An Aunt For An Aunt, A Nephew For A Niece free porn video

An Aunt for an Aunt, a Nephew for a Niece By Jennifer Richardson When my parents had split up, my mother had brought me back North to a small village in the middle of nowhere. She had managed to get a job at the village junior school but as we were so far from a school for me I was sent to a boarding school some sixty miles away. This meant that I was only able to spend the weekends and holidays at the cottage she'd bought with her share of the divorce settlement. My Dad had disappeared from the face of the earth, and all I ever heard of him after the split was that he'd gone off with "that woman." Obviously when a child's parents split up for whatever reason it is very upsetting. It had a profound affect on me in that from being an outgoing and extrovert kid I sort of sank into myself, once we'd moved I was much quieter and introverted. I found it difficult to make friends at my new school and there were no other boys my own age in the village, so I found myself spending a lot of time on my own. The school was very sports oriented and being the world's worst sportsman I made myself more of an outcast with my awful performances on the sports field. At least my schoolwork didn't suffer too much and though I under performed for the most part, I still managed to struggle through somehow. By the time I was sixteen I still hadn't grown all that much. I wasn't getting any taller and whilst all the other boys were filling out and putting on muscle I remained slim. It didn't help that my shock of blonde hair seemed to be the only thing that showed any sign of growing. It could be cut, by mum one week, and inside of another week it needed cutting again. Mum got really fed up with this and told me I might as well tie it back in a ponytail whilst at school for my final year. I became the target for much of the school's teasing and bullying. Mum threw herself into village life, the parish council, fund raising for the church hall, flower shows and just about everything that went on. It got to the stage that I spent much of my time at home on my own, maybe making me withdraw into myself even further. I became very shy, almost as if instead of growing up, I got stuck at sixteen but looking fourteen. Puberty seemed to go right past me, whilst all the other boys at school were getting taller, heavier and hairier. Their voices cracked and lowered to deeper tones whereas mine stayed the same soft lilt that it had always been. My legs and chest refused to grow hair, my legs stayed long and slim and there wasn't an inch of muscle on my arms. I remember catching a sidelong glimpse of myself in a mirror in the showers. With a towel wrapped round my waist and my hair loose to the shoulders I looked more like a young girl than the sixteen year old boy, (young man) I was supposed to be. My lips looked that little bit too full, like as if I had a permanent pout. My eyes too large and rounded and way too China blue. If I hadn't caught this glimpse of myself, who knows, my life might never have changed as it did. Of course Auntie Margaret had an awful lot to do with it. She moved into the cottage next door to us two months or so after we had arrived in the village. I don't pretend that I understood all the rumours that flew around the village about her. I know now that most of them were rather unsavoury and far more exaggerated than the truth. She didn't really help matters by keeping mostly to herself so perhaps she didn't know that the village was alive with gossip about her. What I do know for sure is that the village had never seen anything like her. Margaret was a little too bright for the village to be honest. She was too fashionable and too colourful by half. Where the local women preferred shades of brown and grey, Aunt Margaret ran through the rainbow and in almost every material imaginable. From her tailored suits and power dressing to the cocktail gowns and eveningwear she displayed in the local pub. The fact that she was in her early thirties, apparently unattached and strikingly attractive only added to the gossip. All the local men, mostly farmers or small businessmen, showed more than a little interest in her, while those who had partners did so as discretely as possible, the single men did so openly. Not that she ever gave them any encouragement; she was polite and courteous but that seemed to be as far as it went. She was such a contrast to mum that it came as a bit of a surprise for me that they became firm friends very quickly. Whenever I was at home she would always go out of her way to be kind to me. I earned a little extra pocket money running errands for her; I did odd jobs around her house, even so far as doing her cleaning on more than one occasion. Other than mum, I don't think she made any friends in the village. Hardly surprising really as most of the married women were frightened of the effect she had on their husbands. There were few single women as generally when they became of age they married someone locally or moved away to make their way in the world. With me being away at a boarding school that didn't have half term holidays like other schools, they were added to the holidays during summer and over Christmas. These extended holidays overlapped mum's school holidays at either end, so I would arrive home two weeks before Mother's holiday started and still be at home a week or so after she went back to school. I knew that after my exams I was going to have to make some big decisions. Was I going to go on to college, was I going to try to get straight into work or should I sit around the village for the rest of my life? Before Aunt Margaret moved into the village, I was mostly left on my own to kick my heels. After she moved in at least I had someone to spend some time with. Even though it might have seemed odd for a sixteen year old boy to spend so much time with a woman in her early thirties I didn't see it that way. We were similar in that we were both sort of outsiders, the kids in the village didn't really shun me, they just didn't bother with me, or I with them to be fair. Aunt Margaret had things much the same as me, whilst the village gossiped she wasn't bothered by it, if she knew about it and I think she did. From meeting her the first time when mum had introduced her as Mrs Robson it hadn't taken that long until it was "Auntie Margaret." Soon after that the Auntie was dropped when we were on our own and she was "Auntie" only when mum was around. We grew very close; closer than I ever was with my real relatives and I suppose it would be fair to say that I developed something of a crush on her. The first Christmas holiday we shared in the village was the catalyst that changed my life completely. It being the first one without my dad being around it was a pretty miserable time. There was a heavy snowfall but once you've been out in it once and become frozen to the core then the novelty soon wears off. I'd only just got back into the house when mum called me through to the kitchen. "Do me a favour pet, can you shovel the front path for