Helen

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AUNT HELEN

Helen Strangers was a fine-looking woman in her mid-thirties. A woman of independent means, she lived in some style in a large Edwardian country house set in its own grounds. Inside the house was exquisitely furnished, and she was served by a cook-cum-housekeeper, the taciturn Miss Pring, and the handyman-cum-gardener Allan.

When Darren's father got the Consul's job, Helen offered to look after her nephew. It seemed the ideal arrangement since Helen lived not far from Darren's exclusive private school and already saw the boy on a regular basis. Above all the two seemed really fond of each other. So Darren moved in. It was to prove the most formative period of his young existence.

Darren really loved his aunt. She'd always been kind to him and much more affectionate than his own parents. Parents in the diplomatic service have little time for young children. So Darren went eagerly to The Ridings. She greeted him with a kiss and a hug before taking him upstairs to show him his bedroom.

"I've put you in here" she said "so you can be close to me. The bathroom is through here" she went on opening the door. "And through that door is my bedroom. You don't mind sharing a bathroom with me do you?"

"Of course not" replied the lad.

"Good" and she gave the lad another hug. Darren almost fainted at her close proximity, the heady scent of her toilette. She kissed him, this time on the lips. "I'm sure we shall have lots of fun together."

That kiss on the lips both shocked and delighted the youngster. No one had ever kissed him on the lips before and here was his aunt doing it as though it was the most natural thing in the world. It was to be the first of many!

There were some adjustments to be made but Darren learnt quickly the rules of the house.

There was the affair of the toilet. Boy-like Darren was not too accurate and had left a few splashes on the toilet-seat. Aunt Helen took the lad upstairs to inspect the evidence of his waywardness.

"That's not very nice for me is it darling?"

"No aunt" he replied with a blush of shame

"So, when you are using my toilet, it would be better if you sat rather than stood. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes aunt" he replied, blushing an even brighter red.

And then there was the bed-time ritual. Darren's parents were usually entertaining and he seldom saw them at night. Not so Aunt Helen. Each night after his bath Darren would report in his pyjamas and dressing gown to the drawing room for a good-night kiss from his lovely aunt. If there were no guests then she would brush his hair for a full five minutes. That was after she had had his hair re-styled so the parting was down the middle. Darren had lovely hair, lovely golden-hair, and under the regime of regular brushings it soon began positively to glow. And when that ritual was over the lad would rise from his knees for a final cuddle before he went to his bed. She would hold him in her arms sometimes for minutes at a time alternately kissing and caressing the lad. The final kiss was always on the lips. Such ecstasy! Such sweetness! Such intimacy! Not a night but Darren did not leave her presence with a stiff willy!

And then there was the late-night ritual. It began the very first night of Darren's stay. Helen had finished her bath and donned her lacy nightie. Over that she put on her silk night robe, but did not bother to do up the tie; she never did. But then instead of going straight to her room she went into Darren's.

The lad lay between the fine cotton sheets, restlessly tossing and turning. She came closer. How beautiful the lad was. She bent over and kissed him gently on the fore-head. The lad woke to find a vision of loveliness bending over him. Her robe was open and he could see, see her delectable breasts through the flimsy lace of her nightie. She bent once more kissed him again this time on the lips, then rose and floated back to her own boudoir.

From that night on Darren was visited every night. And always he received the kiss. And the result was always the same whether he was awake or asleep, his young penis stiffened.

The first week-end Helen took her nephew up to Town.

"What are we going to do?" asked the lad with boyish excitement as the Rolls, driven by a uniformed Allen, threaded its way through the heavy London traffic.

"A little shopping and then a light luncheon in a splendid little French restaurant. And then there is a special treat for you, Madame Tussaud's.

"Thank you aunt! Thank you!" and he flung his arms round her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

They started off in Harrods boys department.

"Yes Madame may I help?" asked the assistant, casting an appreciative eye over the pretty lad.

"Pyjamas, silk pyjamas for my nephew. Do you have any?"

"We do. Although night-shirts are more fashionable these days. Perhaps Madame would like to see some examples of both?"

"I think so, yes."

