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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

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Showing posts with label Skinnie S. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Skinnie S. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 August 2026

Wednesday full house

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Hi Everyone
   Quick one before we start. This is the last round up for 2 weeks, I'll be back here on Wednesday from September. 
It's purely a time thing.
I will still be here Monday and Friday.
However, by the time I get back things will have really built up.


  In the meantime.
The shiny lens has caught Susanna Reid in its gaze before, thay flirty smile, those strokes of her hair, that knowing look in her eyes, told me she was hiding something. 
Well finally the lens locked on and.
So what I hear you say, we have seen this before and some of us would love Kate to join her. (For our overseas readers, that's Kate Garraway on the left). But what if there was more.....what if we have............. the video?!?!?
   Scroll to the bottom if you dare..............



Wait.... save that as a treat,  before you scroll off, we have lot's more to get through.

2 examples of the delights of travelling alone. However is she having second thoughts, was this all a step too far

Now the moment has arrived, the eye contact, the smiles, the innocent flirting, surely she had expected this...hadn't she?




Our friend Amber brings us these images of Andy and Jane as the Latex awards, where Andy was presenting the award to B&K Maids for service provider of the year.





Funnily enough Rhys and Sofia were there on the same night.
For those who have no idea who these two are you need to pop over to the Patreon




Now then

  I had been waiting until this show was broadcast over here before I posted anything about Maura Higgins on Traitors US.
  Fortunately for us Skinnie S has presented us with this amazing clip of her in the most stunning of Latex outfits.
 Wanna make an impression...here's how




Here are 3 very cute images from our friend Sissy Dani


In preparation for Bergman & Knightley's new ad campaign, Andy goes blonde! (Only his hairdresser--and Aunt Jane--know for sure!)



Saw a video of a woman walking in heels on a treadmill and had this inspiration for Andy's daily exercise:


"Office girl" scenarios  are some of my faves (I even came up with the term "sex-retary" to describe them), so here's Aunt Jame introducing Andy to his new job in her organisation










And now for the time being anyway (we hope) the final part of Skinnie Stallions amazing Office Politics story.



12. Professional as ever


Did he but know it, Owen was quickly becoming a lynchpin in Claudia Bramley’s special projects group.  Without effective financing, the group would not be able to function.  The fact that Owen was oblivious to what he was doing was an obvious plus point.  The absence of an enquiring mind continued to surprise and delight Claudia.   Owen also had a profound work ethic, no doubt engrained in him by his mother.   If he ever seemed tired and needing motivation, Claudia simply needed to dangle the prospect of a few hours with Geoffrey as a reward for successful completion of an assignment.


‘Follow the money’ is a standard investigative procedure coined by Watergate’s Deepthroat.   Tracking money flows can reveal a network of nefarious activity.   Fortunately no-one in Interpol or the intelligence services has seen the need to explore the workings of The B&K Temping Agency or to recognise the better axiom of ‘Follow the sissy’.   But then intelligence would be the last thing anyone would expect in B&K Temping’s special agent and very own ‘Deeptongue’.   In Owen they might find a buttplug most always, a mouthful of clit quite often, a strapon on occasion, a cock if he is lucky, but never intelligence.


Claudia Bramley is careful to select finance companies with female principals who are likely to be susceptible to Owen’s charms.   This month she has sent Owen to build relationships with AXON Global.   AXON has finance affiliates in Caribbean tax havens as well as close links with local legal practices.  The Caribbean will provide Bergman and Knightley with a significant stepping stone into potentially lucrative South America markets as well as presenting a new route into the lower states of the US.


It doesn’t take Owen long to work his magic.   He’s going up in the world and  quickly gains access to all areas.   The beauty of using Owen is that nothing can be intercepted.  There’s no need for emails, letters or phone calls when you have Owen as a go-between.  Nothing need be written down or recorded.   Claudia knows that no-one will suspect a pretty, but (sorry Owen) thick as pig shit Office Sissy.  Looks can deceive.  Despite little between the ears, they won't know he has the virtue of being able to remember short, coded messages especially if they rhyme.   


