Mid week Treats

Hi Everyone

I hope you are all well.

 Time for a few mid-week treats. In cluding Amber, Skinnie and Dani.

My very best wishes to you all.

XXX

A little treat for you all and especially our friend Samantha for all her kindness to me this week XX

I have heard  from a good source that gossip about passengers on planes is commonplace, well, for those travelling alone Gossip is easily attracted.

Our Friend Amber has certainly come up trumps here, managing to slip our sweet Andy into the tender touch of two blog Legends, my word Andy could die happy from such tender kisses.

This is a lovely image from Amber, Such a beautiful representation of Aunt Jane.

And here we have Andy and Aunt Jane preparing for and taking part in a great photo shoot. I love a horse ride XXX

Thanks Kitty, Love a trip to the stables XX

 Sissy Dani has also dipped her toes into the world of Andy and Aunt Jane creating these cute little images.

I have no idea of the prices but as soon as I do  I will pass them on to eager consumers

Garden party--

Andy: Oh, Aunt Jane, I feel my hummingbird stirring. 

Narrative: Andy is in for  an afternoon of thrilling humiliating arousal....

Hotel--

Concierge:  Welcome, ma'am, We've booked you and your...companion...into the B&K corporate suite as they requested. And there's a rather cryptic message for you--"We have been waiting" signed "the Sisterhood".

Thanks Dani

And now, holding everything up is the final part of Skinnie Stallions amazing tale Office Politics.

Office Politics

By 

Skinnie Stallion

6. Office Politics – Nice Weekend

Owen soon found it wasn’t only Mrs Ericsson who wanted his out of hours support.  Others were so keen to seek out his services that Pam had to maintain a booking sheet for him.  Val on reception was asked to do similar to handle weekend bookings.   Weekend bookings proved very popular.  The husbands or partners of Lumina’s executives seemed to be away a lot. 

This Friday, when Val summoned Owen to the lobby, he found Ms Halliday waiting.  So Ms Halliday wanted a turn too.  She was laughing with Val over the paperwork.   Val took the clipboard from Ms Halliday saying, “So he’s all signed out and into your care.   Have a nice weekend Ms Halliday.”

“Oh, I shall,” said the HR executive whom Owen had admired since his first interview.  “He was my recruitment selection so I think I deserve a weekend with our lovely Office Sissy.”   She paused for a moment detecting a wistful look in the receptionist.   “As you know Val, out of hours bookings are normally reserved for senior management but, if you’d like, I could make an exception for you.   I know you and Owen started at Lumina together.  Perhaps if you’d like a Friday night….?”

“Oh Ms Halliday, that would be amazing.  My boyfriend’s away next weekend.   I’d love to have someone to go clubbing with.  Owen would be perfect.”

“Would you like that Owen?” Ms Halliday asked Owen who’d suddenly gone shy, his buttocks tightening on his XL.  He couldn’t believe that Val would want to go out with him.  He wondered whether Val had toys like the execs or whether he’d need to ask Mrs Ericsson if he could borrow hers for an evening.   Or would that be inappropriate?

“Yes,” Ms Halliday.   Owen didn’t dare look Val in the eye.  It would be interesting to see whether she was like the girls in the Secretarial Pool and members of Lumina management.   He really did need to file a report to Ms Bramley but things did keep getting on top of him.

“That’s good,” said Ms Halliday.   “Now come along Owen, I’ve got a staff car outside waiting to take me to my little place in the Cotswolds.   I’ve got a lot of dictation for you when we’re settled in the back seats.   I know you won’t be able to wear a seat belt but the driver has adapted a baby harness to keep you firmly in place.”

“Thank you, Ms Halliday,” he said, following meekly.

“Bye, Owen,” Val called after him as they headed for the doors.  “Have a nice weekend.  Keep those lips moist for me.”

