This is a blog about Kinky stuff, at no point are any of the characters under the age of consent. This is the story of a young man discovering his true self with the guidance of a loving and understanding Aunt. It is a tricky world for those who are searching for identity and we should all offer our love and support to those who are struggling.
Monday, 28 March 2022
New Art. Mademoiselle
Friday, 25 March 2022
Its a Christeen Friday
Wednesday, 23 March 2022
Wednesday round up
Ep1 Body Double (with cliffhanger)
They saw the lights of the space jet emerge from the clouds and inky blackness before they heard it. Andy was surprised how long his Aunt waited before turning on the lights. Finally, as it neared the perimeter fence, she switched on the car headlights and the lamps that they’d stationed earlier along the sides of the runway blazed into life. Andy shivered. He wasn’t sure whether it was the cool wind that whipped across the abandoned airfield and seemed to go right through his latex business suit, or just nervous trepidation.
“Are you sure you’re going to be OK, honey,” asked Jane
“Yes, Auntie?”
“Are you sure you’re going to be able to take it. It’s very important. I’m told the Duke has some very particular preferences.”
“I’m sure, Auntie. We’ve practised and trained for this. You’ve prepared me well. I’m not going to back down now. After all, King and Country depends.”
“It’s not just King and Country, Andrew: all Earth depends. Not long now.” Even though the space jet had silencers, there was still a roar as it came down and its tyres squealed on the short landing strip. Jane hoped it hadn’t woken the neighbouring villages. The jet taxied to a halt near their car. Jane extinguished the landing lights. Only the moon and the car’s headlamps illuminated the scene. She took off the gimp hood from her latex stealth catsuit and shouldered her sniper rifle just in case they had any unforeseen visitors.
There was a little blaze of light as the door on the jet lowered. Andy stationed himself at the foot of the steps that unfolded from the door. There was silence and then the first movement he noticed was a foot appear at the edge of the doorway. A high heeled foot. A high-heeled foot with wide, high gold ankle straps. He didn't think he’d seen a more stylish ankle, not even on his Auntie. Then he gasped. He could see a trail of Larvalous slime running down her leg. Then the Princess emerged and descended the steps.
“Welcome, your Royal Highness,” said Andy with a slight deferential bow as he’d been instructed.
The Princess held out her hand. Andy didn’t know whether to kneel and kiss it, or shake it. She merely touched the back of his hand and a globule of slime dribbled on to his fingers.
“Greetings earthlings,” replied the Princess with apparent disdain. She might be beautiful, but Andy was starting to take a dislike to her: ‘Stuck up bitch’ were the words running through his head. Not a hint of gratitude about being rescued. Was all this going to be worth it for her? Except it wasn’t just for her. She turned to his Aunt, “Lady Fukkerton-Jones, I assume?” she said.
“It’s Fullerton-Jones actually,” said his Aunt, putting on her most cut-glass English accent.
“And is this your assistant?” She peered at Andy. “She’s not a bad likeness, though I say so myself. Do you think your plan will work?”
“It’s not my plan, it’s my assistant’s.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Andy likes to go through the archives in the basement of Fullerton Hall.”
“What’s that got to do with it?” asked the Princess impatiently.
“He’d come across some items from the 20th century. An audio recording about a ‘Student Prince’ that he found funny.”
“I’m a Princess not Prince,” she said haughtily, “and this isn’t funny. The sovereignty of my people is at stake.”
“No, your Royal Highness, not in the least. And there’s the security threat to Earth too. He also found an old moving picture called ‘The Photon Menace’ ….”
“It’s ‘The Phantom Menace’, Auntie,” interrupted Andy.
“Called ‘The Phantom Menace’ in which a Queen is impersonated by one of her handmaidens.”
“A Queen. That’s more like it.”
“Though, I think Andy watched more for the handmaiden than the Queen.”
“Hmmm,” sniffed the Princess.
