What's new

Age Progression Emily Becomes Edna (AP - Age Progression) by Violet-C

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter One

Emily Anderson stared at the blank screen of her laptop frustratingly willing it back to life, but for some reason it was completely dead. Hopefully her husband Simon would be able to sort it out when he returned from work at the Mayfair based Hedge fund where he worked. Although he was more likely to give up after five minutes and just tell her to buy another after all this year his bonus would get into seven figures for the first time and in addition to the Notting Hill dream home where Emily currently bashed the lifeless keyboard they’d agreed when the bonus came that they’d buy themselves a holiday home, probably near Marbella.

She carefully eased herself down from the bar stool at their kitchen island, Bottega Veneta heels clicking across the marble floor to Simon’s small home office and booted up his i-Mac waiting to log-on to her Pret-a-Porter account for her daily designer shopping fix when she was too lazy to head to Bond Street. A Pinterest reminder flashed up in the corner and as she meant to click ignore, her mouse accidentally opened the page. Images of elderly ladies and matronly type women appeared, they were fully clothed but obviously old! How very strange; she thought to herself, thinking it must be just some random link. However she couldn't quite put it put of her mind and for the first time ever she decided to look at his browsing history. She’d always trusted Simon totally and at least until very recently they’d always had great sex, in every conceivable position, and he was the best fuck she’d ever had and as well as being quite a hunk, he was fast becoming seriously wealthy, but after five years of marriage she had to accept that sex just wasn’t quite as exciting as it had been, but she loved him completely and would do anything to make him happy.

The history opened and most of it was the typical boring news and financial sites she’d expected to find, but then she saw something called “The Changing Mirror” and a whole new world opened up in front of her. He’d looked at various fiction on there and been engaged in some chat room activity. There was an amazing emphasis on downgrading and attractive women making themselves fatter or cheaper looking, even by choice and some even concerning Age Progression which she felt was beyond weird, but she felt drawn in and couldn't help reading further. Some two hours later she finally switched off the machine having not looked at Net-a-Porter once. She’d kicked off her heels and felt strangely stimulated by this weird universe that she had no idea existed but was obviously of peculiar interest to her husband.

By the time she’d switched off she had no doubt that Simon was attracted to or at least very interested in the concept of women getting older, but seemingly not just mature but positively elderly, retirement age and upwards. This was beyond weird!

He always respected her for being so outspoken, as well as obviously fancying her gorgeous long legs and long blond hair, but she would speak to him that evening! But exactly how she would get this into the conversation she wasn’t sure.

A little before 8pm he arrived. She’d cooked a Coq-Au-Vin and opened a bottle of chilled Chablis. After a few minutes of boring work talk something about him shorting some property company (it was meaningless to her) she asked him the big question.

“Simon darling, will you still find me attractive when I’m old? What if my hair went white and I had varicose veins etc. would you still love me then or would you leave me for a younger model like most of your senior work colleagues seem to have done with their first wives.”

What on earth do you mean, of course I’ll always love you” he replied somewhat hesitantly.

“Well its just that I thought back to your office Christmas party last year and I think there were only three wives there that were actually married to men of roughly their own age and the others were all the second wives of older men. In fact the most senior woman in your company, Elizabeth Fitzgerald who must be 60 if she’s a day even had a toy boy in tow. I mean when will you be looking for someone else”

“Emm where’s all this nonsense come from, you know its you and me forever”

“Really, even when I’m old and grey?”

“I’ll love you even more then” he commented.

“What so you’d actually like me to be old?” I noticed a definite reddening of his cheeks and unmistakable bulging in has pants.

“He is genuinely getting turned on by the thought of me being old” I thought to myself. “How very strange!”

We finished the bottle of wine and were soon in bed getting ready for sex and so I jokingly referred to myself as his old lady and soon we were having the best sex for months. I joked afterwards that I hoped he’d be able to keep that up even when I was old and grey and he actually wanted more!

The next morning after my usual workout in the gym on the spur of the moment I decided to book a hair appointment.

Shortly afterwards I walked out of the Sloane Square salon and hailed a cab with my new silver grey mane, hair cut just two or three inches shorter. Tim my usual stylist thought nothing of it, as over the last couple of years girls of all ages had been dying their hair all manor of shades from aquamarine to pink and many had gone for the silver grey look that I now sported.

I wondered if this would be enough to turn Simon on even more when he saw me that evening. As much as I loved him for his good looks and his cash, it was actually great sex that got me high more than anything else. Since I lost my virginity at 15 and sleeping my way through university, I’d never met anyone as good in bed as Simon and I knew I’d do anything to keep him.

I got home put on my super tight black Azzedine Aleia knee length dress and my four inch Laboutin stilettoes. I looked something like cross between Marilyn Monroe and Anne Bancroft in The Graduate.

Simon walked through the door and virtually raped me over the kitchen table. We’d always had great sex but this was actually amazing.

“Wow I love you as the older woman” he moaned as he came inside me for the third time!

“God that was good” I breathily sighed

“You really are turned on by older women aren’t you”

“Yes I guess I am” he admitted.

