His Futa Auntie

This story is a commission piece containing Futa on male domination with enlarged anatomies including a 14-inch cock, incest between Aunt and Nephew, reluctance, and clapping butt-cheeks. There's a bit of build-up to the good stuff as well, so if you're still here at the end of all that, I hope you all enjoy it! -- TSG123

*

"Is that her?"

The guard looked over at a tall, well-built prisoner who was strolling across the yard, her outfit too tight to contain her ample muscles.

"Nope, Sheila's bigger, and meaner-lookin' too."

He chuckled at the first guard's nervous twitch.

"Relax spud, you won't have to deal with Sheila, she's gettin' released today."

"Oh.... Oh good."

"I gotta say, I actually think I'm gonna miss her... she keeps the rest of 'em in line... 'Specially her bitches"

"B... bitches?"

Tam rolled his billy club idly between his fingers.

"O' course! Got a hell of an appetite. Sam over there's the one who usually takes it worst."

Spud looked over at a young man who was limping, looking slightly dazed.

"Is... is something wrong with him?"

Tam chuckled.

"Oh, I 'spect Sheila's just had her morning session. He'll be full to the brim... I tell yeh, if there's one thing I WON'T miss, it'll be cleanin' her cell afterwards. Dang near drowned a couple o' times."

"In... in what?"

Tam raised an eyebrow at his green compatriot.

"Boy.... There's enough jizz in her balls to fill the Pacific."

"Jesus."

"Yup.... Gots to be honest, I don't know how they are lettin' her out, but... rules are rules I guess."

They watched as Sam limped off.

"May God protect whoever she sets her eyes on next."

***

Pouty lips. Pale face. Long lashes. If you had described the figure staring into the bathroom mirror as a young girl it would have been a reasonable, if entirely inaccurate conclusion.

The young girl was in fact a boy, or rather a man, although anyone who guessed him as being a twenty-three-year-old male on first glance was either lucky or blind, because a considerable portion of his assets had gone into making him look as wilting and soft as the most delicate of flowers.

He brushed a wave of black hair out of his saucer-like eyes. Somehow he always seemed an inch from crying out of those deep, black wells, and today was no different, rubbing a hand across his chest and belly which looked like they were intended simply to be oiled, massaged, or perhaps photographed before being placed on pillows in a museum, light shining off the milky sheen of his skin.

"Okay, okay... James, tell them, you're an adult now.. you're an..."

He tripped over his words a little and his knee turned inwards.

"No, no.... Mum, Dad... I can... I can be alone... I...."

There was a pause whilst he seethed at himself and stomped his foot so gently that it barely made a sound on the tiles beneath him.

"Just.... Hmph!"

It was impossible for James to say why he was the way he was, but it had always been this way. From his first moments, he had always been effeminate, delicate, demure....

His fingers found the one note of rebellion on his otherwise flawless young body, a belly button piercing, which matched the one in his tongue. He thought it looked pretty cool... the girls would love it when he was older.

James grimaced, having thought the same for six years. He was still waiting for them to notice him...

The painful memories of the only date he had ever been on still haunted him; somehow managing to convince an old classmate to accompany him to a bar, only to have her almost vomit because of the sound of his ass-cheeks clapping as he walked. He had tried to avoid short-shorts after that, but his bubble butt was so sensitive....

'Speaking of which, time to work out', he thought, puffing his chest up.

Since sneaking his father's workout DVDs from their bedroom (little did he know they were actually his Mother's), he tried to do them three times a week. James didn't know why but the central coach wearing tight spandex on the front cover always seemed to make him feel safe somehow.

James placed the disc in, turned the tv on, and slid on head and wristbands to soak up any small traces of sweat before clicking his favourite sequence: 'Day 6: Ass and legs'.

"HEY there guys, it's Terrance here on high-five workouts, and we're here to get those cheeks and tweaks pumping!"

A group of women ranged from thirty to fifty jogged on the spot behind him, all with large, incredible breasts and asses, cheering as they began to lunge left and right with Terrance whilst he gyrated his groin with gusto in the air. The soundtrack was cheesy, and the colours couldn't have been more garish if they were in a kid's TV show. Pink was everywhere.