“Anyway, he proposed the switch so that you could attend the United Galaxies Peace Conference and speak on behalf of Mars and our Solar System to stop the border threat imposed by the Larvalous and their allies. We need to hurry so that your disappearance isn’t noticed by your guards. You and Andy can swap clothes in the little shed by the runway. I’ve arranged an emergency hairdresser and make-up artiste to make sure your appearances match perfectly. There’s also a locksmith waiting to get you out of your cuffs and Slave collar.”
“Thank you. But how will your assistant cope with the Larvalous? As you see, ever since the Duke took me hostage, he keeps me coated in their slime so that I am in a near continuous state of helpless sexual arousal.”
“Don’t worry about Andy. My nephew first encountered the Larvalous when he was a cadet in Star Fleet. Somehow he managed to develop a curious set of antibodies. It means that although he still responds to the stimuli, he maintains free will. Our scientists remain baffled, but they’ve taken samples of his blood and hope to develop a vaccine that might save people on earth from being overwhelmed by base desires should the Larvalous choose to invade. At the moment, it’s our only hope for resistance should they decide to spray the planet with their amorous excretions.”
“And the Duke. How will he manage the Duke?”
“I’m sure he will cope.”
“But the Duke is not, how do you say, well endowed. He prefers to use his hands. Not just his hands, his fists.”
“Your Royal Highness, I’m sure Andy will be fine. I trained him myself.” There was a glint in Jane’s eye. “We need to get you cleaned up and detoxed, but while you still have Larvalous slime on you, it would seem a shame to waste it. Maybe it would be more sensible if you took your clothes off in the back of my limo. The girls and extraction team can look after Andy while I show you how I’ve trained him and prepared him to meet the Duke.”
“Yes, Mistress,” said the Princess, suddenly lapsing back into her slime befuddled state.
“Take care, Andy,” said Jane. “Go to the shed. Remember your training. See you in two weeks after the Conference. Love you, honey.”
“Love you Auntie.”
Half an hour later, the space jet took off with a slightly flustered Andy in a tight bustier corset, latex gloves, panties and stockings, ankle strap high heels, gold cuffs, Slave collar and a purple cape of the Mars Imperium. To complete the effect, he’d been sprayed with sticky lime jelly. Meanwhile the Princess reclined on the back seat of the limousine. There was still time before she needed to shower, have her hair put up into a bob, and adopt the austere business suit of a PA. She liked Lady Jane’s soft, delicate hands. So much nicer than the Duke’s. “Again, again,” she screeched, “please Lady Fukkerton! Again! Make it four! Please make it four!” Jane balled her fist for a fourth time. Maybe now was the time to try the Princess with two. ‘Lady Fukkerton!’ She’d show this stuck-up Princess who was Lady Fukkerton.
-----------------
Finally, after she’d screamed with pleasure for the twelfth time, the Princess began to tire. Jane looked down at a vision of ecstatic prettiness - so like her dear nephew on a Sunday morning. After a few moments respite from the frenzied attentions she’d administered to the Princess, she found the Larvalous intoxication she’d experienced from handling the slimy member of Martian royalty beginning to wear off. She looked again. As her faculties returned, her heart leapt into her mouth and panic filled her. Jane cursed that she’d not noticed sooner, realising that her own susceptibility to Larvalous poison had made her fallible: the slime had done its fiendish worst.
Her protracted, lascivious indulgence of the Princess meant it was far too late to warn Andy and abort the mission. The space jet would already have warped and radio silence in Martian airspace would be a necessity for the covert return of ‘the Princess’ to her cell. Andy was going to be discovered unless he kept his panties on during his captivity and encounters with the Duke, which was likely to be an impossibility. The Princess had said the Duke wasn’t well endowed, but she hadn’t mentioned that the same applied to her. Andy’s equipment might be modest, but it was huge in comparison to this Martian hussy. The Duke would notice immediately. She had to get a message to Andy not to take his panties off, and just slide the rear to one side. Surely, he could do that? He sometimes did with her to stop any annoying flapping. Otherwise, both his modest endowment and his identity would be uncovered. She had to get that message to him, but how? The whole mission depended on it. Andy’s safety depended on it and tears started to well in her eyes. She had to save her brave boy...............................