me? I'll have to go down to the shop shortly and I don't want to wade through that drift." I couldn't really understand that, once she was across the path to the our front door she would only have to fight her way down to the village shop. Still, I knew better than to argue with her, one of her frosty glares was usually enough to get me doing whatever it was she wanted. "And do Mrs. Robson's path as well, she may want to go out as well." Typical of her thinking, good turns and all that. An hour later and I was convinced that my fingers were going to drop off, my feet were becoming blocks of ice and if I ever saw another snowflake it would be too many days too soon. "Thanks Alexander, you look chilled to the bone!" Mrs Robson's voice rang out from inside her front door. "Hi Mrs. Robson, Mum thought you might want to go out later." I said a little lamely through chattering teeth. "What are you both doing on New Years Eve?" she asked. "Er, I don't know, I don't think she's got anything planned." In between my teeth chattering again. "Well, ask her if she'd like to come over to here to see the New Year in. Alexander is rather formal, how about I call you Alex and you call me Margaret?" she asked. "Actually Alex is my dad's name and I don't think mum would like it much." I replied, imagining her horror if someone dared to call me Alex. "How about Sandy then? That has a nice ring to it?" It sounded a bit girlie to me but I'd rebuffed her once and didn't want to offend her. "Okay then." I said and added that I'd ask mum about New Year. Mum rang Mrs Robson later that afternoon to say that we'd love to go and that was that. There was an absolute howling blizzard of a storm that evening. It started at about nine and didn't stop until approaching midnight. By the time it had abated it had managed to deposit a good foot of snow outside and the wind had whipped it up into a huge drift that all but sealed us into Auntie Margaret's for the night. "Well that's your work cut out for the morning dear!" Mum had laughed; she'd had too much sherry if you ask me. Once the chimes of Big Ben had rung, mum seemed to be falling asleep in front of the big open fire so Auntie Margaret showed her up to the spare bedroom. I figured that I would manage quite nicely if I pulled the two large armchairs together but when Auntie Margaret came back down, she was having none of it and led me into the back room. It was like walking into the dressmaking department of an exclusive department store. Everywhere I looked I saw colours, from the most vivid of yellows to the darkest blue through to black. There was a large table covered with the cut out shapes of paper used to make up patterns and possibly the largest sewing machine I'd ever seen in my life. Along one wall were shelves stacked with more material; a double-decked rail full of ladies clothes took up the wall opposite. From suits to party dresses, eveningwear to ball gowns. "Will you be alright on this?" She had been lifting boxes from a large comfortable looking sofa. "I'll be fine, thanks." I added after a moment, my head still swimming by the colourful assault on my eyes. "Just a minute and we'll make sure." She crossed the room to a large tea chest and sifted through some fabrics before pulling out what turned out to be a long length of lustrous black velvet. Almost like a magician pulling out rabbits from a hat she rummaged through the chest again, this time lifting out an armful of what looked to be red silk. "It's alright, really," I protested, worried that I might ruin her things. Well, things like wet dreams happened on occasion even to someone who had missed puberty. "Don't worry, these bits were put aside just in case I needed something in the way of a patch." She said laying the velvet over the sofa and the silk on top of it. It would have to be one hell of a patch if you asked me, there was enough material there to make a large tent! "If you lie on the sofa and pull the other ends up over you you'll be plenty warm enough Sandy." I could see that I wasn't going to talk her out of it so I thanked her again. She beamed a big smile at me and then kissed me on the cheek. "Happy New Year darling." She stroked my hair and I know I went bright red. With that she left me to get on with it on my makeshift but rather exotic bed. I slipped naked onto the cool silk and raised the rest of both it and the velvet over me. The weight of the velvet surprised me greatly but the silk had such and effect on my body that I lay still as a statue for a while, not daring to move. If I moved the slightest inch, the silk caressed me everywhere. To try and avoid it I even slid myself between the velvet and the sofa but that did the same so I just lay there, the filling in a velvet and silk sandwich. My penis reared upright and it was all I could do to stop myself touching it. The silk was having enough of an effect as it was, so I gritted my teeth and summoned up all the concentration I could muster. Trying very hard to force back what I was sure would come. I must have fallen asleep at some stage, though I don't know when but the sensation of the fabrics were still with me, unsullied, when Margaret came in with a cup of tea, a vision in a long lilac wrap of shimmering satin. The top fold of the velvet had slipped off me during the night leaving only the red silk covering me. Unfortunately it stuck up as if it was caught on a small tent pole. I looked from it to her with a look of absolute horror on my face. She looked at it, at my face and back at it again. I was waiting for her to scream when she crossed the room towards me, I half expected to get the scalding tea thrown in my face. Instead, she sat on the side of the sofa and smiled at me again, putting the cup on the floor. I could smell the soft floral scent; it seemed to be smothering me though it was only the slightest hint of fragrance. Her right hand squeezed my shoulder gently through the silk, the wrap parting over her knee to reveal a large expanse of her long lithe right leg. "Don't worry Sandy, it has that effect on boys, that's why so many men buy silk undies for their wives." My mind was working overtime but I couldn't find anything to say, nothing that would make any sense anyway. I figured the nearest I would get to words would be a high-pitched yelp. "Your Mum isn't up yet so don't worry, it'll be our little secret." She leaned forward ever so slowly and kissed me on the forehead. She stroked my hair for a moment, smiled that wonderful smile and then left me with my tea. It was at that moment that my schoolboy crush developed and blossomed into a deep love. I got out of the fabric sandwich, separated the velvet from the silk and was rewarded with a million static electric shocks. I folded them and left them on the sofa before dressing in a hurry. I could hear mum and Margaret talking in the kitchen so went through to them trying not to look guilty. "Morning Sandy and a Happy New Year! Did you sleep okay?" She asked; as if what she had seen and said had never happened. "Fine thanks, Auntie Margaret." I was rewarded by a beaming smile from