Back home, Owen’s mother was concerned that he was working too hard.   It was nice that his earnings at Lumina kept increasing (there were a lot of ‘special bonus’ items on his payslips that he struggled to explain) and all very well him doing overtime most evenings and going in on Saturday mornings, but now he wasn’t coming home at weekends.   According to Owen, he was needed on Executive Retreats where members of the senior team could work on strategic positioning and entry into new areas.   But her boy was looking tired.

That Saturday she got a call on the landline.   No-one called on the landline these days.  “Yes, who’s calling?” she asked.

“It’s Claudia Bramley from Bergman and Knightley.   Is that Mrs Peters?”

“Yes.”

“Is it possible to speak to Owen, please?  I was expecting him to call and he’s not been answering.”

“I’m afraid Owen’s away this weekend.   Can I ask the purpose of your call, please?  I may be able to pass him a message when he gets back on Sunday evening.”

“Sunday evening!   Doesn’t he call in?”

“Oh, he’s very busy.  He’s on some company thing or other.   The management at Lumina is so demanding.  They keep pushing him for more hours.  Pushing and pushing.”

“I quite understand.   It sounds like he’s become a very popular boy.   Anyway, please can you ask him to call me when he gets a chance.   I’d like him to come into our offices.  Please tell him to take a day’s leave on Monday.”

“But he hasn't missed a day since he’s been back at Lumina.   And he gets overtime…”

“Monday.   Please tell him.   He can call in to Lumina.   I’m sure he’ll be due some leave.” 

7. Office Politics - Checking In

For Owen, it was the situation that did it.  It had been awkward enough telephoning Pam to say he wasn’t coming in that morning.  Coming to the top floor of Bergman and Knightley was worse.  It brought it all back.  He shivered at the recollection of being summoned to see the Headmistress at school.   He’d hated waiting outside her office while his classmates could see him quivering.  He was less worried by the boys who tended to be sympathetic and recognise his plight.  It was the girls who got to him.   They’d point at him and giggle.  He didn’t feel he’d ever get over that stigma.   He cringed at the thought of standing on the carpet before the martinet awaiting his punishment for what were normally trivial uniform offences except for that time behind the bike sheds with Alex: the girls were never going to let him forget that one.  

That feeling came back with a vengeance as he waited outside Ms Bramley’s office.   He’d been here once before when history had repeated itself at B&K with Joshua.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t learned from his mistake with Alex.   He had. He wanted to try it again.

His heart sank as he was summoned to enter Ms Bramley’s office.  He knew that he’d been poor at keeping in touch with her and failing to report.   He had to atone.  He didn’t wait for instruction.  He crossed the floor and knelt before her.  It wasn’t a time for prayer, it was the time for action. Better to take the initiative he thought as he pushed her skirt aside, hoping she wouldn't consider it an impertinence.  It helped that she parted her knees welcomingly.  Some things hadn’t changed. Owen obviously hadn’t disgraced himself too much.  She was ready for the debrief.  He set about his task, eager to show how his skills had developed after three months of intensive effort at Lumina.  

He was glad that he’d decided to tuck when he was dressing for the meeting.  It seemed appropriate given his report.   His confidence was helped by knowing that there’d be nothing embarrassing to disrupt the smooth lines of his skirt: he wanted to look the perfect PA.   He felt sure he’d never want a PA although Ms Bramley might want to check.

A tight tuck and his panties would also help to hide his XL.   Would Ms Bramley notice that an M was no longer sufficient.   He was now wearing his XL all the time.  Last weekend Ms Halliday had wanted to show him that she felt neglected.   If this continued, he was going to have to get an XXL or maybe even an XXXL.  He wondered whether he’d still be tight enough for any future boyfriend?  Boyfriend?  As if that was ever going to happen when he was working these hours.   

Owen had lost count by the time Ms Bramley commanded him to stop.  He tried to ignore the moistness gathering in his latex panties, staying resolutely focused on Ms Bramley’s delicious secretions.  He was tired and his neck was beginning to ache.  At least Ms Bramley’s desires seemed sated for now and that he’d proved he was still a well-trained B&K Boy.   All her special lessons had been worthwhile.