A cliffhanger, gotta love a cliffhanger
Thank you S
XXX
Now a quick acknowledgement of one of the most beautiful and elegant ladies on instagram. Her name is Mel Lowe and her insta is https://www.instagram.com/mellowe_moments/
She wears such elegant outfits and not just in leather and Vinyl. However in keeping with one of our blogs themes, I post these stunning images of her in leather and vinyl pants.
Now.....I hope I cause no offence by posting these, but if anyone has an issue or wishes them removed I will do so without question.
Monday, 21 March 2022
New art. It's a Boy
Friday, 18 March 2022
Christeen's Friday Foursome
Wednesday, 16 March 2022
Wednesday roundup, With Skinnie, Holden and a lot of Latex and Heels
Biker chic, Biker Chick
Jane always found it quite fun staying for a few days at her townhouse. It was easier getting to the shops, her hairdresser and naturally the clubs in the evening. It was also convenient if Andy wanted to drop by after work. It made things much more informal than when she was ensconced at Fullerton Hall. Fullerton Hall did tend to dominate the village. And a place in town made it much easier for friends to come round for a chat. Everything had a time and a place, as Jane well knew.
At the sound of the whirring engine turning into the quiet cul-de-sac, she peeked out through the kitchen’s Venetian blind while her Gaggia hissed and spluttered. “Andrew,” she called, “he’s here. Are you ready?”
“Almost, Auntie,” said Andy running downstairs with eager anticipation. “Just need your helmet. I can’t wait to see what bike he’s got. I do hope he’s in leathers. I’ve always wanted to see him in leather. Tight leather.”
“Calm down, honey. I’m sure he’ll be dressed for your ride together. Did everything fit?”
“Yes, Auntie. The pants are a bit tight but that’s only to be expected and no worse than my Freddy’s. I wish I’d had time to go home to get my gear. It’s so unusual Will doing something spontaneous like this.”
“I know dear,” said Jane wryly, “but you look lovely, though I say so myself.”
“Thank you, Auntie,” said Auntie, batting his eyelashes at his beloved Aunt. After long deliberation he’d decided to go for a pair of Ardell Double Wispies. He gave them another flutter, wanting to make sure they were secure before he put on his helmet.
“Oh honey, please stop, or I don’t think I’ll allow you out the door. You know how I like it when you flutter your eyelashes. It does tickle so.”
“I know Auntie. Don’t worry, I’ll still be wearing them this evening. What’s a Saturday evening for especially if we don’t have visitors?”
“Quite honey, though I think Chantelle may be popping round this afternoon.”
“Oh!” muttered Andy with a tinge of regret. He knew and accepted Jane still had her girlfriends and that he wasn’t her only love, but he was still a bit envious.
He opened the door and walked down the path as Will pulled up at the kerb outside and the engine puttered to a halt. Jane followed him to the doorway, drinking her coffee. Andy’s mouth opened wide. Will was astride a turquoise Vespa, very like the scooter he used to ride in France. “Hi, Andy,” Will said. “Wow! You look … well … amazing.” Andy thought Will looked as handsome as ever, but he couldn’t believe what his friend was wearing, nor what he was riding.
“Thanks, Will, but what is that? I thought Aunt Jane said you were coming round to give me a ride on your new bike.”
“I am. This is it. I wanted to show you. I’ve only just picked it up from the showroom.”
“A scooter!”
“Yes, a scooter. Isn’t it great? I know you said you used to ride one of these and how good it was for getting around town, so I thought I’d get one.”
“I know, but a scooter. I thought you were getting a proper bike.”
“This is a proper bike,” said Will, sounding hurt.
“Sorry, yes, it is but I was expecting something a bit more like a motorbike than a scooter.”
“But I’d need a licence for that. I’ve only got a provisional licence at the moment. I’ve done the training: I’ve had CBT.”
Jane let out a little giggle causing both boys to turn and stare. “Oh, nothing,” she said with a smile. “I’m so glad you’ve had CBT.” She’d give him CBT for all the angst and heartache he unknowingly kept putting her lovely young sissy through. While the two continued talking, she started to fumble with her phone.
