Steven s Adventure With Mrs Remington Chapter 2
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Steven's Adventure With Mrs. Remington free porn video
I've written a fetish story or two before but very much as an amateur.
This is my first attempt at writing a story with a TV theme, so please,
be kind. I do have plans for a second chapter at least.
A Backstory
When I failed High School I wasn't exactly surprised. Being in and out of
Hospital throughout your teenage years tends to have a lousy effect on
your grades. Sure, maybe I'd used being ill as an excuse to slack off a
bit and even milked it for sympathy at times but I really had been at
risk of dying. I could even tell you all about hospitals and the wonders
of modern medicine. I could tell you about how being ill robbed me of my
teenage years. That stuff is all boring though and not what this story is
about. This story is about something more exciting....
Once I got the all clear from the doctors my parents had only one thing
on their minds: my education. There were all sorts of online courses to
help with getting a GED but I'd spent years missing out on life and
didn't feel like wasting another minute stuck at home in my room with a
keyboard. They did offer classes to pass the GED at the local community
college. Having basically bankrupted themselves taking care of me while I
was ill my parents were in no position to pay the tuition and it wasn't
like I had savings of my own. Besides, the whole town knew me, most of
them had chipped in to cover hospital bills the insurance wouldn't pay
and in their eyes I'd never be anything more than "the sick kid", someone
to be pitied not just another 19 year old guy out looking to have fun. As
such I was stuck with two choices, neither of which appealed.
That was when the miracle happened. At least what I'd thought of at the
time as a miracle. During my last check-in appointment before being
discharged Dr. Wheeler made a suggestion. Apparently, Dr. Wheeler just
got back from a visit with an old University friend in England and had
been telling her all about me and my educational dilemma. That friend had
made a suggestion, namely that I should come and stay with her in
England. Apparently, she felt bad for me, having missed out on being a
teenager due to my illness and thought I should have a little adventure
in my life now that I was better. In all honesty I didn't think much was
going to come of it. England was a long way away and this woman was a
total stranger, no matter how close she had been to my doctor over the
years. Even so, when I got home I called her up on the telephone and
found out the details.
Her name was Mrs. Charlotte Remington and she had recently divorced her
husband of over 20 years. Apparently, I could go and stay with her rent
free in return for doing some chores. Best of all, she wasn't just a
teacher, she was a headmistress. She'd give me what tutoring I needed
over the summer and during the weekends, while I'd be free to explore
England and even earn a little spending money during my free time. I
wasn't stupid though, I didn't just jet off to England without doing my
homework. I spoke to Mrs. Remington for several hours on the phone and
checked out her Facebook page, got Dr. Wheeler to vouch for her. I even
got in touch with a community group she was involved in and asked about
her, pretending I was a journalist writing an article. As far as the
wider world was concerned Mrs. Remington was just another boring middle-
aged divorcee. The world was wrong though, Mrs. Remington was far from
boring....
I'd have been crazy not to take the opportunity. So, I did, I packed my
bags, used my savings to buy a plane ticket and went off to England.
On Arrival
Suffice to say my journey to England hadn't gone quite like I'd hoped.
First the plane was delayed, then the airline lost my luggage and to top
it all off it was raining heavily when I arrived. According to the taxi
driver all three things were to be expected, the first two from 'the
damned incompetent airlines', last one merely 'typical of a british
summer'. Given how tired I felt I wasn't about to question his wisdom.
The hour-long drive into the English countryside however was fascinating,
like a whole new world. The village of Little Wallop was picturesque when
we drove through it and when we arrived at Mrs. Remington's house on the
outskirts of the village I nearly gasped. By my standards it looked huge,
4 bedrooms at least, made of stone with ivy covering the whole of one
side of the building and a large lawn. Surrounded by lush hedges it was
clearly the kind of place you could live quite happily without seeing the
neighbours for weeks on end. As the taxi spread off, abandoning me in the
rain I felt out of my depth. With determination however, I marched up the
drive and rang the doorbell, waiting patiently as I got drenched.
What greeted me was not what I had expected. Mrs. Remington's Facebook
page had been coy with pictures of her, photos always taken from a
distance or at angles so that her face wasn't visible. When questioned
she had put this down to the pressures of working for a school, her
Facebook needing to be discreet. I had simply assumed she was a plain
looking woman, perhaps a little overweight and thus shy. I couldn't have
been more wrong.