Garment after garment was inspected and rejected. Eventually she settled on a pair of crimson red pyjamas, and two night shirts one magnolia and one white.

"And now a pair of silk shorts. Have you them in stock?"

"Yes Madame, I think so." The assistant left them.

"What are the shorts for aunt?"

"A few exercises. In the grounds. Just to tone you up!"

The assistant returned with two pairs.

"I think the young gentleman should try them on, Madame. These might be a little too tight."

Darren tried the baggier pair on first and reported back to his waiting aunt.

"Oh no. Far too floppy! Boys need support you know" she went on.

"I could not agree more Madame."

Darren retreated to the cubicle and changed into the second pair. These were much tighter, but still did not satisfy his aunt. The assistant was sent for an even smaller pair. Now they were tight, so tight in fact they showed everything much to the lad's embarrassment. It was even worse when she made him bend over and touch his toes in the shop. He felt naked. And all the while the assistant leered. Two young girls walking past giggled.

"Please aunt, they're too tight."

"Nonsense darling. They suit you to perfection." She turned to the assistant. "We'll take two pairs of those."

Whilst the garments were being wrapped and sent to the front door to await their departure, Helen took her unsuspecting nephew to the girls department.

"May I help you Madame?" enquired the pretty young assistant.

"Yes. I'm looking for a couple of pairs of panties and a pretty party-frock for a young friend."

"And her size Madame?"

"About the same as the boy I suppose."

The two women disappeared down many racks of clothes whilst Darren sat and waited for them. Aunt Helen returned after twenty minutes carrying two lovely frocks.

"I just can't make up my mind. Which do you think is the prettier darling?"

Darren stared at them both. One was white taffeta covered with embroidered flowers. The other was a delicate shade of pink with lots of pink ribbon and white lace.

"The pink one, I think" replied a blushing Darren.

"You have such exquisite taste. That is just what I thought too." And then she held the preferred garment up against him. "Yes, she will look lovely in this." Darren really did blush at this point.

After a lovely day at Madame Tussaud's they drove home through the gathering gloom.

"Aunt?"

"Yes, darling."

"Who is the party frock for?"

"Can't you guess?"

"No."

"In that case, you will have to wait and see." She placed a gloved-hand on his thigh. "Did you like your presents?"

"Yes aunt, they're lovely."

"What are you going to wear to bed to-night?"

"The red pyjamas."

"You'll look sweet in those. We'll keep the night-shirts til later shall we."

On Sundays Miss Pring the house-keeper did not come in. A breakfast tray was left for the lady of the house, and a cold collation prepared for luncheon. It was the one day of the week Helen Strangers was left to her own devices. Except that now she had her nephew.

Darren woke early and went downstairs into the kitchen to make the tea and toast. Tasks completed he carried to the tray up to his aunt's bedroom. He tapped on her door and went in; it was the first time he had penetrated the inner sanctum since that first day he came to The Ridings.

His aunt lay in a large four-poster bed, delicate drapes protecting the head from curious eyes. She woke delicately (as she did in all things) at his intrusion, and sat up. Darren stood before her in his silk robe and new pyjamas.

"Good morning darling. How lovely to see you and what a lovely surprise to have breakfast in bed. There is a bed-tray over there. Bring it over and put the tray on it."

She sat up and placed a lace shawl round her shoulders as she watched the youngster carry her breakfast across.

"Here" she said "why don't you slip under the covers and join me. I'm sure there is enough for two."

Darren blushed. Join his aunt in bed! His little willy stiffened as it had the previous night - three times.

"Come on darling" she went on, pulling back the covers. "Slip in here. But take your robe off first; you wont want that in bed, will you."

Darren disrobed and slid into the bed as quickly as he could, desperate to hide his blatant erection from his watching aunt. Of course she saw. Of course she realised but chose for the moment to ignore his boyish tribute to her charms.

She chattered on as she sipped her lemon tea and the boy consumed the toast. When both were finished, she bad him stay where he was whilst she slipped out of the bed and removed the bed-tray.

How beautiful she was in her long delicate night-dress. As Darren stared mesmerised by her beauty she turned. The light caught her night-dress and suddenly it became transparent. He could see everything, her firm breasts, her taut stomach her generous thighs, even the dark mystery of her pubes could be discerned.

