{"loaderData":{"4":{"story":{"id":"d2796a7f-4a29-4dab-a8e4-45c4ced09b2b","seriesId":null,"seriesName":null,"currentUserId":"00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000","added":"2018-09-10T07:50:03.59Z","title":"The Guardian","slug":"the-guardian","shortId":"A7aVzzRH","authorNote":null,"disclaimer":null,"type":"Short","paidUrl":null,"synopsis":"An innocent orphaned schoolboy is placed in the care of a glamorous widowed relative","partCount":1,"parts":[{"partId":"e9431dac-915d-440f-a94e-51f5e30b88db","title":null,"summary":"\n\n\n\n1¾«{£HYYZ[[\\Ð[1] \n\n\n\nTHE GUARDIAN\n\n\n\n Everyone had\nnothing but sym","wordCount":7222,"readTime":36,"number":1,"state":"Published"}],"currentPart":1,"contentTitle":"Chapter 1","content":"\n\n

\n\n

1¾«{£HYYZ[[\\Ð[1]

\n\n

THE GUARDIAN

\n\n

Everyone had\nnothing but sympathy for Alan. What a way to be left an orphan. He guessed that\nthings had been going badly for his parents for over two years but the end was\nas dramatic as it was tragic.

\n\n

The Inquest\nreport concluded that his father had returned unexpectedly early from a\nbusiness trip, discovered his wife in bed with her tennis coach, bludgeoned\nthem both to death with a golf club before gassing himself in his garaged car.\nThe Headmaster at St Fort's who broke the news to Alan later described it as\nthe most harrowing task which he had faced in thirty years of teaching.

\n\n

Even greater\nanguish was caused by money worries, both Alan's and the School's. His father's\nlife insurance was invalidated by his suicide and business debts consumed what\nlittle money he had left including the value of the house. There was barely\nenough left to settle the funeral account.

\n\n

The Governors\nat St Fort's thought long and hard about the difficulty but there were already\nso many financial pressures. They concluded that it would be impossible to keep\nAlan at the School without payment of fees for another three years.

\n\n

As an only\nchild with few relatives, the only suitable candidate as guardian was his\nfather's sister. After the early death of her husband, she seemed in many ways\nto be a model guardian. She had been a Classics and Art teacher at a highly\nrated grammar school but had taken early retirement after her husband's death.\nIt was rumoured that her pension and a huge inheritance in excess of one\nmillion pounds, she would never need to work again. Her life was now devoted to\nbooks, painting and animal care, especially horses.

\n\n

Initially, she\nwas reluctant to disturb her ideal, tranquil existence with the care of a\nyoung, very vulnerable and potentially disturbed teenage boy. She had no\nchildren herself but her brother had been such a dear brother to her. Two years\nher elder, he had always looked out for her and her regard for him knew no\nbounds. Her late husband had been a darling but in truth, there would never be\na man to compare with brother. To have the care and instruction of his son\nwould keep his memory alive.

\n\n

Alan finished\nthe session at St.Fort's, said his farewells and headed south to live with his\naunt in a leafy Berkshire village. He had only met his aunt before in the\ncompany of his parents. Then she came over as quiet, demure, not at all like a\nbossy schoolteacher. But now her character seemed to have expanded.

\n\n

Her lovely large villa was beautifully\ndecorated and furnished but to say the least, her tastes were exotic. Alan\nremembered that she had taught art but it was not the sort of art that pupils\nat St. Fort's were encouraged to paint. The walls of her house were adorned\nwith paintings and sketches of nudes, both male and female. At home in the\nevening after their meal, she would draw the curtains before retiring to her\nroom to change her clothes. Her evening outfit always seemed to be monochrome,\nusually a white silk blouse with a black leather waistcoat, a short black and\nwhite or just plain black tight fitting skirt and long black boots which came\nup to her knees.

\n\n

Alan's perceptions of the world were\nchanging almost daily. Only weeks earlier, his voice had started to break and\nhe had discovered the pleasure to be had from playing with his wee wee. There\nwere boys at the school who were coarse and called it a cock. Some of the\nbigger boys would try to touch his. They would promise to show him theirs if he\nhopped into their beds.

\n\n

He did not\nknow any girls to speak to. The only girls he had ever seen were girls on the\nstreet or pop stars on television. Some of them were really nice to look at but\nhe would not dare try to speak to any of them. It was funny how when he was\nlying in bed at night, his thoughts of Aunt Joan in her evening outfit made his\nwee-wee stand up. And it just would not sit down. It made him feel restless and\nunable to sleep. But pulling the skin on his wee-wee definitely helped. If he\ndid it vigorously enough. A white milky fluid would spurt out. O dear, what a\nmess it made but it made him feel so good, relaxed and ready to sleep.

\n\n

Aunt Joan\ncould be quite bossy. After his week in her house, she remarked that she knew\nabout boys' aversion to hot water. But he really must make more of an effort to\nkeep himself clean. She stressed the importance of personal hygiene and how\nAlan was not smelling too fresh. She insisted that before his bedtime, he\nshould take a proper bath.

\n\n

The bathroom\nwas like the rest of the house, in perfect order; fully tiled and fitted with a\nlong deep bath. Alan admitted that it was vastly superior to the facilities at\nSt Fort's and way better than the simple bathroom at his old home.

