He never had a chance -Part 3

Read part 1>

the date

When I had told mother, who had arrived home shortly after my gentleman suitor had left, about the night's adventure it turned out that she already knew who I had left the party with. She had watched the party via a monitor with miss Lara and both ladies were quite delighted with my choice of 'uncle'. It turned out that 'uncle' Teddie had been one of the gentlemen who had beforehand expressed a special sympathy towards someone of my disposition. According to miss Lara, Sir Edward was also both seriously wealthy and generous. Not the easiest gentleman to match as he was irritatingly picky when it came to both character and style, so me clearly tickling this elderly millionaire's fancy was a bonus for our mischievous matchmaker.
 
My new 'uncle' was apparently completely serious when he had clarified his preference for a restrained attitude towards our romantic endeavour. He actually had written a sort of guide containing the do's and don'ts and the romantic goals and implications of such a situation. Of course being a vain rich person, he had his musings printed and made into a small booklet for his lady-friends and a handfull interested acquaintances.
Guidelines and etiquette for Courting, Flirting and advanced Coquetry. by Edward Bathurst-Smith
It wasn't very complicated as they were almost the same rules our great-grandparents generation lived by, only with the difference that they weren't forced on the participants from an outside force or by a puritan society. Forced nor ignorant or truly innocent. The goal was completely different too as in 'uncle' Teddies philosophy these rules were there to heighten the erotic tensions and desires instead of subduing or condemning them. Oldfashioned romancing and courting for slightly pervy reasons. A beautiful little costume-drama as it were. When mother got to read it, she immediately fell in love with the idea as it seemed to open the way to all kinds of delightful new experiences. Obviously she was especially charmed with the gentleman's idea's and choices regarding dressing rules and the necessity of perfect deportment and sublimated ladylike mannerisms. Even mother's viewpoint that said ladies should be a bit conceited and over-dramatic seemed well in line with uncle Teddies opinions. I think these things fall under the heading 'advanced coquetry'.

Two days after the party 'he' finally called.... and invited me to visit him at his apartment in town that very night. He'd actually be sending a limo to pick me up. Mother, backed by the gentleman's views on dressing, had of course already been making plans regarding my appearance on my 'date'. She clearly had been prepared for this or she had some sort of contingency plan as when I went up to my room there was a large box with the name of the town's most exclusive evening-wear boutique on my bed and when I opened it there was the most gorgeous taffeta cocktail ensemble you can imagine. It was in gold silk taffeta and it was a bit more formal but definitely just as alluring and titillating as the lovely outfit I had worn to the party. It was a very tight fitting tailored confection of dress, again with a pencil skirt that was so delightfully narrow that it would be almost impossible to move about in if you hadn't been relentlessly trained by a demanding and determined mother like mine. I had already found out that an added benefit of wearing such type of garment is the extremely sensual experience of ones silky smooth nylon-encased legs being deliciously caressed by the silk lining of the calflength skirt at even the slightest movement, resulting in keeping the wearer in an enduring state of sexual arousal. And then there are the intoxicating sounds, the quite noisy rustling of taffeta, the swishy sound of silks on my delicate nylons and of course the clicking of ones stiletto heels on a hard floor. So many breathtaking impressions.... A complete overload for the senses.

when I went downstairs almost
an hour later, mother had a big
victorious smile on her face and
was actually applauding

