look at me. Now I don’t want any more misunderstandings, young man. Which is it to be? Become my maid or ... the other?”
She wanted him to admit it, to surrender to his fate and his answer, his only possible answer, could not have been sweeter.
He sighed with all his heart and nodded. “I ... I want to be your … maid, Auntie Jane …”
“There that’s better ...” She shifted in her seat, her tone instantly lightening “…and don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you into a girl. I’m not a magician. I am just feminising you, that is making you as pretty as can be, and I assure you, Andy, the one thing you will not look is silly. Now ... part your lips for me.”
Andy obeyed and, with his head tilted to her, the tip of the red-dipped brush glided smoothly around the outline of his naturally full lips to create the perfect cutely feminine bow she desired. Once satisfied, she placed the tiny brush aside and took up the slightly larger lip brush. The sight of it instantly made the young man shrink away.
“Oh Andy, you don’t have to look so scared,” Jane purred, “it will only feel a little greasy, that’s all.” And so, as Andy closed his eyes, she, with deliberately slow strokes, sealed his lips beneath a wetly glossy film of shiny vermilion red.
“There, that did not hurt now, did it?”
Andrew said nothing. It was as if the rich film of gloss he could feel upon his lips has sealed them shut into a helplessly kissable pout.
“Don’t worry. Nearly there darling. Now you hardly needed this ...,” Jane said, puffing the big brush in the rosy powder she held in her hand. “… but I think a little blusher will add a little balance to the redness of your cheeks.”
Again, Andy closed his eyes as, with a gentle touch, his beautiful tormentor caressed the soft brush across his rounded cheeks and forehead, then down over his chest, highlighting his embarrassed colour with a delicate rose shimmer.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Jane said casting her eyes over the now very feminine and pretty young face before her, but one last thing now remained of his transformation.
Andy felt the wig before he saw it, and he let out a sweet gasp as Jane drew it over his own short hair settling it into place. But as she did, Andy could not help but notice the look of astonishment which suddenly filled her eyes. The wig was a soft copper red and not really that long, cut into a sweet pixie style. However, the effect was quite stunning.
To be honest, Jane was a little in shock. She had been hoping, indeed expecting Andy to look pretty, but nothing had prepared her for just how pretty the young man who now sat before her would look. In fact, pretty did not come close. There was only one word for him ... beautiful.
However, Jane knew she had to maintain her cool.
“Hmmm,” she purred in mock contemplation, brushing the sweet fringe from the boy’s new eyes. “Hmmm yes, I think that will do. Blink for me, darling.”
Andy paused, as if the instruction was to fall on his sword, a final submission to his fate. However, the look in Jane’s eyes said there was little point in defiance.
The lashes, long and sweeping, felt surprisingly soft and light, and Andy could feel them like the beat of a butterfly’s wings on his eyes.
“Oh, how adorable,” Jane sighed, tilting her head slightly. “So cute. Now, part your lips.”
Another, briefer, pause brought an obedient response, but as he did so, Andy could not help but catch his breath in a soft gasp. For his soft lips, rich and smooth in their creamy new glaze, did not instantly part as before. Instead, they peeled apart in a slow and sensually smooth liquid-like movement.
Andy trembled.
Jane smiled. “Perfect, just perfect. You look amazing, darling. But we are not finished yet.”
Cradling one of his hands in hers, she turned it palm down. “Hmmm, you have such small hands, Andrew,” she said. “So dainty, but I think polished nails will make them look even cuter and even more feminine, and then they will be painted to match your lips. That is important. Lips and nails must always match, with no exception, and when we wear open-toed shoes, your toenails must be painted also.”
Andy barely heard her words. He sat in helpless silence as with great skill and care Jane cleaned and buffed his short nails until they were ready. It was not until she produced the tiny box in which lay the ten neatly laid out false nails that his voice returned. However, his protests this time were a weak and muted “No,” of disbelief.
“Oh darling, don’t be silly. I am not spending all this time making you so beautiful and then having you with nasty short nails. Now, I am going to cement these over….”
“No please ... what about ...?”
“College? Yes, I know,” Jane broke in, “The cement will be strong enough to hold them in place until I choose to remove them. Now, no more fussing.”
It took about an hour, but by the time she was finished, Andy was looking at totally feminine fingers tipped with glossy red-lacquered nails, perfectly smooth and mirror-shiny.
“Gorgeous,” she whispered, her voice thick with what could only be described as excited pride. “Just gorgeous.”