“So Owen, I note that your technique has come on a lot but it’s changed: you’re using much more tongue and less lips and mouth.   Very good.   But you’ve been falling down on your other duties: you owe me a report.   Have you found out why we’ve lost Lumina as a customer?”

Owen stood up. His face was dripping but he resisted trying to wipe it.  He felt a cool trickle escape his panties and run down his right leg prompting him to draw his legs together and stand as if to attention.   Once more he felt like the little boy trying to explain himself to the Headmistress.   “It’s why my technique has changed, Ms Bramley,” he blurted, his nervousness causing him to forget his prepared speech.

“Sorry?   Explain yourself.”

“I needed to keep my lips closed to preserve my teeth.”

“What?” demanded a perplexed Claudia Bramley.

“My teeth.   I don’t want to chip my teeth.   The executives don't mind, in fact they like it.”

“I’m sure they do but what’s that got to do with anything?  I want to know why they’re not buying Bergman and Knightley.   At B&K we’ve made sure our recent collections focus on the female executive.   We’ve got power suits.   Jackets with padded shoulders: very 1980s, except with leather pants or PVC pants.  Tight latex panties that show NVP under tight pants or leggings.  The executives at Lumina ought to love it.”

“But that’s the problem, Ms Bramley.  The executives don’t want tight pants.   In fact, many of the staff don’t either.   It’s why they wear skirts or loose cloth trousers rather than tight pants.”

“Why ever?”

“Because of their labia, Ms Bramley.”

“Their labia?!”

“Yes, their labia.   And clits too, in some cases.”

“Clits?!   We’ve all got clits!”

“Yes, but not pierced ones,” said an embarrassed Owen.   Despite his recent intimacy with Ms Bramley, Owen still felt uncomfortable talking about private matters.   Was that why he’d avoided making this report for so long?

“Pierced?”

“Yes, pierced.”

“Well, quite a few of the ladies at B&K have piercings.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  In fact, it’s quite the thing especially with some of our younger staff.  Tits and clits mostly, I admit, but I don’t see that’s a problem.  A little clit ring can be quite attractive.  I considered getting one myself a while back.   My mistress at the time was quite taken with the idea of having me on a lead.”  Owen blushed.   He’d never thought of Ms Bramley as someone who might have a mistress.  Still, he guessed, even Ms Bramley must have started somewhere.  

“But these aren't little.   These are large.  With tags attached.”

“Tags?”

“Yes, tags, like identity tags or ownership tags.  Some even have padlocks.”

“I can guess what they’re used for.  Labia, I assume?”

“Yes, Ms Bramley.   Although there’s sometimes even a padlock on a clit just to make life difficult,” Owen sighed, “but that’s just on the juniors.”

“And these tags, do they say anything?  I hope you looked.”

“I did, although it was difficult in the dark.   The Execs’ tags all seemed to be engraved ‘TS’.  But that made no sense since none of them are trans.”

“I see.”   Ms Bramley sucked on her pen.   Owen wished she hadn't done that.   It only made things worse with his tautening tuck.   “And the junior staff?”

“That’s the strange thing.   Most are ‘TS’ too, but a few have ‘DI’, and no way are they Detective Inspectors.   They were the ones with the padlocks.”

“Oh shit!   Shit!  Shit!  Shit!”

“Is something wrong, Ms Bramley?” asked Owen.

“Yes.  Too bloody right something’s wrong.   It means we’re in the middle of another battle between The Sisterhood and The Dark Institute.   I thought those days were gone.   Tattoos are obviously no longer enough for them.  Now it’s tagging and enforced or voluntary chastity.   Or at least one type of chastity.  The Dark Institute has always wanted control of their members.”

“I did wonder.”

“The Dark Institute expect a willingness and readiness in their juniors if they have no male trainees.  I guess this way they can guarantee control, unless The Sisterhood has got there first.”

“But who are The Dark Institute or The Sisterhood?”

