His Futa Auntie

"It's good to see you," said Mrs Bennet stiffly.

"You too sis," leered Sheila, and with one last worried look upstairs, Mrs Bennet came out to join her husband in the car.

Sheila stared out of the window as the car engine started, not moving until it had drifted off down the street. Then her eyes turned to the darkness at the top of the staircase. Each step she took was eager, unsteady, and she slid her hand up the bannister on a slow climb towards the young creature waiting upstairs, her shorts clinging tight to the growing bulge as she slid over to the last door which had a small crack open, and pushed.

***

James heard the front door close, and the sound of his parent's car drifting off into the distance and then.... silence. For a second it seemed as if he were alone, and his heart lifted... but then the creaks of something heavy ascending the staircase echoed through the house.

James' heart hammered, sweat dappling his chest, and he stared at the crack in the door as each squeak came closer, before stopping right outside his bedroom. He knew she was right there, looming like a monster in the darkness.

Then the door swung open with a dull *THUD* and James let out a mewl as Sheila stood in the doorway, a hungry smile plastered on her face. She stood above him rather than across from him, his ultimate antithesis.

Sheila began to snort like a bull, content to gaze down at what she knew would be the best fuck of her entire life. He was dreamlike; hair that seemed to suck in all the surrounding light and expel it out of his skin, a surface so white it looked as if he hadn't spent a single day of his life outdoors. And of course, that ass....

She leaned over, openly gazing at the side of his butt, and James squeaked, turning away and backing into a corner. His caboose seemed to take an age to follow him, and Sheila's leer crept higher than it had in the last fifteen years of ass-fucking she had enjoyed.

Sheila decided she was going to take her time with this one.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt ya," she drawled, thinking about how best to split his butt cheeks wide open and impregnate his anus, gesturing a 'come here' sign with one huge hand.

He trembled.

"I..... I don't need a babysitter... I'mmm.. I'mmnn... I'm a m-m-man...."

Sheila was salivating, not quite able to hide the spasm in her left eye that occasionally hit her when she was trying to hold back blind lust.

"Oh, sure, you're a man huh?.... Well why don't we spend some time together... Some quality time...Just Auntie Sheila and her favourite nephew, havin' fun."

James bit his lip.

"But.. I have ch-chores to do...."

"Well that's just great, because I fuckin' love watching people do their chores.... Why don't we start with the kitchen floor."

He bristled at the coarse language, something that was banned in their household.

"B.. but I cleaned it yeste..."

"Fuckin' clean it again then!" she snarled, as the corners of her mouth creased upwards.

The closest thing to Sheila's smile that James could think of was the wide-toothed grin of a great white shark, because it had the same pitiless, single-minded edge to it.

"I-I mean.... It could use a l-little extra polish," he snivelled, attempting to get up and finding his legs not working properly, forcing him to adopt a slow crawl towards the door. He tried to slip past his Aunt but the bulky legs didn't move, and when he looked up he only saw that smile grow bigger behind a rapidly swelling crotch that was beginning to... unfurl.

He blubbered and crawled between them, feeling her calves peel inwards as he did so, forcing him to work extra hard to pop his hips between her feet. A huge hand came out of nowhere and smacked his ass harder than his father ever had, and he blurted out a weak cry and scurried forwards.

"Good boy," she grinned as he ran towards the stairs, managing to regain the use of his legs to fly down in a cheek-clapping chorus that left Sheila's heart thumping in her chest. She waited a few seconds before following, coming to the kitchen where James was already grabbing a cloth and some polish.

He bent down, and Sheila's hands made their way to her crotch as James started twerking, putting everything he had into shining the tiled surface which was already spotless. He rested his weight forward on the cloth with every wipe, ass up in the air like a radio beacon which was sending a continuous distress signal to Sheila, begging to be met with her cock.

"Yeah, that's it boy."

James was scared of looking behind him, keen to put in extra effort so as not to displease the beast at his back, and saliva began flowing freely between Sheila's teeth because James began gyrating so hard that most of the blood in her body seemed to flood to her cock. She was almost getting light-headed watching him positively gagging for it.

'Unbelievable.'

The perfect little slut... and he was her stuck up sister's son, of all people!