Lost for what seemed like an eternity in the reflected lights which sparkled upon his new nails, Andy did not notice Jane step away from him. Only when her cool cut-glass voice broke in over the pounding of his heart did he awaken from his trance.
He looked over his shoulder and froze.
In her hand, Jane now held up the gleaming red latex dress purchased with such shame and embarrassment the previous evening. Yet now, as Jane turned it in her hand, the dress seemed even smoother, shinier and thinner than before. It also looked a whole lot tinier. Andy’s stomach turned.
“Stand up.”
For a moment, whether out of disobedience or plain terror, Andy remained seated, prompting a second sharper command.
“Andrew. Come here,” Jane ordered, confident in her control over the freshly-feminised young man.
A heartbeat passed. Jane’s eyes narrowed, then like a helpless puppy, Andy rose and without a thought for the staggeringly high heels cradling his feet, moved with his head bowed to stand before her.
“That’s better. Now are you ready for your dress?” Again, the room fell silent, Jane sighed, “Andrew?”
The young man, his face glowing red, nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Y... yes, I ... I am ready for ... for my dress.”
Jane smiled at the young man’s soft reply, a tingle of delight buzzing through her body at the sound of his submissive obedience.
“Oh Andrew, you have no idea how much I wanted to drag you up here last night and force you into this,” Jane purred, slowly drawing the zipper at the back of the dress down before opening it out for Andy to step in. “I dreamt of this moment all night … Now put one hand on my shoulder and slip your left foot in first. And be careful not to catch your heel, the latex is very delicate.”
Again, there was a brief pause before, wobbling slightly atop one dagger heel, Andy slipped his foot into the sleek red dress. Instantly he could feel the cool latex slip over his stockinged legs.
“Very good, now the other.”
After a moment to gain his balance, Andy eased his other heel into the opened dress.
“Well done. Good boy.” Jane smiled to herself as slowly she now began to draw the thin red latex up Andy’s body. “Oh, you are going to look divine in this darling ... Wiggle your hips a bit for me, dear?”
But Andy was not listening. Desperatelytrying to ignore the ever-tightening grip of the latex as it rose about his thighs, he closed his eyes and forced the sounds of latex squeaking and rustling from his mind.
“Andrew, pay attention.” Jane snapped, “Wiggle.”
Trembling, Andy obeyed and to his shame felt the smooth latex slide with ease up to enfold his hips and settle about his waist, the tiny frilled hem brushing softly across the tops of his bare thighs.
After a moment of smoothing and straightening, Jane instructed Andy to slip first one hand and then the other into the offered sleeves. Again, he obeyed without visible defiance. However, the look on his freshly-painted face would have told any innocent onlooker that these were not the actions of a willing young person.
His arms in the tiny puffed sleeves, Jane now eased the stretchy red material up and about Andy’s shoulders. The thin material squeaked and rustled as she stretched and drew it tightly together at the back, before with a smooth single movement sliding the zipper up.
As the zipper rose, it pulled the thin latex even tighter, moulding and stretching the glaze of brilliant red smoothly across his slim body. Now Jane eased, stretched and smoothed the crackling latex into place about his shoulders and body and, as she did, Andy, lost in his own shame and embarrassment, once more raised his eyes to the ceiling.
“You know, this is an even better fit than I imagined,” Jane said half to herself as she continued to fluff and smooth the latex, her hands sliding down Andy’s spine. “Often when you buy something without trying it on in the shop, it can be a little disappointing when you get it home, but this ... this is perfect ...” She placed her hand on the young man’s shoulder and turned him before her, “How does it feel?”
Andy sighed and gave a faint stretch. “Tight …st … sticky ...” He closed his eyes, “silly.”
“Silly? Oh darling, wait till you see it… No, no, not yet,” Jane half-laughed, placing a steadying hand on his arm to stop him turning to the mirror. “You don’t have your apron and cap on yet.”
These two items, both in smooth pure white latex, followed without protest or difficulty. The apron’s ribbons slipped around his slim waist and were joined with two tiny golden hooks to form a smooth unbroken line, emphasising his cutely feminine figure. The cap was even easier. Pinning it to his hair with a single pin, Jane arranged the trailing ribbons to flow down the back of his neck to lightly brush the collar of his dress.
The look of delight on Jane’s face as she stepped back said it all. Gone was the young man and in his place was now a very, very pretty young woman. Jane smiled.
“Turn around so I can see you.”
