Sissy Aunty Gina - A Smoking Fetish

As I smoked my cigarette, I took out the few items I'd brought with me and placed them in their usual places, enjoying being back at "home" and loving the "feel" of being in our luxurious bedroom. I opened the wardrobe and took from the shelf a pair of five-inch, black stiletto court shoes with ankle straps then sat on the edge of the huge comfy bed and, kicking off my "travelling" shoes, put them on, delighting in the extra inch of heel which made my feet arch almost painfully. The ankle straps were fitted with small padlocks and as I wrapped the straps round each of my slim ankles a surge of pure pleasure rippled through me as I willingly snapped each small silver padlock in turn, locking me into feminine submission, making me so vulnerable and at the mercy of Simon who had the key. It would be he who decided what shoes I could wear and only he could release me when he wished.

As I stood and walked carefully over to the dressing table where my handbag was and to stub out my cigarette, these higher heels made my whole body arch and I knew that I could only mince carefully from now on taking smaller steps, the renewed feeling of sissiness and vulnerability emphasising my "predicament".

I sat at the dressing table, checked my hair, added a mist of hairspray to my hair and more perfume from the large bottle before me. I applied another coat of the glossy red lipstick and took out another cigarette and gratefully lit it, deeply inhaling the mixture of cigarette smoke and feminine scents. I admired my look as Gina and relished the cigarette smoke within me and the sight of my cigarette looking so femininely held by my red-tipped fingers. I smiled at my image in delight, and taking my handbag, stood and left our bedroom, cautiously descending the stairs.

As I entered the sitting room, Simon was beaming, obviously so happy to see me and I smiled lovingly as I teetered over to him as he sat back in the huge, comfortable sofa. "You sit there, darling, I'll go and make the tea and then we can have a nice little chat."

"Okay, aunty Gina," he replied as he watched me walking on highest heels through to the kitchen.

I looked back over my shoulder, giving him a stern look and pointing with my cigarette-holding fingers, "and you can stop that now, you naughty lad," I said as I'd seen Simon slip one hand into the top of his jogging bottoms and slide down to fondle his crotch.

He beamed back at me as he ogled my legs and bottom, admiring my exposed stocking tops as I walked taking tiny steps in the extreme heels. "Okay, sorry aunty," he said as he pulled out his hand and then rubbed his very noticeable erection as if to say, "this is all yours, and you're going to get it!"

With cigarette dangling between my red lips I made the tea in the kitchen and poured a mug for Simon and a china teacup and saucer for myself, placed them on a tray and taking extreme care not to spill them, walked over to Simon and placed them on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I sat down next to Simon and passed him his mug. Simon put an arm round me as I took my cup and saucer and I sat back into his warm embrace. I took a deep, double drag on my cigarette before I took a sip of the tea and told him, "it's lovely being back here again, darling, I do miss you so much, you know."

"I just love having you here, aunty," he replied with a wink.

"You can cut that out, you naughty boy, I've told you before that you have to control yourself," I warned him. "Now tell me what you've been up to this week?" I asked, trying to deflect his thoughts.

As we chatted I smoked my cigarettes and after each one reapplied my lipstick, as that's what we both particularly like, as there's no point wearing lipstick if it's not fresh and noticeable. Simon told me about his work at the building firm which he owned and I chatted about my pretended alter-ego life as the manageress of a ladies lingerie shop, something which we were now both fluent in as part of our loving scenarios.

I loved the way that Simon was so attentive to me, holding me, letting me know that I was his woman, his gaze never leaving my face, especially when I took long, sensual drags on my cigarettes and I casually exhaled the smoke as I talked to him telling him in minute detail about the fitting for corsetry and bras, panties and stockings which my job of manageress entailed. After each cigarette I took a mirror from my handbag and gave it to Simon to hold, as I reapplied more Pillarbox Red lipstick after carefully relining my lips with lip-liner pencil. Simon of course took my lighter and insisted that he light my cigarette for me and I thanked him for his attentiveness. Of course I knew that his motive was one of pure fetish delight, he adored my cigarette smoking, was addicted to it as I was, and I knew that my feminine smoking, talking of my "job" and even pretend meetings and chats I'd had with his mother, was only serving to increase his excitement and the barely concealed raging hard-on he had inside his joggers!

