I crawled out the door and, still naked, I made my way down to the laundry to get a mop and bucket. After filling the bucket with warm soapy water I returned upstairs to my bedroom to find that my Aunty had gone.
She had left me a note; it read: ‘Wear this………AND ONLY THIS!!! After you have completed your chores stand in the corner facing the wall and wait!’
The note was pinned to a white satin apron, edged with lace. Underneath the apron was a set of clean sheets.
I balked at the idea of wearing the apron but after recent events, and the possible consequences that could ensue, who was I to disobey my Auntie? I tied the little apron around my waist just below my navel; the hem of the apron rested on the top of my thighs, it was a very immodest garment.
That said; the cool satin and lace felt very sensual against my bare skin. My bottom still stung from my recent spanking and I was tempted to turn the apron around so that the smooth satin would cool my buttocks.
I went to work and mopped the floor, removing my drying semen from the floorboards. I mopped the entire room just to make sure I kept my Auntie happy. I collected Auntie’s panties, hose and suspender belt and put them on the dresser and then I stripped and remade the bed with the clean sheets. I took the soiled sheets down to the laundry. It was strange walking around the house naked except for the apron.
After I had turned on the washing machine and washed out the mop and bucket I returned to my room and stood in the corner facing the wall as per my instructions. I could hear Aunty Jean moving around downstairs; I could hear the click-clack of her high heels whenever she walked on any of the wooden or tiled floors.
It seemed like I was standing in the corner for hours but it was hard to say because I had no idea of the time. The shadows in the room became longer as time passed. Then I heard the click of Auntie’s heels on the stairs and I began to tremble in anticipation. I’m not sure if I was disappointed or relieved when she went to her own bedroom instead of mine.
After about fifteen minutes I heard her footfalls approaching and I tensed in anticipation. Her heels clicked on the boards as she entered the room.
“Come here young man!” she ordered.
I walked over with my head bowed to where she was standing next to the bed.
“Lift your head,” she ordered.
I lifted my head and Auntie’s exotic perfume filled my nostrils. She had touched up her makeup; her cheeks were freshly rouged, her black mascara, black eyeliner, and green and pink eyeshadow set off her hazel eyes; her lips glistened with a fresh application of ruby-red lipstick. Her jet-black bob had just been brushed; her hair was lustrous, the highlights glistened. Her fringe rested just above her brows and the nape rested just above her shoulders. A gold necklace glittered on her neck and matching earrings peeked through the nape of her hair.
My eyes followed her delicate neck and took in the rest of her body.
She was wearing a mauve satin blouse, decorated with ruffles, displaying her ample décolletage. The blouse was tucked into a white duchess satin classic style pencil skirt which hugged her curves perfectly ending just below the knee, showing just enough calf to show off her flesh-toned sheer seamed stockings. The skirt had decorative gathers at the front; and back-seams, which accentuated her figure. Her stockinged legs ended in white high-heeled court-shoes. On her right ankle a small gold chain glittered.
As usual she looked and smelled magnificent.
“How do I look?” she asked.
“Lovely Aunty,” I whispered my reply.
“Yes; well; after the mess you made on my church clothes this morning I had to change,” she explained sternly.
She produced a black leather dog-collar and held it out at arm’s length.
“Come here you naughty boy; I think we need to keep you on a leash until I have taught you how to behave.”
I stepped forward and allowed her to put the collar around my neck; she fastened it tightly and then she clipped a long leather leash to the ring on the collar.
“Hold out your hands and show me your fingernails,” she ordered and I complied.
“Hmm; just as I thought, they’re filthy and your fingernails are ragged; there is no way you are touching my delicates with those hands.”
She pulled on the leash and I obediently followed her out of the room and down the hall. My eyes ogled her ample bottom and long, nylon-sheathed legs.
She led me into the bathroom where she made me wash my hands repeatedly until she was happy with the results then she picked up a pair of nail-clippers and an emery board and led me back to my bedroom.
“Sit!” she commanded.
I sat on the bed and she had me hold out my hands and carefully clipped each of my fingernails and sanded them smooth.
“That’s how you are to keep your fingernails and toenails from now on. I of course have no intention of touching your disgusting feet; you can do your Ankara bayan escort toenails yourself later.”