\n\n

Just as his\nmother used to do, Aunt Joan helped him undress and slide into the foaming hot\nwater. As she picked up his clothes to take them through to the washing\nmachine, she told him to ring the little brass bell at the side of the bath\nwhen he was ready to have his hair washed.

\n\n

He set to\nscrubbing off the layers of sweat, grime and the rest. Leaning over to recover\nthe soap, he smelt his groin and knew what his aunt had meant. Application of\nsome soap definitely improved matters. A ring of the bell brought his aunt back\ninto the bathroom. She was now wearing a white nylon tunic like a nurse. It was\nto protect against water splashes was her explanation when she saw the boy\ngaping at her. The shampoo was applied to his greasy hair and her long fingers\nmassaged the soap into his scalp. Alan liked the tingle it gave down his spine.\nHis mother never washed his hair like this. And then Aunt Joan hosed away the\nshampoo with a shower attachment before asking him to step out of the bath. A\nsudden flush of embarrassment swept over Alan. Aunt Joan would see his wee-wee.\n

\n\n

She read his\nthoughts and told him that she had seen naked young men before. And she saw\nthem every day on the walls of her house. It wasn't the same, thought Alan.\nWith head bowed, he stepped out of the bath into the towel held out by her.\nThen she placed slippers before him and handed him a smaller towel to dry his\nsopping hair. She then told him to follow her through to a back room where the\nelectric fire was turned on.

\n\n

In the back\nroom, she sat down on a dining chair by the fire. Alan was instructed to stand\nbetween her and the fire and to dry his head and shoulders thoroughly with the\nsmall towel. While he did so, his aunt dried his legs and bottom, the sensation\nof her fingers through the bath towel took all of his attention.

\n\n

'Now turn\naround so that I can do your front,' she commanded.

\n\n

Alan obeyed\nand to hide his embarrassment, buried his head in the small towel. O God, the\ntowel was coming up there. She was drying him ever so gently, her fingers\nmoving ever so slowly behind his balls. She adjusted the towel. Holding both\nends with one hand at his waist, it was her free other hand which gently\nstroked his balls and groin. Alan could not bear to look but he knew that his\nwee-wee was standing up. A hard-on, the boys called it. The shame of it all;\nhaving a hard-on in front of Aunt Joan.

\n\n

His sobs of\nshame were muffled into the towel. 'I'm so sorry, Aunt Joan.'

\n\n

She gave no\nreply. All Alan could feel was her finger and thumb gently pulling at his tight\nforeskin.

\n\n

'I don't mean\nit, honestly. I'm so sorry. Tears choked the words in his throat.

\n\n

She maintained\nher silence and Alan felt her grip tighten as she pulled harder and faster on\nhis wee-wee.

\n\n

He continued\nto bury his head in the small towel, sobbing at the humiliation. His aunt's\nsilence added to his shame. She must be mortified. He was certain that he would\nbe asked to leave in the morning. Out on the street with nowhere to go. It\nwould be better to get it over quickly. While his mind reeled, he let his body\ntake over and pushed repeatedly against her grip. Within a minute, the\npressurised pumping brought about release. His head still covered, he had no\nidea where the milky stuff was going. At last, it stopped and his wee-wee\nstarted to soften. But still, Aunt Joan had not said a word. He fell to his\nknees, still weeping and gingerly pulled the towel down below his eyes. Aunt\nJoan sat there, dabbing at her tunic with a handkerchief. Her eyes met his.

\n\n

'Who's a messy\nyoung pup, then?'

\n\n

The tears\nstarted to well up again in his eyes. She let the large towel drop to the floor\nand took the smaller towel from his frightened grasp.

\n\n

'Come along\nnow, it's only virgin spunk. It's sure to clean off.'

\n\n

She stretched\nout her arms and beckoned him to her.

\n\n

'Give your\naunt a hug. You can do that even though you've shown that you're a big boy\nnow.'

\n\n

Alan was\novercome with gratitude and seized the offer. He rested his head on her chest\nwhere his sense of smell picked up on three powerful scents; her sweet perfume\nwhich she wore in the evenings , the warm exotic smell of her leather waistcoat\nand a much less pleasant fishy odour. She held him tightly and ran her long\nfingers up and down his back.

\n\n

After a few\nminutes, she pushed him to his feet. 'Right, time to have you tucked up in bed.\nFirst of all, go and dry your cock, darling.'

\n\n

Alan beamed\nalthough slightly puzzled by her use of that bad schoolboy word. As he emerged\nfrom the bathroom, she led him up to his room and proceeded to sit on the edge\nof the bed.

\n\n

'Before you\nput your pyjamas on, I want you to stand straight in front of me.'

\n\n

Alan followed\nher order but his head was bowed. He knew that she would be staring at his now\nlittle wee-wee.

\n\n

'Look at me\ndirectly, darling and give me a smile.'

\n\n

He slowly\nraised his eyes and forced a weak grin.

\n\n

'That's\nbetter.' She again looked down at his wee wee. 'Put your pyjamas on and we'll\nhave a little chat.'

\n\n

Alan promptly\nobeyed. She just commanded obedience more than any teacher he'd ever met. Even\nhis father and mother never had this sort of authority.

\n\n

She sat back\ndown on the bed and clasped his hands. 'Now darling, all I insist upon is the\nabsolute truth.Is that understood?'