James' eyes roved across the bevvy of bouncing breasts as he lunged. He usually oscillated between those and the bulge in Terrance's pants. He didn't know why his eyes fell there so often, but he rationalised that it was in the centre of the screen so it would be tough not to look at it anyway.

James felt himself rising to full mast with his four-inch penis, which he assumed meant his workout was going well. Blood pumped through his crotch, creating almost no identifiable bulge in his pants as he wiggled his ass this way and that, and the two rubbery pillows began slapping together as if applauding themselves for being so slutty.

By now James was used to the sound of his ass smacking itself behind him if he got any more enthusiastic than a slow walk, but he had learnt to avoid doing it in front of other people, as it provoked laughter in many cases, and sometimes much worse. His Dad in particular detested having to hear the reminder of how worthless his only son was, and insisted James never work up a sweat in the house whilst he was present.

"Come on girl!" shouted Terrance, squatting low, and James obediently lined his hips up and dipped down to the floor. His ass was so bubbly that if he ever lost balance and fell backwards it sometimes bounced him back up, and he had convinced himself that his natural reflexes must be the reason he could get back on his feet so quickly.

Around thirty minutes of brutal leg exercises had James huffing, sweat bands soaking in the slight sweat coming from his wrists and forehead.

He could feel the burn in his thighs and quads raging through the muscles, and by the time they reached the only arm exercises of the video he had stopped and begun glugging from his water container, as he always did whenever they decided to do upper body work. After mulling it over for a few seconds, he decided that this was enough for one day.

Turning away from the screen where the women were now pumping their shoulders, he casually clicked the power button on the remote and went into the shower to wash the tiny amount of sweat off his body, before dressing himself in one of his many booty shorts and tight-white t-shirt combinations that always gave him a confidence boost. The extra small (women's) t-shirt allowed him to flex his adorable biceps and actually fill out the sleeve.

He didn't know why women never seemed to go for him... he was already manly, he thought whilst teasing his own nipple through the near see-through material, before realising he was doing it again and folding his arms. It was hard to think without his fingers naturally straying to his sensitive buds.... Still, not the worst habit in the world, he could be a masturbator! He shivered, thinking back to the two times he had masturbated in his life, and a deep shame stole through him.

"Dinner's ready!" said a voice from downstairs, and James' eyes peeled. Maybe May would notice he had got pumped from his workout?

He jogged towards the kitchen and then stopped because his ass-cheeks were making such a racket that he might wake the neighbours. He slowed his pace and turned up in the doorway, where a ginger girl with a little more height than him, green eyes and a pretty nose was serving macaroni and cheese into two waiting bowls.

James watched her for a second and nearly jumped out of his skin when Jessica tutted.

"You know... you must be the loudest boy I've ever heard for someone who's trying to be sneaky."

His face went bright pink as she turned with an unimpressed look.

May was eighteen, five years younger than him and about to go to college. For some reason his Mom and Dad seemed to think it was perfectly fine to have her babysit him.

"So, Mac and Cheese?" said James, trying to turn to the side and show his arms tight in the t-shirt, which had the unfortunate side-effect of swinging his butt into full view and making it explode out of his short shorts like the most shameless Instagram model imaginable.

May sighed and put down the serving spoon.

"Listen James, for the last time those workout videos are never going to get you laid, and certainly not with me, so can we just eat dinner?"

He nodded, deflated as he accepted the bowl being proffered to him and sat down at the table.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before May struck up a conversation.

"James... I really don't understand why you don't just admit you're gay."

He hiccupped, lodging a piece of pasta in his throat. It wouldn't budge, and he coughed, clutching pathetically at his throat. May rolled her eyes, already walking over. James' eyes were going red as he spluttered, and then strong hands wrapped around his belly and slammed him against her. The offending carbohydrate sailed out of his mouth and through the air, landing on the spotless kitchen table along with a small splodge of saliva.

"Th-thanks," he spluttered.

May didn't reply, quite accustomed to James' inability to present even a poor imitation of an adult male.

"As I was saying, you being gay...... The workout videos, the way you dress, the way you ARE.... It ain't that hard to work out."

He said nothing, already fighting back tears.

'Men don't cry, men don't cry, men don't cry.'

"Two plus two equals four right?"

She eyed him with interest, a rarity in itself as she usually did the exact opposite. He had once asked if she would like to play his favourite dance video game with him, but she had flatly declined, and he had avoided the olive branch from then on.