“Now; pick up those panties, stockings and suspenders, I’m going to show you how to wash them.
I picked up the panties, stockings and suspenders that I had been using to masturbate and noticed that Aunty had added the semen stained stockings that she had been wearing when she spanked me. Silvery trails of wet semen glittered on the nylon.
Aunty Jean led me downstairs to the laundry by my leash; again my eyes were locked on her backside and legs. When we arrived in the laundry she unclipped the leash and had me put the lingerie on the sorting table.
“You will always wash my lingerie separate to any other clothing and you will separate each item and always hand-wash them in warm soapy water,” she explained.
“Here are your instructions,” she pointed to a sheet of paper she had pinned to the wall above the laundry tub.
Separate stockings from lingerie. Hand-wash each piece of lingerie separately in lukewarm water, rinse and hang up to dry.
Stockings require special treatment; follow the instructions below EXACTLY!!!
1. Perspiration is an enemy to silk and nylon so it’s important to wash my silk or nylon stockings as soon as possible after each wearing.
2. Check your fingernails before you launder stockings or a thread may snag and start a ladder.
3. Using lukewarm water make rich suds with mild soap.
4. Turn the stockings inside out and immerse them in the suds.
5. Never rub soap on the stockings. Dip them up and down in the water slowly to avoid unnecessary stretching.
6. Extract water by gently squeezing stockings from the top down. Do not slide your hands down the stockings; lightly squeeze them.
7. Rinse them several times in lukewarm water until there’s no trace of soap left. Extract water after each rinse by squeezing gently.
8. Stretch the stockings gently into shape and hang, feet down, over a smooth rod to dry, away from heat.
“Do you understand?” she asked, after I had read the instructions.
“Yes Aunty,” I replied meekly.
“Well you better young man; any items that are laddered, discoloured or misshapen will result in a severe spanking and then you will recompense me from your allowance.”
I nodded again.
“Get started and I will supervise you just this once,” she said, and stood back, arms folded.
With trembling hands I carefully separated the garments from the pile and laid them out individually on the sorting table. The first item I picked up was the pair of nearly transparent white nylon knickers that I had placed over my head.
“Hold them up,” Aunty said, and I held them up to the light.
“Those disgusting silvery stains that you see on the front panel are dribbles from your repulsive penis; the thin crust in the gusset is the result of my natural secretions.”
“You will notice that these panties have no cotton gusset so you will have to be very careful when you wash them.”
I lowered the diaphanous knickers into the lukewarm water and carefully washed them. My fresh semen stains washed away quickly but I had to spend a few minutes carefully rubbing the material of the crotch area. Aunty Jean stood close beside me and showed me how to rub the delicate nylon in order to remove the crust made by her vaginal discharge. Her ruby-red fingernails were clearly visible through the translucent nylon and the smell of her perfume was very strong.
Despite my best efforts, the proximity of her body, the smell of her perfume and the slippery feel of her soapy panties began to take effect and my penis began to swell under my apron. I pressed my lower body against the laundry tub but that didn’t help. If anything it made matters worse as the cool silk of my apron rubbed against my growing erection.
I rinsed the panties and hung them on the clothes-line in the basement laundry; painfully aware that I was tenting the front of my apron. Aunty either didn’t notice or deliberately didn’t comment.
Next I washed and hung up the suspender belt and then changed the water in the tub.
I followed the instructions down to the letter as I washed out the two pairs of stockings. Aunty Jean watched me intently and scolded me if it looked like I was going to transgress. The closeness of her body, her scent, and the feel of her flimsy stockings in my hands as I washed them would not permit my semi-erection to subside.
I was glad when I had finished and Aunty attached the leash to my collar and led me back upstairs to my bedroom where once again I was forced to stand in the corner and await her return. She returned to my room a few minutes later.
“Turn around and face me you pervert!” she ordered.
Aunty stood there, her legs spread wide, the hem of her skirt stretched taught just below her knees. She was carrying a bamboo cane, which she swished menacingly through the air as she spoke.
“I have tried to teach you some Escort bayan Ankara self-discipline but it seems you are going to take a lot of training,” she said.
“Look at the mess you have made on your apron!”
I looked down and guiltily saw the wet patch at the front of my apron where pre-seminal fluid had leaked from my penis when I had been washing my Auntie’s underwear.