her and a look of surprise from mum. She didn't say anything at the time; she saved that for when we got home. "Where on earth did the 'Auntie' come from?" She wasn't angry, I don't think, more curious. "I, er, I don't really know, it's just, well, you know what the gossip is like and she's not like that at all. I think I just wanted her to know, well, that we aren't like the rest of the village. "I see, well, if that's how you feel, you'd best get to work clearing the snow from Auntie Margaret's path hadn't you?" I started at our door, fighting my way down the path, piling the snow up until there was a wall of the horrible cold white stuff. I did the same along Auntie Margaret's path and ended up with another huge wall. I realised then that nobody would be able to walk round them unless they walked in the road and that was just one huge drift so I had to more or less start all over again, moving it shovel by shovel, out of the way round the corner. I don't think I have ever been as cold in my life. Mum went past and told me she was going to visit a list of people as long as the telephone directory. "Do you want to come?" "No thanks, I just want to get back indoors, I'm freezing!" It took me another half-hour to get the snow cleared; cursing my luck, as I knew I'd only have to do it all over again should there be another snowfall. I hurried home to find that the door was securely locked. I knew where my spare key was; in fact, looking in the kitchen window I could see it on the bench where I'd left it. I could have cried in frustration though it was just as well I hadn't as there was enough ice surrounding me as it was and I didn't fancy having my eyelids freezing together. I was wondering if I should try to catch mum but didn't know where she had gone first and I didn't really feel like chasing, all be it slowly and stiffly, round the village in search of her. I remembered the roaring fire in Auntie Margaret's front room and headed round to her. I barely managed to knock on the door and she seemed an age coming to answer it. As soon as she saw me she bundled me inside and through into the kitchen. All I wanted was some instant warmth but she obviously knew what she was doing and knew well enough that my body temperature had to warm slowly just as it would have lowered slowly. "You're soaked through to the skin darling, get out of those wet clothes and I'll get you a blanket!" When she came back I was still fumbling at the zipper of my coat with frozen fingers inside soaked leather gloves. A small pool of melting snow formed on the tiled floor around my drowned trainers. All I could do was say 'sorry' over and over again through my chattering teeth. "There's no need to apologise Sandy, you shouldn't have worked so hard in that cold is all there is too it." Her deft fingers soon had the zip of my coat undone, even in my cold frozen state I couldn't help but notice her long glossy pink fingernails. Once the coat was off, she kept going until I was standing in just my pants. I didn't even get the chance to protest before they were whipped off too. The blanket she had mentioned was no such thing it was the same length of warm black velvet I'd slept on and under before. Auntie Margaret wrapped it round and round me and then over each shoulder. It draped as far as my ankles and I felt rather ridiculous, as if I were wearing one of her dresses and a cape. Whatever I looked like didn't bother me in the least; I was thawing out by the second. My soaking clothes were draped over a clotheshorse next to a radiator in the kitchen and she then led me through to the lounge where the fire was low in the grate. "Not too much warmth too quickly, I'll ring your mum and explain." "She's not in Auntie Margaret, she's out visiting and I forgot my key." "Right, so you can stay with me and keep me company until she comes home. In fact, I think the best thing for you is a warm bath." She brought me a mug of hot chocolate before going upstairs to run it. I was mortified when she led me up the stairs and began unwinding me from my velvet cocoon. "But..." "It's okay darling, I can't leave you alone in the bath, what if you pass out?" I had my head down, staring at the floor, so embarrassed and so ashamed. Naked, vulnerable and feeling so humiliated over my less than masculine body. I stepped into the bath and tried to cover myself with my hands when I sat down. The water was warm, not hot, but warm enough to make my chilled nerves tingle. She must have put some kind of fragrant oil in the water as well as some bubble bath. At least my boy's toys were hidden under the bubbles so she wouldn't see how small I was. At least I was hidden until she began washing me, just as if I was a much younger child. She shampooed my hair and massaged the thick creamy liquid all over my head. After conditioning it she rinsed it off and ran a comb through my long hair. As soon as the water began to cool she unplugged the bath and I watched in growing horror as the water level lowered to reveal my little boy's erection. I couldn't help myself and I started to sob. "Sandy! Whatever is the matter?" She asked, helping me from the bath and wrapping a huge towel round me fresh from the radiator. I shook my head and kept it firmly downcast. "Oh, I see, well, if you like, how about I take it as a compliment that being around me gives you a hard-on?" Looking back it seems a little odd that she should call what passed for a penis a hard-on. Maybe "stiffy" or "stalk" might have been more usual, then again Auntie Margaret always has been straight and to the point. She gently raised my chin and gave me a kiss on the cheek. When she whispered in my ear I nearly lost control completely. "You know Sandy, I kind of like knowing I can do that to you." Her arm round my waist she led me through to her bedroom and sat me in front of the dressing table. I barely got a chance to see much of the room other than the ornately carved four-poster bed. She produced a hair dryer and began drying my long blonde hair. She cooed over how lovely it was, the first time that anyone had ever said anything about it that wasn't nasty. "Do you know how many girls would kill for hair like this, to have it as lovely and thick as this?" I still couldn't find my voice but managed to shake my head. "Can I show you something?" I didn't think I was in a position to say no so I just nodded. "Okay, close your eyes and don't open them until I say you can, okay?" I nodded again and closed my eyes. "Trust me Sandy, just our little secret." I felt a soft brush moving through my hair and then a comb. She was easing it up to the top of my head and holding it with one hand. Whatever it was she was doing I had the impression that she had done it before, maybe as a hairdresser or stylist. This was confirmed when I heard the snip of a pair of scissors. "Auntie Margaret?" "Don't worry darling, just snipping off some split ends and straightening things out a little bit. Who cut your hair last anyway?" "Mum does it, it never stops growing and she got sick of having to trek back and forth to town every weekend just