AXON is quite comfortable providing letters of credit and escrow accounts for Brunnings and Keenan, or whatever registered shell company Claudia has set up for this venture.   All Owen has to do is transfer the details.   It can take a while for Owen to remember the message.   It has to be rammed into him.   It can take a while before Owen gets the rhythm and is able to chant it back.  Owen loves these teach-in sessions.   Maybe he’s a slow learner for a reason.   Perhaps he’s cleverer than we give him credit for.


Today he’s with Isabel Noren, AXON’s lawyer.   She needs to finalise some details with Claudia Bramley.   After the Panama Papers and given the sensitive nature of Bergman and Knightley’s shadow operations , it’s far too important to entrust to normal mail services.   Owen is naturally the preferred route.   Owen’s been finding that Ms Noren wants a lot of his time even when there aren't any messages to convey.   Ms Bramley tells him not to worry since it helps establish his cover story.  Cover story?   Owen doesn’t understand.   He simply thinks that Ms Noren likes fucking him.   He certainly likes her fucking him.


Today is just another cover session.   “Thank you Owen.  That was most professional, as ever,” says Ms Noren after Owen’s finished giving her another licking out.



“You are welcome Ms Noren.  Please may I be excused to the bathroom.”   Owen feels desperate.   Not only does he need a pee after spending an hour beneath her desk but he’s also got a massive hard-on.  Ms Noren had work to do and hasn’t fucked him which has left him on edge.   He leans forward trying to hide the errant bulge in his skirt.  He wishes he’d tucked.   He should have remembered that she only fucks him after hours or at weekends when the office is quiet.    


“Of course, just let me know if you need a hand.”

"That would be very helpful Ms Noren.  Because of the new law, I still get some looks when I use the ladies bathroom so it helps if someone from management takes me there."


"I understand, Owen.  I don't think some of our more junior staff really appreciate the role of Office Sissy.   They will of course, in time.  Sorry, if they're unprofessional.   At the moment, they only pay lip service to AXON being an equal opportunities employer."


"Thank you so much, Ms Noren," said a surprised Owen, misunderstanding, as ever, what the executive  was saying, "some lip service would be lovely.   It's been so long.........." 


"Don't get ahead of yourself, sissy boy.  A helping hand was all I was offering."


"That would still be very nice, thank you."   Provided Ms Noren had time and  even if he didn’t get sucked, Owen was looking forward to her giving him nice slow wank in one of the Ladies’ cubicles.  He could always grind on his Hummingbird and dream of Geoffrey.  Perhaps he can practise that rhyme with each jerky stroke she gives him.



13. Office Politics: In-flight Entertainment


If Owen had thought, he would have realised that Ms Bramley’s offer of a trip to Miami would come with strings attached.   He was looking forward to a few days of sun and sand or just relaxing by the pool to recuperate after his boob job. He was proud of his two new puppies and wanted to pamper them.   He’d heard about some the clubs in Miami and thought they would provide a perfect playground to show them off.


Fortunately, Ms Bramley knows that one of the great virtues of her pretty Office Sissy, the crowning jewel of The B&K Temping Agency, is that he doesn’t think very deeply.   It’s his special talent.   And with his new breasts, he’s got even more to offer.   They’re her reward to him for performing so well since becoming a full-time B&K Boy in her special group.


B&K’s Caribbean operation has been growing rapidly in the last few months, helped significantly by Owen.   Financing the expansion has presented few difficulties thanks to his strenuous efforts with AXON.   The remarkable growth in the Caribbean has prompted Bergman’s senior management to pivot away from Latin America towards more a lucrative markets.   Cruise liners have proved fertile ground for both for hire and sales of B&K Boys.  Lots of widowed ladies appreciate having a companion for their cruise, especially one they can take home with them afterwards.   And it’s not just single ladies.  Older couples find a B&K Boy can bring back that extra bit of sparkle, while honeymoon couples find that a B&K Boy can cater for all tastes in a marriage and not just in the kitchen.    