“Is that sick? Am I going mad?”

“No Simon, we all have our kinks and I guess we’ll never know how they got into our crazy heads. You know I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy don’t you?”

I was obviously still on a post coital high, my mind racing as to where this might lead.
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter Two

I lay in bed, the next morning. Simon had left for work at 6.30 as usual. He always stopped by the gym for a 45 minute workout first and was always at his desk by 8. It was now almost 9 and I still lay there, vision blurred, as I hadn’t yet put my contacts in and exhausted by the previous night’s incredible sex.

I reached over to the bedside table and put my glasses on. I so rarely wore them and looked at myself in the mirror I had real just fucked hair and looked not old but mature with my new colour and the specs.

I tried hard to figure our what went on last night. I’d never experienced sex like it. Simon was so incredibly turned on. He’d always been the best screw I’d ever had but last night was on another level entirely, I actually orgasmed three times. I didn’t know what was going on in Simon’s head but it was certainly doing all the right things to his dick. If dying my hair was all it took to get fucked like that, where else could this fantasy take us?

I finally rose at 9.30, wrapping my ivory silk Agent Provocateur robe around me and headed to the shower where I fingered my newly shaven pussy and fantasised some more.
I left the house simply for a wander around Notting Hill and feeling how just in the last two or three years more of the high street chains were moving in, gradually displacing the independent boutiques and small antique shops that had originally given the area its funky charm, I suppose Simon and I were actually symptomatic of the newly wealthy residents replacing the hipsters and media types of the past.

Then it suddenly dawned on me, Trendco; probably London’s best wig shop was practically on my doorstep, many times I’d half heartedly stared at its window considering coming home with a completely different image to see the affect it would have on Simon. Now of course, I knew full well the answer to that question. I walked towards it, took a deep breath and nervously pushed open the door having first glanced over my shoulder in case anyone I knew happened to be passing.

Behind the reception desk sat a gorgeous girl, probably a few years younger than me wearing a jet black bobbed wig and the brightest red lipstick, looking like a dead ringer for Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction.

“Hi” she smiled. “Do you have an appointment?”

That threw me slightly. “No I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed one. I just came in to browse”

“Oh, that’s fine, just let me know if you want to try anything on. I’m sure someone will be able to assist you”

“Thanks, I’m going to a fancy dress party soon and need a different look”

“Perhaps you want one of the party shops, for that. Our wigs are quite expensive for just a one off party”

“Well I’ll just take a look” I replied knowing that for what I had in mind money was no object.

I stared at the various wigs on their mannequin heads, most looking far too glamorous for what I had in mind when my eyes finally saw exactly what I was after. It was called Basel in dark grey, a perm with slight fringe and waved at the sides coming to about chin length. No woman under 70 would be seen dead with hair like that.

“Can I try this?” I asked feeling my cheeks reddening.

“Of course, we are going for a different look aren’t we?” said the girl from behind the counter, who I now noticed was wearing a badge which said “Toni” I wasn’t entirely sure if that was her name or the name of the wig she was wearing.

“Yes I’m going as a glamorous grannie” I commented, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Well you’ll certainly look glamorous, but I don’t think you’d pass for a Grannie” she replied.

“Thanks”

She told me to sit still whilst she squeezed a flesh coloured wig cap over my natural hair, images of bank robbers coming to mind and then stretched the wig over the top of that. She seemed to take forever fluffing it out with her wide tooted wig comb when all I wanted to do was stare at the new mature image looking back at me in the mirror. I could feel my cheeks blushing and a slight tingle in my expensive silk underwear. “Wow” I said. Not entirely sure of that was me getting turned on by the wig or the thought of what it might do to Simon. It felt tight around the top of my hairline but what was a bit of discomfort to suffer for the effect I hoped it would have on Simon!

“This is perfect” I practically yelped. “Really” said the girl no doubt adding the commission up in her head at the thought of this rather unexpected sale!

“I’ll definitely take it” I replied

Ten minutes later I left the shop with a discrete black plastic bag, containing my wig, two wig caps, wig comb and cleaning spray and with my credit card having taken close to a £300 hit. I could barely contain my excitement and walked home for the first time in my life actually looking carefully at any woman in her 70s, who would normally be quite invisible to me. I would usually be looking enviously at anyone carrying a Hermes Kelly bag or similarly high priced designer item, but today my thoughts were far more cheap high street than designer boutique.

I raced home, turning the key and turning off the burglar alarm and scarpered up stairs to my bedroom kicking off my heels on the way. I flung my Burberry trench on the bed and sat staring at the undoubtedly sexy looking woman staring back at me in my dressing table mirror.

I pulled my shoulder length silver hair into a pony tail pulled it up tight at the nape of my neck and squeezed the wig cap over it. I then opened the shoe-box sized box on my lap, removed the wig from its small net bag and shook it out before stretching it over my head. I looked at myself, certainly not a grannie but definitely mature. I combed it through with the new wig comb, not quite achieving the look that the shop assistant had achieved, but that was fine. I wasn’t after perfection. I was still far too young looking for the wig, so I took my lenses out and popped on my Dior librarian style glasses and at least I was half way presentable as the new me.