to take me to the barbers." "Well tell her that she needn't do that, I'll do it for you." There were quite a few more snips and I felt something soft brush against the nape of my neck. By the time she'd finished I couldn't feel my hair against my neck like usual. "Just hold on one second darling, just the finishing touch." Something cold and metallic clipped to my right ear and then my left. I knew they could only be earrings and was stunned for more than a moment. Even after she had said I could open my eyes I couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror and see how pathetic I knew I'd look. "It's okay Sandy, have a look." I opened my eyes and immediately looked over my shoulder. "It's you silly, there's only you and I here." She laughed softly, gently turning my head round again. "I thought there was a girl behind me!" I gasped. Auntie Margaret had gathered my hair on top of my head and back combed it so it fluffed out softly. It was held there with a pink chiffon scarf that fell down the back of my head. The scarf was the soft touch that I'd felt at the nape of my neck. She'd allowed a few strands of hair to escape her attention and these hung softly down the side of my face. They did nothing to hide the thick gold coloured hoops that were clipped to my ears. "I can't believe it, really, I mean, I actually look like a girl!" "You've turned out to be far more cute than I thought you were going to look, quite a stunner in fact." "I'd get killed at school if they saw this." "Well they won't will they, unless you were to do your hair up?" I turned my head from side to side trying to believe what I was seeing. "I wonder..." She said looking at me in the mirror. "What?" "Well, when I wrapped you in the blanket, the velvet, I had an idea." I suddenly knew what she was going to say; as if she had picked up on the thoughts I'd had in the kitchen, about imagining myself in one of her dresses and the cape. "You've had an idea about a dress?" I said in a whisper. "Have you been reading my mind?" Auntie Margaret smiled into the mirror, her hands resting lightly on my shoulders. "No, at least I don't think so, it was just when you first wrapped me in the velvet, I sort of imagined it looked a bit like a dress." "Would you mind if I did it again? I'd like another look at it." "Well, I don't know it seems a bit, well, weird. Dressing up like a girl." "Well if you're uncomfortable about it we'll forget about it. Hang on here a minute and I'll check to see if your clothes are dry. I'll come back up and undo your hair in a minute, or can you manage?" Her eyes met mine in the mirror again and added, "I'd have a better idea what the dress would look like but it's not a problem if you feel uncomfortable." I was in a quandary; on the one hand I wanted to spend as much time around her as possible, my body told me that as well as my head. On the other hand there was the sneaking suspicion that wearing something that was a bit like a dress was, well, wrong. I looked into the mirror again and saw my reflection, what would I look like with my hair done like girls and wearing the velvet? I was intrigued, more than that really. I knew in the back of my mind that I wanted to see. "Okay then, if it helps, I'll do it." "I don't know Sandy, I mean if you're nervous about it or scared it really doesn't matter." "Really!" I said too quickly, "Really Auntie Margaret, I really would like to help." If I helped maybe I'd get to visit more often, I hated being dragged round the village after mum, and sometimes it was a relief to get back to school. Trouble was if I somehow managed to convince mum that I didn't want to go with her I just ended up kicking my heels sitting around the house. "Well, if you're sure, I'll just go and get some things." She left me looking at myself in the mirror and around the room. Taking in the bed and the soft furnishings, it was very much a girl's room, woman's room and fitted Auntie Margaret perfectly. When she came back she was carrying a large pair of scissors, a tape measure, some tailors chalk, a box of pins and the roll of red silk. She sent me to collect the velvet from the bathroom where she had left it. On returning to the bedroom I saw she had rolled out the silk on the bed. She took the velvet from me and showed me what she wanted me to do, tacking the silk to the velvet with the long pins. I was only just starting at my side of the bed when she stopped me. "Sandy, you'll need to be taking that robe off darling, it will still be damp from after your bath. I don't want you getting a chill." I watched her walk over to the long wardrobes and pick out a satin wrap in a deep purple colour, it had white lace trim to the edges and to the hem. She held it up for me and I hesitated only for a moment before meeting her in the middle of the room. I was very conscious of her eyes on me when I took off the robe. She held the wrap for me and as soon as the satin touched me, my penis sprang to life. I blushed bright red and lowered my head again, feeling ashamed that I couldn't control the reaction. "Remember what I said Sandy? That I like it? That I like knowing you get hard when we are together?" I nodded miserably. "Well then, you should enjoy it too, if you like wearing and feeling soft materials on your skin then I don't mind. In fact lets see if you feel any happier if you have something to cover your lovely hard-on." I heard the wardrobe door open again, and then close. "Here you are Sandy, put these on, they come as a set." I looked up to see she was holding a pair of what looked like shorts and a vest with thin shoulder straps. They were in the same crimson satin as the wrap and were again lace trimmed. "These are called French knickers," she gave a giggle, "and this is a camisole top. At least you might not feel so naked if you were to wear them." She held them out to me; she didn't thrust them out at me, just gently offered them to me. I took them and whispered my thanks as she held the wrap while I stepped out of it, slid into the camisole and the French knickers. The sensation of the satin against my skin almost overwhelmed me. I was soon shivering and trembling and again I fought for control. I loved the way that the material made me feel; with the panties caressing me I didn't have to worry that my erection would suddenly poke out through the front of either the robe or the wrap. I was able to relax and enjoy the strange sensation. Once I was back in the crimson wrap, I felt much happier and more relaxed. For the next half an hour or so we chatted whilst pinning the red silk and the black velvet together. She told me how her husband was killed in a car crash and that she hadn't been able to stay in the house they'd shared together because of the memories. He had left her a lot of money, but instead of just sitting back in life, filled with boredom and regret she'd begun to design and make clothes for people. This filled her time and kept her occupied because she enjoyed it. "I like to imagine the pleasure people get when they receive their dress or suit or whatever it is I've made for