Taking a breath, the feminised young man began to step round in a circle, the high heels forcing him into tiny and dainty steps.
“Slow down,” Jane purred from her perch on the edge of the vanity table. “I want to see you properly.”
Andy obeyed without a word.
“Perfect. Just perfect,” Jane smiled with a clear look of pride on her face. “Now come here, darling.”
As he approached, Jane turned and took up a small metallic red can from the back of the table. She turned it in her hand, reading the label, nodding to herself in understanding. She looked up.
“Time for me to polish you.”
The look in the helpless young man’s eyes made his lack of understanding clear. Jane stood. “The lady in the shop gave me this. Apparently, it ...” she looked back at the can and read “… leaves latex with a deep liquid-like finish which is neither sticky nor oily. Just spray on and wipe to a deep lasting gloss… Mmmm, how lovely. This will finish your outfit off a treat.”
With a new nervousness, Andy remained dumbstruck as Jane moved behind him. He could sense her eyes running over him. He froze as he felt a finger lightly tracing down his spine. Then, as his heart began to pound in his ears, there came a hissing burst from the can and a cool mist of silicone settled onto the latex, making him gasp.
“Oh sorry, darling, was that a little cold?” Jane whispered, her free hand resting on his arm to prevent his moving away. “I won’t be long.”
Andy was sure she had not lied to calm him, but his polishing was to take longer than either imagined. Not for any technical reason, but purely for the fact that Jane had instantly become lost in the way each burst of the clear mist transformed what had, to her, been a very shiny material into something totally new, totally shiny and wet. It was as if the latex itself had suddenly been transformed into a thick clinging oil, glistening in the morning sun.
As her hands smoothed the spreading glaze across his body, Andy turned his head and looked at his tormentor with wide pleading eyes, but she seemed hypnotised by her purpose, dedicating herself entirely to ensuring that each and every detail and millimetre of his dress, from the cute puff sleeves down and around his body to the tiny short skirt, was polished to perfection. Nothing was left untouched, not the apron or cap, not the underside of the tiny skirt which flared from his hips, and not even those brilliant red panties which enfolded his bottom so tightly.
Andy sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling, concentrating on his every breath, whilst struggling to ignore the clearly erotic sensation of the older woman’s hands caressing his feminised body.
“This is amazing,” Jane half-whispered to herself as she saw herself mirrored in the latex’s glossy surface. “So shiny, so smooth. It feels so slick. Mmmm, wonderful.”
Andy closed his eyes and fought the desire to sway with her until, with one last long caress down his spine, Jane stepped back.
Andy’s head spun, his heart pounding its rhythm out in his chest and ears, so much that it took a second command for him to come out of his daze.
“Ye… yes, Lady Jane?”
“Turn around for me again ... slowly.”
Once more Andy, trembling and unsteady on the red patent heels, whose shine was now matched by the gloss of his dress, turned slowly before his host. She smiled a strange dreamlike smile as if gazing at the thing she had always cherished. Again, Andy raised his eyes to the ceiling, the embarrassment of her devoted gaze almost too much to bear.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his and his eyes lowered into Jane’s. “You want to see?”
It was a question that for some reason he had not expected. The very idea that he would see himself in his newly feminised and rubberised form had not entered his head, and for a moment he remained dumb. However, then for some reason he spoke, he spoke in a soft half-whisper which dripped with femininity and touched Jane’s heart.
“Yes, please.”
For a brief moment, Jane was stunned by the clarity of his answer. She smiled. “Close your eyes. Take my hand.”
Without another word, Jane led the young beauty by the hand through the wide double doors and into the sun-filled bedroom. Instantly, the warm aroma of latex mingled with the fresh scent of her own private boudoir. Not that poor Andy noticed. His mind was still focused on the sensations created by each step atop his new dagger-like heels. For now, it was not just the pulling on his muscles and the swaying of his hips, but it was also the grip of the tight latex about his slim body and the soft fluttering swish of that skirt as it played across the tops of his thighs, left bare by the shimmering silk of his stocking tops.
It was as if he had been dipped in a vat of pure femininity.
A soft hand on his back brought him to a halt. He could tell where he was by the open balcony terrace doors, not only because he could feel the faint breeze, but also because he was completely bathed in the heat from the summer sun.
“Turn a little ...that’s it. Now ...” A hand soft a gentle rested on his arm, “… ready?”
Again, there was a pause but this time it was followed by a faint but clear nod.
“Good boy ... 3…2…1… open!”