Mrs. Remington was gorgeous. I'd guess her to be in her late 40's based
on what I knew of her life, yet her face looked a decade younger and her
figure would give women in their twenties pause. Her long legs in a tight
pair of jeans, her breasts filling out a plain white t-shirt that was
tucked into her slim waist. With dark brown hair and fairly pale skin she
had on what seemed like minimal makeup as she smiled at me and took me
into her arms, pulling me into a hug in the doorway.
"Steven! You are here at last! Come in out of the rain! Where are your
bags?" she gushed, her voice posh, like something out of a movie.
I blushed as she released me, the feeling of her breasts pressing against
my body giving me a stirring in my loins despite my tired body. "The
airline lost my luggage. They promise they'll find it and deliver it in
the next few days. I'm stuck with what I'm wearing for now."
I felt her arm around my shoulder as she guided me inside. "Darling, you
are soaking. You need to dry out or you'll catch a chill. What good would
it be if I had to send a message to Dr. Wheeler saying you had gotten ill
on your first day?"
"Yes. Mrs. Remington. Or do you prefer Charlotte," I mumbled as I slipped
off my shoes.
As she lead me up the lushly carpeted stairs to the bathroom I snuck a
peek in the rooms we passed. The d?cor was old and tasteful, a mixture of
what my untrained eye would say was 1950's furniture mixed in with much
older pictures and antiques.
"I think we'd better stick with Mrs. Remington for now Steven. Maybe once
I get to know you better I'll let you call me by my first name," she
cooed in my ear turning on the lights to the bathroom and stepping inside
with me, "Now then Steven, lets get those wet clothes off you."
I stared at her in amazement. She wasn't that much taller than me, only
two or three inches, 5'8 to my 5'6 but it felt like she was towering over
me, the way her arms were crossed in expectation a smirk on her face as
she watched me.
"Aren't you going to give me some privacy?" I asked politely.
She chuckled. "Don't be silly young man. You haven't got anything that I
haven't seen before and I'm old enough to be your mother, I have no
interest in what you've got between your legs."
I blushed thoroughly and she didn't let me waste time arguing, instead
tucking her hands into my t-shirt and pulling it off over my head. In all
fairness I was dripping onto the tiled floor and even shivering, despite
the heating being on this late in the year. Even so it wasn't great for
my ego, to have an attractive woman stripping me as if I was just a boy
instead of the 19-year-old red blooded man I am. When she took off my
jeans she seemed particularly interested in my belt and if in that moment
I had known why, I would have run a mile. Left with only my best pair of
baggy boxers to go she swooped in and lowered them for me grinning as she
did so.
"You see Steven, that wasn't so hard," she said while examining my penis,
"it's not like there is much of you down there to hide anyway sweetie."
I cringed. I have an average sized penis, I swear. I asked Doctor Wheeler
once and everything. The matter of fact way she said it though deflated
my confidence. Well that and it deflated my cock too. It's not like I was
in the practice of being naked in front of women I'd just met so I'd gone
to half mast in anticipation. As I shivered before her I looked down at
the floor, unable to meet her gaze which had now switched to my face.
Before I knew what she was doing she had gathered up my wet clothes and
left the room. "I'll be right back. You wait here Steven while I put
these up to dry and find you something to wear."
The only towel available was one for drying hands, worthless to me, so I
stood there with my arms wrapped around myself, dripping onto the floor.
In my head it felt like forever she was gone. In reality it was only 5
minutes. I just wish it had been forever because then I'd never have to
have experienced what she came back with.
"I'm sorry Steven. I don't really have any men's clothes in the house, I
threw out all my husbands when he left. I had a quick dig around through
some drawers and I found some things I hope might fit you," she said as
if the things she laid out on the bathroom counter were completely
normal.
First came a pair of white cotton panties covered in cartoon flowers.
When she held them up for my inspection I nearly fainted in shock. She
couldn't actually expect me to wear them.
Mrs. Remington smiled at me. "Come now Steven, don't look so horrified. I
don't want you wandering round my house all day with your little willy
out and your clothes won't be dry for hours yet, so be good and step into
these knickers."
"No, please, there must be something else," I pleaded, even as she knelt
down and slipped my feet into the legholes. I could have stopped her.
Should have stopped her. Yet I didn't, something in her tone and manner
making me comply, my horror at the panties not stopping her from pulling
them up my legs and onto my waist.
She patted then my bum through the tight cotton and gave me a kiss on the
cheek. "I know this is hard for you but don't worry, it will be our
little secret."
