Fun in the Village. Chapter 4. by Mistress Leather Beth

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Hi Everyone

  Hope you are all well, midway though, what to me, is a rather exhausting week, so much to juggle in life and work, could do with a holiday.

  Which is what our blog is really, a holiday from all that stuff and where better to spend it than in the sunny Village with all our friends, thanks to the talents of  Mistress Leather Beth.

  So here we go with Chapter 4.

XXX

Andy

Fun in the Village Chapter 4

by

Mistress Leather Beth

The name on the HotHouse lease was Lois Watkins, but clients, staff and the wider local kink community knew her as Madame Stella, the name under which she had accumulated quite a sizeable fortune as a purveyor of discipline and ancillary services around the world, from Hollywood glitterati in LA and US cabinet secretaries in Potomac mansions to Middle-Eastern oil sheiks in Dubai and a Swedish princess in a cabin east of Linköping.

But burn out comes to even the most dedicated and enthusiastic of practitioners in any field, and she had finally decided to return to her roots and see what turned up.

And what turned up, within a few days of settling back in the old ‘hood, was bumping into one of her oldest friends, Izzy Hamilton, along with her husband, George Cooper. Izzy’s nom-de-kink had been Lady Magdelena, and she and Madame Stella had even operated in tandem during their time at University, before Lois’ wanderlust took her abroad.

George was a very successful businessman (although a barely adequate housemaid) and, with Izzy motivating him, they had a more than pleasant lifestyle, to which the recently extended double garage contributed considerably. She had been considering setting up a little kink-friendly business in premises which she’d noticed had become vacant, and when she asked Lois if she would be interested in joining as a partner, Madame Stella had jumped at the opportunity. She’d been willing to invest financially, but Izzy insisted on getting George to sign the cheques, as extra punishment for the recent breakages while washing up.

Now, some three months later, Stella, in severe charcoal business suit and Loubou So Kates, a combination which had earned her almost as much as any thousand dollar catsuit, was studying the little drama unfolding out on the pavement. A stunningly glamourous boy, a handsome young man, a biker babe type, and, if she were not mistaken, a mother and son. All the makings of a profitable afternoon for HotHouse. She called to Chloe to come through from the back room.

“One minute, Madame Stella.”

“If you two can climb off each other’s tonsils,” said Kat, without looking over her shoulder, “You’ll see that we have company.”

Andy and Will complied, albeit reluctantly, but then became all attention as they realised whom Kat was talking about, walking toward them at about a hundred yards distance, but fixing their attention solely on each other in low conversation, before Carmel made a gesture, pointing towards HotHouse.

In truth, it was an intriguing, rather than a spectacular sight. Mother and son were both dressed conventionally in t-shirt, skinny jeans and trainers, and if Carmel’s scooped neck line displayed a more than healthy eyeful, closer inspection left the decided opinion that, by way of a clever use of cosmetics, Joe was making a very good effort to deny, or at least hide, masculinity.

It hadn’t taken long for the boys to appreciate that Kat didn’t do subtlety, and the Rashleighs were still some distance away when they were shocked out of their tête-à-tête by a piercing, two-fingers-in the mouth style whistle, followed by a wink in the direction of Andy and Will. Carmel and Joe, somewhat stunned, found themselves brought to a halt outside the door of HotHouse, and a couple of seconds later Andy, Will and Kat were alongside.

“Well,” said Will, not wanting Kat to have all the fun, “this is a pleasant surprise. I hope you’re not going to the trouble of buying new outfits just because we’ll be coming along with Aunt Jane to Snowdrop tomorrow to see you? Just a spot of kinky window shopping, perhaps?” For it was plain from the window displays that HotHouse specialised in latex, leather, stunning heels and other ‘fun clothes’, to use Kat’s phrase. Indeed, if this was what was on display to the passing public, then what exotica might be inside?

“Not at all,” said Carmel with an almost defiant smile, “JoJo’s been anxious for some time to shop in person, rather than online.”

“And I’ve got a huge tip that needs spending,” said Kat, patting the small, tight pocket on the left buttock of her leggings. “Come on, JoJo, I need some advice. How should I spend it?”

With that, she placed Joe’s right hand on her pocket, opened the door and crossed the threshold, with Joe following, stroking, fondling, as though his hand were magnetically attached.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Rashleigh,” said Will, “You’ll have to forgive our friend Kat, she can be a little over the top at times.”

“Forgive her?” cried Carmel. “I think she’s wonderful,” she said, watching as Kat held up a slate grey leather waist cinching corset against Joe’s chest.

“You’d look so good in something like this, don’t you think” said Kat. “Just imagine, a tight little waist to make your chest larger and legs look longer, a tiny latex skirt, and killer heels, that’s the sort of girl you want to be, isn’t it, JoJo?”