The gasp which passed Andy’s lips drew the taste of cherry lipgloss deep into his lungs, and for a moment he could not equate himself with the latex-dressed beauty in the mirror. Yes, the deep brown eyes were his, yet now appeared wider. Yes, the soft red lips were his, yet now looked fuller, and yes, the soft high cheeks were his, but they now seemed rounder.
Oh yes, the face in the mirror was his, but it was the parting of his lips, rich and wet in their gloss coating, and the nervous bite of the white teeth mimicking his own, that made the link stunningly clear.
Andy stepped back. “Oh my.” He breathed in deep and as he stepped back, the rays of the sun through the door seemed to glisten on his dress as if they were playing across the ripples of a lake. “Oh my.”
Andy’s head span, his eyes drifting over the image in the mirror, the image of a young maid in her strange yet cute latex uniform and high heels. Oh yes, Andy’s head spun. Because Jane had said he would not look silly, she had promised he would not look silly, yet as his breath rang in his ears what he beheld was far worse.
He looked beautiful.
“I can’t believe it,” he whispered, as did the beautiful maid in the mirror. “You ... you’ve turned me into a girl.”
Softly, Jane touched his shoulder, her face close to his cheek. “No, darling, you are still the same beautifully sweet young man I met a few days ago. Only now your inner beauty is mirrored in your outer. Do you understand?”
There was a pause. A long heart-pounding pause and for a moment Jane felt a nervous knot in her own stomach. But then her feminised young man gave a silent half-nod in an action which mirrored his understanding perfectly.
“Good boy,” she purred, brushing her lips across his rouged cheeks before stepping back. She turned the bedazzled young man to face her. “However, now you are my maid, Andrew, you must act in an appropriate manner. That means firstly that from now on you will address me not as Aunt Jane or indeed Lady Jane but as Madam. I would have loved to hear Miss Jane but, sadly at my age, Madam is more appropriate. Is that understood?”
Andy paused. And nodded.
Jane sighed “No Andrew. Is that understood?”
Andy shuffled slightly from one heel to the other before softly saying, “Yes, Madam.”
“Good boy. Now, along with that address I will also expect a sweet curtsey from you whenever you enter a room or receive an instruction from me. Understood?”
It felt like adding insult to injury, as if being transformed into this glistening vision wasn’t enough, but he knew he had little choice left. “Ye …Yes, Madam.”
“Good. Now take the hem of your dress between your thumb and forefinger ...” Timidly Andy obeyed. “... That’s it. Now turn your fingers out. That’s it. Always remember to show your mistress your pretty fingernails, dear. Good, now as you raise your dress up, slip your left foot behind your right and dip at your knees. Ok?”
Andy paused. He could feel his heart pounding and was sure it could be seen stretching the latex dress in and out with each beat. He took a breath.
Then, as instructed, he began to attempt a suitably dainty curtsey. He took up the hem of the heavenly rubber dress to reveal his elegant stocking tops, then performed a sweet, delicate and very deep curtsey. Unfortunately, his high heels got the better of him and he very nearly lost his balance, only to be saved by the soft hands of his tormentor.
“Try again, Andy, but not so far,” Lady Jane said, quickly helping him to find a suitable centre of gravity. And after three or four attempts, he was performing exquisitely precise and delightfully girlish curtseys.
"Oh, well done, darling. You really are so very graceful and so very feminine.” Jane stroked his flushed cheek, her eyes holding his in their emerald green embrace. “In fact, you are so feminine I think you need a feminine name ...
* * *
“Amanda!” Andy’s eyes snapped open and instantly screwed up against the bright morning light.
“There you go again. Amanda, Amanda, every night it’s Amanda. No wonder Kelly dumped you.”
The young man’s voice rattled around Andy's sleep-filled head, denying any hope of further sleep.
“What the hell do you want, Tomo?” Andy mumbled, his head still full of sleep. “Go away.”
“That’s nice. Your best mate gives you a gentle morning call and you jump down his throat.”
“Jabbing a guy’s ribs with a cricket bat is not gentle.”
“Come on. Who is she?” This was from the second figure Andy’s bleary eyes could make out. “Who, once and for all, is Amanda?”
“What?” the sleepy young man replied.
“Amanda. Every night for the past 3 weeks it’s Amanda. You can be heard half-way across the dorm. So come on.”
For a moment Andy froze, his head clearing at the name. He shook his head, “No one. Just someone I met.”
“Oh, come on, Andy, you dream about her every night.”
“Rob ... She isn’t important. Leave it.”