After what felt like an eternity I finally woke up from my daydreams and I decided it was about time to get myself ready. I bathed, got rid of any possible rests of unseemly facial hair, threw on my pink satin robe, stepped into my fluffy bedroom mules and sat down at my vanity to do my make-up and hair.... I had been doing my own make-up on a daily basis the past weeks and I had seriously paid attention when miss Shana did my make-up for the party so I was fairly certain I could do a good job. I just had to, I wanted my 'uncle' to really want me.... and I was determined to make it very hard for him 'not to'.
I clearly did well as when I went downstairs almost an hour later, mother had a big victorious smile on her face and was actually applauding. "I see you are going to make it hard for your 'pretend-prude' suitor to keep to his little rules....",she said as I indeed looked completely scrumptious. The make-up being a little more dramatic than last time just as the dress was both quite severe in style and still so exquisitely sexual in nature.
I probably still had about an hour until the limo would be there and however confident I felt, it was just about long enough to work up a healthy dose of anxiety over how this little adventure would play out. In short, I felt like any girl/lady felt before a romantic rendez-vous with a potential boyfriend.... Mother had of course offered me a glass of champagne to calm me down but by the time a chauffeur in uniform was at the door to escort me to the Bentley, I was still a bit nervous though the appreciative looks of the servile grey-haired driver were quite a boost for my ego. Another thing I discovered was the fact that I kinda liked the way he called me miss or mademoiselle in that almost subservient over-polite tone and how he basically acted as a servant. I could see myself getting used to haughtily ordering 'staff' around and getting sucked up to. Could mother's kinky dominant disposition be hereditary after all or was it just rubbing off on me? As it isn't a very large town we soon arrived at this chique 1950's apartment-building where my grovelling chauffeur escorted me all the way up to the door of uncle's not so humble abode on the 5th floor, there to be welcomed by the gentleman himself. My new uncle was looking very impressive in his classy vintage smoking and bow-tie so I shouldn't have worried about being slightly over-dressed. After dismissing my chauffeur and greeting me by reverently kissing my hand he guided me into the richly decorated lounge area of the apartment. There were paintings, large mirrors in gilded frames and period furniture, it looked like a virtual palace. While I was taking all of it in uncle Teddie led me to a small bar at the opposite side of the room where he proceeded to open a bottle of very expensive champagne. Soon we both had a glass in our hands and after exchanging compliments on the way we both looked, I timidly asked him about the obvious erotic nature of the paintings. That clearly struck a chord as uncle enthusiastically elaborated on his hobby of collecting erotic art and offered to give me a guided tour. Of course I accepted and clung to his arm as he showed me around the paintings sharing his expert knowledge. At the same time my conceited little mind was of course mainly busy with how I could steer the situation towards me ending up in his manly arms. That meant me going all out giggly girly, fluttering my eyelashes and appreciatively cooing at especially risque depictions and 'accidentally' making physical contact with my elderly Don Juan. Meanwhile my beau had kept my glass filled which was a perfect reason for me pretending to be a bit tipsy and needing to sit down for a moment.... I don't know if it was the erotic images or my flirty moves but my favourite uncle seemed to be quite a bit more responsive than he was on our initial hook-up and when he gently steered me towards the large luxurious couch he supported me by possessively slipping his surprisingly strong arm around my silken waist and he kept holding me close like that when we sat down. I loved it. I was so close to him that I could feel the warmth of his leg, even through the material of my dress. Just his physical proximity and the firm but tender way he was still holding me sent shivers of anticipation down my spine and when I felt his other hand settle on my knee, expertly fondling my nyloned leg through the silky material of my dress, it caused my tightly tucked back winky to desperately fight it's silken prison.
It was almost like the sexual energy, frustrated by my inability to have an erection, had found an outlet in turning the rest of my body into one big erogenous zone.  Every little touch or caress of the elderly man sent delicious electric currents down my spine. And it wasn't just sexual as these erotic sensations were accompanied by strong feelings of genuine affection and gratitude for how sexy and feminine this darling elderly gentleman was making me feel. Instinctively my hand had moved up over his chest to rest on his shoulder so I could draw myself closer and when I timidly looked up at his friendly face, once again fluttering my eyelashes, my suitor had obviously read my mind and proceeded to passionately french kiss me. His remarkably thick muscular tongue invaded my inviting mouth so furiously that he was almost suffocating me but I loved every minute of it as my silk encased body instinctively slithered as enticingly as possible against his manly frame to signal my utter willingness and approval.
I wonder what one of these erotic artists would have made of the scene? The  heavy set and far too old gentleman in his sophisticated smoking and the beautiful too young pretend girl in his exquisitely glamorous dress who was almost wantonly making out with his unbefitting 'uncle'. Said imaginary onlooker would probably also have noticed an impressive protrusion in the senior gentleman's trousers.
Up to that moment I hadn't yet noticed that as my mind had been elsewhere occupied but as my hands seemed to have a mind of their own tonight it didn't take long for my hand to accidentally land itself in my suitors lap, there to be confronted with his obviously excited manhood. To realize that it was I who awoke these feelings in this experienced adult male made me feel even hornier than I already was and I just couldn't resist gently stroking It through the soft fabric of his pants. As fully expected and intended my darling 'uncle' intensified his romantic avances  by drawing me even closer whilst his other hand had taken up expertly fondling my silk encased bum. Again shivers of delight went through me and when we had finally interrupted our delicious mouth-contact my elderly beau muttered something like "My darling, you don't know what you are doing to me". He was wrong there for even when it's just a junior version of his quite substantial manhood, I do still know what it's like to have a penis and I had plenty experience in handling it. I knew very well what I was doing to him. I guess that's one of the points where pretend girls like me have an advantage over natal girls. We have an insight when it comes to judging male reactions to our dalliance and coquetry. I know the effect the girl in the mirror I fell in love with had on me and the effect she'll probably have on other initially heterosexually motivated males. Instead I kept to my role as a naughty and utterly wanton debutante and timidly mumbled an admiring "But sir, it's so big and manly, I couldn't resist, I just have to touch it....". "Miss Lara was right, you are absolutely perfect", he sighed before once again frenching me even more ravenous than before. I almost felt like I was being devoured... And I wanted to be devoured. Yes please.... Obviously I hadn't stopped lovingly stroking uncle's,now rigidly hard, manhood. It wasn't that it was much bigger than the big-girl's toy I had been practicing with but the fact that it was warm, alive and hard for me definitely gave it something extra.... In return my beau was still fondling my bum while his other hand was now manipulating the small pushed up mounts of baby-fat that formed my almost non existent titties through the delicious silk material of the dress . Much to my own surprise my nipples had gone extremely sensitive now and were very much enjoying his sensual ministrations. By then my body was experiencing what felt like a soaring prolonged state of orgasm. And instead of actually being able to ejaculate, I felt my tortured weeny starting to ooze small amounts of fluids into it's silken prison.... If I hadn't been so distracted I would undoubtedly have noticed that my stroking had also made my elderly suitor have a little 'accident'. His tongue was still invading me when I felt a spasm going through him, making me realise what I had done. I just caused a very experienced elderly gentleman to spontaneously ejaculate. Although I myself was still in a very sexually wanton state of mind and would have preferred him to have done that inside my boy-pussy, I felt immensely proud of doing that.... Afterwards this demi-god of a man profusely apologized for his 'accident' before retreating to his private rooms to clean himself up. After our ravenous encounter I realized that my carefully created appearance  obviously must have gotten a bit messed up too so I took advantage of his momentary absence to repair my make up, arrange my hair and readjust the dress. I just had to look perfect for HIS return. And when HE had quietly re-entered the room whilst I was still primping and preening in front of one of the mirrors in the room, I had only noticed him when he appeared behind me taking hold of my waist and nuzzling my neck. Turning round looking at his friendly smiling face there was nothing I could do but lovingly kissing him on the lips, this time more with the intention of showing affection than out of raw passion. Still with a huge smile on his face my beloved uncle guided me back to the couch where he drew me on his lap, assuring me that it was safe now as at his age a repeat of his  earlier accident would be unlikely. It was however still a wonderful feeling sitting there with my arms around his neck exchanging sweet kisses and whispering words of adoration. As my ride home was to arrive soon, my darling assured me we would get more than enough opportunity to get more intimate at the surprise party miss Lara was putting on at the very chique Apollon Hotel the coming weekend. The party was to be centered around those ladies and uncles that had successfully hooked up at the first party and the coupling of me and uncle Teddie would undoubtedly be one of the successtories of the whole thing.... Supposedly mother was very much involved in Lara's plans and according to uncle the devious ladies had clearly something special in mind......something devious.
A little later uncle's subservient chauffeur had arrived to bring me home. When we said our goodbyes uncle once again turned into the lecherous elderly casanova I got so turned on by, almost aggressively pushing me against the doorpost whilst passionately kissing me and letting his hands wander all over me. It was simply delightful seeing the timid and now very uncomfortable servant trying to look away from our little display of obviously completely inappropriate lust and intimacy, which was undoubtedly what my so deliciously depraved uncle had counted on. It could just be my imagination but I think the sad little man actually blushed. I myself just couldn't help myself from adding to his embarrassment by uttering sentences like :"Oh please sir, I just can't wait to feel your hard throbbing manhood inside me." On purpose calling him 'sir' to emphasize the wrongness of the situation at hand. Mother's  taste for conceitedness was clearly once again showing up in her pretend-daughter. Needless to say that  I kept the little man on his toes by playing the role of the haughty overtly sexual junior-diva all through our ride home. I'm convinced that he was not only totally unnerved by the awfully pretty lolita girlfriend of his employer wiggling her bum and coquettishly fluttering her eyelashes but I'm sure he'd be having inappropriate fantasies as well. I sniggered inside, I really started to enjoy the teasing and coquetry side of my new role.
 Once I had arrived home mother had of course insisted on a detailed summary of the evening's happenings and my subsequent feelings and thoughts. Even if I did so without going in too much detail mommy dearest was delighted. Especially telling her about discovering my newfound depravity brought a delighted expression to her face. I think she was actually purring....
When I asked her bout the party she did tell me there had been a slight change of plan as the other couples who connected turned out to be not quite ready to publicly commit quite yet so, with the venue already booked, mother and her fellow conspirator were thinking up an alternative theme that would still feature me and my darling uncle Teddie. I was however still kept in the dark over what the new plans would entail....