\n\n

The boy nodded\nearnestly.

\n\n

'What you did\nby the fire, when did you start doing it?'

\n\n

After\nChristmas,' replied Alan.

\n\n

'How often?\nMost nights? More than once?' The questions were insistent.

\n\n

'Not every\nnight, he answered, 'but sometimes four times.' He worried that this sounded a\nlot.

\n\n

'Jolly good.'\nShe smiled. How encouraging to hear that the family gun is fully loaded.'

\n\n

Alan did not\nreally understand but he smiled back.

\n\n

'I'm pleased\nthat you're being so truthful. I may not have children but I know a great deal\nabout teenage boys. Tell me, what do you call it?'

\n\n

And with that\nquestion, she slipped her hand under the duvet cover and prised open the fly of\nhis pyjamas.

\n\n

Alan was\nrather taken aback but he had promised to tell the truth. 'It's my wee-wee.'

\n\n

'Yes.' said\nhis aunt but she looked disapproving. That however is a childish word which you\nwill stop using. The proper name for it is your penis although when we are\ntogether we will call it your cock. Is that understood?'

\n\n

Alan nodded.\nHe knew that word. If Aunt Joan wanted to use the same word as the big boys,\nthat was fine by him.

\n\n

'Now what you\ndid by the fire, what do you call that?'

\n\n

Alan\nhesitated. He did not have a name for it. It was so secret. He shook his head.

\n\n

'O come along.\nThe boys at school must have called it something.' The way she looked at him\ndemanded an answer.

\n\n

He came over\nall flustered. 'I don't really know. When some of the boys talked about their\nwee-wees, sorry, I mean their cocks, they talked about wanking it but I don't\nknow what it means.' He looked worried and apprehensive.

\n\n

'Well my boy,\nnow you do . By the fire, you had a wank or to be precise, I wanked you. Either\nway, that makes you a wanker. The word is often used as a term of abuse among\nmen which is typical of their contradictions because for most of his life,\nevery man is a wanker.' It is a natural need like sneezing or coughing. There\nis another outlet but we can discuss that another time. These next few years\nwill be your main wanking years although I know that men continue doing it\nthroughout their lives. Do you understand?'

\n\n

Alan was\nthoughtful. So he was a wanker. 'I think so.'

\n\n

'You must know\nthe proper name. To wank is to masturbate from the Latin Masterbatius, a\nmasturbator. Can you remember that?'

\n\n

Alan replied,\n'Yes, he would remember that he was a masturbator.'

\n\n

'Very well.\nThe reason why I am explaining this to you is that after tonight, there will be\nno more masturbation in my home without my permission. On any occasion when you\nand I are in this house or out together, you will seek my consent before you\ntouch your hard cock. Is that understood? And do not think that you can do it\nout of sight. I have a wanker sensor which picks up any man masturbating within\none hundred yards. I put that sensor to very good use at my school with the\nmost surprising results. And another thing, I still have my school cane and\nhorse riding whip for boys of all ages who disobey my rules.' She smiled to\nreassure her nephew.

\n\n

Alan quivered.\nHe had never been caned never mind whipped but he had seen the bruises, blood\nand tears of those who had.

\n\n

'It's been a\nfull day, nephew. Lie back and sleep tight. She bent over and kissed him on the\nforehead.

\n\n

After she had\nswitched off the light and left the room, Alan lay still, his brain swimming\nwith what he had learned. She knew everything about him including what he did\nunder the sheets at night. He had done it when his father and mother were alive\nbut they had no idea. Aunt Joan seemed so much smarter than his parents or\nanyone else that he knew. Fancy knowing what boys talked about and having a\nsensor that found you out. And there was something else; when you saw her,\nespecially in the evening, she made you want to masturbate. She just did.\nLooking at her made your cock go hard.

\n\n

Alan awoke to\na lovely summer's morning. The shafts of sunlight streamed in through the gap\nin the curtains and lit up the room.

\n\n

He felt his\nfirm cock but mindful of last night's warning, he jumped out of bed and busied\nhimself with dressing. That took his mind off it and it quickly settled down.

\n\n

While his aunt\nserved breakfast, he gazed at her as she stood by the sink. She looked much\nmore like the Aunt Joan that he remembered, smartly dressed in a cream blouse\nwith pale green slacks over ordinary black shoes. With her slim figure, small\nbosom and long slender legs, she looked so different from his mother. It came\nback to him that his mother used to complain that Joan was like that because\nshe never had any children and smoked cigarettes. He wondered what caused her\nto say that. It was certainly true about the cigarettes. He regularly saw her\nsmoking long thin brown cigarettes.

\n\n

She joined him\nat the breakfast table, set in the middle of this vast immaculate kitchen.

\n\n

'Well young\nAlan, I have decided that we should go into London today. I have been entrusted\nwith your care and in my book, that means educating you in mind, soul and\nbody.'

\n\n

With this announcement, she smiled at Alan who, in no\nposition to argue, smiled back.

\n\n

'We'll start\nwith the Renaissance exhibition at the Royal Academy, have some lunch and then\nfit in a little book shopping.'

\n\n

Alan could\nonly nod in agreement. He found that with Aunt Joan, her word was law.

\n\n

'Be ready for\nthe off in fifteen minutes.'