“Kelly dumped you over her, so she must be ….”
Andy rose sharply from his prone position. “Kelly never dumped me ... She …. she just moved to a different college.”
“Without a goodbye,” the blonde young man added.
“Yes, Rob, without a goodbye. Now leave it.”
There was a tone to Andy's voice which made it clear to his friends that their playtime was over. “No worries. Anyway, you now have approximately 45 minutes before assembly.”
Now Andy really snapped awake. “Oh crap!”
“Thought that would get you up.”
It had taken a few weeks back in the atmosphere of the college and surrounded by his friends for Andy to begin to relax and allow the memories of his strange weekend to fade. And it had been both with a feeling of sadness at losing her and relief at not having to explain what had happened, that he had heard the news that Kelly would not be returning that term.
And so lessons came and went, exams were sat and pranks were played. However, at the back of his mind Andy could not help but think of Lady Jane, the feeling still inducing sensations of fear, shame and embarrassment. Yet below those feelings there was something else, something odd. It was an intense level of excitement at her memory, at the thought of her kindness towards him when they had first met and, to be perfectly honest, of her beauty. After all, what 17-year old would not want to carry the image of such leather-clad legs in their minds. Yes, in an odd way, he was missing her very much.
But all memories fade and, after 3 months of term, it came as a shock to receive a letter. Instantly Andy recognised the handwriting ... Lady Jane’s.
With trembling hands Andy turned the letter in his hands, gazing at it as if it were both plague and cure. He thought about throwing it away, thought about it, but at no time really did he truly contemplate it. Yet, despite the realisation it would re-ignite the now half-forgotten memories he had of that weekend, he knew he would open it, and open it he did.
Inside, along with the letter, was a photograph. Instantly he could feel the colour rushing to his cheeks and could not help but take a nervous look round to see if anyone was near. The photo was of a young woman, tall and slim, wearing a pair of impossibly tight and shiny black leather pants, teamed with a pale pink T-shirt and dagger-like high heels. Her beautiful young face was richly but skilfully made up with pinks and blues to complement her short but femininely styled copper-red hair.
Yet, behind the young woman’s seemingly sweet and excited smile and natural pose, Andy knew there hid shame and embarrassment, for even now, just from looking at them, he could feel those tight, tight, pants gripping his thighs and buttocks as, with deliberate care, Jane eased them on to him. With the idea that Lady Jane was now with him at his college retreat, Andy, more nervous now than ever, turned his eyes to the letter and, after the first few paragraphs of hellos and hope you are wells his eyes fell in shock at the closing lines.
‘I can’t wait to see you again. I hear that Summer term ends in one week and that you are then on holiday for 2 whole months. Imagine what fun we will be able to have over two months. I will collect you from the college on Saturday lunchtime.
Your loving A.
“You lucky fuck!” Suddenly, Andy realises he has been sitting in stunned silence and two of his friends had not only read the letter over his shoulder, but were passing the photo around, “She is fucking awesome, man.” Andy reached to snatch the letter back but it is out of reach.
“Oh, so now it’s A, is it? So that’s your Amanda ... Amanda? Yeah, right.”
“Bet you’re glad Kelly dumped you now”
“Piss off,” Andy snapped. “Give it back.”
“Oh no, you know the rules. A ..ll babe-grade girlfriends go on the sharing board.”
Andy stood now. The idea that his photo would be pinned to the dorm notice board was too wild to contemplate. “It's not like that, we ...”
“Don’t give me just friends. Oh no, Andy. We all thought Kelly was hot but she ...” The young man waved the photo in the air in jubilation, “… is something else.”
And with that, both of his friends turned and made a break for the door.
For a moment, Andy thought of chasing them, but his eyes drifted back to the letter and, in particular, to the last lines.
Two Months. He felt that familiar knot tighten in his stomach…. Two whole months ...



  1. That was a beautiful tale of Andi's introduction and submission. Very well written, just a bit long for me. I had to return to clip off a few more pages.

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  3. (new edit comment, because grammatical mistakes:) I am discovering with delight Andy's debut with Lady Jane, who asks him to call her "Aunt", and turns him into her maid.
    I'm not yet in the meeting of him with Will; but it's an enticing prospect.
    I did not read or find the original version of "The Guinding Hand". But this one is splendid. I wonder if a rewrite by another person is not ideal. I suppose you enjoyed reading it more than writing the first version. Didn't you ?
    And thank you, Andy, for the links to the original version.