I walked around the room in my bare feet wearing my baggy jeans with the ripped knee and navy blue silk shirt staring at myself whenever possible, thinking about the incongruity of my appearance.

The rest of day seemed to drag on forever as I desperately waited for Simon to come home dreaming of the effect the wig would have on him or wondering if he’d think I’d lost my mind completely. In fact I twice took it off thinking I was crazy before the temptation and anticipation returned and I put it back on. I also noticed the thick groove it had left in the top of my forehead and wondered how long that would last and if I did keep the wig off, I’d somehow have to cover it with my natural hair, but as I didn’t have a fringe that wasn’t going to be easy. So the wig went back on as I waited for his return.

Finally the key turned in the door as I stood in the kitchen, glass of Chardonnay in my hand.

“Young man” I jokingly called. “I’m in the kitchen”

He stood staring at me open mouthed and then said

“What have you done is that your hair?”

I panicked thinking I’d made a terrible mistake, before mumbling “No it's a wig, you stupid boy, what do you think of your new older woman”

“I think I’m the luckiest man in the world” before lifting me up in his muscular arms and carrying me upstairs for another bout of absolutely amazing sex. This was so good, dinner would just have to wait.
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter Three

I dried myself off after my shower in the gym, absolutely exhausted having signed up for the hardest spinning class on the timetable. I knew that pushing myself to the limit would be the only way I’d be able to get over the night before. Simon was simply incredible and I realised how lucky I was to have him. Our sex had always been good but how he’d managed to keep this fantasy hidden from me for so long was amazing. I thought back over conversations we’d had and other than the occasional comment about “Always loving me forever and ever” which I just took as something he ‘d said to make me happy, there was never the merest hint of what must have been going on inside his head. Anyway I would put that out of my mind as best I could for the time being. The other wonderful news was that next week we’d be flying to Malaga. His bonus had been confirmed for the end of the month and we’d spend a few days in the sun, combined with some property porn and even a potential purchase in Marbella or close by.

The next few days flew by as I bought a few extra clothes for the holiday and we had sex with me both in and out of the wig, but there was no doubt that it was the image of me in the wig that really got him excited. When I wore the wig the sex was as good as I’d ever had but I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to put that on every time I felt randy over the next 30 odd years. So I did have that slight nagging doubt in the back of my mind as to where all this might be heading.

We landed in Malaga and even in March the difference in temperature compared to London was quite something. Not exactly the take your breath away moment when you emerge from an aircraft in the Med in July or August, but hot nonetheless.

We had a wonderful apartment for the week with use of a shared pool, but with few other people in residence in the complex, we often had it all to ourselves and having a bottle of chilled Cava beside the pool as you took a dip to cool off, was quite something. Feeling Simon’s hands running down my lower back and under my swimsuit was also always pretty thrilling.

We viewed property after property, but nothing that really turned us on and we had sex most nights and then although we hadn’t had much to drink on the last night, despite my playing with him for an age, Simon just couldn’t get an erection. I obviously told him that it didn’t matter and that we always had great sex and that after more than six years together it was amazing that it had never happened once until now.

Although I comforted him as much as I could, pulling faces to make him laugh, he was devastated and deep down so was I, as much as I tried to hide it. When I went to university I’d already had sex a few times and then remember my first experience with a student who also failed miserably in the bedroom. I remember being so catty at the time, I probably completely ruined his sex-life forever and occasionally I still shivered at the thought of what I’d said that night and now felt so ashamed and sorry for that poor young boy. I did hope that the same wasn’t going to happen with Simon, but also deep down knew that I’d always be able to turn him on with my that grey wig, but wondered if that was all it would take! Anyway for now that would have to wait as we had a flight to catch.

A few minutes after returning home from Heathrow I ran upstairs wearing my wedge sandals, tied my hair up and put on the wig. I called down to him and the effect was immediate as I saw the bulge appear in his chinos. That was good but also slightly alarming. I felt that I really had rather recklessly unleashed the Genie from the bottle.

There was no doubting that Simon was becoming increasingly turned on either by older women or the concept of me as an older woman. I wasn’t sure which yet and as long as he continued to love me and continue to perform I wasn’t necessarily too concerned but I didn’t really fancy the prospect of disguising myself as some old hag just to satisfy my husband. Before too long we would really need a heart to heart about this. I needed some clarity as to where our marriage was heading. Anyway as those thoughts raced through my mind Simon became increasingly turned on fingering my nipples under my strappy summer dress which had been perfect for Spain but a little flimsy for London in March.