Business is so good that it’s required an expansion of recruitment and B&K training facilities in the UK.  Tempting as it might be for B&K to open up supply by introducing cheaper Latin American sissies, US customers prefer a British Sissy with impeccable manners and a loveable accent.   It also means B&K can avoid imitations and maintain prices.  Counterfeit B&K Boys have already become a serious problem on the internet.   Cheap Chinese sissies may be available but they tend to be unwilling Incels exported by the Chinese government to relieve their growing domestic pressures.  Customers prefer the authentic and readily distinguishable article from B&K UK: a British B&K Boy is always eager to please.


And there is no B&K Boy more authentic than Owen, boobs notwithstanding.   Claudia allowed him a few weeks at the B&K Health Spa to recuperate after his surgery and for  deportment training in how to walk properly with his new front loading.  He’s also been given some extra padding in his bum so he can now really wiggle.   A strict diet and exercise helped Owen’s new figure to develop its own natural curves while scarring and soreness diminished.  Waiting a few weeks also means that he’s safe to fly.   She wouldn’t want anything untoward happening to her prize asset.


Owen finds he’s not flying as a passenger to Miami but as a temporary member of cabin crew.   B&K Air may not yet rival SlickAir as a prestige carrier, but it knows how to turn on the style for valued customers or business partners.   Over the last few days, B&K’s managment in London has been entertaining Kassidy Dallas, an entrepreneur skilled in supplying talent to fashionable Florida resorts like Sarsaparilla and Mor-o-labia.  A private flight back is the least B&K can provide, especially when Claudia has placed Owen aboard and ready to give his fun bags an excursion.

“Ms Dallas, this is Owen, your personal hostess.   We hope you enjoy your flight,’ says the Pilot.


“Ah, so this is the famous British Sissy I have heard so much about.  Quite a girl, ain’t she?”


“Yes, Ms Dallas.   He’s here for your exclusive use.  Anything you need, he’ll be on hand to serve you.   Won't you Owen?’


“Oooh, can I sit on your hand, please?” asks silly Owen to Kassidy’s surprise. 


“Wait until we’re airborne, Owen,” interjects the Second Officer.  “I’m sorry Ms Dallas, he is new to carbon crew duties but very keen, as you can see.   She turns to Owen: “Remember Owen, these are separate seat aisles.   You’ll have to sit on the arm of Ms Dallas’ chair or bend over in the aisle if you want that, but your priority is catering for Ms Dallas’ needs not your own.   When we’re airborne, you may want to show Ms Dallas how her seat reclines and can be made up into a bed.”


“Yes, Second Officer,” says a slightly crestfallen Owen.   He’s not used to taking instructions like that.


“Don’t worry, Owen,” says Kassidy in a reassuring slow southern drawl, “Ah’m sure you an’ I are gonna get along jus’ fine.  Jus’ fine.   Now what’s a southern gal gotta do to git a drink round here before you an’ me takes off.”


Oh how we hope for more from Owen and the ladies.



But wait, did I not promise something to send me off on my summer break in style.

Good morning Britain, this is the news



It's a shame we could not get the sound up on it but the shiny Lens only works on image,but our lip readers here believe Kate was trying to convince Susanna to stand up and show the viewers the rest of the outfit.
  You can tell by Susanna's hesitation that she was not too sure about that. It's that tell-tale pause and the way she is looking at the monitor just off screen that give away her mixture of uncertainty and excitement.
  Kates reaction when she does stand up says it all, she is just so amazed at her friend and colleagues bravery ,but little does she know, that final little look off screen from Susanna hints that she has a surprise in mind for Kate 

XXXX

See you soon




Wednesday, 17 May 2023

Wednesday treats

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Hi Everyone
    Hope you are all well. I have been so busy of late, but that might be coming to an end now, so lets have a quick catch-up.
  What better time to catch up on a few super sweet translations of my work by our dear Girlie Morgane





Thank you Girlie, I do so adore your choices XXX


Next we have one of my favourite style bloggers from Instagram, the gorgeous and sweet Mel Lowe aka Mellowe_moments.
The celebrate gaining 100,000 followers she treated herself and us to a stunning William Wilde Latex dress and she has never looked more beautiful.