them. I imagine them going to work feeling confident in their look, or going out to dinner, the theatre or just for an evening out looking stunning in one of my creations." I liked the idea of that and asked if she didn't miss being able to do those things herself, "I mean, the village isn't exactly full of things to do and the people are a little odd about people who move here from elsewhere." "You've noticed it too?" I told her about school and about my lack of friends, in fact I opened up to her in a way I never would have done with mum. "It sounds to me like you have a lack of confidence in yourself Sandy." "Maybe, I just like to keep my head down and out of trouble. At school I'm an easy target because I'm no good at sports and because of my hair. You wouldn't believe how many times I think about just chopping it all off!" She reached across the bed and placed a hand gently across mine. "Promise me that you won't, I really think it suits you, and the way that you have your hair now looks lovely. We can't have any fun doing it like that if you go chopping your hair off can we?" "Alright then, I promise, I can put up with the teasing really. It's more annoying than anything serious." "Good, now then, lets have your measurements." She stood up and stepped round to the dressing table where she had left the tape measure. "My measurements?" I asked in surprise. "Sure, I'd like to make a mock up, sort of a 3D model to work from. Unless you think that's a bad idea?" "Er, well, no, if it will help then I want to help." She took measurements across my shoulders, my hips, waist and thigh, down my arms, every which way in fact. When she measured round my chest she giggled. "I'll have to add a bit extra in here darling, you don't really have the bits to fill it!" This provoked me into the first honest laugh that I had shared with someone for what seemed like years. "Tell you what, how about you make us a cup of tea? Then we'll cut the cloth and see what we've come up with?" "Okay, shall I bring it up?" "No, bring it into the back room downstairs, oh, just a minute, your feet." I glanced down at my bare feet. "You'll catch your death if you're wandering round downstairs. The floor in the kitchen and the back room get too cold for bare feet." "Oh." I was a little disappointed; I'd been looking forward to doing something for her, more or less a thank you for looking after me. Making a cup of tea seemed to be nothing in comparison to her kindness. "My socks should be dry by now." I suggested. "You can't wear socks when you're dressed like that! You'd ruin the look! There's a pair of slippers under the dressing table, try them on." I looked to where she was pointing and saw a pair of slippers with a broad fluffy band across the bridge of the foot. Not only that but they were high heeled. "I can't wear those! I'll never be able to walk in them!" I protested, though not loudly. "Oh go on, give them a try, nobody will ever know!" Auntie Margaret encouraged me. I slipped them onto my feet and felt the way that the heels made me stand up straighter. The pull on my leg muscles was odd at first, then, as I adjusted to them I took a couple of wobbling steps. "Don't look down at the floor, look where you are going and place the heel down flat before you place the sole." She told me. I walked the length of the room and then out from the room, along the landing, past the bathroom to the spare room and then back again. I immediately noticed the difference in the way I had to carry myself. There was no way that the heels would let me slouch as I normally did. I walked confidently back to the bedroom where Auntie Margaret gave me a short round of applause. "I think you're a natural darling, and your bum has a lovely sexy wiggle to it!" I went down the stairs carefully, once in the kitchen I busied myself making the tea. I glanced out of the window and noticed that it was snowing again. I put the cups onto a tray and then took them through to the back room. The door was closed so I had to carefully balance the tray on one hand and open the door with the other. When I walked in I saw that Auntie Margaret had already cut the pieces from the material. She looked up and smiled at me. "You look just like a proper waitress in that pose Sandy. Though I don't think there can be many waitresses who would be wandering about the place in their lingerie, no matter how pretty they look darling!" I put the tray down and joined her on the long bench in front of the sewing machine. She had pinned the velvet to the satin neatly making slim hems to each, she then showed me how the pieces would fit together. "See? The sleeves will be almost off the shoulder, and the neckline will be what is known as a 'sweetheart'. I'll put some broad elastic at the waist and pleat the skirts so they stick out a little. I see it as a party dress, maybe a cocktail dress, something formal at least." She explained and then began tack stitching the dress together. I watched her intently, making observations here and there which seemed to please her. She explained things as she went and I think he was pleasantly surprised to find that I picked things up quickly. I couldn't believe quite how quickly the whole thing came together. It only felt like a few minutes before she was holding it up for me to look at. "Well, what do you think?" "I think it's great!" I enthused, it certainly looked fantastic and I was sort of jealous to think that someone was going to get to wear a dress that I had at least a part in making. She took it over to a tailor's dummy and carefully draped it onto it. "Do you know much about computers Sandy?" "A bit, we have them at school and I want to have one at home but mum says I'd just stay shut in my room and play games on it." "Come and see this." She led me into the lounge and over into the corner of the room where there was a triangular cabinet fitted into the corner. She opened the doors to reveal a computer system that slid out on a shelf. "Pull up a chair," she said taking the one that was in front of the screen, "this is where I keep my catalogue." She laughed at my puzzled expression. "On the internet, I have a website you see, people can e-mail their requirements to me and I pick and choose which ones I'd enjoy doing. That means the customer gets something that I've taken pleasure in making and they get something they thought of themselves. Of course they can pick from the designs already up on the site, that's why those rails are there. I like to keep some things to hand." The screen filled up with a black background that looked like ruffled silk, and then a title to the page came up. "Grand Designs." This was followed by a list of options and she allowed me to go through them one by one. The full range of her designs was on show, each and everyone looking exquisite. The models were absolutely stunning and I felt myself stirring in response to them. "Have a look in the gallery Sandy, it's where I show actual customers wearing the clothes I've made for them." She left me to look through the pictures, most of Auntie Margaret's customers looked just