I blushed so hard it was painful and felt my cock twitch in the panties.
"They are a little small Mrs. Remington."
"I did the best I could Steven, you are quite slim for a male. I wasn't
about to give you any of my things, you might get excited," murmured Mrs.
Remington as she moved my hands above my head and slipped a t-shirt on
me.
Staring in fascination in the mirror I ran my hand across my chest,
checking that what I saw was what I was really wearing. A tight white t-
shirt with the words "Good Girl" written in bright pink across the front
showed in the mirror and Mrs. Remington seemed quite satisfied with it.
At least SHE was happy.
Groaning audibly, I looked at the jeans she had brought. With butterflies
sewn onto the pockets and looking at least a size too small for me it
seemed she was not going to leave me any of my manliness intact.
"Don't pout Steven. You young men are all wearing those skinny jeans
anyway, these aren't that different," she said as she helped me into the
jeans, "you look adorable now."
'Adorable'. That was the last word I wanted to hear from Mrs. Remington.
Sexy, manly, stud. Any of those would have been great. Not adorable
though. Being called that was a nightmare. To make things worse the jeans
were as tight as the t-shirt and panties, the chafing and rubbing never
letting me forget what I was wearing.
I swear she was enjoying herself. Mrs Remington showed me round the
house, taking multiple stops to make me bend over and lift things, ogling
the way the jeans stretched across my rump. Later, as we sat and chatted
she put her hand on my knee and scooted close, letting me smell her
perfume. It felt so intimate to be chatting to her like this, I found
myself spilling out my life story, my hopes and dreams, even the
devastation I'd felt at missing out on so much of the normal teenage
stuff other guys got to do. She seemed so sympathetic and we were really
getting along.
At one point she leaned in and I thought she was going to kiss me. I even
closed my eyes and puckered my lips. Instead however she picked a piece
of lint off the t-shirt, right from the middle of one of the o's in 'good
girl'. It's what she said though that threw me the most.
"There we go Steven. I don't want my girl looking unkept," she whispered
in my ear.
"Girl? I'm a man Mrs. Remington," I had spluttered in protestation,
confused by her confusion.
She merely smiled and squeezed my cheek. "Of course, Stephanie," she
giggled, "I mean Steven. I just forgot for a moment in your new outfit."
Honestly it was a relief when the conversation moved on. I just kept
telling myself that this was only until tomorrow, that surely my luggage
would arrive then and this nightmare of squirming would be over.
After several hours Mrs. Remington announced she would be putting the
dinner on and ordered me to go get washed up in the bathroom. Seizing the
opportunity for some privacy I went up to it and closed the door, locking
it carefully. Staring at myself in the mirror I tried to rationalise my
acceptance of putting on what she?d given me and of how I?d simply done
what she?d told me ever since I arrived. Was there something wrong with
me? Mrs. Remington was just so attractive and paying attention to me, so
saying no was difficult. It wasn?t like I was enjoying this.
And yet... And yet... As I undid the jeans and lowered them to my ankles,
my cock sprang to attention, stretching the flowery panties accordingly.
After slipping off the jeans I couldn?t help myself. Tired as I was and
stressed as I was I needed some relief, touching myself tentatively at
first. To masturbate there in the bathroom in girls clothing wasn?t a
conscious decision, it just sort of happened. Before I knew it, I was
stroking myself vigorously through the tight cotton fabric.
I didn?t even hear the door open. I did lock it though, I know that.
?Steven! What are you doing,? growled Mrs. Remington as she stepped into
the bathroom. ?You naughty, naughty, pervert! You are wanking in those
panties I gave you!?
?I thought the door was locked,? I whimpered.
She stepped forwards and reached down, running her hand over my erection
through the cotton. ?That lock hasn?t worked for years Stephanie. If you
are a good girl and put your hands on your head I?ll keep touching your
little willy.?
I groaned, simultaneously pouting, protesting against being called
Stephanie and a girl, yet still doing exactly as she said, the
electricity running through my body from her touch too much to allow me
to do otherwise.
?See, I think you don?t mind it when I call you Stephanie. Your cock
doesn?t seem to object,? purred Mrs. Remington in my ear as she took a
place behind me, pressing her breasts into my back, ?in fact, I think you
might even like it.?
I shook my head. ?I don?t. I swear, I don?t.?