 

I would like to post more but I think my computer is about to die a slow death, so lets get straight on to a final treat.
 Here is a super sweet tale crafted by our dear Skinnie S.






Just for me



It was always tough being on the losing side.   Andy didn’t like losing but he had to accept they’d been outplayed.  It wasn’t surprising really, home or away, every year their little College side lost to the University.  Home advantage and skill counted for little when playing against a much more physical side. It wasn’t a question of being outclassed, they were simply outgunned.  It seemed so unfair playing against PhD students who were much older, bigger and stronger.   The referee hadn’t helped: she’d let them be bullied of the pitch.  


Andy had escaped the worst of the mêlées.   He’d come on as a substitute late in the second half after one of his side’s wingers had hobbled off after another crunching tackle.  His speed and agility counted for little since he rarely got sight of the ball with the University dominating possession.   At least it meant he’d largely stayed clear of trouble, but it was typical that it was the one time that Jane had come to watch.  She didn’t like him playing what she referred to as ‘ that rough game’ but had agreed, thinking that they’d be able to sit together and watch since he wasn’t in the starting line-up.   She hadn’t realised that she’d be standing on the touchline at the recreation ground.   Her view of football seemed totally shaped by watching ‘Football Focus’ although Andy was pretty sure that was only to see Alex Scott.  (It was the reason he watched, after all.)  He already expected some forfeit or payback when they got home. 


Even on the touchline, Jane had certainly had an impact: the College’s only decent chance had been when she’d bent down to pick-up a piece of litter and the University lost possession.   Maybe they were dazzled by the reflection off her  shiny PVC pants; maybe it was the exquisite curves of her thighs and bottom; or maybe just the sight of a beautiful lady poised, bending and balanced on 6” dagger heels when they were slipping and sliding on the slippery pitch.   It was a distraction that they were unused to at the University.  Even the referee lost her composure.


Andy hadn’t joined the team in the changing room before the match, and he definitely wasn’t going to be joining them in the showers afterwards.   He’d changed into his kit before they set out from Fullerton Hall, and he’d come home grimy and mud splattered afterwards.   Jane wasn’t happy. It wasn’t as if his team was going to be celebrating afterwards.  She’d needed to spread a plastic sheet to protect the passenger seat of the Tesla.  She thought he was just being silly.   “Just for me” she’d said when they’d had a little game yesterday evening painting his toenails: part of her Friday night fun.   She was sure the team wouldn’t mind,  but he was adamant about not showing them to his colleagues nor going in the showers after the game. Such a silly boy, she thought.  


Even when they got back at Fullerton Hall, Jane was still irritated with him.   His filthy boots had left stud marks and soiled the carpet in the passenger footwell.  The carpet would need cleaning and the plastic would need to be disposed of.  All jobs he could do before Church tomorrow.   And he’d wasted a perfect opportunity.   That boy he was always going about had been playing and he’d not wanted to invite him back to the Hall.  Such a shame he’d not gone in the showers.   Surely he’d have wanted to show off his lovely toes to his friend?    If he didn’t shape up, she’d just have to invite the boy round herself.   She’d find out his number while Andy was in the shower.   It couldn’t be that difficult: there couldn’t be that many Wills in his address book.   


In the meantime, she needed to get him clean in the downstairs wet room.   She’d sort out his clothes.   And his shoes.   Especially his shoes.   She’d had them in her cupboard for a while, but now the time had arrived.   It wasn’t going to take much to persuade him.   “Just for me”, she said before he went in the shower.   “Please Andy, just for me.  You did promise if I went to your football match.  Please do it for Auntie.  Just for me.  You moan so much about me being taller than you.”