\n\n

His aunt was\nwaiting by the door as he came down the stairs. Now she was wearing a pale\ngreen jacket which matched her slacks. Boy, did she look like a film star.

\n\n

They too her\ncar to the railway station. It was 7 series BMW, black with matching leather upholstery. Alan was mightily\nimpressed. His father used to have a Rover but by the time he died, he was\nreduced to a rusty, old Ford.

\n\n

The exhibition\nwas quite interesting with lots more nudes. After lunch, some of the bookshops\nthey visited were rather strange. One in particular, had mostly books of naked\nmen. The two men behind the counter also seemed odd. They wore jewellery and\nleather trousers. He was sure that one of them was Mr Collins, the art teacher\nat St Fort's but he kept out of sight in case he was recognised.

\n\n

For Alan, the\nbest parts were the train journeys. Getting on and off the Tube and the funny\nthings you saw on the streets of London. He was tired out by the time they\narrived home and Aunt Joan sent him for a nap before their evening meal.

\n\n

At the table,\nAunt Joan produced a bottle of wine and explained that as this had been their\nItalian day, it was an Asti, a light sparkling white wine. Learning about wine\nand drinks should be a part of his education. Alan took a gulp only to be\nreprimanded by his aunt.

\n\n

'Wine is to be\nsipped, not guzzled,' she spoke like the school mistress she used to be.\nNonetheless, Alan immediately took to the bubbly, sweet taste. After two full\nglasses, he felt relaxed and cheerful.

\n\n

After the meal\nwas finished, he was asked to do the washing up and readily agreed. His aunt\ndisappeared upstairs but from the kitchen, he knew that she was back in the\nlounge when he heard the sound of some old pop music coming from the home\nentertainment system. He finished his kitchen chores and came back into the\nlounge where Aunt Joan was standing by the fireplace, her back to the room,\ngazing at the huge nude painting above the mantel. She was swaying to the beat\nof the music, almost dancing.

\n\n

Alan sat down\non the long settee and stared at his aunt who seemed oblivious to his presence.\nHis jaw sank as he sat still, transfixed by her outfit. Her long, shiny black\nboots now came up over her knees. The short black skirt which she had worn\nbefore had been replaced by an even shorter leather one. Her upper body was\ncovered by a skin tight short black leather jacket which only just reached her\nwaist. She seemed to be wearing matching leather gloves.

\n\n

Her swaying to\nthe music caused the sharp creases in her skirt to move from side to side . Alan\nsat perfectly still and stared. Nothing moved except for his groin which sprung\ninto action. He wriggled around in his seat, crossed and uncrossed his legs but\nthe thing just grew and grew until it was rock hard. He sat back in the seat\npanting, taking in short gasps of air. His tongue was hanging out as he tried\nto push his cock back down but it proved impossible. It was insistent, bursting\nto get out of his trousers. His breathing grew heavier and heavier and then the\nmusic stopped. Aunt Joan turned around, faced him with her legs apart and her\nhands on her hips.

\n\n

''You don't\nlook well, darling. Is something wrong?'

\n\n

Alan did not\nknow what to say. But quickly he remembered that she knew everything.

\n\n

'It's my my my my cock,' stammered the boy.

\n\n

'What's wrong\nwith it?'

\n\n

'It's hard and\nit won't go down.'

\n\n

'In that case,\ntake your trousers down and let me see.'

\n\n

Alan did not\nhesitate. There was no embarrassment this time. His aunt knew all about his\ncock and his hard-ons. Within seconds, his trousers and underpants were around\nhis ankles. His aunt sashayed across and sat beside him. Her next order was to\nremove his socks and shoes and to take off his trousers completely. While Alan\ndid so, she unbuttoned his shirt and eased his arms out of it.

\n\n

He sat back in\nthe settee, stark naked but relieved that his full cock now had room to\n'breathe'.

\n\n

I think I see\nthe problem,' announced Aunt Joan. 'Are you remembering the house rules?'

\n\n

'Yes, aunt,'\nreplied the boy breathlessly, 'Please, please, may I have a wank?'

\n\n

'You'll want\nmy assistance.'

\n\n

Alan readily\nagreed. Anything to get a hand on his cock. 'O yes please. Please wank me.'

\n\n

His aunt\nsnuggled up alongside him, putting her left arm around his shoulders. The smell\nof her perfume and the leather was intoxicating. She flicked her fingers across\nhis balls and gently brushed his proud cock. Each slight contact of her leather\nglove was ecstasy. He pumped back and forth in his seat, straining to get more\ncontact. It seemed like the more he strained, the more she moved her glove\naway. By now, he was pounding up and down in the seat, getting faster and\nfaster all the time. In his frenzy, he barely noticed that his aunt's hand had\nmoved away for a moment and come back to place some sort of ring over the tip of\nhis cock. And with a great surge, it burst out. All that milky stuff. Alan\nlooked down and saw that it was flowing into some sort of rubber tube. Now his\naunt had a full grip on him and was vigorously pumping him up and down.

\n\n

He felt her\nlips at his ear, softly whispering , 'Excellent darling. Keep it coming. Give\nme lots of your come.'

\n\n

The pumping\nand flow of the milky stuff seemed endless. This was fantastic, miles better\nthan ever before. What was it about Aunt Joan? She was all powerful, all\nknowing, like one of these goddesses they had in ancient Greece. He would\nworship her, do absolutely anything she wanted.