So as expected my devious mother had over the past few days kept up teasing me mercilessly with my budding but deliciously inappropriate romance. She had made me express how I, clearly completely impervious to the fact that the man was severely overweight, not particularly handsome and in his seventies, was falling desperately in love with my lecherous elderly boyfriend over and over and over again until it was almost a permanent loop ringing through my already so deliciously confused brain. As if I hadn't fallen in love already of my own accord, mother clearly wanted to take it to an even more urgent and desperate level. It seemed somehow important and attractive to have my emotional state so very ladylike that I should be hovering on the edge of hysteria almost permanently. The type of lady I must become, according to both mother and my mysterious inner voice, was to be completely over-sensitive and delicate to the point of being far too delicate to independently function in the real world. In the end I should be very much like miss Denise in 'Miss High-heels' who, for instance in the chapter with the glass boxes, has a complete fit when first fleas and finally a big fat worm are let loose on her delicate beautifully gloved hands. Contrary to miss Denise I would of course at the same time be deliciously wanton and hypersexual too. I know now this course was 100% necessary and in the end inevitable. And I absolutely wanted this just because it was so delightfully twisted and therefore so completely right. It's just so terribly exciting to destroy everything that was left of what once was Donnie, thereby burning all my bridges....
Yes, I absolutely must become this deliciously helpless and vulnerable lady-thing, an adorable damsell that could find herself in distress at any moment. Especially when masculine much older men are involved....
 
After bedtime I was of course still obediently keeping up the delightful task of relentlessly masturbating with my lifesize adult toy stretching my boypussy whilst softly moaning and vocalizing how much I wanted my elderly 'fiancee' to deflower me....
 

another pretty nail in poor Donnie's coffin

Finally mother's preparatory instructions and teasing culminated into the moment when my actual outfit for the party was delivered and I realized what mother's surprise for me entailed. I should have seen this coming.... I was to be fully dressed as a beautiful bride in a exquisite satin bridal gown, complete with the matching veil, white satin highheeled pumps, the appropriate bridal lingerie/foundations and all the other accessories a glamorous society bride needs.
And then later that day, whilst leading me towards the full length mirror that forced me to me take in the inescapable reality of this, my ultimate surrender, mother continued in her sweetest insincere voice: "It's what every little lady dreams of, isn't it Donna Marie darling? It is what you have secretly been dreaming about too, haven't you, young lady? To wear this beautiful glamorous wedding gown that makes you feel and look so totally and utterly feminine and sexy for your new uncle? A beautiful bride really is the ultimate feminine archetype.
 
Just think about it. Now here is you, a perfect vision of lovelyness dressed in what is like cloud of white satin and silks, nervously standing next to your rich elderly uncle before timidly reciting your solemn vows to be his perfect society girlfriend and him pledging to worship you as the princess you truly are? And all the other uncles and sugarbabes from the first party will be there to witness your big moment. It will be Lara's party of the year. You, the gorgeous but still bashful pretend-bride nervously fluttering  your eyelashes at him adoringly whilst looking absolutely ravishing in your beautiful vintage satin gown. At that point you will probably be bowled over by your own feelings of love, lust and affection for this man but at the same time you will outwardly still 'act'  appropriately shy and demure as your peers see you and your much too old 'uncle' passionately make out to show everybody present your almost desperate love and devotion for what to the other young ladies must be a rather unattractive overweight gentleman who is old enough to be your grandfather. Meanwhile, to your 'uncle', you were of course already the most beautiful young miss in the world before but now your beau is of course throbbing hard for the complete dream-vision of virginal beauty that his adorable young bride so obviously projects. All he wants to do now is to finally take his gorgeous princess-bride up to the bridal suite to appropriately ravage her", she stated with total delight. By then the intoxicating sensual sensations that come with wearing the gown combined with my own image in the mirror and mother's little motivational lecture made me spontaneously ejaculate  in my pretty bridal knickers there and then. I actually went weak at the knees, teetering in my heels and needed mother's support.... In the end the part where the bride(me) was about to be ravaged by her wonderfull 'uncle' was the final straw....  
Recollecting this week's  earlier rendezvous I'm sure I'll be deliriously happy and eager to be ravaged completely senseless by my darling elderly Romeo.

In the end it all happened almost exactly as mother had envisaged except from my elderly groom actually sliding a real wedding ring with an unreasonably large diamond on my finger. It was an impressive do with everybody dressed very elegantly as wedding guests. The ladies even had hired a professional actor to play the part of the priest. Later, when we had taken our leave to consummate our mock wedding, my darling elderly groom had actually carried me over the threshold of the bridal suite. Without going into detail about what followed I will only say that the magical feeling of having almost 8 inch of warm throbbing cock actually inside my body changed everything and when my man finally collapsed on top of me, his beautiful manhood filling my bowels with his warm semen, I actually cried. Happy tears....

 

You, the gorgeous but still bashful pretend-bride nervously
fluttering  your eyelashes at him adoringly whilst looking
absolutely ravishing in your beautiful vintage satin gown.

He never had a chance -Part 2

Read part 1>
 

advanced training

Clearly mother's machinations towards establishing my desired romantic feelings towards these gentlemen did not mean that my other lessons regarding my feminine education were suspended. My days were thus still filled with being instructed on how to sit, to stand up and walk elegantly whilst giving the impression of effortlessly managing either impossibly narrow pencil skirts or voluminous ball gowns with a cloud of luscious frothy petticoats. And only when mother was in a particularly benign mood was I allowed to wear my now almost comfortable 4 inch heels but in general my Louboutin pumps with the 5 inch heels were the rule for my exercises. I was taught how exactly to carry my handbag, how to move and hold my arms and almost suggestively sway my hips and wiggle my behind. Apparently a large part of being a 'lady' is pure acting. The supposed natural elegance of women that seems so effortless is in reality quite hard work. The fact that it looks effortless does in no way mean that it actually has to be so.  For instance walking in heels is never a skill one is born with, it takes training. Hours of it. And there is more as one moment one may have to elegantly and effortlessly cross a room whilst the next moment the situation may ask for you to act as if you are teetering insecurely in your heels so the gentleman you are with can support his overtly feminine and delicate companion by offering her his arm or even holding her. Even fluttering ones eyelashes is a learned skill and don't even start me on just functioning like a normal human being with those inch long salon nails...Giving the impression of being born with such skills was everything. My tutoress was absolutely relentless. Additionally mother had roped in an old friend of hers who in a previous life had been a voice coach and speech therapist to Hollywood movie stars to teach me how to convincingly speak like a young lady. It hadn't just been about raising my pitch, it was mainly the general manner of expressing myself including the type of words women tend to use. The pitch of my voice, according to my teacher, was not of that much importance as plenty very attractive and elegant moviestars did very well with husky alto voices. The main thing was to learn to speak in a gentler softer voice and learn to form the words in the front of ones mouth instead of in the back of the throat so not to produce that typical male resonance in ones speech. Easier said than done of course but eventually after weeks of practice and relentless training I had supposedly improved so much my coach thought it would soon be time to put my new skills to the test and what better way to do that was there than letting me actually talk to the gentlemen I had up to then only exchanged written messages with on the phone. Mother liked the idea but she didn't want these strangers to become more than practice material (she clearly wanted and planned a far less random choice of gentleman for my first date once the time was there) so she got me a safe phone with a secret number so not to give away too much private information. Obviously both my tutor and mother would be closely monitoring my conversations. I would get instructions on ....everything basically. I was told what to talk about and what my attitudes should be. I was to play the still slightly apprehensive innocent virgin who was still overwhelmed by these 'new' romantic feelings I was experiencing, almost forcing the gentleman into the role of the gentle understanding uncle. At the same time I was still expected to innocently keep steering the conversation towards me having these romantic/erotic feelings and desires concerning mature gentlemen like him. Romance-talk was clearly the goal as long as I steered clear of actually mentioning sexual acts and I wasn't to arrange an actual meet. Timidly suggesting such may well be possible in the future was as far as it was allowed to go... Being more than a little deceitful was clearly not only allowed, it was an intrinsic part of a lady's armour, according both of the ladies.  It was almost a complete script and I was even provided with a list of words I should try to weave into the conversation. Words like 'delightful', 'adorable','divine', 'enchanting', 'dreamy' and 'darling'. Words and expressions that no heterosexual man or boy would ever use.