The next few weeks seemed to slip by, but there was no escaping the fact that although he hadn't failed to perform again as he had that one night in Spain. He only seemed really satisfied when I wore that damned wig. I needed to really test him so one night I put on my black basque and black seemed stockings and suspenders. I slipped a tight back dress over the top that was long enough to cover my stocking tops unless I crossed my legs a little carelessly and when Simon held me he could feel the slight boning of the bask below my dress. This had always turned him on in the past and coupled with the seemed stockings and killer heels I knew it couldn’t fail. But no nothing! He was simply going through the motions of holding me and kissing my neck. He could turn me on instantly but for some reason I was no longer having the same affect on him. I could have cried. And very nearly did. I pushed him away to cries of:

“Darling what’s wrong” from him, but we both knew exactly what the matter was.

“Simon I don’t want to lose you but let’s face it, its obvious you no longer fancy me”

“That’s not true” he pleaded but to no avail.

Eventually I just stormed off to bed not knowing what to do. I loved him desperately and didn’t want to give up on our marriage. Of course the most worrying thing was I knew exactly what I had to do to save it. The question was just how far did I actually have to go to do that and was I really prepared to go as far as I might have to to keep him?
Violet-CMember Posts: 48Joined: Tue Apr 17, 2018 1:10 am
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter Four

After a fitful night’s sleep with neither of us much in the mood to touch each other I got up at the same time as Simon and I watched him dry himself off and get dressed for work.

“Simon” I nervously began. “You know I love you more than anything don’t you? I don’t want you to worry that I’m going to walk out on you or anything like that. I just want to make you happy”

“Thank you” he replied somewhat sheepishly.

“I’ve never doubted that for one moment, but this crazy fetish that seemed to be stuck in my brain could ruin everything”

“Its all going to be okay, please don’t fret” I reminded him. Knowing what I had in mind could well be a kill or cure for our marriage. He soon left for the gym that he always stopped off at on the way to work and I made my way to my hardcore spinning class, my mind going over the plans that were still taking shape in my head. Standing in front of the mirror I briefly admired my firm 28 year-old body. How could Simon no longer find me attractive? Long slim legs, trim waste, small but firm perky breasts and just noticeable muscle tone on my legs and upper arms. Other than my breasts being a little small for some guys, I really felt I had a great body.

“Men are very strange creatures” I thought to myself.

Once changed into my jeans and chunky heeled ankle boots I headed into the west end for some retail therapy. But this was going to be a very different shopping trip to any I’d been on before.

Most women in the UK apparently bought their underwear in Marks & Spencer’s, but their attempt at sexy never quite worked for me and their bras never quite fitted, but today that would be fine. One of the things I knew that they did do well was underwear for the mature woman without a hint of sexiness.

A few minutes later I left with the most unflattering pair of white cotton knickers I’d ever worn in my life. Even worse than what we were forced to wear in boarding school and also a white cotton vest. I bought both in a size 10 rather than my usual eight. I wasn’t planning on gaining any weight, but I wanted them to be loose and as unflattering as possible.

That night when Simon returned home I greeted him wearing a baggy pink jumper that I’d hardly ever worn and should have given to the charity shop ages ago, baggy grey sweat pants and white ballet pumps (I practically never wore flats!). Of course underneath I wore what I hoped would be my new killer underwear, which with the loose fitting sweat pants kept falling down over my hips and of course my wig and glasses. I’d also removed all my make-up shortly before he got back, so I was virtually unrecognizable.

“Young man, come into the kitchen!” I called out trying to put on a slightly stern and mature tone.

He walked in and the effect was immediate and when he slid his hands under the sweatband and felt the elasticated top of my white cotton knickers he was like an animal. It was all I could do to slow him down before he virtually raped me in the kitchen.

“Wow, if this is all it takes to get this reaction why and I spent all that money on sexy underwear and expensive heels in the past” I thought to myself. Then of course I remembered, those were for me, these are for my man.

I felt that life was good and perhaps I could have some fun here. Without ever having really been into any serious S&M I’d always known I’d been the sub in this relationship. But I suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of power that was so sexually charged, I could tell that a whole new side of me had suddenly been awakened. I could have great sex and have total control over my man, just by wearing this strange unsexy outfit. I was going to have a whole lot of fun here.
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter Five

At the gym the next day I was like a woman possessed even Clyde the instructor was impressed, commenting on how hard I was working and that I was looking really good. I knew he was flirting with me and that he had quite a reputation in the gym so I made small talk whilst ensuring my wedding ring was clearly on display. After a double espresso in the small hipster café across the road from the gym I was ready for my fun day of bargain shopping. Today was going to be nothing like any previous shopping expedition. There were no designer boutiques and not really any department stores on my radar. For the first time since I’d been a student looking for some suitably grungy wear I was going charity shopping.

I couldn’t believe it, but two hours later having only spent about £30, not much more than I would normally spend on a pair of tights I had quite a wardrobe.
I had an awful beige pleated A-Line skirt that came to just below the knee, a burgundy loose fitting cardigan and two horrific blouses with bows at the neck, one in fuschia pink and the other in pale lavender. They were absolutely hideous and again I’d managed the get the blouses and cardigan in one size too big. I didn’t want anything figure hugging.

