The Wardrobe Mistress
by J Manx

I’m very close to Aunt Polly, she’s my mother’s youngest sister. They’re totally different. Polly is outgoing, vivacious, fun-loving and glamorous, while Mum is a home bod, likes cooking and quiet nights in. People have often compared me to my auntie which probably explains why we’re so close. So, it came as a bit of a shock when Polly suddenly announced she was emigrating. It was a bit of a whirlwind thing. Her husband died several years ago. She was devoted to him and I never thought she’d re marry. Then, after several brief affairs, she’d met an Australian and, impulsive as ever, had decided to move down under.

‘I expect you to visit me,’ she said, when I’d expressed my disappointment, ‘we’ve got e-mail and web cams, it’ll seem as though I’m living next door.’

There was an upside. I’d always loved Aunt Polly’s house and she only lived three miles from us. After a long talk with my husband, Mathew, we decided to make an offer. To our delight, Polly accepted and she invited me round to see if there were any bits of furniture I’d like to keep.

When I visited, Polly answered the door with a bottle of wine in her hand. She was dressed in a scruffy shirt and dungarees.

‘Hi sweetheart, I’ve been going through the house, deciding what to take, what to give away and what to throw away. Come on in, I could do with a break.’

The break lasted about two hours as we polished off one bottle of wine and opened another. We discussed the history of the house, Polly’s past relationships and her new Australian boyfriend. I must have sounded a little envious. She turned the conversation to me.

‘So, how are you and Mathew getting on?’

‘Oh, you know, OK, we’ve settled into a sort of comfortable domesticity.’

‘Sex still good?’

‘Polly!’

‘Oh come on love, you can tell me, I’ll be on the other side of the world soon,’ she laughed.

‘Well, what can you expect after five years …? It’s OK.’

‘But it could be a lot better?’

‘Yeah, but I suppose, if I’m honest, things have become a little stale lately, a bit predictable. We don’t get out much any more, we’re both so knackered from work, we just come home and slump in front of the telly.’

Polly smiled. ‘Dangerous times love, dangerous times. Do you still love him?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘The reason I ask is the same thing happened when I was married to your uncle. Without us really noticing, things gradually got very boring. Fortunately, I read a magazine article that described my situation perfectly. It acted as a bit of a wake-up call and I suddenly discovered an unknown erogenous zone that changed everything.’

‘And where’s that?’ I said, intrigued.

‘In here,’ she said, pointing to her head, ‘your brain.’

I laughed.

She smiled.

‘If you learn to use your imagination, you can keep your sex life scintillating. Come on, grab the wine, I want to show you something.’

We went upstairs and she led me to the end of the landing.

‘I call this my wardrobe room,’ she said, opening the door of a large bedroom. Along each wall was an enormous Victorian wardrobe. There were racks of clothes and numerous shoes and boots neatly stacked on the floor.

‘I didn’t know you had so many clothes.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t have seen me in any of these, sweetheart. These clothes are used entirely for sex. I’ve never had so much fun and excitement, dressing up and being fucked.’

I must have looked shocked. Polly looked amused.

‘I promise you, it’s great fun and all men love it … that would include Mathew. Let me show you some of the outfits, I’ll let the clothes do the talking.’

Over the next few hours Polly put on various costumes and outfits, demonstrating the part she played, the way she moved and the effect this had on her lovers. I was amazed at the way she transformed both her character and her personal appearance. Burlesque dancer, maid, teacher, secretary, queen, nurse, doctor, she had numerous outfits and accessories. She looked different in each one.

‘It’s not just about the clothes giving you a different appearance, you take on a different personality as well.’

We’re the same size and Polly got me to try on a few outfits. I felt like a different person with each outfit; powerful, subservient, superior, arrogant, meek. It was great fun and exciting.

‘I’m going to take my favourite pieces with me but if you’re interested I’ll leave you the bulk. If it doesn’t work out you can send the clothes on to me, but I promise you, sweetheart, once you start, it’ll become a lifestyle.’

When we moved I took a week off work and spent several days getting the house up straight. Then, on the third day, needing a bit of a break, I decided to explore the wardrobe room. As I entered the room, I saw, on a little wooden chair, a large, elegantly covered, scrap book. On the front was printed a title:

The Wardrobe Mistress

On top of the book was a letter with my name on it. Inside the letter Polly again described how her hobby had become a passion. ‘This book represents years of work, it will open up a whole new world. Use the ideas, build on them – go on, have faith in your imagination!’

I picked up the book and leafed through the pages. It made fascinating reading. There were detailed descriptions of various fantasies. She’d added little notes when a fantasy had been re-played and improved upon. Perhaps she’d used different language or spoken or acted differently. She may have changed or modified the clothing or added accessories. Polly seemed to have perfected a number of roles. Reading about my aunt’s adventures was both erotic and arousing. I admired her guts but couldn’t see myself dressing up like that, Mathew would just laugh.

Later that day, when Mathew returned home, I was in the bath. Several minutes after his arrival he called out to me, asking if I wanted a drink. A little later, I heard him mounting the stairs and I quickly arranged the foamy bubble bath around me and lay in a seductive pose. He came in with a glass of wine.

‘I’m just going to watch the football, love,’ he said as handed me the glass. He smiled and walked back out. I lay there for a few minutes, disappointed by the lack of interest in my nakedness. Sod it, I thought, we were definitely in a rut and I needed to do something about it. I dried myself and, glass in hand, wandered through to the wardrobe room. I was nervous but excited.

Leafing through Polly’s scrapbook I picked a scenario that wouldn’t prove too taxing for a beginner and read her notes. It was a simple game, I just needed the confidence to carry it off. After a little searching I found the ‘equestrian’ outfit and followed Polly’s guidelines.

