Caroline Takes Charge Ch 03

Back in aunty's bedroom, we lay on her bed and she took out – and I am not joking – a little black book from her bedside table drawer.

"I keep notes on all my clients in this little book, so I can swot up on their preferences, although I know most of the details, but a little refresher course never did anyone any harm," my lovely 38-year-old aunty-cum-dominatrix told me.

"Now let's see," she said, thumbing through the entries. "Ah, yes, Theresa M – my clients expect and receive total anonymity," said Aunty Caroline. "One must be discreet in this profession."

"What's her poison, aunty," I asked, eager to hear what games we would be playing.

Aunty Caroline read from the page on Theresa M: "She's 45, with vital statistics of 40-27-38. Likes: pussy and nipple punishment, golden showers, forced adoration."

I plunged in with a question: "Golden showers I've studied, forced adoration you've shown me today, but pussy and nipple punishment?"

Aunty Caroline smiled: "Oh yes, they are two favourite delights for most of my clientele. I'll give you a quick demo later." Then she read on: "No no's – some clients absolutely refuse to have anything to do with certain practices.

"Now, Theresa's 'No no's' are dildos and anal intrusion," said aunty.

Then she slammed the book shut and announced: "Enough research, now I promised you a demonstration of pussy and nipple torture."

I recoiled at the mention of "torture", but aunty smiled indulgently. "Don't worry, I won't be tearing your titties off, darling."

She stepped into her walk-in wardrobe and returned, now wearing high heels and that familiar black quarter-cup bra. In her hand she had a crop, several black silk stockings and some clamps.

"Right, Sam, let's have you kneeling up at the foot of the bed, facing me."

I obliged so that my naked body was facing her. Aunty Caroline then took my right wrist and tied a stocking to it, then did the same with my left. Around my upper shins, just below my knees, she tied two more stockings. She added another stocking to the free ends of the four attacked to my wrists and legs.

"Now to get you stretched, my pet," she said, taking the outer stockings and tying them expertly to the bed posts. This had the effect of tensing my entire body. It did wonders for my breasts, which I felt were thrust up into great uplift! For my pussy, of course, it meant total and unencumbered exposure.

Aunty then cupped one of my breasts in her hand and sucked on my nipple, engorging it, before attaching a metal nipple clamp into place on the erect bud.

She did the same to my other nipple, then placed two lead weights to the D-ring attachments at the bottom of the clamps. I felt the tension in my titties, but was proud to see that my 34-inch breasts were still standing high.

Aunty surveyed my predicament and smiled: "Now I'm going to give you some mild twat torture – and it would pay not to writhe around too much, because those nipple clamps aren't coming off for a while!"

I nodded my understanding, hoping that I would be able to adhere to her instruction. Somehow, I felt it was going to be difficult.

Aunty Caroline then picked up the crop she had emerged from the wardrobe carrying and placed it just below my mouth. "This is a simple little riding crop," she informed me, "but it has one rather rigid flap at the business end. That's for your pussy. Would you like to kiss it?"

With that, my aunt placed the flap against my mouth and I placed a reverent kiss on the coolness of the leather. I found the ritual stimulating and hoped that I wasn't too wet down there, although I could feel my juices starting to stir.

Aunty then stepped back and placed the crop's flap against my pussy, rubbing it delightfully along my sex trench before pulling it away and inspecting it. From where I knelt in bondage, I could see the glistening gleam my juices had deposited on the leather – clear proof of my arousal.

My aunt smiled knowingly and then flicked the crop against my piss flaps. "Ooooouch," I yelled, as the pain stung through me like an electric shock. And, to add to my worries, my upper body threshed around, causing sudden little jolts to run through my titties and breasts.

The next blow I was expecting, and although I didn't cry out, the surge of pain which coursed through my sex caused me to writhe again, sending little volts of excitement through my boobs.

Slowly, with a deliberate cadence, aunty continued to whip my poor defenceless pussy with her riding crop, but after a while I found I could control my upper body, cutting back on my wriggling and writhing until I was receiving the punishment almost stoically.

Finally, Aunty Caroline halted her flagellation of my pussy and placed the flap against my mouth for more kisses. The leather was now infused with the aroma of my snatch, and the inter-mingling perfumes of sex juice and leather was almost dizzying.

Aunty threw the crop on the bed's satin sheets, then went to her dressing table and pulled the wide stool standing in front of it until it was directly opposite my bound body.

Seated on the stool, her face was directly level with my crotch and I tensed, aware of what she was going to do, but unaware of the effect her attentions would have on my flogged flesh.

As if sensing that, aunty looked up at me, her lovely dark hair shining around her beautiful face. "Don't worry, Sam, this is the best part," she whispered. Then she buried her face in my pussy and began to perform her erotic expertise on my tingling twat.

At first the sensation of her tongue on my recently assaulted minge was agony. My mouth tensed but I let out a low "Mmmmmmn" as Aunty Caroline began to massage my pussy, flicking her tongue into my cunt, then along the outer labia lips, before trailing further upwards to my crop-punished clitoris.

Gradually, though, the throbbing pain down there began to recede, to be replaced with a glowing sensation that was causing me to release even more sex juice.

This reaction drew a response from my "agony aunt", who pulled her face away and planted a deep kiss on my mons. "You're so wet down there, you dirty little slut!" she whispered, huskily.

"How can I help it, you wicked woman?" I panted. Then, feeling bolder I implored: "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Aunty heeded my pleas and buried her face back into my streaming snatch, licking and kissing her way from anus to clit and back again, each trip over my sex lips eliciting little groans and moans as I let my lust take over.

Finally, her ministrations were too much and I started to thrash about in my bonds as the inevitable orgasm began to flood through me in an unstoppable surge. I shouted and yelled all the usual things that we women cry out in the throes of ecstasy, then I slumped as the climax peaked, then began to ebb.