as beautiful as the models had. One in particular caught my attention and I clicked on her picture. Tall, slim and with long raven black hair cascading over her bare shoulders. The red sheath dress she was wearing was ankle length and slit down from her right thigh. Sparkling red high-heeled sandals peeked out from beneath the hem. The screen blanked out and then filled again with a new page. Not just the picture I'd clicked on but a website proclaiming that it was "Mistress Tamara's Domain." The first line of text that I read shocked me to the core. "Just how much do I love my crossdressed pets?" I shut the page down and clicked back to the on-line catalogue. Why was Auntie Margaret's site linked to someone who seemed to relish cross dressers? I glanced down at what I was wearing and began to tremble. I was still sitting as still and as stiff as a statue when Auntie Margaret came back into the room just as the phone rang. She crossed the room and answered it. "Hello?" "Oh hi Elizabeth," she said, indicating to me that it was mum who was calling. "Yes, Sandy's here, he managed to lock himself out whilst he was clearing the snow. Frozen solid he was so I had to thaw him out." "No, he's been no bother at all. I'll send him round now." She said goodbye and then hung up. "I'd better be going then," I said, even though I'd been shocked at what I had seen on the computer screen I was still reluctant to leave. I went through to the kitchen and collected my clothes, aware that she was watching me from the door. "You can change in my room darling," she said and then left me to it. I stripped off and folded the wrap, the French knickers and the camisole, placing them on the end of the bed. I dressed in my own clothes, so rough after the wonderful softness of the lingerie. I went down the stairs and stood in the hall while Auntie Margaret unfastened the chiffon scarf from my hair. She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she had thoroughly enjoyed my visit and hoped I had too. "Yes Auntie Margaret, very much." My reply was a whisper, was I admitting I'd liked wearing her things or the whole experience of being with her? "It's almost as if I've been visited by a niece of my own," she said, her eyes sparking. The door was opened, the chill of the afternoon trying to overwhelm the warmth of the cottage. I heard the door close behind me and I made my way back on the short walk to home. "So, who's a stupid boy then?" she asked as soon as I got in through the door. "It was just a mistake, it wasn't as if I'd done it on purpose!" I objected. "I told you that you could have come with me round the village. But oh no, you want to mooch about the house instead. See what happens when you won't do what I tell you!" "Oh come on mum! How many sixteen year olds hang around with their mother?" "Not good enough for you am I? I see, just like your father aren't you!" I could see there was either going to be an explosion of anger or she was going to break down in tears. I hoped to avoid either. "No I'm not, I just, I don't know. I don't fit in at school, I don't fit in the village, I just don't feel as if I fit in anywhere." This seemed to calm her down a little; perhaps blaming myself would keep her that way. "I mean, it's my fault that I have to bother you with cutting my hair all the time isn't it? And before that we trailed back and forward to town almost as soon as I got home for the weekend." "Well, that was a bother, expensive as well as being time consuming," she agreed. "So, if I had kind of found a way of avoiding that, it would be a good thing wouldn't it?" "I suppose so, why? What have you thought of?" she asked. "Auntie Margaret, she says she'll do it for me." "Does she indeed? And you think that's a good idea?" "It was kind of a thank you I think, for clearing the snow, sort of," I said lamely. "Hmm, I see, wouldn't it be easier just to shave it all off? You get a lot of teasing over it at school don't you?" "I sort of like having it long, and anyway, it's my last few months at the school isn't it? Come the summer, after my exams I'm finished with the place." "And just what do you expect to do then might I ask?" "Erm, well, it sort of depends on my exam results doesn't it? If I do as well as I hope I might want to go to college if not, I'll just have to find a job," I said, not sure if that was what she wanted to hear. "Both of which would mean you moving away, I can't see you working on one of the farms round here and the nearest college, decent college is even further away." Mum said, though not unkindly. "I guess." "I'll think about it." I went to bed early that night, my head filled with recent memories. I dreamed of the dress Auntie Margaret was working on, perhaps at that very moment. I dreamed vividly of the clothes on the website and in that back room. Most vivid of all was the dream of Mistress Tamara, except that Auntie Margaret had taken Tamara's place. In my dream she'd laid out some lingerie on the bed and asked me, not told me, to wear them for her, to become her niece for the day. I woke to find my cock rigid and vertical beneath the quilt. Mum had left a note telling me that she had gone into the school to get things ready for the school reopening after the weekend. She wouldn't be home until five so she'd left some food in the fridge for me and hoped that I could stay out of trouble. Like I was ever in any trouble, it was all I could do to find something to get into trouble with. I had a bowl of cereal sitting in front of the morning television programmes, which were of no interest to me. I was contemplating what I could do for the day when the phone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, Sandy, it's Auntie Margaret, is your mum there?" "No she's gone into school for the day." "I see, well, what are you up to?" "Nothing much, just watching television." "Would you like to come round?" "Would that be alright? I mean, mum might think..." "Just because you came round to mine two days running? Yesterday was all by accident really wasn't it?" She asked. "I suppose so, still, maybe I should ring her?" "If you like, if you're coming just come straight in, I'm in the back with your dress." I hung up the phone and shivered, the way she had said "your dress" could be taken any number of ways, one of which frightened me a little. I picked up the phone again and dialled the school number, there was an age before she answered it. "Mum?" "Alexander! I've only just got settled and you interrupt me! What's the matter now?" "Can I help Auntie Margaret with something? It's something to do with her computer, she says I might be able to sort something out for her." "Since when have you been a computer whiz kid?" She asked sarcastically before adding resignedly, "Oh I suppose so, just don't get under Margaret's feet like you do mine!" She rang off. I went up to get dressed and then went straight round to Margaret's, remembering the key this time. I took my shoes off and left them in the hall, padding along to the back room in my socks. I knocked on the door and stepped into the room. Auntie Margaret