Her brain warred with her cock for oxygen, attempting to figure out a way to lure the poor boy into a spread-eagled position for her waking python.

"Is that okay?" he asked, breathing heavily as he came up to his knees and turned to her.

"Damn right," she said, staring at his heaving chest as he bounced on his heels, "You're just fuckin' perfect."

He couldn't help blushing.

"At least for starters... we've got a whole house to work on, and I wanna see you put your sweet back into it for the rest of the day."

James rubbed his knees. It was going to be a long afternoon.

He got to his feet and Sheila growled.

"Fuck no, you don't stand unless I tell you to stand, now back to your fuckin' knees."

Her expression changed back from murder to glee as James dropped, quivering, to the floor once more.

"Such a good boy," she whispered, and as she approached, her crotch came level with his head, and James's eyes became round watery wells. 'The Bulge' was less than an inch from his nose, and there was a musk emanating from it; James reckoned that if pure testosterone had a smell, it would have been the one filling his nostrils, not helped by the brutal heat adding sweat to the cocktail emanating from her groin.

"I-I'm a man," he stuttered, even as he stared at her crotch like a prime viewing in an art installation, feeling a trill of jealousy that he didn't possess such prime bull meat in his own pants.

"Yeah, sure," she chuckled. She'd broken enough bitches in her time to know when to take control and when the boy in question just needed to give in to their nature.

He stopped staring at it after far too long a time, taking in his nanny, all 250ibs of her, those hooker lips glinting in the sunlight.

Sheila reached down and stroked his cheek with large, rough hands that had seen plenty of iron, and James didn't know what to do as she rubbed his chin like a pet.

"Get your feather duster, you're gonna do the whole living room, and get real fuckin' deep in the corners.... Just like a real man."

His eyes lit up, and he made to stand before wilting back to his knees under a glacier-melting gaze, crawling through the hallway to retrieve his feather duster and moving towards the spacious front room with cream carpets, pouffes and sofas with Sheila in hot pursuit.

Despite being a woman, Sheila had an air of masculinity that he had never experienced before, that perhaps he could sample, as if getting close enough to this beast might cause some to rub off on him by accident.

"So... so real men are good at cleaning?" he said, hoping to confirm what he already knew about manliness as he shuffled to a lamp to tickle it with his fluffy instrument.

Sheila was beginning to sense his need, dumping herself on the sofa, legs wide and one arm resting on the back.

'So he wants to be a man huh?'

"Of course, could clean this fuckin' dump with my eyes closed," she drawled. In reality only her bitches would ever do any housework on the rare occasions when she wasn't in prison. "Its one of the manliest things you can do... that and anal."

James clawed the carpet as the feather duster began to shake harder against the lamp.

"A.....Anal?" he said, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, anal. You ever done it?"

"Urm.... No....."

Sheila laughed, or rather roared.

"Well no wonder you're not a real man yet! That's why all the girlies can see you're a bitch, like I can. Sure you got a manly ass, manly lips, manly cleaning but...... You need more than that to be a real man."

"Can... can you teach me?"

She stroked her chin as if considering it.

"Well... seeing as we're family... I suppose I could, for my dear nephew."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes, although James was far too busy to notice between being pointed to various nooks and crannies, bending to get to really low spots, and balancing on furniture to reach the ceiling, on tip-toes which tightened his leg muscles in a display of physique which had Sheila salivating.

James noticed Sheila seemed to get far more excited in these moments, which he took as a sign he was doing a good job. Maybe she could be the family member who finally understands him? The thought filled him with vigour as he began to prance across the living room, which only made Sheila more animated.

"Fuck yeh, get at it, you fuckin whore!" she heckled as he tiptoed to the television and dusted it down thoroughly.

"A-Auntie Sheila.... Thank you... but could you not, erm... not call me that...."

She tipped her head to the side.

"Well I wouldn't say it to a fuckin' man now would I?"

He deflated slightly.

"Oh... okay..."

"Listen, you can be a man... you just have to listen to your Auntie Sheila, we'll change that, don't you worry."

His smile filled with hope, and he even began to put on a show, bending so low whilst keeping his ass high that he was almost doing a headstand as he dusted under the sofas, a move which elicited a deep groan from Sheila because his ass had expanded to fill every seam of the boxers he was wearing.