\n\n

After it was\nover and the flow of stuff ended, she told him to go to the bathroom and clean\nhimself up. When he came back, she would have a present for him. The evening\nair was still warm and so he did not feel chilled as he walked naked to the\nbathroom, chuckling at the mirror images of naked youths which hung on the\nhallway walls. It was a house where nakedness was everywhere and made welcome.\nAmbling back through the hall, he revelled in this sense of freedom, the air in\ntouch with his whole body.

\n\n

Aunt Joan sat\ncurled up on the settee. It seemed impossible to believe that she was nearly\nfifty; she appeared so playful and girlish. \nAs he sat down, she produced a small packet, urged him to open it and\ntry it on.

\n\n

'It's a\ndressing robe,' she explained. 'I think it will suit you.'

\n\n

He shook it\nout and slipped it over his shoulders. It was nothing like the beige woollen\ndressing gown that he had at school. It hardly reached his knees and was made\nof some very soft material. There were no buttons, only a tie around the waist.\nEmbroidered on the back was a picture of some bird with huge colourful\nfeathers. There was some writing on the front, Chinese, he thought.

\n\n

'Japanese,'\nsaid Aunt Joan as if reading his mind. 'Made of the purest silk.'

\n\n

'It's very\ncomfy,' he said resuming his seat.

\n\n

His aunt had\npoured herself a drink which was placed on the table in front of them. It\nlooked like a long drink of Coca cola.

\n\n

'We can share\nit if you like,' she offered, 'but no more than a sip at a time.'

\n\n

After his\nexertions, he needed a refreshment. Picking up the glass, he took a full\nmouthful. It was Coca cola but there was a strange aftertaste. Still, there was\nsomething nice about sharing things with his aunt.

\n\n

His aunt was\ngazing at him in profile. 'I'm so pleased it looks good on you. Just let me\nsort out your collar.' As she ever so slowly adjusted his collar, her gloved\nfingers gently stroked the back of his neck. He closed his eyes as her roving\nfingers sent a tingle down his spine. Her leather skirt and jacket squeaked as\nshe moved alongside him. The fingers on his neck were now replaced by her hot\nlips while her gloved hands wandered over his body, gently squeezing his\nhairless chest.

\n\n

It was\nhappening again. This time, there were no trousers to impede the swelling of\nhis cock. As soon as it popped out through his new gown, his aunt's hands\ndescended around him and pulled the robe apart. His full frontal was totally\nexposed. Her right hand slipped underneath his balls and her forefinger rubbed\nlightly back and forward. Her left hand came round to the far side of his face\nand turned his head towards hers. She started kissing his cheek with soft\npecks, edging across his face until their lips met. He offered no resistance,\nnot having any idea what to do. After a few moments, she pushed what must be\nher tongue into his mouth, the tip seeking out the tip of his tongue.

\n\n

By now, his\ncock was back hard again. This time, there was no flicking as his cock strained\nfor contact. Her leathered hand or at least two forefingers and thumb were\nclamped around it, pulling and pushing it ever faster up and down. Their lips\nstill bonded, he swung round in his seat so that he could feel her gorgeous\nleather skirt and jacket. His tongue came to life and intertwined with hers.\nHer grasp of him tightened and now it felt as if her whole fist was furiously\npumping him. There were almost too many sensations for Alan; the sweet perfumed\nmoistness of her kiss, the erotic feel and sound of her soft leather clothes\nand her firm wanking of him which would shortly lead to another eruption.

\n\n

Wanting more\nof all of these sensations, he pulled her closer to him but she broke off their\nkiss to give him encouragement, not that he was in need of it.

\n\n

'That's\nwonderful darling. Let me feel that passion.'

\n\n

She'd slipped\nanother of these tubes over him and with perfect timing to catch another burst\nof milky stuff. With his head rested on her shoulder gulping in the waft of\nthat soft leather, he could see the power she was expending, her forearm\nswivelling up and down as if hammering in a nail and all for the purpose of\ndraining the milky stuff out of him. She was wrong about one thing; sneezing\nand coughing did not remotely compare to this.

\n\n

As his cock\nsoftened, he flopped back into the seat. His aunt stood up, smoothed down her\nruffled skirt and went through to the kitchen to dispose of the tube. On coming\nback in, she faced him, picked up the glass and stood drinking, her free hand\nresting on her hip. Hard to believe but it was stirring again and so, as a\ndistraction, he stood up and asked to go to bed.

\n\n

'Of course you\nmust, but do remember the house rules.' She missed nothing and he started to\nwonder if she had some mystical power, some way of reading his mind.

\n\n

On the following day, the fine weather broke. As the rain\nfell steadily. They passed the day quietly reading. At various points, Alan\nretired to his room to practise the guitar which his father had given him on\nhis last birthday.

\n\n

After the\nevening meal at which wine, a French Graves, had been served, Aunt Joan left\nthe room as she always did. She was more reserved in her dress this evening,\njust her long boots and waistcoat. There was no leather jacket and the black\nand white checked skirt was back in use. The toning down of her appearance did\nnothing to dampen the young boy's ardour. He tried to concentrate on the\ntelevision film but it was impossible. He wriggled in his seat, got up and\nwalked about the house aimlessly, then tried to read again but it was hopeless.\nAunt Joan was engrossed in the film but of course, noticed his discomfort.