Sugar babe

The idea to let our 'princess' have romantic conversations with his/her online admirers had been a great success as my young protégée performed well beyond my expectations. I'm now fairly sure sweet innocent Donna Marie is actually enjoying the game of winding these older gentlemen around her finger, getting them erotically turned on and then, feigning to be bashful and having jitters, gently let them down. My darling crossdressing pupil started to really get the nature of the game so it hadn't only worked as a speech exercise but had also established my darling son as being well on the way to become the conceited little seductress I wanted him to become right from the start. I'm certain Donna Marie is going to shine at the 'Sugarbabe Party' of 'The Diamond Hearts Matchmaking Agency', he/she would be made to attend next weekend. Apart from a selection of classy young ladies said event would be attended by a number of wealthy elderly gentlemen who had paid handsomely to get invited to Lara Luv's exclusive party. Naturally, being a friend of sorts, Lara knew about Donna's true gender but I had, as Lady Fenton advised me, told her how I was just lovingly supporting my troubled transgendered son. I'm not sure if she really believed me (Lara was at least as mischievous as I am) but it at least gave my story the outward impression of respectability. Being discerning as ever, Lara had personally checked how the gentlemen attending the party would react to Donna's little secret and found that only few of these friendly elderly uncles had any reservations towards dating 'ladies with such a minor flaw'. A few of said gentlemen had(especially after they were shown Donna's picture) admitted they would in fact be especially delighted to meet someone who had so consciously and deliberately chosen to become such a deliciously ultra-feminine young lady.


Cinders goes to the ball

To be honest, long before mother's intervention there had always been this strangely authoritative inner voice in the back of my mind that for some reason kept urging me on to take the whole crossdressing game as far as I possibly can. In a lot of ways mother acted very much in unison with 'my inner evil stepmother' who also seemed to find an almost sadistic pleasure in destroying all that is left of the boy in me.
And more and more often there already had been thoughts mixed in about being lusted after by and being forced to make out passionately with especially masculine much older men. I'm not sure where my imaginary stepmother picked up that idea but for some reason the thought excited me to no end.
The whole idea of being seen and lusted after as a pretty girl in itself seemed to completely amplify all the sensations this already disturbing game offered.
The difference between an imaginary wicked stepmother and my actual mother was of course that mother's plans were taking all this out of my relatively safe fantasy world and into my actual day to day existence..... Which was all still rather scary even when it was what I had been dreaming of for years....
And now I was to go to this exclusive party where I was expected to meet suitable elderly gentlemen who'd in turn be there to find a beautiful pretend-niece to court and spoil. Of course I was terribly excited at the prospect but also nervous just like any youngster would be for his/her first grown-ups party. Mother was hovering over me all the rest of the week with extra instructions on my behaviour, voicing how much fun I was going have and what a lucky lady I was. On the day of the party mother's personal beautician had come by to do my make-up and hair and I was fitted with a brand new set of gorgeous salon nails. Tonight's outfit was the same ensemble she had me wear on that memorable first day of my new life though mother did add a pair of glamorous diamond earrings to make it complete and when it was finally time to go I both looked and felt like a total Hollywood glamour puss. My delighted mother assured me that now I was almost certain to befriend a well-to-do older gentleman, I should get used to wearing diamonds.
Mother dropped me off at the party location but she had, conceited and controlling as she was, joined Lara Luv to oversee the happenings from a distance via camera. To me, the whole event had been a total revelation from the moment I had made my entrance to the place.... When I entered the luxurious venue in the style of a high-end nineteenfifties nightclub, it was already filled with party guests holding champagne glasses. The girls all wore pretty party dresses though most slightly more frivolous than my own rather formal and grown-up ensemble. The men were all dressed in suit and tie and somewhere in the age of 45 and over. As soon as an attentive waiter had handed me my own glass of champagne and I proceeded on my way to explore the room, I almost immediately became conscious of the inspecting looks of my fellow party guests. Coming from the ladies it was a mix of envy and silent admiration but the looks that came from a number of the gentlemen coulddefinitely be described as filled with lust. I loved it.... When I sorta found my bearings and saw that nobody here had met any of the others before tonight, getting into casual chats with people was much easier than expected and before long I had found myself actually amidst several obviously very interested older gentlemen of the type that mother had in mind for me. The compliments and expressions of admiration were making me blush and to be frank, in combination with the mere presence of these sweet elderly uncles, they were getting me very very excited. Even though he seemed one of the quiet types, one gentleman in particular had my attention. The gentleman in question introduced himself to me as Sir Edward Bathurst-Smith but I could call him uncle Teddie. He was a heavy-set, not particularly handsome gentleman in his early seventies but what he missed in looks was generously compensated by his charm and sympathetic demeanor. For some reason he made me feel so wanted and beautiful and the reality of feeling both completely comfortable in his presence and being so obviously desired, yes, even worshipped by this experienced older gentleman, had been more than I could resist.
I must disappoint the people who think we were about jump each other there and then because all these feelings were very much just slumbering beneath the surface. Of course I was fluttering my eyelashes and I let loose all my recently learned coquettish moves on him but in the end I was already feeling like an absolute princess when he asked if he could drive me home and I proudly clung to his arm when he escorted me to his Jaguar. My admirer stayed a gentleman all the time just because he was exactly that. Even when we arrived at our house without him even laying a hand on me and I myself asked him if he didn't want to kiss me, he was adament in assuring me that I was under no obligation to do so and that he was satisfied with just enjoying the company of a beautiful young lady like me. By then I was so horny that I wanted him to ravage me and his correctness only made it worse so when he escorted me to the door for our final goodbyes I took a step closer, stood on tippytoes, laid my hands on the shoulders of his conservative bespoke suit and then told him: "Now kiss me, you silly gorgeous man!".

"My dear sweet girl....you have made an old man very very happy tonight...."