“But you’re not dressed for it Will.”
“And I suppose you are? What are you wearing?”
“Like I said, I thought we were going biking. Proper biking. All my gear’s at Fullerton Hall with my Beemer so Aunt Jane has lent me hers. Or as close as she can manage.”
“I get the jacket and the helmet, but the pants?”
“Auntie said her Paige Hoxton’s and Cindy’s were too good for biking, but that I could borrow a pair of her Joseph Skinny’s. Don’t you like the look?”
“They look … well, er … fabulous on you. But aren’t they a little, er, snug?”
“They’re just right for a boy like me,” Andy said modestly.
“And the boots?”
“Auntie didn’t have her biker boots here. Like me, all her real gear’s back at the Hall. So she lent me a pair of her Kate Bottas. They’re 120s not 85s: she had them made specially.”
“But the heels..!”
“Yes, aren’t they wonderful. They make the ankle turn much more shapely than the 85s.” Aunt Jane watched and felt an inner glow that wasn’t just from her last gulp of warm coffee: her boy was turning out so well. Quite the little lady: so stylish, so knowledgeable. “The Louboutin designers in Paris say that they’re going to consult Auntie in future.”
“Can you walk in them?” asked a perplexed Will.
“Of course, silly. It’s not like they’re six or seven inch heels. These aren’t even five so they’re perfectly manageable.”
“Oh, er, right,” said Will giving him a somewhat quizzical eye. “And Andy, are you wearing make-up? It looks like you’ve got lipstick on.”
“That was just Auntie having fun,” replied Andy evasively. “She said that if I was going out dressed in her clothes like a biker chick, I might as well look like one,” quietly ignoring the last ninety minutes when he’d sat in front of a mirror meticulously preparing. “Does it suit me?”
“What? What a question! You’re Andy. My friend Andy.”
“But does it suit me? Auntie says she likes this look.”
“Andy, you look stunning. I’d hardly recognise you. Your face looks amazing and you look incredible in that outfit.”
“He does look chic, doesn’t he Will?” cut in Jane. “A real biker chick for you to have riding on your saddle.”
“Yes, Lady Jane. He does look, how can I say, ‘pretty’. As pretty as any girl.”
“You should say it Will. He looks very pretty.”
“Thank you, Will,” said Andy, not knowing where to look. “Anyway,” he continued quickly changing the subject, “what about what you’re wearing? You can’t wear that. It might be the first warm day of the year, but it’s hardly like summer in France or Italy. It’ll be cold when you ride. And flip-flops are hardly practical. Not with the kick-stand”
“I’ll be OK.”
“Well next weekend, I’m taking you to my bike shop to get you kitted out. It’s not safe riding in the UK like that.”
“If you say so.”
“Andrew,” interjected his Aunt again, “you can’t do next Saturday. You’re committed to Day Care until the end of term. You’re only free today because it’s half-term.”
“Day Care? Is that why you’ve not been around the last few Saturdays.”
“Yes, Will.”
“Why do you need to go to Day Care?”
“Oh, just something Auntie booked me into,” said Andy. “Nothing you need worry about,” he added hastily, glad his foundation and powder helped him suppress a blush
“So where are we going? I can’t see us racing along country lanes on your Vespa.”
“I was thinking about going down to the front and maybe having a stroll near the pier. Then some fish and chips followed by a lolly.”
“Oh!” Andy wrinkled his nose slightly. “That would be … nice. I think I’d prefer just an ice-cream.” He really didn’t want to test the tightness of his Auntie’s Skinny’s.
“Yes, Andrew likes a sixty-nine,” chipped in Jane with a twinkle in her eye.
“Really, Auntie, it’s a Ninety-nine,” corrected Andy. I like a Ninety-nine.”
“Well, you certainly go down on that flake really well,” said Jane. “You should see him lick and suck it, Will.”
“I’m sure I will,” said Will, his eyes opening wide in wonder. What was it between Andy and his Aunt?