was sitting at the sewing machine running a pile of light blue satin through it, stitching a huge froth of stiff lace to what appeared to be the waistband of what would eventually be a very full skirt. "Hi Sandy, how are you this morning?" She asked brightly. "Okay I guess, glad there's been no more snow." "Want to see your dress?" I glanced at the floor to try and hide my blush, and then nodded. "It's upstairs in the spare room, go up and have a look and I'll join you shortly." She turned back to her sewing and I could hear the machine whirring as I went up the stairs. On entering the spare room, I saw that it was just as lavishly feminine in furnishing and decoration as her room was, though the bed was smaller and wasn't a four-poster. The dress was on a padded hanger on the open door of the wardrobe. I glanced inside and saw that there was some soft black lingerie on another hanger on the wardrobe rail, while a pair of high-heeled open toed sandals stood in the bottom. I reached out a tentative hand, my fingers reaching for the flared hem of the skirt. Touching the soft velvet on the outside and the smooth sheer red silk of the lining. I noted how the waist seemed to be pinched, drawn narrower due to a broad band of elastic. The bodice was lower cut than I had expected and the half shoulders formed a low rounded neckline. "So Sandy, what do you think of your dress?" "It's beautiful!" I breathed, "I didn't expect it to turn out like it did." "I'm going to send it down to London for the studio to do the shots for the website. The lingerie will go with it, and the shoes. I've a suspicion that it might be a very popular line." "It should be, it's stunning, will you let me see the pictures once they go up on the Internet? I'd love to see one of the models wearing it." "Sure I will, it's as much your creation as mine." I smiled at that, "I was worried that when you kept saying it was my dress, you meant, well, that it was a dress for me." "I don't see... Oh, yes I do, you thought the dress was for you?" I went bright red at having divulged what I was really thinking, she knew it and I knew it. "There's no need to be embarrassed Sandy, I'm not going to tell anyone. If you thought I expected you to wear it, I'm not upset. Actually, I think it would really look cute on you, after all, you looked lovely wrapped in the black velvet yesterday." "Mum says it's okay for you to cut my hair." I said, trying to change the subject. "Great, I've been thinking about that, I don't know what shampoo you are using but I think your hair could do with something that doesn't dry it out so much. I've put a bottle of shampoo and another of conditioner to one side for you, the same as I used yesterday." "Who will you chose to model the dress?" I asked, glancing back to the hanger. "The studio will decide from their books, I let them decide, I guess they'll chose a blonde though, and obviously she'll have to have similar measurements to you. Otherwise it wouldn't look right." "My measurements? I thought you were going to change the size?" I asked. "I mean, there can't be many girls the same size and shape as me." "You'd be surprised, you aren't hugely built, I don't mean to be unkind but you do have a rather girlish figure, but for your chest and that lump you get in your pants." My face reddened even further. "Come to think of it, with a bit of padding and some make up you could probably model the dress yourself," she said, then left me staring at the dress. I followed her downstairs a few minutes later finding her in front of the computer. The introduction to her online catalogue was on the screen. "I've decided to pick the model myself, I've used her before, or rather the studio has. Now, where is she, aha!" A picture began to fill the screen, a blue eyed blonde with long legs appeared. Wearing a powder blue tailored jacket and skirt, sort of power dressing with a hint of sexiness to her. "Here she is, her name's Leslie, what do you think, she's pretty don't you think?" "Very," I agreed, "I can just see the dress on me, I mean her!" "Sandy?" "Sorry, I... I got mixed up for a minute, of course I meant her, Leslie." "Okay, I believe you darling, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone what I thought you said." "Thanks, I mean, it would be pretty weird wouldn't it? Me wearing a dress like that." My voice had gone into a low whisper and I don't think I knew exactly what I was saying. "Weird? Well, if you say so, I can't see the problem with it myself. Then again, who am I to say what is right what is wrong and what is, weird." "You wouldn't think I was weird if I wanted to wear the dress?" I asked, despite my rising panic. "Of course not silly, after yesterday and seeing you with your hair done and dressed in the lingerie I was half wishing I'd asked if you'd put the first dress on, just to see how it moved. Not to worry though, the studio will work out all of the finer details." "So they might change the design?" "Maybe, if the fit might not be as good as I hope it will be. They might have to change it a bit." "But then it wouldn't be your design, someone else would have had to finish it off." I pointed out. "True, but that can't be helped can it?" She pulled up another picture, this one showing Leslie in a full- length ball gown of crimson satin. She certainly was breath taking, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in a long river of golden blonde ringlets. "So, any more inspirational designs in that head of yours Sandy?" "Er, no, not really, I guess that if they get altered then, well, they wouldn't be my ideas anymore would they?" "I suppose not Sandy, not technically, but again it can't be helped, can it? The model is in London and the dress wouldn't fit me would it?" "No but it would fit me." It sounded so simple once I'd said it. "But you've said it would be weird, if you were to dress as a girl." "I guess so." "So don't worry about it hon. It will be our dress as far as anyone else knows anyway." "Not to me though, it wouldn't be the same at all." "Do you want to try the dress Sandy?" "Yes!" It was more a whimper than a whisper. "Yes please Auntie Margaret!" "Come along then darling, take your boys things off and leave them here, then we'll go up and turn you into my beautiful niece." She stood up in one graceful movement and held out a perfectly manicured nail. Her hands reached for the hem of my sweater and slowly eased it over my head. She then stepped back and watched me undress until I stood naked before her, my penis sticking up vertical against my stomach. She smiled and told me she loved seeing me so turned on by her, then she moved round me, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs to her bedroom where she stood me in the middle of the floor. She fetched the dress, the black lingerie and the heeled sandals from the spare room and told me to close my eyes. She began to dress me in the lingerie, first the panties, which were deliciously soft against my legs, as they rose and hugged my waist tightly and snugly. "Think about how much you love them, how turned on they make you but