After another cup of tea (which of course meant me having to walk through to the kitchen, teetering on my highest stilettos and giving Simon another feast of my wriggling bottom, exposed stocking tops and the image of me simply walking with cigarette in hand (my arms helping to keep my balance as a true sissy should) as I placed down my china teacup, delightfully stained with lipstick prints around the edges. Simon pulled me roughly to him into a strong embrace. I took a long drag on my cigarette and inhaled deeply. With cigarette smoke exhaling as I spoke, I said to him, "now, now Simon, you promised to be a good boy for aunty, didn't you," but before I could continue, Simon pulled me closer and clamped his warm mouth over mine and started to kiss me deeply, forcing his strong, wet tongue inside my mouth, breathing in and savouring my cigarette smoke and cigarette breath.

I struggled and tried to protest, but my lover held me tightly and his insistently probing tongue and warm, wet lips only allowed me to make muffled, angry-sounding noises. Simon held me clamped in his strong arms as he forced his kisses on me and I truly could not escape his advances and I was like putty in his arms. After a few minutes, Simon broke off the kiss. I pretended to be very angry with him as I stubbed out my cigarette and sat on the edge of the sofa and reached for my handbag. "You had no right to do that to me, Simon," I protested. "You promised to be a good boy for aunty Gina this weekend, and now you messed up all my makeup! My face will look such a mess and now I've got to re-do it to look pretty," I insisted as I reached out for my handbag and took out various items.

We both loved the reapplication of my heavy makeup style and I know that Simon would be besotted with me as I started to fix my makeup with foundation, powder, a little more eyeshadow and eyeliner and of course lip-liner and more bright red glossy lipstick. Simon held my makeup mirror and watched intently as I recreated my over-the-top makeup style and I glimpsed that he was "secretly" playing with his cock inside his joggers with his free hand. As a special treat for him (and me!) I took out some "Intense Volume" black mascara and applied two coats to my false eyelashes, making them thick and really slutty, so I could really feel them as I batted my eyelashes and also re-lined my eyes with the thick, black kohl liner. I then applied another coat of thick, red lipstick onto my full lips and put all my makeup back into my handbag which I'd placed in Simon's lap.

He was almost panting with desire as I took out my cigarettes and lighter and passed the lighter to him. Placing the cigarette between my thickly-coated lips I turned to face him enjoying the effect I had on him. With the unlit cigarette bobbing as I spoke, I said, "now that you've calmed down a bit dearie, be a good boy and give me a light, please." As Simon lit my cigarette I inhaled deeply, leaving the cigarette dangling between my lips, I said, with smoke leaking from my mouth "I know you've been playing with your thingy as I was fixing my makeup, you naughty boy, I saw you," I rebuked him, "and I've told you that aunty Gina has no interest in that sort of thing," I further explained. "I'm too old to be bothered with that sort of thing," I said as I took a deep drag and inhale on my cigarette and held then it femininely between outstretched fingers, giving Simon a close view of my long, red finger nails and the delightful contrast of the white of the cigarettes which we both loved.

Taking another deep, double drag on the cigarette I knew that my lover was watching as I leisurely sucked on the filter, the creases of my heavily made-up face and lips wrapping round the filter accentuating my ageing, wrinkled skin.

Simon's gaze never left my face as I spoke and he placed his hand directly onto my stocking-clad thigh and began to stroke the sheer nylon, exploring the stocking tops and garters taught against my soft thigh. "And you can stop that as well," I protested as I tried to stop him from fondling my shiny, soft, nylon-clad legs.

I could see that he was getting really excited now, almost unbearably so, caused deliberately by my display of feminine "teasing" and my smoking and putting on of more makeup. His breathing was getting heavier and his fondling, even though I protested, was becoming more insistent until, just as I'd taken a deep inhale of my cigarette, he said, "Sorry aunty, but I'm going to fuck you!"

I pretended to look shocked at these crude words and I protested, just managing to say, "no you're bloody not, you nasty boy!" as he pulled me round with his powerful arms and pushed me face-down onto the sofa holding me there with a big, forceful hand in my back. I was pinned face-down with my skirt riding up, my heels trying to kick out but being careful not to actually hurt him.

I protested loudly, shouting, "No, Simon, no, please don't do this, get off me you bastard. No! No! Let me go now and I'll not tell your mother about this!" I cajoled.