Not giving him the time to argue I then kissed him straight on the mouth. Even though I think I actually saw him blush, he then finally got the message and I felt his thick muscular tongue enter my mouth....Timidly at first but soon enough eager and passionate... And when I felt him drawing me closer as his hands gently held my slender silken waist I was in heaven.... Our delicious mouth contact must have lasted minutes but it felt like an eternity and when we finally came up for air my beau once again blushed and almost coyly mumbled: "My dear sweet girl....you have made an old man very very happy tonight....", and then continued with: "It's not that I'm a complete prude but I kinda take the stand that less is often more in these matters. I bet that half the young ladies you have met tonight are probably on their knees now with a strange man's penis in their mouth. Personally I'm disgusted and I bet neither partner is experiencing even half the passion and joy I did tonight. Don't get me wrong, I really like the game of the wealthy uncle having a slightly unhealthy relationship with his spoiled ladylike young niece but not when the uncle factually becomes the client and the niece is just a pretty young prostitute. A bit of moderation and reticence just seems to make things more interesting and the whole 'all out sex' attitude kinda devaluates the more subtle sides of sensuality the game offers. Think of how gentlemen in the nineteenhundreds got excited at spotting a stockinged lady's ankle and how ladies fainted at even the slightest suggestion of naughty ongoings. No, I'm definitely not a prude, I just like to think I get more excitement from the more subtle forms of the erotic and being a bit reserved is an essential part of the game...". With that he kissed me one more time and actually took his leave, promising we would meet again soon. I was still kinda flustered and only managed to whisper a "Call me" in his ear. This wonderful strange man really got in my head and he was probably right as I now wanted to be near him more than ever and when the next day a hundred yellow roses were delivered with the message 'For a true Lady from her loving uncle Teddie', I knew I was in love.

TO BE CONTINUED


  

Don't get me wrong, I really like the game of the wealthy uncle having
a slightly unhealthy relationship with his spoiled ladylike young niece

He never had a chance Part 1

  He never had a chance
( made into the perfect 'little Lady')

 mrs. Zabor

Businesswoman, fashionista and respected member of the local high society, mrs. Zabor had been out of town for a few days, leaving her teenage son alone at the house as he wasn't the sort of kid that would throw wild parties in her absence. This time she had returned a day earlier than expected and when she entered the house and there was a noise coming from her bedroom, she rushed up there to find her beloved son dressed up to the nines in one of her best cocktail dresses. He was wearing make up, a pretty wig and high heels too. She was actually too stunned to react and fled the room before either of them realized what had just happened. In fact the incident wasn't even mentioned again by either of them until weeks later and apart from a few uneasy looks, life seemed to go on as if nothing had happened. And obviously young Donnie himself had no real desire to bring it up and voluntary discuss his embarrassing little secret with his rather formidable mother either. Though mrs. Zabor wasn't much of a prude at all and hadn't really been moraly offended by said discovery, at the time she just had had no idea how to deal with the situation. That is, until mrs. Zabor accidentally met up with the strange Lady Fenton and the subject  came up. And when the mischievous but absolutely delightful Lady Fenton confessed how she had turned a rather similar situation concerning her own stepson into a deliciously amusing opportunity, she had been totally fascinated and wanted to know more. The lady then revealed how she had discovered a strange twisted pleasure in forcing/enticing these susceptible young men into an ultra-feminine lifestyle not of their own choice. In short, Lady Fenton had shown her a completely new way to look at the case and new daring ideas and plans were already starting to form in mrs. Zabor's head. This could actually be fun and come to think of it, with his slender physique and gentle features 'Donnie' would actually make a rather fetching young miss. Maybe not quite a pageant princess yet but he definitely made a quite convincing and even attractive young lady already. And on top of that his over civilized timid nature(read: 'a bit boring') would probably make him rather susceptible to conditioning and motherly authority in general. Especially as he had already shown to have the initial, compulsive penchant for crossdressing present. Thinking of what Lady Fenton had told her about her delightful adventures with her own crossdressing stepson, an involuntary shiver went down her spine at the thought of what she could make her preppie son do and become..... It wasn't that she hated her son or that he had to be punished for his improper behaviour (though I may of course use that as an excuse for crushing eventual future rebellions), it had in fact been more about a bored mother with a deviant mind embracing the slumbering dominant tendencies that had been reawakened by lady Fenton's confessions.. She had always had a mild sadistic streak and certain forms of domination and sexual cruelty had always turned her on but for some reason this specific scenario was actually getting this mischievous mommy especially moist in her pretty knickers.....


 

(Where Mommy is laying down the law):

"My sweet boy, in the light of certain recent events and developments your wise and understanding mother has decided that there are going to be a few changes around here.... Main thing is that I am personally going to see to it that you will stop living a lie. This way you would forever be dressing up in secret without any goal or direction. It will only ever be a rather disgusting dirty secret. No son of mine is going to be a backroom pervert. But as I'm a reasonable person I've informed myself a bit and as you obviously need to do this, your darling mother is going to see to it that you do it right and proper. Let's be honest, I always knew you were never going to be much of a he-man anyway so this may actually be an opportunity to turn this to your advantage. Just accept that mommy has taken control of your perverted little affectation now. The summer holidays have started so nothing stands in the way of realizing the wonderfull plans your lovely mother has made for you. We are going to have so much fun. I'm going to make your obvious and desperate desire for a life in silks, satins and pretty high heels come true in an almost monumental way", she beamed...holding back a giggle.

"Now listen good, sweetheart", she continued in her most amenable insincere voice. "As I've already mentioned, there are going to be more than a few necessary changes in this household so I've already boxed up most of your ugly boy clothes and for now I moved them to the attic. We can still decide to throw them away or, even better, burn them later, once you have truly embraced the reality of your wonderful new life....  And while you were away on your recent little school trip I already had some strong burly builders in to make some delightful changes to the spare-room which will be your room from now on.. You're gonna love it.......",she said, suppressing a giggle. "  As I don't believe in half measures I've had it restyled and furnished so overtly feminine and sugarsweet it would almost be a perfect fit for one of these junior pageant princesses. It even has a walk-in wardrobe..., soon to be filled with lots of pretty dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, stockings and of course the sexiest silky undies a fashionable young society miss could wish for. What is the point of being seriously wealthy if one can't spend it. Mommy is going to make sure her glamorous pretend-daughter has everything she needs to start her delightful new life....
 
 

As I don't believe in half measures I've had it restyled and furnished so overtly feminine and sugarsweet it would
almost be a perfect fit for one of these junior pageant princesses. It even has a walk-in wardrobe..., soon to
be filled with lots of pretty dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes, stockings and of course the sexiest silky undies
a fashionable young society miss could wish for

I think the men who worked on the room would have been completely outraged had they known the room was in fact intended for my son but I will see to it that you will fit into it in no time at all.... Next time I may need them, these so very masculine alpha males may very well be having spontaneous erections over getting mere glimpses of my glamorous little 'lady'......"

"And don't tell me you don't want them to because I won't believe a word of it.. I've discovered and read your secret little blog very carefully and I noticed you have openly admitted that you have been fantasizing about being lusted after by boys and men, sweetie....(and you'll probably be experiencing plenty of that before your darling mommy is ready with you.... In fact I expect nothing less..., I expect you may even get marriage proposals in the future. From men obviously.)"

"Now go upstairs and get changed immediately to show mommy what a pretty girl you really are. I've already done some essential shopping for my princess and I want my glamorous debutante to dress in the exquisite burgundy taffeta cocktail ensemble I've laid out for you, honey. I promiss you're going to love it.... There is also a matching pair of patent 5 inch Louboutin pumps and I also laid out the appropriate silk undies and nylons for the occasion. We'll be having drinks to celebrate the new You when you come down, darling.... Oh, and whenever you are dressed as a girl (which will be most of the time from now onwards), I will call you Donna Marie.... Clearly a more fitting name for the conceited ultra-feminine little lady I insist you must now become......"