She stared back at the watching boy. "Are you pleased you came to stay?"

"Oh yes" he sighed. "Very!"

"You darling" she said as she slipped once more beneath the covers. "Come here. Let me give you a kiss."

Instinctively the lad turned towards her. She slid her left arm under his head. With her right hand she pulled his face close and kissed him on the lips, long and slow. The boy melted in the sweet rich taste, his body trembled and his penis wept its adolescent tribute into his new pyjamas.

"My poor darling" she said, pulling him down onto her breasts "relax, relax" and she began to stroke his golden locks.

"Do you know what you used to do when you were a baby?"

"No."

"You used to suck on my breasts. Here." She reached up and undid the tie. She took his hand and placed it on her bosom. And then as though it were the most natural thing in the world, he leant over and placed his mouth over her exposed nipple.

"That is lovely my darling, lovely" and her right hand slid between his legs.

It was too much for him. And what young adolescent boy could contain himself in those circumstance? None! His juvenile penis lost all control and in four mind-shattering heaves released its token of devotion into the already stained pyjamas.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he sobbed.

"That's all right darling. I quite understand" and she pulled him to her and held him tight until the tears subsided and his breathing returned to normal. Sundays would never be quite the same again!

Darren was in love, in love with his aunt. In her presence he was absorbed by her. In her absence all he could think about was her, her smell, her taste, her looks, her breasts. Her Breasts! How he longed once more to place his lips to her nipples, but not once in the following week did she give the slightest indication that she would permit such intimacy ever again.

Instead she became more disciplinary in her approach. Every morning before breakfast he was sent on a half mile run round the grounds in his figure-hugging shorts. Darren did not mind for when he returned all hot and sweaty, she would be waiting to assist him in the shower. And when he had finished she would stand him on the mat and dry him off with a towel as though he were a child. Darren got an erection every time, but she never commented on it or touched him there, except to dry him of course.

She continued to demand the highest standards of behaviour as Darren discovered to his cost. Returning from school on the Tuesday he'd gone upstairs for a pee. Unfortunately for him, he'd forgotten her rule to sit when doing a wee. When she discovered his mess on the toilet seat she was not amused. The mortified boy was summoned to clean his mess, and she promised that she would "deal" with him later.

She was so nice to him that evening Darren thought she had forgotten all about it, or decided to relent. No! When having bathed he came to kiss her good night before going up to his room, she took him in both hands.

"It is time for your punishment, darling. I don't want to punish you, but I must for I insist you behave with due decorum at all times and to-day you failed me." The lad stared into her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry aunt, I really am. It wont happen again."

"It had better not! But that doesn't mean you can escape your punishment, you know that don't you. Naughty boys are spanked."

First she made him remove his robe. He stood before her in just his soft white night-shirt his golden hair glistening in the lamp-light.

"What did I tell you to do?"

"Sit every time I did a wee."

"Exactly. And what did you do? Forget and then make a nasty mess. Surely you see you must be punished for that?"

"Yes aunt. I agree. It was wrong of me."

"Come here!"

She stood him to her right, then slowly almost gently made him bend over her lap. With her left hand she pulled up the hem of his night-shirt then pressed hard into the small of his back so he could not escape. With her right hand she caressed his boyish buttocks. Then she began. Three sharp smacks to the right buttock were followed by three more to the left.

"Are you sorry now?" she asked.

"Yes aunt. I am. Really sorry."

"If you were really sorry" she went on caressing his blushing bum-cheeks, "you'd beg for more punishment. Or perhaps you don't care how I feel?"

"I do! I do!" the lad sobbed.

"So you agree you deserve more punishment?"

"Yes! I am a naughty boy and deserve to be punished."

"In that case go to my bedroom and fetch the hair-brush on my bedside table."

A couple of minutes he returned. Boy and woman stared at each other. The pain of the spanking had gone to replaced by a wonderful glow. All poor Darren could think of was his huge erection and how to keep its guilty signal hidden from his aunt.

"Remove your night-shirt!"