\n\n

'Rather\nrestless tonight, aren't we?'

\n\n

'Sorry,'answered\nAlan sheepishly.

\n\n

' Can you tell\nme your problem?' asked Aunt Joan as if she did not already know.

\n\n

Alan's voice\nfaltered but the words finally came out, 'I need to masturbate, Aunt Joan.'

\n\n

'You're just\nlike your father,' she said with some exasperation, 'If you can't wait for an\nhour until this film is finished, then go and fetch a large bath towel.'

\n\n

A puzzled Alan\ndid as we was ordered.

\n\n

'Spread it out\non the carpet there,' she instructed, pointing to a space in front of her. 'Now\nremove your clothes and lie on the towel.'

\n\n

Alan did as\nbidden but nothing more was said as the film reached an exciting part of the\nstory. The sound of the action going on behind his head was meaningless as he\nlay on his back on the towel, gazing at his aunt. Meantime, her eyes looked straight\nover him, absorbed in the film. When the exciting scene finally ended, she\nlooked down and asked him to move himself and his towel a bit closer. He now\nlay within inches of her feet. All the time, his cock remained as rigid as a\nflagpole. He was ordered to close his eyes and stretch his arms outwards.\nNothing happened for a minute or so and then he felt something touching his\ncock. Something hard was forcing the skin up and down. He pushed himself\nagainst it to step up the pressure. It was not the familiar warm feeling of his\naunt's hand or glove but it had the desired effect and within minutes, the\nmilky stuff skooshed out, some landing on his bare chest, some squirting up\npast his shoulder onto the towel behind. He opened his eyes to see his aunt still\nengrossed in the film but the tip of her beautiful, long leather boot was\nfirmly wedged against his cock and pumping the last of the milky stuff as if\nshe were tapping her toe to a fast rock and roll record.

\n\n

When the last\ndrops had dribbled out and his cock had started to soften. She withdrew her\nboot and sat primly, knees together, engrossed in the film. The boy no longer\nhad to be told to clean himself. Without a word, he left the room to place the\ntowel in the laundry basket and clean himself before returning, now dressed in\nhis silk robe. They sat quietly, watching television until bedtime.

\n\n

Alan slept\nfitfully until 2am when he found himself fully awake. It was all the fault of\nhis cock. It would not settle down. He tried to avoid thinking about it but it\nseemed so restless, as if crying out for attention. Admittedly, it had had less\nexercise today than previously. His parents used to talk about the need to tire\nthe boy out before bedtime. But he dare not touch in case this activated the\nsensor. After an hour of frustration, rolling from side to side, he decided he\nwould have to tell his aunt.

\n\n

He tiptoed\nthrough to her room although there was no one else in the house to disturb. The\ndoor of her room was ajar. He poked his head around the door and whispered her\nname. She switched on her bedside lamp and blinked at Alan. Did he know the\ntime? He did and he was so sorry but he knew the house rules. His embarrassment\nreturned as he falteringly explained his need to masturbate. She sat up in bed\nand stared at the protuberance in his pyjama trousers. She looked rather small\nsitting there in the middle of her large bed, dressed as she was in her black\nsilk nightdress.

\n\n

'Very well,\ntake off your pyjamas and come into my bed.'

\n\n

She told him\nto close his eyes and try to sleep, No sooner had she switched off the lamp but\nshe got up, went to a chest of drawers and brought something back with her.

\n\n

Alan was\nordered to face away from her as she snuggled in behind him. Obviously, the\nnightdress was not very long as he could feel the warm flesh of her thighs. A\nhand slithered over him and her thumb and forefinger held the base of his cock.\nO good, she's wearing the glove, thought Alan. He stretched out his hands as\nshe pulled hard on the skin of his cock a rhythmically rocked back and forward.\nHer own body was wrapped around him, her lips lightly kissing the back of his\nneck. She rose up briefly to lean over with her other hand t o place a rubber\ntube on him. This time, she rolled it right down his cock. She was becoming active and Alan felt her\npushing against his bottom with her waist. That was nice too. After a while she\npushed her knee through his thighs, her right arm under his waist lifting him\ninto her. Alan put out his hands on to the pillow to steady himself because she\nwas almost on top of him. In the ecstasy of the wank, Alan did not really\nnotice but it sort of felt like something was going in and out of his bottom.\nHe did not mind as it felt quite good but it was strange hearing his aunt\ngiving out little high-pitched gasps. She had always been so quiet when she had\nwanked him before. After the eruption came the wave of relaxation although his\naunt riding his bottom as if he were a horse went on for a bit longer and only\nstopped when she gave out a long sigh. He skipped back to his room and slept\nsoundly.

\n\n

At the\nbreakfast table, Alan sat and watched his aunt prepare some toast. She looked\nas fantastic as ever. Her tight white jeans showed off her long legs and on her\nfeet were a pair of little black boots with high sharp heels. He wriggled in\nhis chair on account of his sore bottom before asking his aunt for some remedy.\nShe left the room momentarily and on her return, asked him to take down his\ntrousers and pants. As he stood there in the kitchen bare from the waist down,\nhis aunt knelt beside him, carrying out her examination. On her finger was a\nlump of cold cream which she proceeded to stick up his bottom. Without obvious\nreason, his cock sprung up and remained firm. Aunt Joan laughed.