“There’s no need for you to worry your pretty, little head about that.   Looks like we’re going to have to switch our focus to skirts and dresses rather than pants suits for customers like Lumina.   We may even have to offer B&K Boys with the appropriate additions.  I assume you’ve not been given any metalwork?”

“No, Ms Bramley.   Definitely not.”

“Ah well, a Prince Albert can look quite sweet on a boy, especially when they’re no longer using their thing.  A PA for a PA.   I’ll do a check later when I reward you with some deskwork for a job well done.   But first I want to brief you about your next assignment.  You might as well get back down on your knees for this.  I find it strange looking at you with my pussy juices all over your face.”   As Owen knelt, Ms Bramley started, “I think some free samples might be a way to get Lumina back as customers.   You can take those in with you.  We’ll call it a perk of you being a B&K Boy.   Then, I’m afraid we’re going to need you to resign by the end of the week……”

Owen was thunderstruck.   He wasn’t going to get his night out with Val. “Bu….”, he opened his mouth to protest but Ms Bramley was prepared and pulled his head forward and ground his face against her.   

“Based on your performance, I’ve decided to take you on as a full-time B&K Boy. You’ll start next week.”

“Bu….,” again his nose penetrated her lower cleavage. 

“Don’t worry about your contract.   I’ll get the lawyers to sort things out with Lumina.   I’m setting up a Special Operations Unit.   You’ll report directly to me.  I have some assignments that will suit a boy with your talents.    In a few minutes, I’ll check how you’ve progressed in another area or whether I need you to have more sessions with Geoffrey before we send you out again.”

8. Office Politics: Checking Out 

 “Well thank you, Owen, that is most kind,” said Mrs Sandborg placing the package beneath her desk.   “You really will make the most perfect ambassador for Bergman and Knightley.”

Owen relaxed and leaned into the moment: “Well, Lumina did send me to B&K for training.”  He felt more self-assured after his meeting with Ms Bramley.  He’d only been in the CEO’s office a few times, roughly the same number that she’d been into him.  This was likely to be the last visit.  Pam and Ms Halliday had said that Mrs Sandborg wanted to do an exit interview.  It was pointless getting nervous.  Even so, he’d put in his new XXL in readiness just in case she carried out her earlier threat.   “I hope I’ve been a credit to both Bergman and Knightley and Lumina Cosmetics.”

“You have young man.  Ms Halliday tells me you’re leaving us. It’s such a shame.  Is there nothing we can do to convince you to stay?   A raise, perhaps?”

“No, Mrs Sandborg.” 

“What about a promotion?  We could promote you to the Executive Pool and make more exclusive use of your unique talents: a useless PA but a perfectly wonderful Sissy.   Status does matter.  Would you like that?”

“It would be nice, but no.  And I like the girls in the Secretarial Pool.  I feel it would be unfair on them.   I’d prefer to be one of the girls.”

“But you’re a Sissy, Owen.”

“I know,” he said ruefully.

“A very pretty sissy, but still a Sissy.  We shall miss you.  I’ve instructed HR that we must go back to having an Office Sissy from Bergman and Knightley.   We thought the quality had gone down in recent years but dispensing with the role now seems like a foolish cost-cutting measure.   You’ve proved the value to us of having a proper B&K Boy.   You can’t beat a good sissy.   Well you can, that’s part of their charm.   B&K seem to have got their training back on track.   I’ve even recommended Bergman and Knightley to The Sisterhood: it would be far simpler for them to renew their sissy stock by working with Bergmans.”

“That would be good.   I’m sure Ms Bramley and B&K management will be pleased.   And I do hope you enjoy wearing your new B&K latex skirt.  It’s a sample from Bergman’s latest JaneStyle range.  It’s designed by Lady Jane Fullerton-Jones in collaboration with B&K’s creative director Andy Latex.”

“Jane Fullerton-Jones?  I recognise that name.  I think she’s worked with The Sisterhood before.   Andy Latex too.   I’ll definitely look forward to wearing her design.   She’ll understand the needs of a modern woman.”

