Room 2D

From Roué 34 Sonia could never make her mind up what aspect of her visits to her Uncle Roland she hated the most. On the one hand there was the humiliation; on the other was the pain. Neither was pleasant, but as to which was the most unpleasant she just wasn’t sure. What she  did  know, however, was that she would gladly go without either aspect of her dreaded visits, and longed for the day when, at long last, she would be spared the attentions of her mother’s favourite brother. As each year passed; as she grew more and more mature; more and more a young woman rather than a girl, Sonia told herself that soon — very soon — her fortnightly ‘sessions at uncle’s’ would cease. She had been telling herself this since she was sixteen and in her final year at school. Now, aged nineteen — and just two months away from her twentieth birthday — her visits were just as frequent and showed no signs of coming to an end. Of course, i...

From Roué 28 It’s always the same when Uncle Oliver punishes me. Whatever I happen to be wearing I am made to go to my room and change into these silly clothes. He bought them a year or so ago. The knickers are the skimpiest pair he could get hold of and as you can see afford me very little in the way of protection when I have bent over. They cut right into my bum so that my poor sit-upon is almost completely bare. The vest has ridiculously large arm-holes, thanks to a nifty bit of alteration by Uncle. This, as you can see, was done so that when yours truly is in the correct position yours truly’s boobs hang out. He likes boobs does Uncle Oliver though he quite clearly prefers bottoms — mine especially. I have to stand there like that for simply ages while he sits and makes comments on my appearance. ‘You  are  growing into a big girl now, Tina,’ he’ll say or: ‘What a fine young bottom you have, Tina.’ I blush like crazy ...

Story from Blushes Supplement 20, which feels like a R.T. Mason one. ‘It’s hot,’ Antonia said fanning herself. ‘It’s too hot.’ It was hot, certainly, as it usually is on a June afternoon in southern Italy. Hot and sultry but nothing Antonia wasn’t used to; she had only come 40 kilometres from her own home to this, her father’s brother’s father-in-law’s place. And Uncle Paolo’s house was no hotter than the one she had grown up in. No, it was more just something to say. Small talk… She only saw Uncle Paolo occasionally, or had in the past, so he was partly a stranger and she felt awkward in his company. And there was also the matter of why she was here; why she had come to stay with him. Antonia knew the reason though it hadn’t actually been spelt out. That alone was enough to make her nervous, to feel the need to say something. But perhaps on reflection what she had said was not the best of openers, in the circumstances. For th...

From Blushes 32 ‘A gentleman will be calling,’ Mr Hilyard said. ‘This afternoon. So you will want to look pretty for him.’ He sipped his tea, eyes bright over the tea cup. ‘But then you’re always pretty, aren’t you, my dear?’ Charlotte flushed slightly. ‘Only if you say so, Uncle.’ She removed her wide-brimmed straw hat and replaced it again on her tresses. The morning sun was already hot in the garden. She was a very pretty girl and he wasn’t her uncle. Mr Hilyard was her guardian, since a year ago when she had left school. Nineteen now, a quite tall, full-grown young lady: a shapely figure under her skirt and top; a pretty full-lipped face beneath the wide straw brim of her hat. She smiled her blue-eyed smile. ‘I shall be on my very best behaviour, Uncle.’ Mr Hilyard put down his delicate china tea cup. ‘I know you will, my dear. You are always an excellently behaved young lady. Come round here and let me see you.’ Charl...