\n\n

'You're as bad\nas someone else I used to know.'

\n\n

The boy was\ngrowing in confidence, 'Do you mean dad?'

\n\n

She looked\nthoughtful, 'your father was your age once, fractionally older perhaps.'

\n\n

He looked\npuzzled, 'Do you mean there was a lady who wanked dad?'

\n\n

'In a way.'

\n\n

'It can't have\nbeen you because you were his little sister.'

\n\n

'You will not\nknow this but little girls grow up more quickly. I may have been younger in\nyears but I knew a lot more than your father. The girls at my school were well\ninformed about these things. Your father was rather naive, did not know what\nwas happening but as we were always close, he told me all about the changes in\nhis body. He was shy at first but when I threatened to tell mother about it, he\ngave in very quickly. Up in the hay loft, he showed me what he did and I\nthreatened to scream if he did not let me try. Like you he became hooked on my\nattention. But that's enough, pull your trousers up and we'll go to the\nsupermarket.'

\n\n

She never\nleaves the house without looking like a star thought Alan, admiring his aunt in\nher tailored leather jacket over a cerise silk blouse and these white jeans\nwith a gold necklace and rings. He was happy to be putty in her experienced\nhands, moulded in any way she wanted. Pushing a trolley for her at the\nsupermarket would never be a chore.

\n\n

Later that\nweek, Aunt Joan received a phone call which seemed to distract her. It was the\nonly time he had not seen her looking cool and unruffled. She did not bother\nwith dinner but paced up and down in her private study. Alan was reading in the\nlounge when she came in and announced that would be going out this evening. He\nhad her permission to wank himself tonight. As she went out of the door, Alan\npeeped through the curtains as she made her way through the rain to her car,\ndressed in a long black raincoat. When she reached the door of her car, she\nstopped to adjust something in the waist band of her leather trousers. The\nlight was fading and she was twenty yards away but it looked to Alan like the\nhandle of a gun, a revolver. After she drove away, he tried to read but\nconcentration was impossible. He gazed at the fire, confused and slightly\nafraid. Why did she have a gun? Was she a spy, a female James Bond? She looked\nthe part. On the other hand, she might be a gangster going out on a job. Alan\nresolved to say nothing about what he had just seen.

\n\n

After the\nexcitement of the past couple of weeks, a wank under the sheets seemed so\nordinary but it was enough to send him to sleep. There was no sign of his aunt\nuntil lunchtime the next day when she returned and headed straight to her room.\nSome time later, she came into the lounge.

\n\n

'Be a darling\nand pour me a long vodka and coke. That's a tall glass with two inches of vodka\nand the rest is coke with ice.' She slumped into an armchair and closed her\neyes.

\n\n

Alan\ndiscovered unknown skills as a drinks waiter and fulfilled her order. Three\nmore were ordered and drunk within half an hour. She turned and fixed a look on\nAlan.

\n\n

'And how is my\ndear nephew?'

\n\n

I'm very well,\nAunt Joan,' was the hesitant reply.

\n\n

'And your\ncock? She leered at him. 'Not been overdoing the wanking in my absence, I\nhope.'

\n\n

'Just the\nonce.' answered Alan truthfully.

\n\n

'Good. So\nthere'll still be some juice in the tank.' She stood up and faced him, her\nhands on the hips of her tight leather trousers. The way she sidled over to him\nfired Alan's loins immediately. She bent over him, placed her hands on his\nshoulders and pushing him back into the seat, gave him a long kiss full on the\nlips.

\n\n

She took his\nhand and led him up to her room where he was ordered to undress. 'A little\nsomething different this time, darling' on making this announcement, she placed\na blindfold over his eyes. Next she ordered him into bed and put his hands up\nagainst the brass frame. Alan was nor sure how it had happened but somehow, his\nwrists were manacled to the frame. His\nvision removed, he heard his aunt slip through to the adjoining dressing room\nand the opening and closing of wardrobe doors. He did not know what to think of\nwhen Aunt Joan came back into the room. What plan did she have for him this\ntime?

\n\n

'Darling, I'm\ngoing to let you have a little peek to see if you like it.' she declared. Alan\nblinked as the blindfold was removed. Then he gulped on seeing her outfit. The\nblack leather boots were almost the full length of her legs; the leather skirt\nonly came down a few inches at most and the black leather jacket was barely a\njacket at all. It seemed to be cut off below her breasts to show off her\nsmooth-skinned bare midriff. Long black gloves climbed up to her elbows. She\nposed at the side of the bed, one hand on her hip before climbing in and\nstraddling the boy.

\n\n

'Keep that\npicture in your mind, nephew while we have some fun.' The blindfold was\nreplaced on the shackled boy.

\n\n

Alan felt\nnervous but his blindness heightened his sense of smell and that wonderful\ncombination of her perfume and leather usually meant nothing but a good\nfeeling.

\n\n

Now darling\nwe'll have a little foreplay and when I say the words, you start thrusting your\ncock up and down. Very slowly to begin with . Listen always to my instructions.\n

\n\n

Alan nodded\nand asked 'What are the words?'

\n\n

'The words,'\nshe repeated, 'the words are fuck me darling.'

