Jake and Gill
- 2 years ago
- 24
- 0
Summer With Miss Gill free porn video
I stood with my mother in the doorway of Miss Gill's house. Miss Gill had
become a close friend of mums ever since we had hit hard times. Mum had
been cleaning for her three times a week, and waitressing in a small
restaurant on the remaining days of the week. The strain of trying to
feed us both, clothe us and keep a roof over our head, all on the
pittance she earned, was showing on her face.
Mum rested her hand on my shoulder as the door opened.
"Hello Karen, sorry we're late. We have just been for a walk in the
park," said mum as she gently pushed me into the hall.
Mum leaned towards Miss Gill and whispered, "I just wanted to explain the
situation properly to Ricky."
"I understand entirely," said Miss Gill and she and my mother began to
talk about the details of my stay. Earlier in the park, Mum had tried to
explain why she had to go away, how she couldn't cope since Dad had gone,
and as soon as she had got work she would send for me.
We were late to Miss Gill's because I had cried for so long, and as I
looked around at the plain d?cor of Miss Gill's house, my eyes stung and
my head spun.
After a while Mum came and found me, as I had wandered off into the
lounge. "Ricky, you know this is just for a short while."
I dropped my head down onto my chest. "Don't leave me here Mum," I
sobbed.
"Do you want to go and stay at your Aunt Joan's instead?"
"Oh no way! You know I can't stand her. I just want to stay with you." As
the words came out of my mouth, I looked up to see Miss Gill standing in
the doorway. It was the first time I had really looked at her appearance.
She had what seemed a pleasant smiling face, framed by her immaculately
cut straight hair. Her clothes were clean, plain, and crisply pressed.
She wore pale tights and her shoes were highly polished.
Mum noticed my distraction by her presence, kissed me and said goodbye in
a moment and was at once in the doorway with Miss Gill. The two women
whispered something between them, Mother looked at me as a came into the
hall, turned and slipped away as the door shut behind her.
My head began to race; I didn't understand how I had come to be standing
here in this strange house. Where was my mum, and who is this woman
standing in front of me?
I made a dash for the door, grabbed the handle and began to tug at the
door.
"You live here now, your mother has gone. Leave the door alone child,"
said Miss Gill in a slow but cold tone.
"Fuck off, you don't tell me what to do." The words came firing out of me
like venom from a snake.
"Leave the door alone! I have locked it, so stop trying to force it." Her
voice raised to the height of mine.
I began to kick the door, and then I turned, and slid my back down the
door. I came to rest sitting on my bum, with my legs pulled tight into my
chest. Burying my head into my knees, I began to sob, periodically
calling for my mum.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on the floor. It was dark.
How long had I slept? The house was quiet. I stood up and walked into the
lounge, which was empty. Was that a voice I heard? I walked deeper into
the house towards the light. It was the Kitchen, and sitting at the far
end around a round table were Miss Gill and the woman I considered to be
my archenemy, Aunt Joan.
Both women sat in silence. I moved to the centre of the room, and stood
with both hands in pockets.
"Where's my room?" I demanded.
Miss Gill continued to stare at me in silence. Aunt Joan took a sip of
her tea, placed the cup back on its saucer and stood up. Turning towards
Miss Gill, and at the same time stooping to pickup her bag, she snapped,
"Well you know what I think Karen."
Stepping to one side, Aunt Joan pushed her chair back under the table and
walked towards me. When she got close, she stopped and slowly looked me
up and down. Turning to Miss Gill she said "it is the only way you know."
With that, she brushed past me and out the door.
For the second time that day I was alone in the house with Miss Gill.
"Well Richard, what shall we do with you?"
"I don't give a shit," I replied.
A silence returned to the room.
"Very well, let's show you your room." She led me up the stairs, pausing
to show me the bathroom, before turning into a pale pink room with a
singe bed and an embroidered bedspread.
"Is this the best you've got?" was my reaction as I entered the room.
I received no reply, and the door was shut quickly behind me as Miss Gill
left the room.