 

(Donnie/Donna):
To be honest I was quite stunned by all this and.... Too stunned even to react or actually realise what mother had just decreed and what it meant. Not that that mattered as she wasn't in the habit of having her decisions questioned. She was just that much of a natural authority person. On top of that my beautiful stylish mother was my absolute idol and very much an inspiration for my dressing-up fascination right from the start..

 there was a more than fleeting
likeness with the Joan Collins
'Alexis' character in 'Dynasty'

(she wasn't the supermodel type of beauty but there was a more than fleeting likeness with Joan Collins's Alexis character in 'Dynasty') All these things were going through my head when I meekly but still quite apprehensively went up the stairs to meet my seemingly inescapable fate.... I could probably still escape and run away but did I really want that? I have to admit that secretly I was also fascinated and curious about the delights this situation could offer as I was of course still the compulsive crossdresser who brought this on himself and mother was probably right about everything else too. She usually is.... And I obviously was totally intrigued to see the cocktail dress my extremely fastidious fashion-expert of a mother had picked for me.... So when I finally reached the room in question and my curiosity had by far overtaken my apprehension I nervously opened the door to find that mother had by no means exaggerated in her description....both of the room as it's contents for there, spread out on the lavishly decorated bed was it, the most exquisite glamorous outfit I ever set eyes on. The type of confection someone like myself could start a religion over and prey to... It was a expertly tailored dress in real silk taffeta with a beautifully embellished bodice and an impossibly narrow calf-length pencil skirt. It came with an extremely glamorous evening jacket in transparent organza with silk taffeta collar and cuffs. Even without looking at the labels you could see by the materials, the craftmanship and the details that the whole combination must have cost a small fortune. An then there were the shoes, the accessories, the delicate vintage nylons and the foundations like a classy 'Kiss me deadly' waistcincher with six suspenders and a matching little padded bra. It was almost dizzying.

(I wonder if there is a word for the almost
'Stendhall syndrome'-like state that so many of
us, compulsive crossdressers, experience
at these sort of moments. I think there should be.)

Obviously the option of not dressing up had totally gone out of the window by then. I was still not very keen on going down to celebrate mother's clear victory but not getting dressed up in these heavenly garments was just not possible for someone with my particular predisposition. As soon as I  had started to dress all earlier reservations were gone as it just felt too good and half an hour or so later I descended the stairs as elegantly as possible looking like a million dollars. Mother actually applauded and smiled like the proverbial Cheshire cat at seeing the new me. She made me pose for her and took lots of pictures. Of course Champagne flowed richly.


Within weeks of mother's "takeover" I had almost completely reconciled myself with my new situation and actually started to enjoy mothers machinations as the now so awfully pretty and glamorous miss in the mirror had strongly re-awakened the very sexual-erotic feelings that had driven me to dress up to begin with. More than ever there were the sensual feelings the clothes themself provided, the feel of silks and satins on my teenage body, the mere restrictiveness, the impossibly high heels, the caress of real nylon stockings. It was still confusing but also extremely exciting. Of course mother encouraged and stimulated all of these old and new feelings to the absolute maximum. And it didn't stop at the clothes, it was seemingly endless deportment training, elocution and  ettiquette lessons, and then there were what she called romance-lessons where I was actually being conditioned to think and behave as a romantically inclined 17 year old miss by being made to read certain very feminine romantic books and magazines whilst deeply immersing myself in the role of the main female character. I was made to keep a girly girl diary, talking mainly about having crushes on certain supposedly hunky men and I was made to write soppy loveletters to said imaginary men, all under mothers supervision to make sure I did it just right. Needless to say that in the end I became a very responsive subject. By then I had been almost completely brainwashed and mother decided that it was about time that I was made to be more and more conscious of being desirable to men. Part of that was posting a series of recent photo's of me posing in my new glamorous clothes on my up to now almost private little online blog. Mother also insisted on polishing my profile a bit and it now suggested I had a preference for well-to-do older gentlemen, illustrated by one of my pictures showing me on the arm of mother's aristocratic-looking lawyer Mr.Harker-Swift(there to deliver the papers regarding my legal name-change) who had been more than happy to volunteer to pose as my 'boyfriend' for the picture. Mother had, in line with Lady Fenton's suggestions decided that the thought of her pretty feminized son being made completely helpless to resist the lascivious romantic attentions of elderly gentlemen was just too exquisitely twisted and deliciously depraved to miss out on. Him ending up actively desiring and welcoming such immoral contacts is so hopelessly romantic.... Basically the goal was to get me used to male attention and to get me to correspond with suitable male admirers whilst staying true to my role as an attractive young lady in search of romance. Mother would supervise and where needed correct me on my reactions and conversations with interested gentlemen, of whom it turned out there were quite a few.... I had to stay in character all the time and if said contacts were deemed suitable enough in mothers eyes, I was expected to exchange pictures with the gentleman and let my messages show a more romantic and intimate tone by adding kisses and similar little girly emoji's. To get me in the right mood mother would have the picture of said man printed and beautifully framed for my nightstand and at bedtime I was subsequently instructed to lovingly kiss his picture and verbally express my desperate attraction to him. Later, when left alone, I was expected to please myself with the very realistic looking dildo-vibrator mother got me whilst imagining being with him. Of course this was quite embarassing at first but to mother's delight I soon got into the ritual and meekly dedicated my nightime orgasms to my pretend lover whilst softly moaning and mumbling how I was falling desperately in love with him. Obviously both mother and I knew very well it was all nonsense but it was supposedly part of training and establishing my romantic automatisms and desired sexual preferences. It obviously worked as over a short period in time I noticed that my reactions and attitudes when in the presence of older gentlemen were increasingly of a romantic/erotic nature. I wanted them to notice me and I was almost inadvertently and shyly flirty around them. Even, and maybe especially our friendly silverhaired mr.Harker-Swift had my full attention these days... I just couln't get the image of me clinging to the arm of my supposed 'boyfriend' out of my head. Even when I know said elderly gentleman had been a close friend of my late father, I think I wouldn't mind him doing things with me, inappropriate behaviour things....

 
Meanwhile mother had been working on the next stage of her exquisite little scenario.....

Although The Diamond Hearts Matchmaking Agency  was known as a normal upmarket matchmaking and marriage service,...it was also popular with certain ladies between 18 and 30 who were looking for a 'sugardaddy' and it was quite popular with the wealthy older gentlemen in question because the discerning owner Lara Luv, who was an acquaintance of mrs. Zabor, set high standards for the girls when it came to style, good manners and foremost their ability to both please their generous 'uncle' and to adapt to the social graces of high society. It wasn't cheap but such arrangements aren't supposed to be. This way the well-to-do gentleman in question had some certainty he was connecting to the sort of young miss who was reliable and was unlikely to embarrass or even blackmail him( it happens). Equally the young ladies must be protected from predators posing as sugardaddies for less than generous reasons.

To be continued

More than ever there were the sensual
feelings the clothes themself provided,
the feel of silks and satins on my teenage
body, the mere restrictiveness, the
impossibly high heels, the caress of
real nylon stockings.