First, I hung fine, beaded tassels from my nipples. Then I put on

tight beige riding trousers, followed by a tailored, beige riding jacket. I only buttoned the middle of the jacket, which left plenty of cleavage showing. Next, I put on leather riding boots, scraped back my hair and applied lipstick and eye make up. I put on a hard, black, velvet covered riding cap and, with riding crop in hand, inspected the final result in the mirror. The overall result was a rather haughty look. Although a little nervous, I was also feeling aroused. Strangely, the outfit made me feel rather superior.

I wandered downstairs and entered the lounge where Mathew was watching television. I walked slowly, authoritatively, in front of the television and whacked the riding crop against my buttocks. I’d caught his attention.

‘Do you like the outfit, it’s one of many Aunt Polly left me.’

He looked me up and down.

‘You’ll need a horse if you’re going to take up riding.’

‘Oh, I think I’ve found the animal I want to ride, just need to check it out, make sure I’ve got a stallion with stamina. Stand up.’

Mathew looked bemused but he also looked interested. He stood up.

‘What’s all this about then?’

I walked over to him, stood by his side and tapped his bottom with my crop.

‘Get undressed I’ll need to make a full inspection. Come on, Mathew,’ I said, sternly, ‘haven’t got all day. I want to get some riding done.’

The admonishment further aroused Mathew’s interest. He began stripping and as he did so, I made appreciative noises. When he was fully undressed his cock was half erect. I walked around him, inspecting his naked body. I ran my crop up and down his back and gently tapped his bottom.

‘Mmmm, good flanks, fine legs, good, strong back …’

Mathew’s cock was now fully erect. I ran the tip of the crop slowly up and down its length.

‘That’s beautiful,’ I said. ‘I need a strong, smooth, sturdy saddle when I’m riding. The gentle tapping and stroking with the riding crop was having the desired effect. Mathew let out a little gasp. I was now fully immersed in my new role.

‘I think this stallion needs to get his oats tonight. I’m going to make sure you’re well fed. First of all though, you need a little exercise. Down on all fours!’

Mathew did as he was told. I climbed on his back, took a red, silk scarf from my pocket, leant forward and whispered in his ear.

‘Just need to put some reins on you, don’t want you getting out of control.’

I placed the middle of the scarf in Mathew’s mouth, then sat upright. I held both ends of the scarf in one hand, pulled back his head and gave his bottom a sharp tap with my riding crop.

‘Come on now, a nice gentle ride to begin with.’

I was enjoying myself and thoroughly turned on. Mathew carried me slowly around the living room. The riding trousers I was wearing had been ingeniously adjusted. An opening had been made in the crotch of the trousers. Each side of the opening had been lined with a thin sliver of soft fur. I moved my hand down and pushed my fingers through the fur into my pussy. I played with myself for a little while, enjoying the feeling of Mathew’s back between my legs, massaging me as he carried me around the room. It was time to spoil myself a little more.

‘Whoa, whoa,’ I commanded and Mathew halted. I got off him, removing his silk halter, stood over him and raised his chin with my crop.

‘That was a nice ride. I think you’ll need a little drink now, because soon I’m going to ride you very hard.’

I walked over to a big, soft comfy armchair, sat in it and spread my legs wide, hanging a leg over each side of the armchair. The fur lining between my legs parted revealing my pussy.

‘Come on over here, Beauty.’

Mathew let out a mock whinny and I laughed. He came over on all fours and began to pleasure me, licking and nuzzling my pussy.

‘You are a thirsty stallion,’ I groaned as I felt his tongue and excited breath caressing my pussy. I used my crop to tap his shoulders, giving instructions to speed up or slow down, until he brought me to orgasm. Then I had to put my boots on Mathew’s shoulders and push him away as he was still licking voraciously and I wanted cock, I wanted to ride.

‘Lie down on your back,’ I ordered.

His cock was twitching with excitement. I knelt down astride him, put the silk halter behind his neck and, holding on to the two ends with one hand, I reached back with my other hand and fed his cock into me. We both groaned. I began to move back and forth, holding onto my silk reins with one hand and using the crop on his thigh with the other.

‘Just a gentle canter at first,’ I moaned. ‘Not too fast,’ I commanded as Mathew was beginning to buck beneath me, losing control. I was a little harsher with the crop and he slowed down.

‘That’s better … my, my, this is hard work,’ I panted. ‘I need to cool down a little.’

I undid my jacket and my tasselled tits stood out proud, bouncing up and down. I watched Mathew’s face and felt his body react with excitement. Again, he began to buck beneath me.

‘That’s good, faster, faster.’

Mathew took hold of my hips and turned me over. I didn’t have the strength to stop him and didn’t want to. I was now on my back, legs over his shoulders and he was ferociously pumping into me.

‘Come on stallion, that’s it, take me to the finish line.’

I could hardly get any words out, I was panting so much. As Mathew pumped into me I gripped a cheek of his bottom with one hand and beat the other cheek with my riding crop, screaming out as I reached orgasm. I felt Mathew shudder and his buttocks tighten as he came. He collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.

‘What have you done with my wife?’ he laughed, when he’d recovered. ‘Enjoy it?’

‘That was amazing, darling, thank you.’

I told him all about Aunt Polly’s gift. I took him upstairs and showed him the wardrobe’s contents. He was plainly excited. Since that day our sex life has been wonderful.

Know what? Mathew said he’s going to start his own collection. I’m compiling a list of fantasies for him to think about. I’ve already written down a number of scenarios.

I’ve also added to my own wardrobe.

Once, maybe twice a week I surprise my husband. I ring him at work and utter a sentence that he says makes him instantly hard.

Tonight, Mathew … I am going to be …