Simon had no intention of letting me go from his control and standing, he spun me round so that my legs hung down in front of the sofa. I struggled in his controlling grip and couldn't even twist my body to escape. I felt the back of my skirt being pulled up to my waist and my lovely satin panties were literally ripped off me exposing my soft, warm, rounded bottom to my ravager's gaze. I knew that Simon was admiring the warm roundedness of my bottom cheeks, the sight of my seamed stocking tops leading his gaze from the stiletto heels of my shoes upwards to the object of his desires at this moment, my tight arse hole, unseen and unused since last weekend.

I felt my legs being spread apart as Simon knelt and positioned himself between them. I took a long, slutty, delightfully deep drag on my cigarette, savouring the smoke deep within me and losing myself in the picture of myself; still smoking like a slut, stocking-clad legs forced apart, a woman almost twice his age, about to be forcibly ravished and used and being locked into the extreme heels I was wearing, unable to run away or escape and be brutally ravished by a powerful man simply for his pleasure. To be fucked by his big cock and bred like a slut. I was in heaven!

I struggled and tried to escape Simon's vice-like grip on me, his hand in my back holding me down almost without effort.

I still protested, shouting, "No, Simon, no you naughty bastard, you're not going to use me! Please Simon, please don't do this to me, please!" I begged to no avail. I could tell that Simon had pulled down his joggers and I heard him spit to lubricate his cock. I could hear him slowly wanking his cock and even though I craved it, I knew that this first fucking would stretch me to the fullest, as his cock was huge compared to my petite frame and tight arse and that it would really hurt me, just as our fetish scenario was indeed supposed to do.

I took a long deep drag on my cigarette and Simon said, "yes, that's it aunty, smoke like the fucking slut you are! You know you want it and so I'm going to fuck you hard in the arse like the slut you are deserves," as his huge, warm hand delighted in fondling my stocking-tops and warm, rounded bottom.

I felt a gob of spit land between my bottom cheeks and slowly run down the crack as Simon forced himself harder between my legs, spreading them, my knees on the floor and my legs flailing wildly, my stiletto heels not finding the soft flesh of my attacker.

I flinched as I felt one of Simon's thick fingers against the tender, soft, swelling of my arse hole and moaned with pleasure, breathing out a cloud of cigarette smoke as he carefully, but forcefully started to probe my intimate hole with his thick finger, working the lubrication of his spit into me, opening me up and forcing me to relax. I tried to clench my arse tight as I continued to protest, shouting, "No, Simon, no, no, please don't fuck me, I'm going to tell your mother about this, you naughty boy, let me go you bastard" I pleaded.

Simon continued to probe my little, tight arse hole with his finger, pushing it deep inside me making me squirm with both pleasure and some pain, and I was glad for the lubricant I'd injected well up into my bowels after the enema cleansing I'd taken that morning. I was grateful that the lubricant would work it's way down slowly and ease the painful fucking I was about to receive. I took another deep drag on my cigarette and Simon realised that I'd nearly smoked my cigarette and that the ash had fallen due to my rough treatment, onto the sofa.

Swapping the strong hand holding me down, he took the cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, delved into my handbag and took my packet of cigarettes, extracted one and stuck it between my lips saying, "there, you fucking smoking slag, you're going to smoke as I fuck you, and you know you're going to enjoy every one with my cock deep inside you, you dirty old bitch!"

I needed the cigarette but pretended not to, saying, "I'm not going to smoke for a nasty, fucking pervert like you, Simon!"

My protest unheeded, Simon put the lit lighter to my cigarette and I sucked deeply and gratefully on the filter, inhaling the beautiful smoke deep within my body. I am that slag, that old slag who looks like a whore, but pretends she isn't, that old slag who will smoke her cigarette and take cock in her arse just to give a man pleasure. The slag who loves it, lives to be a smoking old whore simply to be used with no say, when or where she is to take cock. Dominated and totally defenceless, unable to run for escape, her only option being to enjoy her cigarettes and be used by her superior lover. I admired the lipstick staining of the cigarette's filter and knew that life couldn't get better than this for me. A sissy Heaven.

As I sucked deeply on my cigarette, protesting was now futile, though I kept uttering "No, no, no, no!" as Simon probed deep within me and I heard him get more spit to drip onto his cock.