\n\n

Alan knew that\nword. It got two strokes of the cane at St. Forts if a master heard anyone use\nit.

\n\n

She kissed him\nlong and hard, stroked his balls, then brought her boot up to his mouth so that\nhe could plant a kiss on it. What followed led Alan into a new world of\nexcitement. To start with, he could feel his rock hard cock being steered under\nher short skirt. The tip was in contact with something hot and moist. It was a\nland of mystery. He instinctively\nstarted to push but she drew back until she had rolled another of these tubes\non to his cock. This time, she rolled it all of the way down but without delay,\nit was drawn back up under her leather skirt. Her long boots pinned his thighs\ntogether as her weight descended upon him.

\n\n

'Wonderful.'\nshe whispered huskily, 'now fuck me darling, fuck me for all you're worth!'

\n\n

The boy too\nhis cue and thrust upwards. His cock felt like it was disappearing into some\nhot damp canal where the walls were so tight that he was wedged in. He pulled\nback slightly then pushed again. It felt good, more work than a wank but even\nmore exciting. With each push, he seemed to go further in until he sensed that\nhis whole cock was in there and there was room for more. The walls held him\ntightly and soon he and Aunt Joan were pushing in rhythm. Her hands were\neverywhere; caressing his balls, stroking his unseeing face, tweaking the\nlittle tits on his chest.

\n\n

Alan strained\nat the manacles but they were unyielding. He had to put everything into\nexpressing himself through his cock. His aunt remained in full control. At one\npoint, she required him to slow down and did so by squeezing his throat. He\nobeyed instantly. Then after Aunt Joan had increased the tempo, she let out a\nlong moan and her whole body shuddered. She slowed down after that but Alan\nfelt an eruption coming and speeded up again. At school, they had been taught\nabout thrust in physics. Now he felt what it meant.His cock was like a rocket\ntrying to take off but always coming back down. That is until the final thrust\nwhen he sensed that he had achieved lift-off; the thrust from his cock and\ngroin forced his aunt up into the air. Well, she was a star. She should be up\nthere with the other heavenly bodies.

\n\n

He suspended\nher up there, defying gravity for a full minute until what she called the tank\nwas drained of all the milky stuff. She sank down on top of him and he kissed\nand licked any part of her which came close to his lips.

\n\n

At breakfast\nthe next morning. Alan could not contain all of the questions spinning around\nin his mind.

\n\n

'When I go to\nmy new school, will other boys have stories about masturbating like I'll have?'

\n\n

'I would hope\nnot,' answered his aunt firmly.

\n\n

Is that\nbecause they don't have a beautiful aunt like me?'

\n\n

She smiled at\nthe compliment, finished her food preparation and than came over to sit beside\nher nephew.

\n\n

'Listen to\nwhat I have to say very carefully. We are enjoying being together but this must\nremain our secret for the rest of your life. The reason why is that if you ever\ntell a soul, even your best friend or even some day, your wife, it will somehow\nget out and be used against you by the police. It is a very serious matter\nindeed for a young man to show his cock and then to fuck an old lady. If this\never came out, you would go to prison for many years. I know this for certain.\nDo you understand?'

\n\n

Alan turned\nvery grave, 'I'd go to prison?'

\n\n

'Undoubtedly.\nThat is why it is a secret to take to the grave. I certainly will and I am sure\nthat your father did too. We look after each other in this family. Never\nexplain to anyone; a lover, a doctor, a policeman. It will always be turned\nagainst you by some one you thought you trusted.'

\n\n

The boy nodded\nsombrely. A lasting impression had been made. \n

\n\n

'To seal our\npact, come and sit on my knee and give me a big kiss!'

\n\n

Alan\nimmediately complied and as their lips came together, he realised that he had\nentered his lifetime secret world.

\n\n

\n\n
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\n\n","authorName":"Rose Lafarge","authorUserId":"42b9fea6-22bd-49bb-8fd6-51d498ef0276","rating":4.4,"ratingCount":11,"reviewCount":2,"quoteCount":0,"storyCodes":["Heavy","High School","18yo","Feet","Incest","Leather","Reluctant"],"language":"English","readTime":36,"recommendations":[{"id":"44ebefec-3d0b-4f98-9959-31424b298fcb","title":"An Increasingly Absurd Series of Wagers","slug":"an-increasingly-absurd-series-of-wagers","shortId":"zXTclpZd","synopsis":"His daughter and her friend seem to have made a series of wagers about his sexual predilections and limits. They spend the evening working hard to win and lose, those bets. The payouts grow quickly. Things escalate to an absolutely absurd degree. What a bunch of disturbingly erotic nonsense.","rating":5},{"id":"c1897c61-4bf5-4978-8fa9-14db38c6c49d","title":"The Cuntlympic Slave Games","slug":"the-cuntlympic-slave-games","shortId":"HK822qVC","synopsis":"Owned female slaves with various body modifications compete in in variety of degrading bdsm fetish events including pony slave races, lactation competitions and heavy piercing usage that resemble a fetish version of an Olympic style international games.","rating":5},{"id":"ab4f2efa-95aa-406c-a42d-5323b06c0479","title":"The Bound Knight Ch. 6","slug":"the-bound-knight-ch-6","shortId":"j0ePIJ2M","synopsis":"Moldred and Eve spend the night together.","rating":5}]}}},"actionData":null,"errors":null}