"Please Aunt Helen don't make me strip down here" the lad begged.

She was implacable. And so the boy had to strip in front of his aunt and expose his guilty secret. She made no comment, just made the naked lad place the night-shirt over the arm of the sofa. The instruction to bend over the sofa came almost as a relief to the deeply embarrassed boy.

She stood over him the wooden-backed hair-brush in her hand.

"I am going to give you ten spanks with the hair-brush. Is that understood. They will hurt. They have to. They are to remind you to sit like a girlie to do a wee-wee whenever you presume to use my personal bathroom. And just so you don't forget, after each spank you are to say `I promise from now on always to sit when doing a wee.' Is that clear? After each spank!"

Helen Strangers let each spank soak in before applying the next and increased the severity as she went on. How poor Darren did wriggle. The wooden- backed brush turned his pale buttocks crimson and sent shafts of pain through his body. A spanking, if it is to be effective, must be applied with energy. And it was! Crack! Crack! Crack! By the end he was in tears and his poor bottom throbbed. But he stayed where he was and took it, the first bare-bottomed spanking of his life.

Punishment completed she raised the lad and helped him back into his night- shirt. She took her scented handkerchief and wiped away his tears. Then she took him in her arms and kissed him full on the lips.

"Are you alright now darling?"

"Yes thank you aunt."

"Do you promise always to sit down in future?"

"Yes. I do! I do! And I am sorry honestly."

"Of course you are my lovely darling but you still had to be punished, as I am sure you can see now."

"Yes Aunt."

"Good. Now go to bed and let your poor little bottom recover. I will come and kiss you good night later. But never forget for if you ever do it again, I shall not only spank you again but also make you dress you in a girl's frock from the moment you return from school until you go to bed. And we both know which frock that would be, don't we. So if you don't want to be dressed as a little girl, you'd better take care from now on."

That Saturday evening Miss Pring had left and they had the house to themselves once more. The two sat watching television whilst Helen brushed Darren's hair.

"Your hair is coming on beautifully darling, but we must do something to protect your skin. When you've had your bath, come back down and I'll rub some nice lotion on your hands."

The skin had a lovely smell and felt strange but nice. He looked up from his kneeling position between her legs. She bent over and kissed him on the lips. He nearly swooned with pleasure, and his young dick nearly burst through his pyjamas.

"Have you forgiven your cruel aunt for your spanking?"

"There is nothing to forgive. I deserved it."

"Yes, you did. I must spank you even though I love you."

"Have you sat to do a wee every time since Tuesday?" He had and he said so. "Good. Does it feel strange?"

"A bit yes."

"What do you feel, a bit like a girl?"

"Yes."

"Perhaps you should have been a girl. You are certainly pretty enough to be a girl." Darren blushed.

There was a pause then Darren asked the question he'd been dying to ask all evening. "Aunt. Someone has put that girl's party frock in my wardrobe. And I was looking through my underpants drawer and found a pair of girl's knickers."

"Yes darling. I know. I told Miss Pring to put them there. Just in case."

"Just in case of what?" asked the lad, genuinely puzzled.

"Just in case I decide you need some petticoat punishment."

"What is that?"

"Let us hope for your sake you never find out!" and she kissed again on the lips and sent him to bed.

Darren tried to sleep but couldn't. At ten he rose and went to the wardrobe. He took out the frock on its hanger and held it up to his body. He looked at himself in the mirror. What a transformation. Dare he risk trying it on? No. His aunt might come in at any time to kiss him good night. With a strange reluctance he put the garment back on the rack and slid back into bed.

The following morning Darren when downstairs to get his aunt's morning-tray. Would she let him? Would it happen again? How he longed for the intimate embrace of the previous week. As he waited for the kettle to boil he looked around the spotless kitchen. Then he saw it, a pretty white apron used by the girl from the village when they had a dinner party. He tried it on over his pyjamas. Somehow it didn't feel right - and yet he wanted to wear it, wear it for Her! He dropped his pyjama bottoms and tried it on again.

That was it! He would serve Her morning tray as a maid. Perhaps then she would notice, notice how much he loved Her! He dropped his robe and took off his top. With fumbling fingers he secured the apron at his back in a full bow then replaced his robe.