I completed my purchases with an awful pair of cream coloured sandals in fake leather with rubber moulded soles and a slight wedge heel of no more than an inch in height and ghastly cross over straps revealing a small peep toe opening. They were pure granny sandals. It then dawned on me that almost all my tights were sheer black or black opaques and they wouldn't work at all. So I managed to buy some ghastly 40 denier Elbeo support tights in large size. I had visions of the odd wrinkle around the ankle, which I hoped would either cure Simon of this crazy fantasy or completely have him at my mercy. Either way I couldn’t really lose.

I got home loaded down by my new purchases and made my way up to our bedroom to have some slightly alternative fun.

I removed my ankle boots and took my navy blue suede biker jacket off and stood admiring myself in my full-length mirror. I then drew the curtains on both bedroom windows and turned on the light. I slipped off my ivory silk vest and then peeled off my skin tight jeans leaving me in a pair of high rise ivory silk knickers and matching padded bra. Yes my body was definitely looking good and you could barely spot the black dot that remained of my previously foolish navel piercing in my abdomen. I pulled my hair back into a pony-tail and removed my grey permed wig and wig cap from their box. I played with the wig for a few minutes but didn’t want it to look too perfect and removed all my makeup and took my lenses out. I put my glasses on thinking that they really were too trendy for the wig and I would need to do something about that soon if this was to go on any longer.

I then put on my loose fitting white vest and baggy cotton knickers before removing the support tights from their packaging. Stretching them out up my arm and admiring their very off-putting pale coffee colour as they stretched across my skin. I then proceeded to unroll them up my left leg stopping just above the knee before repeating the process with my right leg and then stretched them over my hips I was instantly satisfied with my decision to buy the larger size as they immediately left a slight sagging at the knee and ankle. Anyone else would be immediately turned off by my shapely legs clad in this exceptionally unflattering way,, but hopefully not my husband. I looked at myself again in the mirror and felt a slight frission of sexual anticipation as I dreamt of how he would react, I then picked out the fuchsia pink polyester blouse and buttoned it up tying its hideous bow loosely at my neck before unzipping the beige pleased skirt and pulling it up over my hips and zipping it up at the side. I pulled the burgundy cardigan up my arms and left it hanging loose whilst I sat on the bed to add the piece de resistance, the world’s most unglamourous shoes. I held the ghastly fake leather material in my hands before slipping my feet into then and doing up the tiny imitation gold buckle at the outside below each ankle. I had to admit they were very light and extremely comfortable and I could instantly see why elderly ladies with swollen ankles would wear them but they really were just so ugly.

I checked my reflection in the mirror and did a twirl around, watching as the pleated skirt lifted up to reveal what looked like a pair of saggy knees. The effect was almost exactly what I wanted to achieve. I then added a pearl necklace and the smallest pair of pearl stud earrings that I had. Other than the lack of wrinkles I was the perfect facsimile of the style-less grandmother that I was sure a certain person would find irresistible.

The day seemed to drag on forever, I made myself a light salad lunch and watched some awful daytime soap just to try and get into the character of the stay at home grandmother.

Finally, I heard the key turning in the door and I stood at the top of the stairs looking down at my man. The look on his face was absolutely priceless. He looked up and said

“Emily is that really you? You’ve done this for me, you look incredible”

I didn’t know whether to be flattered or disgusted.

“Come her immediately young man” I barked as I headed towards our bedroom. Door. I stopped just outside to see Simon just turning to face me at the top of the stairs when he uttered.

“Emm have you really done all this for me I’m so lucky to have you”

With that I held out my arm to stop him. I don't know quite what came over me when from nowhere I suddenly found myself saying.

“Stop right there young man and show your elders some respect. Its Edna, in fact I don’t think a little formality will go amiss. It’s Great Aunt Edna to you. Have you got that? And I won’t be addressed in any other way”

“Oh wow Emm!” he exclaimed

“What did I just say” I reminded him again making the stop sign with my outstretched arm.

“Of course, I’m sorry Great Aunt, I didn't mean to be so forward”

“That’s alright young man but don’t let me catch you making that type of mistake again do you hear me?””

“I hear you Great Aunt Edna, I promise not to make that mistake again”

Good, we understand each other, now down on your hands and knees”

“What?” he looked up at the stern look on my face and instantly knelt in front of me.

“Now kiss my feet”

To my absolute amazement, that’s exactly what he proceeded to do. He kissed my awful cream sandals and even licked what he could just reach of my tan covered big toe through the small front opening of the sandal. I really didn’t know what had come over me, but the sudden feeling of absolute power just coursed through my veins. This was such a thrill. I’d often wondered how it must feel to be a dominatrix and I’d sometime thought about asking a man to kiss my feet, but when that image had come to mind I’d be wearing 4” stilettoes and black stockings, not dressed up as a grandmother. This was absolutely amazing I was just giddy with sexual excitement.

This was all too good to be true. I’d never imagined I could have so much power over a man just because of his lust. I knew I could take this further. I’d never really wanted to humiliate Simon or any man for that matter but this sudden urge was overwhelming.