“Honey, if you’re going to be sucking on one of those, I’ll fetch your lippie. Which one was it, darling? Your Charlotte Tilbury Miss Kensington, or the Dior Rouge Osée Satin?”
“The Miss Kensington, Auntie. And please can you bring my compact?” requested Andy. “I may need to touch up my powder and need a mirror.”
Will looked ever more baffled by this interplay. It seemed Andy was more than a little familiar with make-up especially if he had his own compact. As Aunt Jane went indoors, he asked, “Do you wear make-up often when you’re with your Aunt?”
“All the time, honey, I mean, Will” said Andy initially forgetting himself and then getting all embarrassed. “Let’s go.” Will grabbed the handlebars and swung himself astride the scooter and Andy prepared to mount the pillion. He was relieved when his Aunt swiftly reappeared and came down the path bearing a gold lipstick and a discrete black compact.
“Here you are darling,” said Jane, handling them to him. “Slip them in your pocket. And boys, I think Andy needs to drive.”
“What?” said Will.
“You’ve only got a provisional licence,” advised Jane. “You can’t carry a passenger. Only Andrew has a full licence.”
“Really?” said Will.
“I’m afraid so. You need to swap places.” As Will dismounted with evident displeasure, a yellow Mazda MX-5 squealed into the close and halted in front of Jane’s garage. A tall girl, tanned the deepest shade of crystal black bronze, her raven-black hair swept back tautly in ponytail, got out. She was wearing stretch blue denim jeans that looked like they’d been sprayed on, dagger high-heeled white ankle boots and a tight pink tee-shirt that left little to the imagination. Large gold hoops hung from her ears. “Oh, Chantelle’s here. She’s a bit early.”
“Hello, your Ladyship.” The girl walked up to Jane who was stood at the end of the path and kissed her on the lips then stared at Andy. Andy scowled as he mounted the scooter. “Who’s the pretty girl?” she announced to no-one in particular. She walked towards the scooter: “Seeing someone else, are you: I thought you were my squeeze when Jane allows.” She alloked Andy up and down admiringly. “Don’t you look chic!” she exclaimed. “Love the boots. Aren’t you the most adorable thing: the perfect biker girl.” She looked across at Jane: “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Go right ahead, pet,” said Jane, at which Chantelle gave Andy in turn a deep kiss on the lips. “You look positively edible, sweetheart. And is this your young man? Isn’t he the lucky one? How long have you been Andy’s boyfriend?”
“I think that’s enough, Chantelle,” said Lady Jane. “Have you been drinking Red Bull again?” Come here and let the two lovebirds go. And you two: no going on the beach, and definitely no going under the pier. I don’t want the heels on my Loubous getting damaged on all those pebbles.”
In the wing mirror, Andy could see a tongue-tied Will looking ever more flustered. Andy looked over his shoulder and said, “Get on the back, honey, we’re going.” Still checking his wing mirror, he quickly pulled out his gold lipstick and went over his lips. That Chantelle had really messed them. “Helmet on and hold the strap,” he instructed Will. The rear of the bike sank slightly as it took his friend’s weight. Then he felt an arm curve round his waist. It held him tight. He could feel Will press against him. Heaven.
Fortunately Will’s new Vespa had a push button and didn’t need a kick-start. Just before he pressed, he felt Will’s helmet bump against his and heard his friend say, “Andy, please can you show me how you eat the flake on your Ninety-nine?”
“Sure will,” Andy replied and the engine on the scooter whirred into life, and the bike pulled away towards the main road.
“Don’t they make a lovely couple,” said Aunt Jane, semi-rhetorically.
“Yes, but your boy looks like he needs something more than a bike engine throbbing between his legs,” said Chantelle.
“I’m sure you’re right darling,” responded Jane. “And what would you like throbbing between yours this afternoon? Or have you just come for some lunch and a cup of tea?”
Wasn't that so much fun?
Thank you my dear Skinnie XXX
Now a question, why the heck are these things so flipping hot? what is it about a sleek heel that turns us on so?