“I’m sorry Aunty; it’s just that you are so beautiful, you smell wonderful, and touching your intimate clothing arouses me so much,” I whimpered.
“Well tell me something I don’t know; silly!” she replied.
“I understand that teenage boys get excited easily and I suppose I’m somewhat flattered that my mere presence can produce an erection; but you need to be trained to produce an erection only when I think it’s appropriate.” She finished.
My ears pricked up; what did she mean by: ‘when I think it’s appropriate’?
I didn’t get much time to ponder this question because Aunty proceeded.
“Bend over you naughty boy!”
I nervously bent over and awaited what I knew was coming. My bare white buttocks, still tinged a shade of pink from my previous spanking, were presented to my Aunt.
I heard the swish of the cane as it whisked through the air and then the slap of the bamboo against my bare skin. My buttocks immediately began to sting like someone had placed hot coals on them and I howled with pain. My eyes watered and tears ran down my cheeks and fell onto the floor.
“There, there, Nephew. You’ve had your punishment so stop crying and Auntie will give you a little treat,” she said.
I muffled my sobs and stood upright; my buttocks still burning with pain.
“This how it will work from now on; if you disobey me, or you cannot control your urges you will be punished; each time a little more severely. If you are a good boy you will be rewarded. Do you understand?”
I nodded my compliance.
“Now back to your corner and wait!” she said, and spun on her heels and strode out of the room, leaving me with the miasma of her perfume and the mental picture of her swaying hips, ample behind, and long stocking-sheathed, legs.
I went back to the corner filled with trepidation and anticipation. What was to be my treat? Would it be something that I liked or was she just teasing me before punishing me again.
I waited in the corner; my buttocks blazing. In contrast; the silky apron caressed my thighs and I had to concentrate to prevent another erection. I could hear my Aunt moving around in her bedroom, opening and closing drawers, and the clicks and clacks of her high-heels. After what seemed like an eternity she came back into my bedroom, pulled on my leash, and led me across the room. I kept my head bowed but I heard the springs of my mattress creak as she sat down on my bed.
“Stand here in front of me,” Aunty said, pulling on my leash.
“I have a little present for you. What I have here is a called a cocquette and you will be required to wear it at all times unless I permit otherwise.”
“This includes when you are wearing trousers either inside or outside of the house; do you understand?”
I nodded; keeping my head bowed.
“It is obvious that you are going to keep staining your apron, so the cocquette is designed to keep your revolting discharges from staining your apron or your underwear,” she explained.
“Now look here while I show you how to fit it and explain how it works.”
I looked at the article that my Aunt held in her fingers. I was a little puzzled at first; but then I realised what it was. It was a black fully-fashioned nylon stocking that had a white silk ribbon threaded through the welt; the ends of the ribbon fluttered out of the keyhole.
“You see how this works; the cocquette will fit over your penis and absorb any secretions. You will need to change it at least once a day I expect, as a filthy little boy like you will be unable to control your urges.”
“After I have fitted the cocquette to you; I will give you the matching stocking and a ribbon and you will make up a second cocquette for yourself. You may take it off only to use the bathroom and when you bathe. Do you understand boy?”
Again I nodded my compliance; but I was fascinated by the cocquette. Aunty pulled my head down and unclipped the leash.
“Lift your apron and stand still!” Auntie Jean commanded.
I stood before my Auntie, looking down as I lifted the apron to expose my loins. Looking down over the apron I could see my Auntie’s skirt stretched tight around her legs; the classic satin pencil skirt had ridden up to just above her knees and hugged the curves of her thighs. The white material of the skirt set off her flesh-toned nylons and matched her white high-heeled courts. I could just make out the reinforced toe of her nylons peeking from the top of her white leather courts.
The mauve satin blouse framed her ample décolletage and I could see the frilly edge of a black brassiere. As her perfume cloyed at my nose the same Bayan escort Ankara effect as before began to take place and my penis began to harden.
“Hmmm; I guessed this would happen but its ok this time; whenever you put on your cocquette you will need to place it over your erect penis so that it fits properly.”
I nodded as my face flushed with embarrassment and excitement.