As he was still on his knees I demanded

“Unzip your trousers”

He excitedly did so, assuming this would be the prelude to sex. I bent down and grabbed his rapidly hardening dick and coldly said

“Now masturbate for me” and incredibly he did, pumping his shaft with his right hand as hard as he could and no more than a minute later a jet of semen erupted from its glowing head all over his silk tie and the polished wooden floor-boards between us. Thankfully none of it landed on me.

My final act of humiliation was to tell him

“Clean this mess up” as I turned on my rubber soled sandaled feet into our room and locked the door. I lay back on the bed grabbing my rarely used vibrator and proceeded to pull down my saggy tights and squeeze it past my cotton knickers into my moist pussy and masturbate away. I was in heaven.

After a while I came back down stairs simply dressed in my silk pyjamas and robe. For a while we ate in silence not quite knowing what to say as we both tried to get our heads around what had just gone on between us. I finally broke the ice.

“Well Simon, do you still love me?”

“Of course I do” he replied.

“Good and I’ll always love you as well, but I think we both know that the nature of our relationship has suddenly changed do you agree?”

“I suppose it has, yes” he muttered.

“That’s ok, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’m more than happy to play out your wildest fantasies but I’m now in charge and what I said earlier still stands. When I’m dressed, as you undoubtedly want me to be. I’m your Great Aunt Edna and I’ll be treated as such. Do you agree?”

“Yes I agree”

“Good. I’m glad we’ve got that sorted. I’ll be making a few changes which the joint account can pay for and you won’t question me understood?”

“Yes that’s understood”

Shortly afterwards we both went to bed and lay there in silence barely touching as I thought of my future plans.
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter 6

The next morning, I realised that something new and powerful had been awakened in me. Although I didn’t think I’d get any kind of sexual thrill from disguising myself as some elderly matron, the feeling of power and absolute escapism that it seemed to give me last might was quite overwhelming. I knew that just as much as my husband was turned on by the image of elderly women, so I was turned on by the feeling of control and power it had given me and if that meant disguising myself; then so be it. I instantly knew that Edna was going to become a large part of my life from now on, but firstly I would need bigger wardrobe.

Charity shops would always be a useful source of turned unfashionable clothing but I also knew that Marks & Spencer’s that old staple of the mature woman would become my friend.

Later that morning, I headed into town wearing a black leather mini, black opaques, chunky heeled brown ankle boots and a denim jacket. I was going shopping for granny clothes but on this occasion at least I didn’t want anyone to think I was shopping for myself. So I wanted to look as young and on trend as I could and bizarrely my silver grey very hip hair dye actually helped with this.

Less than an hour later I emerged with some more cotton underwear, two pairs of support tights and a ghastly turquoise blouse with some awful piped detailing running along the front, but next was where the fun was really going to start.

I headed to the underground, emerging at Covent Garden for my first ever visit to Charles Fox the famous theatrical make-up suppliers in Tavistock Street. I had once or twice in the past glanced at the window but never before ventured inside. The store was an absolute treasure trove of every conceivable kind of make-up and disguise. Thankfully, the assistant could not have been more helpful for a novice like me. I used my now well-trusted line of going to a fancy dress party as an old lady. I had expected her to just advise me on various pencils to draw in some reasonably convincing wrinkles, but she talked me through the whole process of stretching the skin as much as possible, applying liquid latex and the drying it quickly with a hairdryer for instant bags. Apparently its what they use in films and the most experienced make-up artists can add layer after layer increasing the amount of wrinkles each time. I was so excited, I simply had to purchase some there and then along with a few other items and a useful training book.

I couldn’t wait to get home and practically fell over on the stairs racing to my bedroom to get started. I unzipped my boots and took off the jacket and once I’d stripped down to my underwear I stood there admiring the body I was about to disguise.

I quickly pulled on the baggy cotton knickers and loose vest, before adding the brand new turquoise blouse and yesterday’s tights. I wanted Simon to experience kissing my smelly feet. I thought to myself that I’d been far too kind to him yesterday. Soon after I sat there in full Edna mode with my wig cap on as I started to experiment with the liquid latex for the first time. I painted some of the clear liquid below one eye and stretching the skin as far as I could I spent about 30 seconds drying it with my hairdryer trying to withstand the pain of the heat and not actually burn myself. After a full two hours and having dusted myself with a pale setting power and with the merest hint of badly applied pink blusher and pink lipstick, a not entirely unconvincing old woman stared back at me. I had created wrinkled bags under each eye, a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a turkey neck. I really was rather proud of myself. I added the wig and then my glasses, cursing myself for again not having purchased a more suitable pair. However there was no doubt, I looked convincing enough to both humiliate, turn-on and subjugate my man.

I surfed the Internet looking at images of old ladies and various make-up tutorials on YouTube. Then on ebay for only £30 I came across the most perfect pair of early 1960s cats-eye shaped spectacles in tortoiseshell. They were absolutely perfect for Edna. They were being sold with clear plastic lenses but I could wear them with my contacts and get my prescription lenses added later. I clicked “add to basket” and paid for next day delivery.