The kettle boiled. He made the tea and took the toast from the toaster. Trembling with unsuppressed excitement, he went up to her room, knocked, and went in.

Helen Strangers woke to see her nephew dressed just in his robe standing over her bed with the tray. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Darren stared longingly at her breasts.

"Good morning darling. How lovely! Breakfast in bed two weeks running!"

He placed the tray on the bed then stood at the bottom of the bed watching her eat.

"I hope you've got something under your robe. I wouldn't want you to catch cold."

"I have."

"Show me."

He opened his robe to reveal the pretty lace-trimmed apron beneath.

"How charming" she said "it suits you. But what have you got on underneath your apron?"

"Nothing."

"Don't you know it is rude to come into a lady's boudoir with a bare bottie? At the very least you should be wearing knickers." And to make the point she made him drop his robe and stand in the corner whilst she finished her breakfast. How pretty he looked, how vulnerable he felt with his tight young buttocks exposed to her view.

After what seemed an age Darren heard her rise from her bed and go over to her dressing table. A drawer was opened and then closed. She was at his feet. "Here. Put these on." A garment was slipped over his feet and up his legs. He reached down and pulled them up. They were panties, white frilly panties! How he trembled!

She turned him round and kissed him on the lips. "That is better darling. Now you are properly dressed." She kissed him again. "I'd like another glass of fruit juice. Would you fetch it for me?" He would and he did.

When he returned she was back in bed, sitting up waiting for her pretty nephew. And he did look pretty! She took the proffered glass sipped at it and placed in on the bedside table.

"Would you like another cuddle?"

"Please" was his choked reply.

"Well take off your apron and get in here."

She took him in her arms. He trembled, trembled with love and lust.

"I hope you are going to control yourself this time. We don't want any accident in your pretty panties do we." She slid a hand between his legs. He was stiff, ram-rod stiff. "I think it best if you took them off don't you."

A brief flurry of legs and arms and Darren removed the panties. She took them from him and laid them on top of the duvet.

"They're pretty aren't they. Would you like to wear them again?"

"Yes. No. I don't know!"

"You poor darling" and she kissed him on the lips. "You can't wear an apron without knickers, can you?"

"I suppose not."

"So, if you wear the apron, you will have to wear the knickers too, wont you?"

"Yes aunt."

"And since you look so pretty in an apron you'll have to wear it very Sunday from now on if you want to visit me that is."

"I do and I will."

She took him in her arms and kissed him on the lips, kissed him deep forcing her tongue into his sweet mouth.

"I love you. I love you!" the lad moaned.

"Prove it!" and she sat up and with a single movement removed her nightie. Now both were naked, both dripped with lust and love.

She lay back and pulled the lad down on top of her. His stiff penis rubbed briefly against her pubic hair before she eased him up astride her body until his young cock was pressing against her stomach. She cupped a tit in one hand and pulled him down on it. He moaned, moaned with ecstasy as his lips found her erect nipple.

A sudden sharp roll and the positions were reversed. The boy was on his back staring up at her as she bestrode him. All was revealed, her lovely breasts and sweet neck, and lower down the dark mystery of her sex.

"Will you be my lover, my secret lover?"

"Yesssss" he moaned.

"I shall be cruel as well as kind, but in return you will enjoy all my secrets in time! Is that what you want?"

"Please!" he screamed. "I love you! I love you!"

"And I you my darling!" And she opened her legs wide, then lowered herself over his boyish erection.

There was nowhere for it to go but in and up. He moaned with pleasure as every pore of his body exploded in his mind. It was like nothing else. And instinctively he began to fuck, his tight young bum moving ever more as he sought nature's release. And she rode him rode him like the young buck he was, rode him for his pleasure, rode him for hers. Until the inevitable happened and Darren orgasmed inside her, shooting his juvenile tribute to his beloved aunt deep in the forbidden regions of her femininity. And as he came she kissed him, covering his sweet young body with hers, filling his mouth and mind with her own tribute to her new lover. They had fucked - for the first time. Their relationship would ever be special from now on.