Aunty then went to the bedside table, where I had left my half-full glass of Krug and brought it over, allowing me to drain the lovely amber fluid. Then she gently unclipped the clamps from my nipples and stood slightly off to one side.

"Ready?" aunty inquired. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I nodded.

She then placed her right hand against my sex trench and began to stroke my fevered flesh, flicking through my cleft before tweaking on my clit. Then she lowered her mouth and sucked on my right nipple.

I arched backwards, striving to escape her oral attentions, as a searing shock ran through my breast. Then she leaned over and sucked on the left nipple. Again an electric jolt ran from my nipple through my heaving boob.

As she flicked her fingers along my sex trench, sometimes pushing a forefinger up my cunt, sometimes pinching on my clit, aunty's mouth flickered from nipple to nipple, sending shock waves through my recently clamped tits.

But gradually, as it had with my pussy, the pain in my boobs faded into a glorious glow of arousal. Aunty sucked increasingly strongly on my tits, and then – as if my breasts were a conduit to my clit – I began to heave and surge to orgasm once more, as her mouth and fingers did their wonderful work.

Cuddling together back on the bed, aunty stroked my hair and allowed me to suck on her stunning 36-inch tits, still pressed up in the lovely leather quarter-cup bra, when she suddenly sat up.

"Right, Sam," she smiled, "that's pussy and tit torture out of the way – and I know you absolutely adored it! You're becoming well aware of body adoration, so that leaves golden showers."

I sat up. "Er, I don't know, aunty," I mumbled. "That's something I'm really sure about."

Aunty Caroline looked reassuring. "Don't worry, darling," she calmed me, "just a little introduction – nothing too heavy!"

I nodded. "OK then, aunty, I trust you."

The stunningly-built ex-Penthouse Pet and retired lingerie model, then got up, removed her bra and held out her hand to me. "The shower's the best place for this, then we can clean up the mess and get ourselves cleaned up at the same time," she told me.

In the en suite bathroom, Aunty Caroline then ran the shower till hot water steamed all over the room. Switching it off, she turned on the extractor fan and announced: "Now it's nice and warm in there – let's go!"

I stepped into the shower cubicle, butterflies in my stomach and felt aunty's hand stroking my buttocks.

"Do you want to piss first, or shall I?" she asked, as we stepped against each other, our breasts rubbing together, her mons pressing against mine.

"I'm bursting to pee, aunty," I said, "that champagne has gone straight to my head."

Aunty laughed: "You mean straight to your bladder, Sam!"

Then, to my surprise, she went down on her knees so her face was directly opposite my pussy. Looking back on it, quite what position I had expected her to adopt, I don't know, but her words then gave me no doubt as to her expectations.

"Piss on my face, darling, let it go!" she breathed, her voice betraying her excitement.

I placed my feet on either side of her haunches and prepared to let go. As keen as I was to piss, excitement got the better of me for a moment, preventing me from releasing the flood I knew was building.

Then aunty's tongue flickered along my sex trench and all inhibitions were lost as I let loose a flood of yellow urine, which splattered and splashed all over her face.

The warm piss cascaded down her upper body and Aunty Caroline placed her hands beneath her nipple-hard breasts to cup pools of piss in her palms.

She then proceeded to rub the sticky wetness all over her lovely globes as my stream dwindled to a tiny trickle, then faded away entirely.

At the conclusion, Aunty Caroline placed her mouth on my minge and her tongue laved along my labia lips, sucking the slick slit between them. The effect was once more to drive me to a frenzy of lust and without shame I grabbed her lustrous hair and pressed her into my sex as I shouted my way to climax yet again.

When my sobs had calmed, Aunty Caroline stood and placed a slow, lingering kiss on my mouth, her lips tasting warm and salty from my piss. I was surprised at how incredibly sexy such a kiss was and I responded eagerly, licking and kissing her piss-stained face.

"Now it's my turn, darling," she whispered, and a firm hand pressed me down to the floor of the cubicle. On my way there I'm not ashamed to say that I traced my tongue over her gleaming urine-drenched breasts, savouring the salty tang on her wonderful flesh.

When I was kneeling on the warm, piss covered floor of the shower, aunty placed her feet wide. Her pose brought her dark-haired, trimmed pussy close to my mouth, her prominent, pink lips plainly in view.

A husky voice above me called out: "Ready, pet?"

I placed a slow, deferential kiss on aunty's pussy – stained, I could tell as I tasted her, by the contents of my bladder that I had emptied over her only minutes before.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', my darling," said aunty, as I bestowed my kiss on her tasty twat.

Then a stream of yellow piss erupted, striking me with a warm jet. I spluttered beneath its assault, then Aunty Caroline squatted a little and made a target of my breasts.

Taking a lead from aunty's performance, I cupped my hands beneath my breasts as the warm urine sprayed onto me, and rubbed it in circles over my nipple-taut globes.

Finally, aunty's jetstream dwindled to a few drops and I pressed my mouth against her sex, sucking on her labia, licking at her urethra, amazing myself at the wonderfully sexy taste of her amber nectar.

Then, aunty took charge of my next moves and began to graunch and grind on my mouth, thrusting back and forth as my tongue traversed the slippery crevices of her pussy before exploding in an ecstasy of climactic excitement.

As her quivering and heaving subsided, I climbed back to my feet and we pressed our mouths against each other, tasting salty tangyness, rubbing our piss-covered breasts together.

Aunty disengaged her mouth from mine and turned the shower on, to allow hot water to cascade all over our bodies.

"Now for another kind of shower, my darling niece," Aunty Caroline whispered in my ear.

"Yes," I responded, "but nowhere near as tasty!"

To be continued.