“Definitely, Mrs Sandborg.   She designs with the woman …. and the sissy in mind.   She really thinks about access requirements.   I’m sure Mr Sandborg will like it too.”

“Mr Sandborg does what he’s told.   If it’s as good as you say, I may be buying more items from the collection.  I think latex does look better when trying to impress a client.  I think we need to get out reps back into latex.   And if the reps are going to wear it, so should management.  We need to establish a consistent house-style.   You’ve been good for us, Owen.   You’ve reminded me of what makes Lumina special.”

“Thank you, Mrs Sandborg.”

“But before you get too complacent may I remind you that you’re still working for Lumina until the end of the week.  It’s time for you to attend to my needs.  I have a short gap before my next meeting.   I’m only in Ponte di Roma today rather than latex so I need you to take special care.   When you’re done, and it’ll be me who tells you when you’re done, Lick and blow dry, Sissy boy, and don’t stain my skirt.”

   

“Yes, Mrs Sandborg.”

Wednesday fun

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A step into the world 

of the Fem-Factory.

They do not have the 

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empire, but offer a 

sweeter and warmer 

experience for the shy

and nervous.

Hi Everyone

 Welcome to Wednesday,

Have to say this blog interface is getting worse, apologies for the mess at the "On Patreon Today "section.

For all of you who have sent me stories and images and bits and bobs, I thank you and ask you to be patient as I find time to sit back and read and enjoy eveything.

  I should be relaxing but find myself having to work extra to make up for the collapse of the dollar /pound rate, on which Patreon is based.

Enough moaning, let's have some fun

Last time I shared a couple of items from the "Travelling Alone"  collection,so I thought I'd do it again with these.

Once again those ever welcoming cabin crew are there to offer comfort to the nerves passenger, though they might not have been nervous when they boarded.

  If you do not have any German in your lexicon then you are in the same position as this lovely lady, which just adds to the thrill.

Our dear Friend Girlie Morgane has seen in the new year with some delightful reminders of classic art and Ai world images with her usual twist of a wonderful translation 

 Now from our dear Ambre, two cute little images , the first directly connected to the piece of art posted the other day with Andy getting Foxy

  

Seems Ambre must have been visiting a very select club, frequented by the hottest and most commanding of  ladies

Before we get to Skinnie, take time to enjoy these clever pieces put together by our friend Kitka,who has tinkered with a few pieces of my art and come up with some amazing ideas.

This time Andy gets all catwoman and Then we meet the green goddess and finally we take our first look at Kitkas own world, the world were Mars Needs Sissies!

And now, drum roll, here is a new story from our dear Skinnie Stallion,Based on Ai art featured over on the Patreon

Strangest Things: Mrs Lockehart

Really, those boys!   Alice didn't understand why Mrs Teller had so many.   Surely one was enough?   When she'd got the first, Mrs Teller said it was to provide additional help about the house.   She'd tried to justify it by saying that Alice wasn't getting any younger and that maybe she'd appreciate some assistance.   It wasn't something that Alice felt she could refuse.   Not that Alice ever received any help.   The boy seemed to spend all his time running after Mrs Teller.   'Looking after her needs' was James' explanation when she challenged him, though  Mrs Teller seemed very happy with the service he provided.  And why did James always wear a kilt?   It might be the Teller tartan, but it was so short.  What kind of boy wore a kilt like a mini-skirt?  Strange boy. 

Then Mrs Teller had got a second.   She said it was because James felt lonely.   She wanted him to have a friend to play with.   Honestly, she made it sound as if James was a toddler rather than a young man of 22.  Alice thought it was more because James was starting to wear make-up and Mrs Teller wanted John to be a positive influence on him.  Unfortunately it had worked the other way: John started to wear make-up too.  Rather than discourage them, Mrs Teller had pandered to their tastes, ading a full vanity unit to their bedroom furniture.  It was soon covered in pansticks, lipsticks, brushes, mascara, eye shadows and pots of nail varnish.   From one strange boy to two strange boys.   