“Yes, Auntie,” he mumbled.  Yes, he did moan when he was with her, but normally for different reasons.  All he wanted to do at the moment was get out of his clammy football gear and into a hot shower.   He was sure she’d want to play more of her make-up games when he got out.  He was used to those.   But this was going to be different.   She really wanted him to wear some new footwear.   She’d kept going on about boots, specifically his new football boots and how she was fed up with him wearing them.   He’d been wearing them about the Hall (with the studs out, naturally) to get used to them.  He didn’t want them to be uncomfortable and wearing them for the first time when he played.  Perhaps she’d got him some boots for wearing at the Hall.  Maybe some ankle boots, possibly with a Cuban heel.  That would give him a lift.  A little Cuban heel would help him not to feel so small when he was with her.   She had towered over on the touchline, but she did have the advantage of 6” heels.


He lingered in the shower as long as possible.   He could tell she was getting impatient.  It was kind that she brought him a cup of tea but then she lingered just inside the door of the wetroom.  “See, you don’t mind me watching you in the shower, darling,”.  She wasn’t worried about getting splashed, droplets simply rolled off her brown PVC pants and boots.  


“That’s different, Auntie.   You’ve seen me like this lots of times.”


Jane didn’t answer.   She was musing to herself but made sure she could be heard above the noise of the shower and the extractor fan in the wetroom, “I think we need to do your fingers to match your toes.   And your lippie will have to match too.”

“Really, Auntie?  Do I have to?”

“Yes, Andrew.   Please.   Just for me.”


“Yes, Auntie,” he said rather grudgingly as he turned off the water and she stepped forward to envelop him in a long, soft towelling robe.  “Now come upstairs.   I’ve put out your things in your bedroom.”  


He was reassured to find a pair of skinny jeans and a white tee laid out on his bed.  At least she hadn’t selected anything more extreme.   That morning she’d threatened him with a corset but must’ve changed her mind and decided to go for something simpler for their ‘evening in’.    No pants or panties, of course.   She always expected him to go commando when he was staying with her.   It made things much easier later on.  


Then she pulled out a shoe box from a designer bag and handed it to him.  “Just for you,” she said.  


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He took it and stared at the lid in wonder.    ‘hristian’ it said in regular characters and  Loubouti  in a strange cursive script.  He tilted the box and read aloud the label on the side: “‘Very Privé 120 Patent Calf’ and ‘Rouge’.”   Below that was his European shoe size.       


“It’s metric,” said his Aunt.  “120 means one hundred and twenty millimetres.   They’ve got five inch heels.   You know I prefer six, but these will get you started.  Five are already big enough for a boy like you,” she said with a wry smile


A red high heeled shoe

Description automatically generated with medium confidenceHe was flabbergasted.  So much for Cuban heels.  He opened the box with trepidation.   He removed an envelope, then a folded, empty red shoe bag.   There was a tiny little red bag too.   It wasn’t empty.   He started to loosen its draw strings out of curiosity.   “Spare heel tips,” said Jane’s voice of experience.   His heart began to pound as he peeled back a layer of tissue paper, and there before him was something he’d dreamed about: a pair of Louboutins.  They glistened and shone.  “They’re yours, if you would like.”    What could he say?   A pair of Louboutins for him.   Red, patent peep-toe Louboutins.   This wasn’t playing with Auntie’s shoes like he’d done when he was a child.   Auntie was giving him a pair of Louboutins.   His very own.  “Will you wear them, just for me?” asked his Aunt.  


“Oh, Auntie, I don’t know what to say,” he replied.  And he didn’t, he really didn’t.   On the one hand he’d always admired his Aunt’s pairs of heels, particularly her Louboutins.  Her Jimmy Choos were nice, her Office were practical, and her Manolos were special, but her Loubous were in a different league.   Maybe it was the shiny red sole, but he adored how they looked on her. They were the perfect accompaniment when she was a tight pair of shiny pants, or in one of her latex dresses or pencil skirts. He’d always loved heels on ladies but he’d loved playing first with his mother’s and later with Jane’s pairs.  He'd always envied girls and that they were allowed to wear heels.    But wearing a pair  himself was something different.   Inwardly he yearned to try them on. He’d always wondered what a pair of 5” heels would feel like?   Secretly he’d always wanted to try.  Would he be able to walk in them?  


