The New Landlady

Mrs Carter was my new landlady. A thin, severe looking old lady, I have to admit that moving into her house as a lodger terrified me. I had been given the top floor of the Victorian terrace, I say the 'top floor' but what I actually had was a cold, draughty attic room with a tiny single glazed window. When I had visited a few days earlier it had been a warm late summer day, but since then autumn had taken hold and the chill in the air was palpable. Mrs C had accepted me as a lodger on the provision that I didn't make any noise, or use the kitchen before 9pm. The list of rules covered two sides of A4 in the landlady's tiny, precise handwriting. No eating in bed. No visitors after six p.m. NO SMOKING (this one was triple underlined)... I read the list quickly and was relieved to find no mention of frenzied, frequent masturbation. The thought of sexual pleasure probably hadn't crossed Mrs C's mind since the 1980s. The only other occupant of the house was a girl in her early twenties called Jane. I had yet to meet her but had looked her up online and she was no oil painting, in fact she was really quite ugly, but a female housemate increased the likelihood of me being able to 'acquire' some new female underwear for my collection.

I started to unpack, taking out my meagre set of clothing and putting it in the wardrobe. Once that was done, I sought out my laptop and switched it on, and while it was booting up I started to unpack my suitcase. Gianna, my favourite sex doll came out first, followed by my dildo, penis enlarger and vibrators. I looked around the room for somewhere they could be hidden, but the room was so small I couldn't think of anywhere. The dildo and enlarger went into my sock drawer, covered up. The vibes went in with my pants, and the doll went back in the locked suitcase which went on top of the wardrobe. That only left the bag of panties, bras and swimsuits I had acquired over the years. Hmm... Under the bed?

My laptop had booted, so I logged in and quickly set up my wifi and started to log into my porn sites. The Internet connection was blisteringly fast, and it wasn't long until I was naked and wanking. I hadn't wanked at all that day, so edging was useless; I came within a minute and realised I had nothing to wipe up my cum. I was about to use a sock when I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around in my chair to find Mrs Carter holding out a wad of toilet paper, a wry smile on her face: "Did you enjoy that, you dirty boy?" she asked as I felt my face blush. She bent down and wiped the sticky white mess off my stomach, then took hold of my now limp cock and wiped the cum from it too. I gasped as she rubbed it, then she stood up and crossed the room to my chest of drawers. She opened it and began to take out my toy collection, lining them up on the top:

"My my, you do have a lot of toys, don't you?" she asked me as she unwrapped the dildo, smirking as she compared the large, hard rubber cock to my soft, very small willy. I covered my crotch with my hand and she tutted at me, shaking her head

"No Simon, there's a new house rule." she told me "Anybody with a penis that measures less than eight inches, or in your case MUCH less than eight inches, must be naked and exposed at all times."

"B-b-but..." I stammered in protest, but Mrs Carter went on:

"The only deviation from this rule will be when you are 'entertaining' myself, my guests or your housemate, when you will wear female underwear and any other outfit we deem fit. In return you shall receive hand relief from either myself or Jane on a nightly basis, as long as your conduct is satisfactory. Is that clear?"

I nodded, slowly and reluctantly moving my hand away from my penis. The mention of a nightly handjob had made my willy start to become hard again, slowly raising from flaccid to erect. Mr's C's eyebrows raised in tandem with my little cock.

"Is the little chappy ready to go again? Why don't you show me how some of those toys work...?"