So then Mrs Teller had both James and John at her beck and call.   Not that either did any housework.   It just meant Alice had another mouth to cook for and more laundry.  At least there was no additional bedding since James and John shared a bedroom and a bed.  Mrs Teller said that it was more economic for them to have one double rather than two singles in the second bedroom. Not that it got slept in very often.  Alice would often find their sheets undisturbed in the morning.   Strange that. 

And then Simon had arrived.   He was a rescue boy, said Mrs Teller.   Rescue from what, Alice wondered.   Apparently he'd been poorly cared for in his last home and needed house training. Honestly, she made it sound like he was a puppy.   Perhaps that was why he slept in a basket at the foot of James and John's bed.  At least that was another saving on laundry since he just needed his blankets changed every so often. Not that the basket ever looked like it got it slept in.   James and John would show him how well brought up boys behaved.  Boys!   Why did Mrs Teller call them 'Boys'?   They were young men, though admittedly Simon was younger;  18 or 19, she guessed.   Dropped out of university to be a 'domestic', apparently.   Domesticated, more like, although his manners were improving since he'd arrived  except she had caught him kissing both James and John when she'd been moving between rooms.   She blamed Mrs Teller: she seemed to kiss her 'Boys' with gay abandon.   Hugging and cuddling them as if they were her personal playthings.  Strange woman.

They weren't just 'Boys', Mrs Teller said; they were B&K Boys.   B&K: that stood for Bergman and Knightley.  Bergman and Knightley was that fancy store in town.   Alice had never been in there: it looked expensive and way beyond her price bracket.  Mrs Teller had dressed differently since she started going to B&K.  That had changed Alice’s laundry days.    Mrs Teller had stopped wearing cotton dresses or linen.   Not even satin or silk.   Everything seemed to be shiny and not need a normal wash.   Her new things might be not need to go in the machine but they needed very careful treatment.   A lot of individual sponging and careful drying, then talcing before they were put away.  Mrs Teller had even swapped her linen sheets for rubber ones.   Black rubber ones.  Anyone would think she had an incontinence problem. She didn’t, but Alice often found curious little damp patches in the morning.   Still, at least the ironing had reduced. It was now mostly tablecloths and, of course, the boys' kilts, shirts and undies. It was unfortunate that Alice didn't feel that she could tell Mrs Teller that she thought her mistress looked ridiculous, dressing like a girl half her age.   Still the boys seemed to like it.   They spent a lot of time polishing her.   Many was the time the boys would  adjourn to her bedroom to give her a polish.   Strange she needed polishing so often but she always came down with a nice shine and a real glow about her.

Alice had been with housekeeper for Mrs Teller for fifteen years and thought she’d got used to her ways.   But then there’d been the fourth arrival.   This time it was Andrew.   Mrs Teller described him as a stray.  Apparently Bergman and Knightley wanted Mrs Teller to take in Andrew and care for him: they’d seen how much Simon had improved since living with her.     In their eyes Andrew needed a proper Host to look after him and guide him. B&K made it sound like he needed house training.  They didn’t want him running away like he’d done with his last ‘owner’.   Alice was sure Mrs Teller had used the word ‘owner’.  Strange word to use.  

It was all getting too much for Alice.   Now she had four additional mouths to cook for, and do all the laundry and cleaning for.   She was thinking about handing in her resignation when Mrs Teller doubled her wages.   Which was strange but welcome since she’d not had a raise since James arrived three years ago..

Seemingly B&K provided a stipend to the Host for each B&K Boy that they looked after.   So Mrs Teller now had four B&K Boys: two of her own and two where she was a B&K Host.  Simon and Andrew had clearly helped her finances.  Alice hoped Mrs Teller wasn’t going to get any more despite her rise.   Mrs Teller had quite a small house with just the two bedrooms on the first floor and Alice’s little bed sitting room in what had been the attic.  It was all  getting a bit cramped and noise carried everywhere.   Many was the time when the boys had to adjourn to their bedroom to get some space or go up with Mrs Teller to her bedroom.  They did like to play games in their bedrooms since Alice often heard strange noises and cries echoing through the house.  