don't think about your hard on darling." I tried to do as she suggested and was rather surprised that my erection subsided. I was still incredibly aroused but other than my shortened soft breaths you could never have known. I felt a bra being fitted round my waist, the cups being filled with something, though I didn't feel any shoulder straps. I thought about the dress and realised that the shoulder straps would be on show, ruining the look of the dress. She raised my hands to the cups, my fingers tracing their jutting shape and the weight, which I guessed was fairly natural. I say guessed, as I'd never felt a pair of breasts before. I felt something looping round my waist and then followed her instructions and raising a foot in the air sitting back on the bed. I could suddenly smell the pungent aroma of nail varnish as Auntie Margaret began painting my toenails, first my right foot and then my left. After a first coat she turned her attention to my fingernails. By the time she had finished working on my fingers the first coat on my toenails had dried so she applied a second coat to them and then returned to my fingers. While these dried, she began to work on my face having tied my hair back into a ponytail. She worked in silence whilst I could only imagine what she was doing. I felt incredibly vulnerable, excited as well but feeling that what I had asked to have done to me, and thinking that what was being done to me was very wrong. I began to feel a little guilty but couldn't find my voice and ask her to stop. A cream was gently applied to my face with a damp sponge. The soft sponge worked back and forth across my eyelids before I felt the tug on my eyelashes that could only be from the action of a mascara brush. My lashes actually seemed to feel heavier, when I felt her gently painting my lips I knew that my transformation from pretend nephew to pretend niece was all but confirmed. There was little doubt now that I wouldn't ask Auntie Margaret to stop, even had I wished her to. I sensed her ease away from me and the luxurious caress of the most sheer soft stockings began to stroke along my legs to my thighs where they were clipped to the taut suspenders that lay against my thigh and over my buttocks. We shared a laugh when she twanged them against my thigh, my laughter nervous then breathless when her fingers trailed over the front of the panties. I gasped at her intimate touch though and was surprised that I didn't feel my erection swelling. "Good girl Sandra, you like Sandra as a name for my niece?" I found myself nodding. "Then Sandra you shall be darling and very beautiful you will be." The touch of her hands and fingers against my skin was so wonderful that I had to hold my breath to save from crying out in pleasure. She slipped the high-heeled sandals onto my stocking feet and fastened the two ankle straps and then told me to stand up. The heels were much higher than the heeled slippers I'd worn the day before. Such was their effect on my leg muscles that I shivered in delight. They forced me to adjust my stance and poise so much more than the slippers had. "Alright darling, nearly finished now, step with your left foot, and now your right." I felt the silk slipping up my body, softly and slowly Auntie Margaret allowed me to experience the sheer material stroking me until it rested at my waist. Then I felt my arms being fitted into the short sleeves and then the bodice possessed me, the rear zip climbing from the small of my back up to the neckline. The elastic constricting almost as if I were being held tightly in someone's arms. She fussed over my hair, slipping slides into it to hold it back from my face above my ears. Something fitted tightly round my throat and then necklaces were looped round my neck, earrings clipped to my ears, bracelets and finally a ladies gold watch. "Okay, you can open your eyes." I had my back to the wardrobe mirror so I couldn't see what I looked like, Auntie Margaret stood to one side, lifting something from a drawer. I turned to see what she was doing and was caught by the flash from a digital camera. I turned to look at myself, knowing that what I was seeing was me and gasped in delight. If I say so myself I looked perfect. The dress looked stunning, as did the high heels. My face was totally feminised, a pretty blonde haired girl with full, pouting, luscious red glossed lips smiled back at me. The light shone on my fingernails, also glossy red. My eyes were coloured with shades of dusky colour, the hint of bronze and gold. I looked like a young debutante and took a step forward, hearing the whisper of the silk against the sheer stockings as the camera flashed again. I posed again and again to Auntie Margaret's instructions, draped on the bed, leaning provocatively against the bedposts, on and on until she was happy with the selection of shots she had. "Now a girl can't stay in her cocktail dress all day can she? Choose something from the wardrobe while I download the images then come down to the lounge." On her way out she paused at the door and turned to me, "You make a very beautiful niece Sandra, I want to see much more of you." I reluctantly stepped out of the dress, posing in front of the wardrobe mirrors first for a while to drink it all in. I chose a knee length black skirt from the wardrobe and a white turtle neck sweater in jersey. I worried that the clothes I'd chosen wouldn't work with the look Auntie Margaret had given me but was thrilled when I saw that I looked just as convincing, not as sexy, softer, more girlish and not quite as old. Walking down to the lounge was a thrilling experience, the heels making me move, or try to move, more gracefully. I began trying to make all my movements and gestures softer, less demonstrative; in short I began to act as I thought Sandra might. Auntie Margaret seemed so thrilled with who I had become that I wanted to show her how complete my transformation could be. Their was an inner excitement that was taking over my emotions that when she swept me into her arms and kissed me gently on the lips I tilted my head back, just as I'd seen the girls at school do at the dances. I submitted to the kiss and responded. Her hands were all over me and I in turn clung to her, afraid that she would push me away if I dared to move my hands from her hips. Eventually she eased me away from her and led me over to the computer. I saw all the images she'd downloaded from the camera and knew that anyone who knew me would never suspect that Sandra and I were one and the same. Auntie Margaret guided me onto her lap and kissed me again, a hand slipped beneath the hem of my skirt and began stroking me through the panties. "It's alright Sandra, I've wanted to make you cum since I first saw your lovely little clit. Cum for me now darling, cum for me in your lovely panties, make love to them and give yourself to them. Then you can give yourself to me. You are mine after all and once you've learned how perfect it is to be a girl, you'll never want to be Sandy, or Alex, or Alexander ever again." And of course Margaret was right and I never have.