"Hmmm... Dining room boy, quickly" muttered Sheila, red faced as James led her through.

More dusting, and this time she made him scrub the table, nearly bringing tears to her eyes as he flicked that whore tongue to the side of his cheek, concentrating on a particularly stubborn speck of dirt that wouldn't budge.

"Let me check it," Sheila murmured, coming up right behind James, and before he could move she had rammed her crotch into his ass, one hand on the table and one hand on his delicate shoulder to keep him steady.

"Uhnn!" he squeaked as he felt her prodigious bulge pressing against his ass-cheeks. Her calloused weight-lifter hand was tough against his skin, (he regretted being shirtless) and he tried to shirk her off before a light increase in pressure made him fall still.

"Hmmm," murmured Sheila, rubbing her free hand across the table. "I'd say you did good..... for a woman."

James moaned, crushed as her hand slid up to play with his hair.

"D-d-do you need... any more?....."

Sheila looked around.

"Hmmm, what time's it?"

She found a clock. 4.30pm.

"Yeh know what? It's been so tiring doin' all this cleaning that I think we'd better get to bed."

"Huh?" whispered James, as her fingers slid across his forehead, messing his hair up. "I...Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"You fuckin' heard me," she growled, and he whimpered, legs beginning to shake. "We're both tired, so we're gonna lie down."

"O-Okay," he murmured, and she pulled back from the table.

"Show me where you're sleeping."

She pulled herself off of him, and James staggered to the stairs, waiting politely for her to join him as she took her time, maintaining eye contact the whole way.

His jog up the stairs was noticeably quicker, which made his ass cheeks clap once more, and Sheila held back and tilted her head to the side so she could really enjoy the sight of the half-naked boy running to his doom.

'If God is real, he did a damn good job there,' she thought excitedly to herself. She picked up a bag from the hallway and checked it, making sure the baby oil and lube bottles were still inside before ascending after him.

'Come here my little rabbit.'

She swaggered to his bedroom door and shoved it open.

James was stood next to his bed, ankle turning back and forth on the carpet.

"So.. uh... I sleep here... I think there's a spare room just down the hall...."

"We'll sleep together, I was told to look after you," she growled.

James' knees went weak.

"R...really?"

She smirked.

"Yeah... and because it's so hot, we're gonna sleep naked."

James was naturally pale, but he became near-translucent at this piece of information, his stomach trying to collapse in on itself.

"A...Auntie Sheila... I don't.... we might not fit...."

This seemed to anger her, and he fell into a mumbled silence.

"I don't give a fuck, my house, my rules," she stated.

His knees turned inwards, shoulders sagging.

"Now strip."

Tears came to the corners of James' eyes, and his fingers flirted with the waistband of his boxers, already sweating from the day's efforts, now doubly so at the current situation.

"Auntie...A-A-Auntie Sh.....Sheil......"

Sheila took a step closer from the doorway, and although she had barely moved a metre it felt like a rhino had begun its charge.

"I. Said. Strip," she repeated, gravel in her throat.

A solitary tear ran down James' cheek as he pulled down his boxers, revealing an erect, 4-inch cock, with a spot of pre-cum on the tip.

"Oh that's..... that's good," breathed Sheila, staring with starving eyes.

James fought the urge to cover himself up as Sheila molested him with her gaze, stepping out of his last defences.

"You're a fuckin' dirty little nephew, you know that?"

James didn't know what to say.

"I-I'm.... a man..."

"Sure you are.... my turn."

Sheila grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head, and James moaned as her tits sprang clear in the air, round, sweaty orbs with dull nipple piercings that were so enticing to James' virgin brain. Below them a six-pack was exposed, chiselled enough that he could almost feel the steel in her abs, and he didn't have the guile to stop himself following her every move like a kitten eyeing a piece of string as she hauled her sports shorts down her thighs.... and a monster dropped out.

James nearly fainted upon seeing a penis around 14 inches in length; a horse-cock containing at least six times more meat than his unmanned baby carrot. The shaft was veiny and light bronze moving into a dark purple head, a fleshy torpedo with a huge, metal piercing in it. James had never heard of a prince albert, and his eyes couldn't conceive how she could have pierced herself with something so.... heavy. A healthy bushel of hair was present around the base of it, dark brown in contrast to her bleached hair, and every so often the appendage would throb in a way that suggested malignant intentions.