"I'm not gay."

His tone was as firm as he could make it, and he crossed his arms.

"I'm a man."

"Fuck you, asshole," she said robotically.

His eyes welled up, and he scrunched them shut.

"W...why would you say that?..."

She raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Because men don't cry every time you call them an asshole."

She continued eating her macaroni quite serenely as James breathed a few times and wiped his eyes.

"W-well you caught me by surprise."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, James putting his knife and fork together and waiting for May to finish.

"How was it?"

"Nice," he smiled.

She nodded and grabbed both bowls, nudging him on the way to the sink which made him wince.

"In denialllll," she sang softly, placing the bowls on the dishwasher rack.

James stared at the lone piece of macaroni sitting forlornly on the kitchen table.

He wasn't gay. He was just waiting for the manliness inside to come out....

"Are you going to clear up your mess or just leave me to do it?"

"Yes, sorry," he whined, waddling over to the kitchen roll which set his cheeks slapping again.

"Jesus James, could you glue those together or something?" she said, scrunching her nose in disgust.

"Sorry."

He tried to mince his walk back to the table and that seemed to do the trick.

His gaze honed in on the table and he carefully sized up his target.

May watched with incredulity as he bent over the table like a porn star, so focused on making the table spotless, tongue pressed to the outside of his lips, that he didn't notice May's nauseous expression as he doubled over, ass waiting to be mounted.

"Disgusting," she murmured, unable to look away as he began to gyrate whilst carefully wiping every last inch of the dirty spot on the table.

'Honestly maybe I should ask him for lessons on how to be a slut, that way the boys at college might actually notice me,' she grumbled in her head as he twerked the last of the counter to a perfect shine.

"All done!" he simpered, mincing over to the bin and threw the dirty towel away.

May's fake vomiting went unnoticed as a car engine outside signalled the return of Mom and Dad from date night.

It looked like the tiny amount of freedom he could enjoy was about to end.

He fingered the stud in his belly button as the lights went out and two figures walked up to the front door.

"Hey Shnoogums! May! Goodness this summer never ends!"

His Mum was first in, offering a warm smile to them both as she stepped in. She was a plumpish woman with mousy, greying hair, and a radiant expression. A white cocktail dress sat on her curves and covered anything that might be considered provocative, and a small silver cross hung from her neck.

"How was your date Miss Bennet?"

"Oh wonderful, we went to St Piers, quite lovely!"

She seemed to swell when she gazed upon her handsome boy.

"How was everything here?"

"All good Mrs Bennet, James choked on a piece of macaroni."

James groaned as his Mother hooted and scurried over to check him in case the macaroni was still hiding under his shirt, waiting to throttle him at a moment's notice.

"Oh Goodness, thank you so much May, what would we do without you! One hundred and fifty was it?"

Mr Bennet stepped through the doorway as money was being handed over, looking rather well fed. His expression changed as soon as he laid eyes on his son and the amount of money changing hands.

"Yup," said May, her smile gleeful as she scrunched the bills in her hands. "Oh by the way Mrs Bennet, I won't be available for a little bit, I'm going to some open days, so I'll be out of town until Wednesday."

"Oh... Oh all right, well.... well good luck, and we'll see you when you get back I suppose!"

"Great, bye guys!" and with a last weird look at James, she went through the doorway.

"Bye," he murmured with a wave, but she had already marched down the driveway, and his arm fell limp by his side.

"Lucky May was here right honey? Thank God for that girl, I swear she was sent to us by Jesus himself."

"Yes... thank God," said Mr Bennet through gritted teeth, still infuriated that they needed to ask their neighbour's eighteen-year-old daughter to watch over their grown toddler.

His mother didn't notice the frustration in her husband's voice, continuing as if he had heartily agreed with her.

"Well we'll need to find a replacement babysitter darling, it'll be on honeymoon week as well...."

James' ears pricked up.

He minced up to his Mum and Dad who were busy taking their shoes off, careful to keep his butt silent.

'Now is the time, while they're happy.... You can do this.'

"Mum...Dad... I'd.... I'd like to ask for... for something."

Mum smiled kindly at him. His father glowered.

"What darling?"

"Well... If.... I'm older now.... I-It's....."