Then after a few minutes of admiring my new “old” self in the mirror. I suddenly thought how crazy and stupid I was. This might seem like a bit of escapist fun but was I really going to disguise myself as an elderly woman to get my husband turned on. “No this is madness” I thought to myself.

I stripped off and carefully removed the latex and hid all my clothes away in the suitcase in our box-room and heavily moisturised my skin. I then reailsed what did I ever do when I was feeling a bit down about anything. I would have a girls’ night out. So I called Julie one of my friends who’d been trying to arrange a night out for ages and agreed to go out that night. I simply left a note for Simon on the kitchen table saying I’d be back late.

Just after midnight I came back removing my strappy high-heeled sandals as I climbed up the stairs slightly drunkenly. Simon was awake in bed waiting for me. I apologized for being late, kissed him lightly and said I was really really tired and after getting changed fell soundly asleep beside him. However in the taxi all the way home through my drunken haze I knew that what had seemed like a moment of madness earlier in the day couldn't just be erased from my memory and there wasn’t any doubting that I couldn’t resist returning to what I’d started.

I awoke with a sore head just before Simon left and I just had time to tell him that I’d be in the west end in the morning and perhaps we could meet for a quick lunch in the Italian restaurant we occasionally went to. He said it would have to be quick as he had a busy day but 1pm would be fine. I really couldn’t wait, lunch was going to be so much fun!

I realised Edna didn’t have a handbag but that was quickly solved by a trip to the nearest charity shop for an awful mock leather one in navy blue with a should strap. I noticed that for some reason most elderly ladies seemed to have similar bags that they wore across the shoulder and I would do the same. I also purchased an awful pink anorak with absolutely zero style but it was perfect for Edna and then to absolutely make my day, just as I was getting home I saw the postman approaching with what must be my new spectacles. I was as excited as a schoolgirl on her first date!

Just after 12, Edna emerged from her house. I felt I’d done an ever better job with the latex and with my new glasses and bag I nervously made my way to Notting Hill tube station. Shortly after 12.30 I emerged at Bond Street and to my relief and delight absolutely nobody had paid the slightest attention to me. Other than the disgusting pink anorak that rather stood out, I had become an invisible pensioner.

I walked along part of Oxford Street at a pace I thought befitting of a pensioner checking my reflection and make-up in the reflection of the shop windows. I deliberately hadn’t worn any of my expensive Chanel perfume as I didn’t feel it would be appropriate and stopped off at a chemist to make my first purchase as Edna. A small spray bottle of cheap English Lavender perfume that I felt was far more suitable for a lady of my age! My heart was pounding with nervous expectation as I approached the restaurant hoping my make-up wouldn’t fail me and that I wouldn’t give myself away somehow. I stopped to spray my wrists and neck generously with the perfume and got myself ready to enter, fluffing out the waves of my wig slightly. As I approached the restaurant I saw Simon sitting at the second table with his back to the door. A waiter walked towards me to ask if I had a reservation although it was no more than half full, when I said as best I could trying to make my voice sound as mature as possible.

“I’m here to meet my nephew thank you”

With that Simon heard ne and swung round in his chair to see Edna in all her glory. I could tell he was speechless. I smiled as much as I could through the latex and took my bag of my shoulder. With that I reached over and kissed Simon fondly but asexually on the cheek and the nice young waiter took my anorak from me.

“How kind” I replied and to Simon I said

“What a nice helpful young man”

We sat across the small table facing each other as Simon stared at my make-up. I could sense the combination of abject fear that someone he knew might come in as it was a regular lunch haunt for his work colleagues and also the excitement that he found so very hard to hide when looking at me.

“Well Simon” I began ‘You are looking well and how’s that young wife of your’s Emily?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what you see in her, she pretends to run some interior design business, but it strikes me she just lazes around spending your money. Can’t she at least produce a child for you?”

Before he could even begin to reply I stretched my sandal clad foot across under the table and rubbed the inside of his calf. I watched with delight as he went red with embarrassment, but I could also tell from the way he licked his lips that he was also being turned on by that unexpected sensation. This was simply wonderful.

I ate a light salad with a glass of Rose, eating very carefully as I was petrified that my make-up would crack, but when I made a brief visit to the Ladies I noticed all was fine. Simon nervously ate his pasta with regular soft touches of his hand from me as well as the caressing of his leg. I couldn’t believe how good it felt having this power over him and I desperately hoped someone he knew would enter and he’d have to introduce me, but unfortunately on this occasion that was not to be.

I then asked for a milky tea to round off my meal rather than the espresso I would normally have after an Italian meal. Finally I left Simon to pay and I thanked the lovely young waiter for serving us and helping me put my appalling anorak back on.

I then left, gently kissing Simon on the cheek whispering to him

“I can’t wait to get you home” as I watched his manhood rise in his trousers. I thought to myself that I really would need to do something to keep that thing under control!
 