On the other , what would wearing heels say about his manhood?   Would he look silly in them?  Wearing heels was not the same as wearing nail varnish on his toes.   The nail varnish  was just a little fun.   He thought he could explain that to his team-mates.  He was sure he could explain it to his friend Will.  Even playing make-up games with his Aunt.   After all, he’d worn black nail varnish on his fingers and eye-liner some days  in his first year in College or when they were going to gigs.   Will would understand.   He hoped Will would understand.   But heels were different.    His Aunt had always liked to tease him about the height of her heels compared to certain of his features.   What would wearing 5” heels say about him.   


“Oh please wear them for me Andrew.  We had such fun painting your toes yesterday, I just wanted to show them to the best advantage.”   Andy realised that Jane had carefully selected the shade of the red nail varnish for his toes.   It matched perfectly the colour of his Louboutins.   He sat on the edge of his beds while Jane applied a little talcum powder to his feet.   He’d done it so often for his Aunt when she wasn’t wearing stockings.   He held a shoe and admired it.  The red lacquer on the outsoles and heel breasts sparkled.  The outsoles were immaculate with none of the scuff marks that developed on Jane’s well-worn pairs.   There was a delicate little platform.   Maybe ¼” of an inch.  That would give a little extra lift, a little extra height.   He wrapped his palm round the heel.  It looked so delicate tapering to a sharp stiletto point, but the shaft felt sturdy and secure.   A lovely stiff 5” shaft. Yes, he couldn’t match that.  


It  almost seemed a shame to wear them and lose that pristine look.   But wear them he must.  ‘For Auntie’, he tried to convince himself although ‘For Will’ briefly ran through his mind.   What a strange thought, he realised before settling on ‘For Me.   For Me and for Auntie.’    He could wait no longer.   He slid his feet into his new shoes.   They fitted perfectly.  His red toes glistened as they peeped from the end of the vamp.  He stood.  He wobbled slightly.  Jane held his hands and steadied him as he took his first baby steps.  “Just relax, darling.   Auntie has got you.”   

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“They feel funny,” he said looking down at his extended left leg   It looked amazing.   The heels had done something to his legs; they accentuated them.  They seemed longer. He could see the contouring of his thighs in his skinny jeans.   His ankles were stretched, his calves were tighter.  He felt taller. He was definitely taller.   He could feel the backs of his thighs taut within his figure hugging jeans.  His bum felt different too. His buns were hard and clenched.  It felt nice.  Now he understood why Jane had always insisted on selecting his jeans for him: they always came from the ladies side.  So this is how skinny jeans were meant to be worn.   Everything felt nice.  Nice and snug.   “Do I really have to wear them?”  he asked.   He already knew the answer.   He didn’t have to wait for Jane.   He knew his own answer.


“Yes, honey,” she said.   “Yes, you do.   Now let’s do your finger-nails.   They can dry while I do your make-up.”   Jane was delighted with how he looked and how he had taken to his new heels.  “Wait till you see how they look when you have matching lip-gloss.” She could tell he was excited.   Fortunately his jeans prevented any embarrassment but there was a discernible reaction.     And she’d got him out of those awful football boots.   She was excited herself.   He could spend the next few hours being her high-heeled boy.   And then, when they were both ready,  she would get him out of his jeans and ask him to put his heels back on.    He would be her girl before bedtime.    


And she had found Will’s number while he was in the shower.   At some point, she felt sure, he would be someone else’s girl.   Not soon: he still had so much more to learn.   But sometime.   When he was ready.   




*********************************************************************


XXX
Andy