"Why you fuckin' staring?"

James was snapped out of his reverie.

"Ah urm.... I-It's large...."

"Yeah, it is," she said, swinging it casually like she was building up momentum to make a hole in the wall.

James' head followed it, hypnotised by the movement of something so big, so other-worldly.

Sheila continued to make large figure-eights in the air, popping open her oil bottle as she did so, and James didn't notice her start oiling her body until she reached her breasts.

"GLUGH!" he spluttered, nearly choking on his tongue as she slathered oil over her tits, running it down the crevasse between them and onto her belly, dripping it all the way to her thighs.

"What's the matter?" she said gruffly, a smile on her face as she began to rub the oil into her nipples.

"I just.... It's n-n-..... nothing...."

He looked up and down at the beast of a woman who had begun to expel large globs of pre from her swinging cock all over the carpet.

James couldn't speak. His mouth was dry and yet overflowing with saliva, his body hot and cold, his cock hard and his mind terrified. A million thoughts raced through him as Sheila reached down to do her thighs and calves, bending over to show a new angle of her body.

"Just something to help us relax," she stated, before turning around and slapping a handful on her ass. The two huge globes quivered, the muscle underneath loose before she tightened them in turn, making them bounce like trampolines.

James covered his erection up, feeling a dribble of his own pre-cum make its way down the sides of his shaft as his Aunt continued rubbing oil onto her ass-cheeks. He lost track of time; was it seconds or minutes... hours maybe? After a long time spent oiling her cheeks she brought an end to the theatrics and stood back up, bringing out a different bottle from her bag as she did so, her entire body shining bar the long appendage drooping out from her crotch.

"Always keep lube handy," she said wisely, giving him a wink, "Much better for your genitals, learnt that from experience."

With that, she went to exactly where James knew she would, squeezing a huge dollop of lubricant along her cock like she was glazing a giant iced bun.

James stood feeling emasculated as she worked her organ like a pro, making sure every square inch of it was slick and shining in a combination of her own cum and lubricant. He wanted to speak, to try to make sense of what was going on in his body, but everything was numb, toes curled to grip the carpet in case this was all some sort of fever-dream.

Sheila caressed the protuberance, proud of her assets as she rubbed her breasts, teasing a nipple between two fingers and letting out a groan as she took a few careful strokes up and down her cock.

James' blood thrummed through his body so fast it felt like he was going down a rollercoaster, his hard-on aching, even as his butthole flexed with fear.

"Now you," she said, grabbing both the oil and lube bottles and proffering them in one hand.

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

"Fuckin take it!" she spat, and he grabbed them with trembling hands as she came a touch closer, hands on hips. "Look, You question another word I say, I never show you how to be a man. You'll go on being a girly fag for the rest of your life."

James fell to his knees and began pouring lube and oil at random in a frenzy on his lithe body, and Sheila drank it in as he sobbed, a slippery morsel of a man, sat on his heels.

"Yeah bitch, rub it in."

He emptied the bottles all over himself like he was taking a cold shower, such a feeble expression on his face that he seemed almost cartoonish as he rubbed the mixture across his skin.

When he was done he looked like a laminated sex doll.

'Perfect,' Thought Sheila.

"Good boy.... Now let's fuckin' sleep."

James nodded with eyes down, crawling to his bed, searching for comfort somewhere in the sheets and slipping under the duvet for protection rather than warmth as the room was still sweltering. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would make everything disappear..... Then the bedsprings creaked, and he felt himself being pulled downwards with the displacement of the mattress, a huge weight now in bed with him, before a gigantic arm wrapped itself around his body.

The oily skin was warm against his already heated frame, and he scrunched up his eyelids tighter as more things began pressing against him; huge tits with nipple piercings digging into his back, thighs enveloping his own in walls of muscle. a tongue winding its way down his neck.

"A...Auntie," he whimpered, then gasped as a monstrous length of meat began to sandwich itself between his exposed buttcheeks.

His terror ramped up, and he cried out as the cock wormed its way between his two hills, burying itself in his ass-crack like a giant hot-dog.