Mwantum Kiteti

Active Member
Ultra Mutant
Joined
Dec 9, 2017
Messages
284
Reaction score
47
Points
28
Age
24
Chapter Seven

Over the next couple of days I’d spent more time as Edna regularly walking out in public as I became more confident with the latex and I often stopped to watch the way elderly ladies went about their daily lives, from the way they walked and sat down to how they carried their handbags and shopping. So many of them looked ground down by the toils of their lives quite unlike how I had ever seen myself. I’d also spent a lot more time researching elderly make-up on-line and practiced speaking in a more mature fashion whenever I could.

Simon and I had great sex a few times and he seemed so amazingly turned on by stripping me down to my elderly underwear and pulling my support tights down below my hips to enter me. He seems especially turned on by feeling them against the outside of his thighs as he rode me. As for me, the sex was good but the awakening of the need to have power over him was an even bigger turn on than the sex.

Finally on the next Saturday morning after spending many hours pondering over this I decided it was time to put a proposition to him. This had slowly been building in my head over the last few days. I sat there wearing my new French pleat long sleeve pink floral nightdress from www.BonsoirofLondon.com along with one of their dressing gowns: a brushed pastel gown in pink herringbone with my new Marks & Spencer’s Pull-on V-Throat Bow Ballerina Slippers. None of these items had any sex appeal but my husband couldn’t take his eyes off me. So with him ready to do anything I asked, I came straight out with my proposition.

“Simon” I began “I think we’ve always been quite honest with each other haven’t we?”

“Yes Emm” he replied somewhat apprehensively

“Who’s Emm?” I sternly replied.

“I am sorry I meant to say Great Aunt Edna”

“Thank you, young people have no manners these days. I always feel it's the height of rudeness not to address someone by their correct title. Don't you agree?”

“Yes I do Great Aunt”

“Thank you, then I shall begin with what we’re going to do from now on. Firstly do you want me to continue with this new elderly persona that I’ve created?”

“Yes I do”

“Yes I do what?” I tersely relied

“Yes I would really like you to continue as Great Aunt Edna”

“That’s fine, because to be perfectly honest with you I find I’m enjoying the power it gives me far more than I could possibly have ever imagined dear”

“Oh wow, that’s wonderful, Great”

“I was hoping you’d say that and would you like me to pretty much stay as your Aunt Edna for an extended period as if I really was that older woman that you seem to be so fixated with?”

“Oh, Aunt Edna there’s nothing I’d like more” I could see him looking excitedly at my pink velvet slippers glancing at my ankle peeping out from below my dressing gown.

“There will have to be rules. I’m sure you can understand that as I will have to go to a lot of effort to make this work correctly”

“I appreciate that Great Aunt, you are being very kind to me”

“Yes I am being very kind. Now here are the rules”

“We will do this for a six month trial period and then we will re-assess depending on how we both feel. It will take me about two weeks to complete what I need. There will be things to buy that you will obviously pay for. There will be no sex until we start and then only when I say so and to ensure you aren’t tempted by anyone else if I’m to remain full-time as Edna you will wear a cock cage to keep that thing under control. I won’t have you walking around this house with some hideous bulge in your trousers. Do you understand me?”

“What, you must be kidding, do you think I’m going to go around with some stupid chastity device on my dick? This isn't the Middle Ages”

With that comment, for the first time in my like I slapped Simon across the face. He looked so shocked I almost thought he might cry and I felt like a superwoman.

He was bright red and he got up from the table and stormed out. I started to feel a little guilty as I heard the front door slam shortly afterwards, but refused to chase after him. Instead, I showered and went out to the gym to get him out of my mind.

A few hours later I returned looking my sexy best. Simon had also returned and entered the sitting room as I put my sports bag down and he said:

“Emma I’m so sorry for the way I reacted earlier. I’ve been thinking and I’d love you to be my Great Aunt Edna and I’ll submit to wearing the chastity thingy as long as you promise me we can still have regular sex with you as Edna”
“There’s only one rule from my side” he added

“Rules, rules do you think you can demand rules?” I said enjoying the power I seemed so easily capable of exerting over him.

“Well I will need a safe word that I can use to be released from the chastity ring, but if I wear it then you will have to stay as Aunt Edna for the entire 6 months and I’d need to try the ring on first to check that it wasn’t going to actually do me any permanent damage”

“I can agree to that” I replied.

Looking at the fruit bowl on the sideboard I intuitively said

“The safe word will be Pineapple, but remember if you do say it there will be no continuing. Edna will end right there; agreed?”

“Yes I can agree to that and Pineapple is the word”

“Right Simon from now on you will sleeping the small single bedroom and I will move into the large guest room whilst I have some changes made to what is currently our bedroom which will become Edna’s. There’s a small wardrobe in your new room, kindly remove your things from our room today and put them in there so I can begin getting Edna’s room ready. I’m also willing to make a sacrifice for you. On the day this starts I will let you take all of Emily’s clothes away and have them put in one of those storage units, I know there are a few scattered across London. Only you will know where that is so there is some balance to the arrangement”

“Emily do I really need to change rooms”

“Yes you do, and my name is Edna, so do as I say or this ends before its even begun.

“I agree”
 

Members online

No members online now.

Forum statistics

Threads
2,770
Messages
3,308
Members
64
Latest member
Arthur
Top Bottom