The strong, fat finger in my arse was slowly withdrawn and I knew that he was slowly wanking his cock ready to force it's way inside me and start to fuck me. I took a satisfying drag on my cigarette and relaxed my arse ready for the onslaught. I took another drag and inhaled deeply filling my body with the comforting smoke and felt the firm, rounded head of Simon's cock against my puckered hole. "Oh, God," I thought, now I'm going to be my lover's sissy wife again, my body aching once more for the fulfilment and my body shivering with excitement.

"No, no, no," I again protested but feebly this time, knowing that as a smoking slag I had to accept my fate. I took a drag on my cigarette as the head of Simon's big cock pushed into me and spread my arse hole wide, painfully for real, making me gasp out a lungful of cigarette smoke as the warm, hardness forced itself slowly and inexorably, deep with in my tight, abused hole.

Simon withdrew his cock a little, to get comfortable and to pull back his foreskin inside me, allowing him to push deep and get all of his lovely, hard cock all the way into my arse right up to his big, hairy balls. My arse was fully stretched and I could feel all of his cock's length deep in my rectum. He moaned with pleasure as he got so deep into me. He knew he was stretching me fully and hurting me some for real, but it was his pleasure that I was here for and he was going to enjoy it.

As I took a comforting drag on my cigarette, Simon leered, "Yes you dirty, old, fuck-slut, smoke your cigarettes as I have my big, fat cock up inside your arse, you fucking slag!" and then he began to fuck me properly, thrusting slowly, long and deep, forcing his cock as far into my bowels as he could get, pulling almost out but never doing so, simply making his next, slow, deep thrust as pleasurable for him as he could make it.

After a few minutes of being fucked, my arse relaxed and the aching, glorious feeling of a fully-stretched rectum that every good sissy craves, was taken over by a euphoria, a pleasurable surrendering to the inevitable, the giving to a strong, dominating, real man, the most intimate part of my body, filled stretchingly deep with a real man's cock, surrendering for his pleasure and being grateful to be used by him, my arse and bowels his property to fuck as he wished.

I could not escape Simon's vice-like grip and I was forced face-down to be fucked so Simon fucked me slowly, expertly, as I smoked my cigarette like the slut I was and his simple need to fuck me hard and cum took over. Simon took me with both of his big, strong hand and gripped my waist, pulling me onto his cock as fucked me. I was still unable to escape his ravishment of my arse but I once again protested, with a now breathless, "No, no, no please don't fuck me!" as he started to fuck me faster and harder, his balls slamming and slapping against me as he rammed his cock deep inside me. I felt as if I was like a rag doll, unable to escape, being used by this strong man and my tight hole impaled deeply on his cock. I sucked feverishly on my cigarette and enjoyed the comforting fullness of the smoke within me in an effort to experience every last second of my being, my rectum completely filled with cock and my tight arse fully stretched around my lover's cock.

At last Simon was ramming me deeply, hard and fast and moaning with pent-up pleasure and the need to cum. With a final deep hard thrust he orgasmed, filling my rectum with his beautiful, thick, salty sperm. I felt each spasm as he came and could feel his warm spunk filling me. I was whole. My man had used me as he wished. His sissy slut had no option but to fucked. I had been fucked. I had been bred like the slut I was, against my will, ravaged as a whore, my lover's old, slutty, smoking woman.

Simon continued to fuck me, his spasms becoming less feverish and demanding as he drained his balls within my willing body until he slumped down upon my back, his hands caressing my stocking-clad thighs. "Oh, Simon, dear, you naughty boy," I moaned, "you must try to control yourself. We've talked about this before," I added as his cock began to shrink and slowly withdraw from my abused arse. "Aunty is too old for this sort of thing," I pretended to admonish him, "and her little bottom is no place for a man's nasty thingy at any time, never mind being filled with stinking man-juice," I added enjoying Simon's weight pressing me down into the leather of the sofa.

"Oh aunty," he replied, "God, that was fucking good. I really needed that," he smiled, "but just the sight of you gets me going so much, it's all I want to do," he said as his cock slipped from my abused hole. I could feel his sticky sperm ooze from my anus and start to run down and onto my tight, little ball-sack. He pushed himself up and knelt back admiring his sissy-slut's well-bred, abused hole leaking his man-juices. He had bred me and he owned me. I took a last long double drag on my cigarette and half turned to look at him. He had a huge grin on his face -- my man was so happy!