Mrs Bennet waited patiently whilst Mr Bennet already looked like he was close to bursting a blood vessel, his head transforming into a plum with slits for eyes.

".....I could stay.... I'm old enough now...."

"You said that already!," rumbled his father, turning an even deeper shade of purple.

"Doogums," said Mrs Bennet sharply to her husband, and he held back the vile epithets threatening to spill out from his mouth. "Come now darling, use your words."

"I...."

'You can do this.'

"I would....., I would like.... Um... I would liktostayloneinthouse."

He gave a strong nod and a hopeful smile.

His parents looked down at him confused.

"I'm sorry darling?"

His smile dropped, and he put a steely look on his face.

"Mother, Father....."

Mr Bennet growled so loudly that the cat sleeping on the stairs woke with a fright and scarpered up to the landing.

"OH erm... I can stay here. I can stay..... Here..... Alone."

Mrs Bennet's eyes became shrewd.

"Excuse me young man?"

Mr Bennet's eyebrows crept up his forehead. Could this be the first hints of masculinity threatening to creep from the peachy lips of his son?

"I think he said perhaps he wants to stay on his own...."

"No he didn't," she said sharply.

"Yes... I..."

She cast a furious eye on him.

"....I did."

The words seemed to echo through the hallway and out into the street.

James' lips quivered.

Mrs Bennet closed the door slowly, which chose this particular moment to creak like it was auditioning for a horror movie.

"Darling, I'm sorry.... but I do not think that this is a wise idea."

Mr Bennet look pained. His son trying to be a man? This could be a once in a lifetime opportunity....

He chose his words carefully.

"Dear... perhaps it would be nice to give him a little time to himself... grow his confidence you know ..."

"HE IS NOT BEING LEFT ALONE IN THIS HOUSE!" she shrieked.

That shut everyone up. There would be no arguing with James' Mother when she felt her chick was being threatened.

Mr Bennet schemed for a moment, brain whirring as he searched for a way to squeeze through her sturdy defence mechanisms.

"Of course, of course dear..."

She fixed him with a sturdy gaze.

".. But we would still need to find a nanny," he finished, trying not to wilt under her stare.

"Yes... yes," she breathed, slipping back into the doughy eyed woman that had walked in moments earlier once more. "Perhaps Jeremy?"

"He's moved away, you know this," said Mr Bennet, still hopeful of fanning the miniscule flames of manhood in his son after twenty-three long years.

"Is any of the family still in town?"

"No, none at all."

"Wait... But what about Auntie Sheila?"

James blinked.

'I have an Aunt?'

Mr Bennet paused, his master plan coming undone.

"Sheila..... but.....hasn't Auntie Sheila.... Didn't she just come out of prison?"

Mrs Bennet looked at him incredulously.

"Yes.... But our Shnoogums needs a babysitter."

James tried to pipe up.

"I.. I don't...."

His Mother cut over him harshly.

"If Auntie Sheila is available then she will look after our beautiful boy."

Mr Bennet seemed pained, desperate to try and appeal to the good nature of his wife.

"Dear.... Darling.. if our only option is Auntie Sheila, perhaps we should just give it up as a bad job and let the boy become a man. I mean... He can't stay here forever!"

This was the single worst thing he could have said, as his wife's nostrils quivered, and she clutched her handbag tight to her chest with a clenched fist.

"I think she will do just fine Graham!... The bible teaches us forgiveness, and of course, she is still family... Auntie Sheila will do it."

This last statement and the use of Mr Bennet's first name seemed to settle the matter. Mrs Bennet, looking much happier now that her chick would be remaining safe in the nest, spoke to James as if he had not been present for the entire conversation.

"Darling, Auntie Sheila will be looking after you next week."

"Yes, thank God," said Mr Bennet, glowering now that he was once again resigned to his son remaining a plumped-up ken doll with stripper buns.

"But... you never told me I have an Aunt...."

Mrs Bennet seemed to deflate slightly.

"Yes well.... The Lord gave her a different path to tread... Be that as it may... the fact is she is family and will be looking after you."

James looked crushed, and he couldn't stop hot tears beginning to flow down his cheeks.

Mr Bennet took this as his cue to leave, the waterworks having been turned on daily since the age of one and him having long since grown tired of it. He sidled to his favourite couch in the living room, ready to watch the same cop tv-show that he had watched for the last fifteen years.