I awoke to the sun shining in through the sash window to the side of the
bed. I slid out of bed and wandered around the room looking for my
clothes. They had gone, and been replaced with a white bathrobe. As I had
little choice, I slid my arms into it, tied it around my waist and
wandered down the stairs. One reaching the foot of the stairs, I stared
at the front door. The thought entered my head that it might be worth
another attempt at escape. Again I pulled at the handle, but again it was
locked. I walked into the lounge.
As I entered, my arm was grabbed and I was pulled down into a chair. It
was the devil herself, Aunt Joan. Her accomplice, Miss Gill sat down
beside me.
"We can't go on like this Richard, can we?"
"Bloody right we can't."
Ignoring my reply, she continued, "Your Aunt and I have decided to give
you a chance to reform your character."
"She has no say over me! Mum said that I..."
"NUMBER ONE. You will stop all arguing and swearing." Her words cut me
off abruptly.
"Punishment for non conformance of this demand - is washing out of the
mouth with carbolic soap!"
My response was simple.
"Bollocks."
Now I thought I was fairly strong for a twelve-year-old, but Aunt Joan
had me in an arm lock and heading for the bathroom before I could do
anything. I could only watch as Miss Gill took out a fresh bar of soap,
and rubbed it into a lather. Then she took my toothbrush and dragged it
over the surface of the bar.
"Open up child," was her demand. A skilful blip of my wrist by Aunt Joan
was all that was necessary to get me to open up enough to pop the brush
between my teeth. The brush was moved over all of my mouth and whenever I
tried to bite on it, more pressure was applied to my wrist.
They left me to try and remove the foul taste of the soap from my teeth,
telling me to have a bath and wash my hair, and return to the lounge in
no more than thirty minutes. I did as I was told, and meekly returned to
their den in the allotted time.
"Sit," Miss Gill commanded. Once more I conformed to their instructions.
"Last night you demonstrated all the qualities that your Aunt had warned
me about. You were discourteous, foul mouthed and violent. Well I just
won't stand for it."
I was close to launching into a verbal retaliation, but the soap still
coated my mouth as a reminder to watch my words. Looking at the two of
them seated next to one another, I began to see the resemblance. Both
were meticulous in their dress, both wore their hair straight and sharply
cut, and both had an air of snobbery. I once had a run in with my Aunt
when she came to visit mum. She hated the way I ran around all summer
with no shoes on. She disliked me kicking my football against the outside
of the house. Above all though, she disliked my hair. Thinking back,
perhaps it was the wildness of it compared to her immaculate style. Maybe
because it was the 70's, and I was a hippie child.
"From your behaviour, you have left us little choice. Your Aunt and
myself have decided to implement some changes, which at first you may
find slightly confusing. With time, these changes will help you deal with
your uncontrolled emotions and add structure to your stay with us."
As the words flowed out of her, I could feel the tears welling up inside
me.
"What changes, I.....I don't want..." My head began to spin once more.
All I could think about was the words 'changes' and 'confusing'.
Aunt Joan reached over and placed her index finger over my lips to stop
my protest.
"Small changes, only small changes, to begin with at least and then the
rest will depend on your behaviour," Aunt Joan added, as she looked deep
into my fearful eyes. She then turned to Miss Gill. "Would you mind
fetching the tape rule from the mantle, and the pen and pad?"
This she handed to Aunt Joan. "Stand up Richard," commanded Aunt Joan.
I stood, and the women proceeded to measure me all over. Miss Gill noted
down the numbers as Aunt Joan called out a series of measurements. When
the task was completed, she asked me for my shoe size. "I don't know,"
was my reply.
"Very well, we will have to take you to the shop to be fitted," Aunt Joan
hissed.
There was a knock at the door. Miss Gill looked at Aunt Joan. "That will
be Julie, do you want me to stop and help?"
"No, no, I'm sure we will be fine. You're not going to cause any more
fuss, are you Richard?"
My head dropped to my chest in defeat.
Julie entered the room struggling to carry two small cases. "Where do you
want me to work Karen?"
"I think the kitchen will be best, please come through and I will show
you the problem."
Mrs Gill walked the elegant looking Julie through the house, calling for
me to follow.