It was no use. My words said one thing my body another. With a single
teasing finger running against the outline of my dick she made my dreams
come true. I came from a woman?s touch. A gush of cum, hot and sticky
immediately coated the inside of the thin, flowery, fabric, some leaking
through the material to leave a white glob of semen on the front.
In the mirror I saw Mrs. Remington standing behind me, grinning
triumphantly as my cock twitched on its own to pump out the last of my
fluid. She took hold of my ear and dragged me down the hall to the small,
spartan bedroom next to hers, lecturing me as we went.
?That was a disgusting thing you did Stephanie. I will not tolerate such
behaviour in my household. I expected a well behaved young man, not a
dirty little pervert!?
I squeaked. I actually squeaked. ?Yes Mrs. Remington, sorry Mrs.
Remington.?
?Onto the bed you naughty girl, face down,? ordered Mrs. Remington.
I complied, looking back over my shoulder nervously. What I saw
confounded me. She was spooling out a belt, my belt, taking the buckle in
her hand as well as the other end, leaving nearly a foot of heavy brown
leather dangling from her fist.
?What are you doing?? I asked, my brain searching for answers. Sure, I?d
heard about spanking before but this is the 21st century. It?s not like
anyone does anything so barbaric anymore. Those thoughts lasted barely
thirty seconds. With a flash she raised the belt up and slapped it down
onto the flowery panties and my ass.
I squealed. ?Owww! Don?t do that!?
Mrs Remington rolled her eyes as she looked down at me. ?This is my house
Stephanie, I?ll do what I think is best. And you need to learn not to
behave!?
The belt slapped down again onto my rear. The sound of the impact echoed
in the small room just before my replying yelp. I could have stopped her.
If only I had stopped her. I didn?t though, my fingers digging into the
duvet instead. Each blow of the wicked leather was agony yet somehow the
only result was for me to push my hips deeper into the mattress, pressing
my flaccid cock into a cummy sandwich between my hips and the panties.
?Please Mrs. Remington! I didn?t know I wasn?t supposed to masturbate.?
My yips and pleading didn?t seem to sway her.
?I thought you were supposed to be a man Stephanie? Surely a big strong
man can take a few teeny tiny slaps with a belt.? Her tone was mocking
and her voice husky, sending shivers down my spine.
Trying to preserve some of my pride I buried my face into the pillow as
the tears started, spilling down my face one by one as my buttocks
bounced under my own belt. As an added benefit my grunts of pain were
muffled too. I stayed like that a while as she lectured.
?You filthy, naughty boy, naughty girl, naughty sissy!? she growled in
between the thwacks of the belt, ?If you are going to stay with me you
will need to be much, much better behaved.?
I sobbed. I sobbed like I hadn?t cried in years. Not through my illness,
through all the hospital stays had I sobbed like this. The thing is... It
felt good. Yes, the pain was awful, threatening to consume my mind, only
a sliver of my brain left to think instead of feel pain but as I lay
there in a girls t-shirt and cummy panties being belted by a woman old
enough to be my mother I felt something strange... Relief. For the first
time in years I wasn?t being treated like I?d break in the smallest gust
of wind and as the pain and the shame of how I was being treated my
teenage years of misery were relegated to memory. Perhaps it?s because I
had something new to be miserable about that I was finally able to
discard them. Maybe though it was that some part of me wanted this
treatment, needed it even.
As I cottoned on to the excitement in Mrs. Remington?s tone, the world
suddenly seemed right. She wanted this too. As I lay there crying into
the pillow I became dimly aware that the roar of agony from the belts
blows had ended, instead a dull throbbing emerging in my cheeks. Looking
up and over my shoulder I saw Mrs. Remington?s flushed face leaning over
me.
I managed to choke out some words through the tears. ?I?m sorry Mrs.
Remington. I won?t do it again.?
She stroked my forehead and kissed it gently. ?We?ll see Steven. Dinner
will be ready in an hour, that is if you are still able to sit in your
knickers. I think you and I are going to have to have a long talk about
your stay with me.?
I nodded silently as she turned on her heel, her lovely ass walking away
from me.
55 Minutes Later
The cum on my panties had dried, well, on the panties Mrs. Remington had
given me, sticking them to my skin. So had my tears. Through the open
door I could hear her whistling a merry tune as she cooked. Most
worryingly my cock had begun to twitch to life again despite what had
just happened. I knew that the sane thing to do would be to walk away. I
also knew that I wouldn?t. Gosh, I just hope Mrs. Remington doesn?t have
anything too weird planned........
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