At least B&K also helped with a clothing allowance for the boys.   They were now providing the boys’ little kilts although it looked their shirts came more from their range of ladies blouses with their buttons on the left.   And now they were wearing stockings rather than socks and their brogues had been replaced by Gibson high heels. Needs must, thought Alice. She guessed that, as a female fashion store, it was all B&K could provide but they did rather suit the strange boys.

Mrs Teller had allowed all the Boys to grow their hair longer too and have it styled.   Honestly, Alice often thought she was in a house full of girls given how all they shrieked, tittered and dressed, rather than four young men.  Mrs Teller didn’t seem to mind.   B&K had also supplied a collar for Andrew in case Mrs Teller wanted to take him out for walks.   It was probably unnecessary but here was no way Mrs Teller was going to allow her strange boy to stray.   

Mrs Teller didn't seem to care what it looked like going out with a boy on a lead.   Or what her neighbours would think about the boy being in high heels and wearing what increasingly looked like a tartan mini-skirt.   Truth be told, Alice thought Andrew looked rather cute when he was wearing his collar and stepping out daintily on his heels.   It was strange but the boy was starting to look more like a girl than a boy.   That seemed to be happening to all of them:  James, John and Peter too.   They’d all become very effeminate.   And the strange boys also were becoming ever more affectionate towards Mrs Teller: was it something in Alice's cooking or the effect that Mrs Teller had on them?

The boys followed Mrs Teller round the house obediently.   They sat with her. They curled up with her.   If there wasn’t a seat, they lolled or kneeled at her feet.  They fawned over her, desirous of her company.   Mrs Teller was most insistent that each took a regular nap in the afternoon.   After lunch, she’d take them up in turns for an hour’s lie down in her bedroom.  Copying their Mistress, James and John often did the same with Simon and Andrew.  At least it meant that downstairs was quieter and Alice could get on with dusting and meal preparation.   It was curious that they managed to get much sleep given the strange banging noises emanating from both bedrooms.

Things seemed to have settled down into a daily ritual in the Teller household.   Breakfast: Ms Teller expected the boys to be showered, made-up and dressed.   A walk, or walkies as would be more appropriate for Andrew.   Back for elevenses.   A little private tutorial upstairs with Ms Teller in her  bedroom with one of the boys, while the others read or did their nails.  Lunch.   Afternoon naps and more tutorials.   An early dinner.   Television watching for a few hours with all of them on the sofa with Ms Teller.    Alice would leave them to it and disappear to her little bedsit after she’d done the washing up.   An early night.   It was strange how things had settled down so smoothly although there was clearly some movement on the floor below during the night.   Obviously some of the boys had strange cases of insomnia and needed a comforting word with Ms Teller.

Then one day Ms Teller said she needed to visit her sister, which was strange because she never talked about her.  She said she’d be back by the evening and that Alice was in charge while she was away.  She made the boys promise to be good while she was away and good with Alice.  Mrs Teller said she’d take them to B&K tomorrow if Alice gave good reports about them.   Alice was left on her own after lunch, if you can call being in a house with four boys ‘on your own’.    Simon and Andrew had gone upstairs, presumably for their naps.  In the absence of Ms Teller, James and John had followed Alice.  They’d even offered to help with the drying up and putting away.   A first.  Maybe the absence of Mrs Teller had a good effect,  or the boys’ desire for a positive report was having a strange effect.

As they finished the putting away, James and John moved closer to Alice.   She expected them to ask what other jobs she had for them.  Instead James said, “We normally have our naps at this time Mrs Lockehart.”

“Yes, James,” agreed Alice.   He might have some strange quirks but she’d always thought of James as rather a sweet boy.

“I was wondering if you could take me up.”

“Me too,” added John moving closer to her.

“Well, I don’t know……..”