"Let's have a look. Oh yeah, there's plenty of volume," said Julie as she
lifted my hair, with a manner not un-similar to the 'nit' lady who used
to come to our school. Miss Gill pulled out a high stool from under the
breakfast bar, led me over and sat me on it. Julie rummaged about in one
of her cases and then pulled out a pink shinny cloth. She walked behind
me and swirled the cloth around me. It became immediately obvious it was
a hairdresser's cape, and that Julie was the hairdresser!
"I don't want a haircut," I shouted and began to slide off the stool.
"Get back on there...Now," Miss Gill shouted, and fixed me with a cold
stare. I stopped and pulled myself back onto the stool.
"Julie has been good enough to come here today at very short notice. Now
get this into your head. If you try and move, fidget or even speak....
There will be trouble."
I wasn't particularly worried about the look of my hair, but I liked the
70's wild feel to it. It was longish, slightly wavy and swept back in a
kind of George Best (the Manchester footballer) style.
Julie began to comb my hair, dipping the comb into a jug of water to wet
the hair. As she worked, she brushed my hair down from my crown. "Do you
like having hair like a girl?"
Her comment made me sit up with a bolt, but seeing Miss Gill looking at
me, I kept quiet.
Julie made no further comment to me, and instead concentrated on what she
was doing.
She laid out her tools on the table. There were long thin scissors,
special scissors with combs in them, clips, spray bottles, lotions and
more combs.
Julie clipped my hair up at the back, leaving a small amount trailing
down. She then picked up a pair of scissors, and combing the hair down,
she began to snip away.
She asked Miss Gill if it was short enough. Miss Gill walked round me,
thought for a moment. "When it's dried, I would like it to finish this
high at the back." I couldn't see where she was pointing, but Julie
immediately began cutting more hair away. "That's better," said Miss
Gill.
Julie continued letting more hair out of the clips, combing it down and
then cutting a line. When all the clips were removed, she began combing
the sides down from the middle of my head. Then she combed the front
down. Picking up her scissors again, she cut from just in front of my
left ear right around to right ear. As she cut, the curtain of hair in
front of my eyes fell away. Miss Gill smiled at me. I could feel my face
begin to burn with embarrassment. In my mind, I pictured a short back and
sides haircut, the sort a real goody goodie would have.
Just then the front door closed, and in marched Aunt Joan. She
immediately burst out laughing. "Well, who's this pretty little girl?"
That was the last straw. In an instant, I was out of the chair and
heading for the bathroom.
When I looked in the mirror, I was almost sick. Julie had given me a
haircut that was a shorter version of Aunt Joan's, the type of style Mum
used to call a bob.
"You bloody cow," I shouted. My hair now resembled a helmet, with a
fringe just above my eyes. I pushed my fingers through the fringe,
pushing the hair back. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of
Aunt Joan on the landing heading my way. I grabbed the door and swung it
closed, but it stopped just before closing and was pushed back in my
face. Once again she had a hold on me, this time marching me into the
bedroom. Holding me face down on the bed, she lifted my dressing gown and
gave me three sharp slaps across my bum.
"Hold still child, you were warned." Both women joined in holding me
down, and sliding some pants over my legs. Then they stood me up, and
pulled the pants up. My bum was really stinging now, and I looked down
see that they had placed girl's yellow knickers on me.
I wanted to scream, I wanted to run out the room, but instead I was
frozen to the spot.
"This is what you get when you're disobedient," heckled Aunt Joan.
"Sit down Ricky," said Miss Gill in a quiet voice.
Aunt Joan went to the wardrobe and took out some clothes and laid them on
the bed besides me. There was a white shirt with a flat rounded collar,
and a pair of yellow dungarees with short legs, which I think are called
pedal pushers.
As I stared at them, I could feel my eyes widening and my jaw drop.
"No way, no way," I protested.
"You can either accept these clothes, or well put you in a dress" heckled
Aunt Joan as she slipped my arms out of the dressing gown and into the
shirt. Her nimble fingers quickly fastened the domed shaped pearly
buttons. Miss Gill placed my feet into the pedal pushers and pulled them
up my legs. I stood as she placed the braces over my shoulders and
fastened them to the bib flap in the front.