“Ok; you slide the cocquette over your penis like so, ensuring that your scrotum is encased by the welt; and then you tighten the ribbon by pulling the ends through the keyhole and tying a nice neat bow.”
I nearly fainted with excitement as my Aunty slid the delicate stocking over my manhood and tied the ribbon firmly under my scrotum.
“See its doing its job already,” Auntie smiled as a dribble of pre-seminal fluid darkened the nylon.
“See how the cocquette soaks up your mess,” she grinned and took hold of my stocking-sheathed cock and bent it upwards for me to see.
My cock convulsed and I was so close to climax that I was breathing heavily and a sweat broke out on my brow. The feel of my Auntie’s fingers delicately caressing the shaft of my penis was exhilarating; she ran a ruby ruby-red fingernail down the length of my shaft, slowly torturing me, as waves of pleasure flickered through my penis.
“Oh God; Auntie,” I groaned.
She flicked the glans of my penis with her fingernail.
“I’ve told you not to blaspheme!” she said; but her amusement at my discomfort was evident.
“Are you uncomfortable nephew?” she giggled.
“I’m so close to coming Auntie; I don’t know if I can control it,” I implored.
“See! That’s why you have to wear the cocquette; because you can’t control yourself!” she laughed.
“I’ll tell you what nephew; if you clean up your mess immediately and wash your cocquette straight after and make up a new cocquette to wear; I’ll let you have some relief. How’s that for a nice present from your Auntie?” she grinned.
“Oh puleeese!!! Yesssssssssss!!!” I hissed; barely able to contain myself.
Aunty Jean slid her fingers around my stocking-encased cock and slowly stroked my shaft and glans. As her fingers slid over my glans it felt like butterflies were fluttering their wings on the delicate nerves of my frenulum. She stroked me like that exactly three times before my cocquette flooded with semen.
Aunty diligently milked me of my seed, dribbles of sperm escaped the toe of the stocking-sheath that covered my pulsating penis and ran down her fingers. Small white globules of my spend stuck to her fingers and coated the gold rings that she wore.
My knees almost buckled as I gasped in ecstasy as I trembled with the intensity of my orgasm.
“See; Auntie’s skirt and nylons are staying nice and clean because the cocquette is containing most of your mess.”
“Now clean my fingers boy; just as you promised you would.
As my orgasm subsided, Auntie Jean raised her fingers to my face and I tentatively licked away my semen off her fingers. It tasted musky and slightly salty; but I didn’t care; I was still enveloped in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.
“Get it all, boy,” Auntie sniggered as she forced her fingers into my mouth.
I licked and sucked on her fingers until they were spotlessly clean.
Auntie pushed me firmly away from her.
“Now; make your way down to the laundry and wash out your cocquette and your apron. When you have hung them to dry you may come back to your room and make up the other cocquette and put it on. There will also be another apron for you to wear.”
“You are then to do your homework and later you may join me in the lounge to watch the Sunday night movie.”
“Do you understand?” Auntie barked and smacked me lightly on the thigh with the cane.
“Yes Aunty Jean,” I answered obediently.
“Good!” she said and stood up, smoothed her skirt, and walked out of my bedroom.
About twenty minutes later I climbed back up the stairs, barefoot and naked except for my dog-collar, having washed my cocquette and apron. As I approached my room I heard a strange noise coming from Auntie’s bedroom. Cautiously I approached the door and peeked through the gap between the hinges of the door and the doorframe.
Auntie was sitting at her dressing table and I could see her reflection in the mirror. She had her skirt hiked up, the dark welts of her stockings framed the crotch of her red satin panties; the gusset of which she had pulled to one side as she stroked her clitoris and the lips of her labia.
Suddenly her head snapped around in the direction of the door and I quickly but silently padded down the hall to my bedroom to find the matching stocking for my cocquette, a white silk ribbon and a black satin apron with white lace edging, lying on my bed. Beside them lay the nail-clippers and the emery board.
I clipped my toenails and then smoothed them with the emery board. I diligently threaded the ribbon through the keyhole in the welt of the stocking and then went to the bathroom where I urinated and cleaned my sticky penis. I returned to my room and slid on my cocquette and tied the ribbon in neat bow under my scrotum as instructed. Then I tied my apron around my waist and tried to concentrate on doing my homework.