 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 5 :'ROMANCE'

 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 1

the delights of Stepmotherhood 2

the delights of Stepmotherhood 3

the delights of Stepmotherhood 4

'Romance'

The rest of the way home nothing worth mentioning happened but I was nonetheless relieved to reach the front door where the ladies were already waiting for my return. Obviously they were quite anxious to question me about my little excursion.

It was quite delightful to hear how our young pupil had carried out his task and how he had noticed certain details like how feeling the breeze around his stockinged legs was strangely exciting and how he had almost instinctively reacted to 'the Rangerover ladies' with an almost perfect air of disdain and distance. Priceless actually. It all seemed to have gone perfectly to plan, including Joyce almost bumping into our local bankmanager. Only thing was that when our darling had mentioned Mr. Warren I had noticed a slight tremor in his voice that was accompanied by a thoughtful look on his beautifully made-up face. I didn't go into that immediately but there was clearly something occupying that devious mind of our little lady. Still celebrating the successful expedition there was champagne and while not actually designed as such, the idea of said alcoholic beverage loosening the tongues did enter my mind and I may have been a tad generous with it.... Unexpectedly it wasn't Joyce but Mrs. Arthuro who got loose-lipped when she revealed that she actually knew Mr. Warren quite well as Mrs. Warren nr. 3 who was a fashion model in her younger days had been a close friend of her.  Mr. Warren had not been a very loyal husband and the rumour was that he was well known in the town's stripclubs and brothels under the alias 'Mr. Vincent' because of his remarkable resemblance to sixties movieactor and horrorfilm icon 'Vincent Price'. During Mrs. Arthuro's gossipy revelations about the lecherous gentleman in question I noticed Joyce had once again shown a curious frown on his face and at some point it looked like our little lady was actually blushing.... So when he, after his third glass of bubbles, had nervously and almost guiltily mumbled that he had been strangely attracted to the gentleman, I had been rather pleasantly surprised to see that the result of our darling's hypnotherapy sessions went deeper than I could have wished for.... It was plain to see that with all this extra information, several delicious new scenario's were already forming in my depraved stepmotherly mind. An obviously more commanding gentleman like old Mr. Warren would clearly be a far more challenging and interesting 'boyfriend' for our little lady  than the relatively tame Harvey. Maybe my fantasies were coloured by the Vincent Price comparison but in my head there was an image of Joyce in the role of an ultra femininely dressed damsell being roughly groped by the creepy lovestruck elderly count. I just can't help it, I've always been turned on by the darker sides of romanticism. When I first saw Flash Gordon I actually had an orgasm when the almost disgustingly innocent Dale Arden fell under the hypnotic spell of emperor Ming the merciless and was being forced to become his bride before the plot was ruined by that boring goody Flash dude. A young me even rooted for the lovely Cruella Deville and the wicked witch of the west in Oz(remind me to order some of those flying monkeys one of these days)...
Anyway, after sending a slightly tipsy Joyce to bed, Mrs. Arthuro and I hatched a plan for the next intoxicating stage of the exciting new life I had been forcing upon him. When I later listened at his bedroom-door in passing, I noticed hearing the familiar humming sound of my darling's sextoy accompanied by soft moans, proving that the fascination with his own recently found feminine sexuality was still very much alive. And when everything goes the way Mrs Arthuro and I had envisaged, his relatively pristine boypussy may need to get used to getting stretched sooner than expected, as it were...  
We still had a lot to do though. First Mrs. Arthuro would use the tactic of 'walking her pooch' herself to accidentally meet up and re-aquaint herself with her old friend Mr. Warren, then casually bring up the subject of Joyce as he would undoubtedly have recognized little Coco with his rhinestone collar. Depending on her supposedly lecherous friend's reaction and attitudes she would try to get him to cooperate with our delightfull plans. So when Mrs. Arthuro returned from her mission with an victorious smile on her face and reported her findings it looked like the next step was inventing some vaguely believable reason to get young Joyce to meet up with the gentleman in question. A reason for getting Joyce dressed and made-up a little more extravagant than he was already used to was solved by deciding that us 'ladies' would 'dress for dinner' tonight. Needless to say that no costs or efforts were spared to make our little lady look like every sophisticated older gentleman's ultimate dreamgirl...
During said dinner my ladyfriend dished up a phoney story about her completely accidental meeting with her old friend without disclosing any details about what was said so when she afterwards asked our little lady to deliver a message from her to Mr. Warren, our princess would be none-the-wiser about things to come.

It must have been around nine that night when I got on my way, carrying a big

envelope supposedly containing the lady's message to Mr. Warren. I was as expected meticulously dressed in my most elegant coat wearing my glamorous silk Dolce&Gabbana headscarf, my highest Louboutin pumps and my Gucci clutch.
After a fairly uneventful walk I had arrived at the elderly gentleman's large Victorian townhouse and proceeded to nervously walk up the garden path to the front door. Nervously I ascended the steps, but as I was getting used to stepmothers often scary tasks I just obeyed her instructions and rang the bell. After a short while I heard movements and the door opened revealing a very aristocratic and magnificent looking Mr. Warren, wearing a very elegant vintage smoking with the appropriate real bow tie. For a moment I was dumbstruck by the effect of his magnetic presence just like that time on the street but this time, with him all dressed up, it was much much stronger. I was almost ready to worship this demi-god of a man. " Now tell me what I can do to help you', young lady...", he said in a  very amenable voice. Slightly reassured by the gentleman's amicable tone I told him I was just delivering a message from Mrs. Arthuro.