“Well, but, y-yes, but-but, how did you know?” stuttered JoJo, wondering to himself whether it would be OK to give his hand a sniff and inhale the perfume of Kat’s pants.

“Be fair,” she replied, “the two of you aren’t very good at hiding your kink, especially in as kink-positive a place as the village, with experts like Jane and Andy.” (Will leaned toward Andy and whispered, “Ooo, so you’re an expert, are you? Can we play with some of your expertise when we get back?” To which Andy replied, “Only if you’re a very naughty boy.”) Cue more giggles, as they strolled towards the back of the shop to see if they could find any of the ‘exotica’.

Their attention, or at least Will’s, was quickly drawn by a display of gags in all manner of types, designs, colours and materials. Andy, meanwhile, was fascinated by the choice of ropes and other restraints. Kat grinned as she imagined their imaginations (and libidos) working overtime.

However, it was Carmel’s smile which seemed to light up the shop as she watched Kat gradually make JoJo feel more and more the girl that she’d known that he’d dreamed of being from early puberty.

At this moment Chloe appeared, causing Kat to do a double take.

“Chlo, is that you, babes? Looking hot!” Chloe broke off from smoothing the last few wrinkles of the latex catsuit which formed her HotHouse uniform, and gave Kat a big hug, which resulted in that wonderful sound of leather and latex together.

Across the way, Andy and Will both looked at Chloe and instinctively reached for each other’s hands. They were both remembering the occasion, a few months earlier, when Jane had been delayed and had had to phone Will to ask him to meet Andy. Will had found him at a bus stop, clad in similar head to toe latex. Will had automatically reached out to take Andy’s hand to reassure his friend. Now, the sight of Chloe brought back memories of that sweetest of moments.

“JoJo, this is Chloe, an old friend of my sister. Chloe, this is JoJo. I’m helping his mother with his feminisation.” JoJo gulped at the baldness of Kat’s statement, and at the sight of the super-cute little latex vision before him. He stuttered a form of hello, then excused himself to speak to his mother about her opinion of a pair of booty shorts he desperately wanted to be seen in. 

“I’d heard that you’d come home early from your gap year travels,” said Kat. “What happened?”

“My own fault, really, I suppose,” said Chloe. “Travelling the world with that baby sister of yours and your mad cousin was a stupid idea.”

“How come?”

“Well, I knew that sex would take up a lot of the menu, and I was looking forward to it, but those two little rabbits are just OTT. At least I have one or two standards.”

“Well,” said Kat, “I knew what cousin ‘Tash was like, but Nikki’s just as bad?”

“Worse, almost. But, anyway, this job is going to be great experience for my Uni course,” added Chloe

“What are you taking?”

“Psychosexual anthropology, with specific emphasis on the development of paraphilias”

“So, kink?” translated Kat.

“Near enough. Anyway, Madame Stella is giving me ‘the look’, so I’d better get over there and help her to relieve your girlfriend and his mother of some cash. See ya.”

Andy and Will strolled over to Kat, each carrying two bags full of assorted ‘goodies’. “Thank goodness I brought some birthday money out with me,” said Andy. Will was amazed at how so much cash could fit into such a small purse. With that, they let Kat know that they would be going back to the car. She nodded, knowing exactly why they were looking forward to some time in the back of the Nissan.

She turned to see Carmel and JoJo over by Madame Stella’s little table, barely big enough to hold the card reader, but was then taken aback when Carmel produced a Coutts’ World Card, sometimes referred to as The Queen’s Card. She must be seriously loaded.

Madame Stella had seen such a card before. Some of her former clients seemed to have a perverse delight in having their payments traceable. Naturally, Stella charged them extra to cover ‘admin’. But, although she was curious to know how this attractive, albeit nervous woman had qualified for such a high status card, discretion was second nature to her.

“You don’t mind if I borrow JoJo to help me carry my things back to the car, do you, Carmel?” In fact, Kat needed no real assistance, her only major purchase having been a pair of OTK, 5” boots, which, for someone as tall as Kat would normally only look good if made to measure. But she’d been lucky to find that Stella had given thought to such problems when ordering stock, and Kat was looking forward to getting them home. Giving Carmel a quick double bise, she handed JoJo the box, put her arm through his, and exited HotHouse, leaving a bewildered Carmel listening to Stella complimenting her on JoJo’s successful feminisation so far.

“You’ll both be welcome back here at HotHouse at any time,” said Stella, “and if either of you, or your friends, has any ‘particular’ requirements, I’m sure that we could arrange for you to be catered.”

Carmel managed to stifle her reaction to Madame Stella’s final sales pitch until she’d left the shop, but her laughter almost choked her on her way back to the Mercedes.

To Be Continued