By now the tears were rolling down my burning cheeks, as I watched them
snap shut the poppers on the inside of my knees.
I tried to resist as Aunt Joan took me by the hand and lead me back
downstairs.
When we entered the kitchen, Julie the hairdresser looked me up and down,
and said
"Quite a difference, let's hope your behaviour also improves."
She walked me over to the stool where she had cut my hair.
Looking down, I could see the girlie yellow pedal pushers, and my bare
calves and feet. I was standing in the cuttings of my own hair, which
made me think again of the stupid haircut I had received. Again I sat on
the stool and had the cape secured around my neck.
Aunt Joan slowly walked around the room studying my appearance and then
walked up and stood directly in front of me. Bending down with her hands
on her knees, her head only two feet from mine, her eyes scanned my
haircut.
"You've done a good job Julie, but I'm afraid it doesn't quite suit his
behaviour. I think something a little more childish might be better."
My heart was racing faster than ever and my face burning with the
embarrassment of her words.
Julie came round and stood beside her.
"We could go for a shorter fringe, like we give to the little girls," was
Julie's reply.
"What an excellent idea," said Aunt Joan looking deep into my eyes.
"Just like the little girls!"
I squirmed under the pink plastic cape as Julie combed my hair flat
against my forehead. The coldness of the blades made me jump as they
slowly tracked around my head and more hair rained down. Again Julie
combed the hair down.
"It will get shorter as it dries," said Julie merrily to Aunt Joan.
Aunt Joan stood back and crossed her arms and a broad smile came across
her face. A whirling sound started up as Julie switched on her hairdryer
and then picking up a round brush and began to curl the ends of my hair
under as she dried it. Occasionally Julie would change to a fine comb and
carefully comb the back of my hair down from my crown. Then she turned
her attention to my freshly cut fringe, brushing it down and under. I was
horrified at what she was doing, and as I looked at Aunt Joan I could
tell she was really enjoying watching me squirm.
Finally she switched off the drier, again combed my fringe and then
turned the comb on is side and used it to pat the fringe higher and into
a straighter line across the middle of my forehead. Then she sprayed hair
lacquer all over my newly bobbed head.
Julie brushed the cuttings from my neck and face with a soft brush and
whisked the cape off me. I was left sitting on the stool and looking down
at the lemon pedal pushers and contemplating the humiliation that I felt.
"Come into the hall and look in the mirror at your new self," laughed
Aunt Joan
I walked into the hall and turned to look.
I almost fainted as I stared at the shiny little-girl haircut I had been
given. The back and sides were curled under in line with the bottom of my
ears and had a fringe that ran straight across the middle of my forehead.
It was also perfectly straight and neatly turned under.
I turned to see Miss Gill enter the hall.
"Oh dear, I hope we haven't gone too far!"
"Nonsense Karen, if he acts like a spoiled little girl, he can jolly well
look like one," replied Aunt Joan.
I couldn't take it any more and shouted, "You cow! You've made me look
ridicules. How can I ever again go outside like this?"
"Well as you use language like that, you will soon find out," retorted
Aunt Joan.
Miss Gill produced my shoes and tossed them at my feet. At last, some of
my old clothes back. Perhaps this may be the way back to normality. I
pulled out the socks from each shoe, which I had stuffed in them the
night before when undressing, and pulled them over my feet. I tied the
thick laces of each shoe and stood and stared down at them. They looked
huge without trousers, which made me return my thoughts to the rest of my
attire.
The front door was swung open and Aunt Joan had me by the arm and outside
before I knew what was happening. I turned to see Miss Gill closing the
door and walking with us down the front path. I was outside in full view
of the world, dressed like a girl of seven and with a haircut to match. I
was finally through the door that I had tried to open and now I just
wanted to be back behind it. A car door opened, and I gladly jumped
inside.
I sat as low as possible, trying not to be seen by the world outside.
Aunt Joan sat beside me and Miss Gill was in the front driving.
Finally the car stopped and Miss Gill got out and opened my door.