“We’d really appreciate it if you would come up with us,” averred James.   Was that his hand she felt on her bottom? 

“I’m not sure,” replied Alice nervously.

“We’d make it worth your while,” added John starting to touch the top of her blouse. 

“I’d have to ask Mrs Teller,” protested Alice.   She was starting to get a hot flush.   It was years since she’d been this close to a young man, let alone two.  Two very attractive young men.   Two strangely pretty young men.    John began to fiddle with the top button of her blouse.   James hand on her buttocks had turned into a finger that was starting to press and probe in their cleft.   She was getting more and more flustered, and feeling herself getting more and more moist.  What were these boys doing to her?   Why was she strangely attracted to them.  “Um…..boys your… Um..er….. your….. Ms... Ms Teller is not home,” she squeaked as James finger worked its way deeper despite the folds of her skirt.

“We know,” simpered John in a seductive tone.   Why did John suddenly sound so sexy to her?

“But you are, Mrs Lockehart,” continued James.

“Oh my God,” screeched Alice as James’s other hand reached under her skirt, shuffled her panties aside

and found her G-spot.  Meanwhile John gave up fumbling and tore her blouse buttons open, sliding his hand inside her bra to cup her left breast.   James pushed her head forward and held it so that John could kiss her.   Alice couldn’t move but was starting to melt.   A wave of feelings  overwhelmed her.   She’d never known passion like this.   Not with any of her boyfriends when she was younger, and definitely not with the late Mr Lockehart.  None of them had made her wet like this.    She was starting to go into a strange sensory overload as James stopped his fumbling caresses and dropped to his knees behind her.   Next thing she knew, his head had burrowed under her skirt and his face pressed itself into the crevice of her buttocks.   His tongue started to lick and probe while John tweaked her nipples and continued to kiss her, although now his tongue was inside her month.   She could feel her own knees weakening.   John pulled his mouth away.   “Don’t stop!” Alice pleaded.  It was strange going wobbly like this. 

“I think we should go upstairs,” said John.

“Yes, let’s,” echoed James, emerging from the pleats of Alice’s skirt.  He wiped his face.   “I feel like an explorer,” he said over Alice’s shoulder to John, “It’s like a forest down there.”  He stopped to pick out from between his teeth.   He shifted his focus.  “Mrs Lockehart, you should have told us.   We’ve got Simon and Andrew to fuck, but I think you should come first Mrs Lockehart.”

“Maybe, I should give myself a little trim,” said Alice.

“No, please don’t,” pleaded James.  “It will be nice to lick and fuck someone who isn’t shaved to absolute smoothness.   It will feel so much more real and raw.  And you smell heavenly.”

Alice smiled.   Her Yves Saint Laurent ‘Opium’ had been one of her few indulgences since receiving her raise.   A little smear between her legs each morning meant the scent was subtle and stayed with her throughout the day.   Alice wondered why his words, ‘real and raw’, made her feel incredibly horny.

 

“We want you to cum a lot.   We’ve wanted you for a long time but Ms Teller has always said no,” said John.     “But she’s away, and while the cat’s away…”

“…. the boys will play,” interjected Alice.   She had never felt emotion like this.  She was strangely willing.   

“That’s right Mrs Lockehart,” agreed James.   “B&K Boys.”

“B&K Boys who like to be Girls,” said Alice.   “I’ve never been to bed with a girl before.”

“And now you’ve got four.   We’d all like a turn fucking you Mrs Lockehart.   And we’d love it if you’d use Ms Teller’s strapon and fuck us afterwards.  You’d look so good with a cock on.”

“Would I?” Alice asked.   She was wondering whether this is what Ms Teller meant by 

'looking after her boys', and whether she might be allowed to join them all on the trip to B&K tomorrow.  

“I bet you’ve never fucked a boy before,” challenged John.

“Strangely enough I haven’t,” agreed Alice,  “but I think I’m about to learn.   And now I’ve got four of you. This definitely is the strangest of days."