  
Obviously I wasn't in any doubt that delivering the message had in the end only been an excuse the manipulative ladies made up to get me there and I later found out the message had only read: "Here she/he is. She is totally hot for you. Be nice to her but don't damage the goods on your first romantic date. We insist that our pretty debutante must stay a virgin just a little bit longer".
After he had casually looked at the message, he slipped it back into the envelope which he slid into his pocket before turning his attention back to me, thanking me for delivering it without reveiling it's content. He then took a step towards me and held my shoulders at arms' length while he continued to look me over. "Now let me have another good look at you, sweetheart."
"If Mrs. Arthuro and your dear stepmother hadn't told me I would never have guessed or believed you were ever a boy. And she didn't exaggerate when she described you either. You really do look like a young, extremely glamorous fifties moviestar and I don't think there is a heterosexually motivated male in town that wouldn't dream of  doing very naughty things with a gorgeous little lady like you. princess, " he said, his eyes still devouring me, "Are you sure you don't you have  some young stud boyfriend to go to on a saturday night like this? Not really, Sir." I said. "Stepmother thinks I should only date older gentlemen." A mischievous smile appeared on his handsome manly face....
"So you really came here to seduce me tonight, didn't you, sweetheart? The quite formidable Mrs. Arthuro already informed me about your preferences and romantic orientation. Now tell me that this is what you really want, darling!" he said in a voice that was at the same time suggestive and commanding. "Tell me that you desperately want to become my little girlfriend!
"Yes Sir, I do!" I almost whimpered. "Your stepmother told me that you have been having naughty fantasies about meeting a forcefull masculine gentleman like myself for quite some time now. Is that true honey?" Almost devoutly looking up at the gorgeous man towering above me, I once again nervously mumbled a timid "Yes Sir." Even as I had been totally useless at resisting sweet Harvey's kisses, my romantic feelings had never been as urgent as they seemed to be now. 
Of course he had read me perfectly because in my mind, even as I was still a bit apprehensive about things to come, I have to admit that I had been compulsively fantasizing about meeting him all the time while I was elegantly sashaying toward his house, as well as last night after bedtime... I should also have been suspicious of the almost salacious way my devisive stepmother had made me dress for tonight's events. Everything was just a little bit 'more' tonight. The heels just a bit higher, my undies a tiny bit frillier, the stockings even silkier than normal. And then there was the near-perfect hairdo, the fabulous eyelashes and finally the delicious pure silk satin designer cocktail gown.  Clearly my darling stepmother had quite intentionally dressed me up as the ultimate young seductress on the prowl. Looking at the expression on the older gentleman's face it was working...."Now, young lady, don't you think it's about time you'd give your beau a kiss? Yes sir," I nervously uttered as I took a step towards him and proceeded to stand on tippytoes to give my elderly 'Don Juan' a sweet little kiss on the mouth. I even closed my eyes doing so... "No, no, no ! Not like that, princess. That's very sweet but that is the way you'd kiss your mother, not your 'boyfriend'. I'll show you a real 'boyfriend-kiss', would you like that, darling?" he said while his large hands took hold of my waist and drew me closer, my smallish hands with the salon-nails now resting on his chest.... I became very aware that I had never before stood so close to a male that was as big as my mysterious 'beau'. Even on my very high heels, I had to stand on tippytoes and look up to face him. He just stood there for a few very long seconds, making me feel very small and delicate. And then it happened! The kiss blew my mind completely and for a moment I feared I was going to faint. It felt as if it all had happened in slow motion. This handsome manly face had looked down on his 'conquest' and the as if in a dream he came in for the kiss, me yielding and offering no resistance to his thick muscular tongue as it brutally forced his way into my very responsive mouth.
I could feel his surprisingly strong and manly 76 year old body press against my smallish girlyfied physique. I felt the trousers of his very stylish oldfashioned smoking brush against my delicate nylons whilst my girl penis, as stepmother preferred to call my diminuative appendage, seemed to no avail, desperate to escape it's straining silken prison.. I really felt I was 'his' girl now. I loved the idea that he could turn me on like this, just by acting like the mature alpha male he appeared to be but it was still a bit scary too. He held me like that, still kissing me deep and passionately with me almost devotedly clinging to him, for what seemed an eternity. When we finally came up for air my Romeo wasted no time and virtually dragged me into the house where he gallantly proceed to take my coat and headscarf only to be confronted by me looking even more glamorous in my exquisite peach satin off-the-shoulder cocktail gown. That was clearly his 'cue' to continue our romantic explorations with even more urgency and ardor. When he again grabbed my waist and kissed me it was with so much lust and force that he physically overpowered me and almost violently pushed me against a doorpost. I totally loved it. The whole idea of awakening this much desire and passion in an experienced older man like him was completely intoxicating. To demonstrate my devotion my arm was around his neck to signal him to continue his urgent tongue-invasion. His hands were

only to be confronted by me looking even more glamorous in my exquisite
peach satin off-the-shoulder cocktail gown. That was clearly his 'cue' to
continue our romantic explorations with even more urgency and ardor.

everywhere too and when his leg forced it self between mine I noticed my suitor had a fairly large protrusion in his trousers. Wanting to enhance his passions more than ever now I decided to be bold and put my hand on it and started to lovingly stroke his rigid member through the fabric of his trousers, driving this darling man almost mad with desire and lust.... " Oh my god darling... What are you doing to me?" he muttered in between kisses and whispered declarations of love and lust. "I want you so bad darling" I whispered in his ear, knowing that the conditions stepmother had probably set my lover still ruled out actual penetration on our first romantic encounter.... Meanwhile my 'boyfriend' was, his arm possessively around my waist, guiding me to a large settee in the adjoining livingroom where I elegantly sat down, crossing my knees and adjusting the skirt of my gorgeous dress over the luscious frothy petticoats while 'my boyfriend' was busy with glasses and champagne to celebrate our 'union'. After he finally joined me on the couch with our drinks it didn't take long before his hand had once again possessively encircled my nipped-in silken waist pulling me closer whilst the other hand had now settled on my smooth nylon-encased knee. A surprisingly intimate new experience, to feel his strong large hand lovingly caress me like that really turned me on. His hand that after some delicious fumbling around with the hem of the skirts moved a bit further up my thigh, emphasizing how this ultra-feminine and delicate way of dressing was making me feel so sumptuously vulnerable and accessible in that area. For some reason it's an extremely erotic feeling, especially when it's accompanied by being in the strong manly arms of the man you've got the hots for. Once again my mouth was invaded by his wonderfull thick muscular tongue so deep and hungrily that I felt giddy when he allowed me to come up for air. And all the time my excited little peeny was slowly oozing pre-cum in its silken prison, almost like I was having a prolonged very slow female orgasm....
While we were making out like mad his hand had reached my stocking tops and was slowly moving towards an even more sensitive region and in turn I was again lovingly manipulating his wonderful still hidden rockhard penis through the fabric of his loose-fitting trousers. Only moments later I had managed to timidly open my boyfriends elegant trousers to release his gorgeous big veiny member. When I touched it  my lover shuddered but immediately rewarded my gesture by lovingly rubbing the part of my gorgeous silky knickers that contained my little boyparts and kissing me again. Underneath the opulent ruffled silk knickers said boy parts were for aesthetic reasons still neatly tucked between my legs with a tiny specially made string. Having it gently manipulated through the fabric of the knickers was heaven. We must have been making out whilst gently exploring eachother's genitalia like that for quite some time but at some point, in between increasingly hungry kisses, this darling increasingly excited man had managed to gently steer his beautiful large throbbing manhood under my skirts and between my smooth nylon encased legs up into my pretty knickers. Then, as he with my loving assistance had started gently rubbing his delicious big mancock against my small girlpenis , completely driving me crazy, he proceeded to ardently and in the end almost aggressively dry-hump me untill he collapsed on top of me, awarding me by filling my pretty knickers with large globs of  his warm manly fluids. My small 'flooded' girl penis was completely falling in love with his large mancock....

 

 

I had the almost perfect illustration ready for the finale of this one but I remembered Blogger's rules on full frontal cum-shots just in time..... 

Another Joyce piccie....

I can't help myself,  I just have to. I'm just fooling around with pictures to pass the time and sometimes I fall in love with the result. Still almost think of my stuff as short movie scripts actually. Of course totally unthinkable at the time but I imagine them as some darker episodes of television series like 'Rod Serling's Night Gallery', 'Outer limits' or 'Amazing Stories'. To compensate for this being virtually impossible I do the collages and sometimes even small animations. The story will probably continue but I'm lazy and I have never been a very prolific writer to begin with. This will have to do for now....

Obviously Joyce was never going to be 'just a girl', I
wanted him to be the ultimate 'little lady'. Both
a deliciously helpless fragile debutante and a
teenage vamp who'd be the ultimate wet dream of
every boy and man who'd lay his eyes on 'her'. An
archetype of imagined erotic girlhood that was never
made to exist in the real world.... Print Size