"Oh please Miss Gill, don't make me get out dressed like this," I
pleaded.
"Come along, you can't go around dressed like that," said Aunt Joan from
behind me. I continued to refuse until Aunt Joan leaned over and
whispered
"If you continue to misbehave, perhaps you would like to see how you look
with pierced ears and perhaps some nicely plucked eyebrows."
I quickly got out of the car and Aunt Joan took my hand and we headed
into the small Clarks shoe shop that we had parked opposite.
Inside the shop it was warm and bright, and as I looked around I noticed
a mild leather smell.
I was taken to the left side and we sat down on long padded bench seat.
It was then I realised we were on the girls side of the shop and was
surrounded with ladies and girls shoes. Aunt Joan stood up and walked
down the shop and spoke to an Assistant. Miss Gill knelt down in front of
me and took off my shoes and socks. I just watched in stunned silence and
then looked up to see Aunt Joan and the assistant standing in front of
us.
Miss Gill sat back down beside me and the Assistant dragged a contraption
over in front of me. She then knelt down and placed my right foot into
the machine and moved a series of slides up against the sides of my foot,
one up to my heal and one down against my toes. She then repeated the
process with my left foot. When she had finished, she stood up and walked
over to Aunt Joan, who was browsing at the racks of shoes. Aunt Joan
pointed at a shoe and had a brief conversation with the assistant, and
then came and sat beside me. When the assistant returned, she had a
shoebox and a pair of white socks.
She once again knelt down and picked up my foot and skilfully slipped the
socks onto my feet. The socks were thin and only covered up to my ankle.
Then she opened up the shoebox and placed one of the shoes on the fitting
ramp in front of me. My heart almost stopped. The shoe was a ginger tan
coloured leather sandal with petal shapes cut out of the top and a T-bar
strap across the top. They had a square heal of about 1 ?" high, which
wasn't unusual for a boys shoe at that time. What was shocking was the
shoe was so little girl feminine. It was a style that many of the girls
were starting to wear as the fashion turned from the seventies platform
soles to a more traditional style. Boys had shorter hair and the girls in
school were wearing flowery dresses and T-bar sandals.
I turned to Miss Gill who just smiled. I then turned to Aunt Joan. Her
face was filled with pleasure as she raised an eyebrow that said, 'go on,
defy me, I dare you.'
My foot hovered above the sandal but would go no further. A hand appeared
on my knee. It was the hand of Aunt Joan and it applied a pressure that
moved my foot downwards and towards the shoe. I squirmed as my toes
entered, followed by my heal. The air could be heard escaping as my heal
slid into the void. The assistant then did up the small silver buckle.
She then removed her hands and sat back as if to see the finished result.
Again I was horrified at how slender the heal and how feminine they
looked, especially now the flower petal design had the whiteness of the
socks to highlight them.
In an instant I snatched my foot back and tried to tuck it up out of
sight under the seat. Fitting the second sandal was just as mortifying.
My face was now burning with humiliation as I now tucked both feet under
the seat. After Aunt Joan had paid, I stood up and walked for the first
time in my new girlie shoes. Even though I couldn't bear to look down at
them, there was a distinct click as the slim leather soles made contact
with the linoleum at the front of the shop. We stopped in the entrance to
the shop whilst Aunt Joan combed my hair, paying particular attention to
my sissy fringe. Then she turned the comb on its side and patted the
fringe higher and straighter, just as Julie the hairdresser had.
She then leaned her face down towards mine and said, "Is my new little
niece going to behave them self now?"
I hung my head down looking at my bare calves, little white socks and
girlie sandals, and whispered, "Yes Aunt."
Mother came back at the end of the year and we moved to the seaside in
Southwest Dorset. I never saw Miss Gill again, although Auntie - as Aunt
Joan became known to me that summer, used to pop down to see us now and
then.
Mum was amazed at how polite and courteous I had become.
Twenty-five years on, I sit and stare at the man in the mirror. The
physical signs of that time have long since gone, except that is, for a
small dot on either ear lobe.
Wynona
- 12.06.2022
- 14
- 0
