Christmas Stockings

by Duke of Ramus

Caution: This Fan Fiction Story contains strong sexual content, including NonConsensual, Fan Fiction, Humor, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, .

Desc: Fan Fiction Story: Based on an old Mayfair Carrie cartoon strip - the young blond is as disaster prone as ever when she has to babysit her two nephews.

A Piece of my Imagination


This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© 2009 Duke of Ramus.
All rights reserved.


I'd like to thank Mulligan and Steve T for their assistance in turning this into a better story than my initial effort, any errors remaining are of course mine.


The inspiration for this story came from a Carrie Christmas cartoon - and

To see more of these nostalgic comic strips take a look at


Carrie sighed; she couldn't help it. She was twenty-eight years old, in the prime of her life and was still babysitting. She glanced up from the book she was reading towards the two boys she was watching over, neither of whom seemed particularly interested in her at that moment.

A slight smile graced the blond woman's lips as she remembered some of the babysitting jobs she'd done while in college. The money had been helpful, as had the time she'd been able to spend with various of her boyfriends in private.

She frowned as she recalled this morning's events. Her sister had called her as she was having her breakfast muesli and told her that her husband, Harry, was going to be arriving home in time for Christmas. She needed to pick him up from the airport later today and needed someone to look after the twins while she was gone.

That the two sixteen year old boys would need a babysitter came as a bit of a surprise to Carrie, but Margaret had practically begged her to keep an eye on Tom and Dick until she could get back with Harry.

"Carrie, they'll be no trouble, I promise," she'd said. "I just want an adult in the house with them."

"Why?" pressed Carrie.

Margaret groaned, "Because they're likely to do something stupid if there's no one here to keep an eye on them."

"Like what?" asked Carrie starting to worry.

"Like invite girls around or get into the booze cabinet," explained their exasperated mother. "They're at that age were they need to be kept an eye on."

"Like you were at sixteen," chuckled Carrie as she'd remembered some of the things her older sister had done when they were growing up.

Margaret snorted down the phone, "And you too," she responded.

"OK, I'll do it for you," said Carrie. "But you'll have to be back by seven as I'm going out with the girls from the office. I'll get the taxi to pick me up from your place rather than here."

Margaret had gushed thank you's like they were going out of fashion and Carrie had been glad to get off the phone and finished her breakfast.

Like the rest of the girls in the office Carrie had finished work at lunchtime. This allowed all of them to get home and begin the long task of getting ready for the night out.

Carrie had taken her time over a long hot bath, ensuring that everything below her neck was as smooth as a baby's bottom. She'd rubbed in lotions and potions until her skin glowed and she felt she was ready for anything a man could throw at her. She'd chuckled at the thought of a man throwing anything at her, she could only hope.

Now that she was clean and smooth she got dressed.

The classic black dress sheathed the upper half of her figure before fanning out into a full skirt. The skirt was split to the waist allowing her skimpiest of skimpy under-things to be glimpsed if she wanted them to. She didn't choose a matching bra because the keyhole front of the dress didn't allow one to be worn. The feel of the silk stockings as she'd smoothed them over her legs had reminded her just how long it had been since anyone else had caressed her in that way.

High heels and a little clutch bag completed the look she wanted, elegant but sexy. After a final check in the full-length mirror she'd summoned a taxi for the journey across town to her sister's home.

She flicked her eyes towards the cab's rear view mirror and caught the driver giving her the once over. Grinning inside she playfully crossed her left leg over her right and glanced out of the side window. For the rest of the journey she deliberately played up to him, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she travelled along without once acknowledging his interest.

Margaret opened the front door as her sister's taxi pulled up at the curb. She was ready to leave and planted a cursory kiss on Carrie's cheek as soon as the younger woman had finished paying the driver.

"I've got to go," she said. "Harry's plane is due at four-thirty and it'll take me until then to get there."

Carrie nodded in understanding, the airport was on the other side of town and getting there was not the easiest of journeys.

"Don't let the boys go out, they're grounded," said Margaret as she opened the door to her car. "Keep them in the front room with you. If they go to their bedrooms they'll be looking at porn or something on their computers."

Carrie blushed at the mention of porn and Margaret smiled knowingly and got in her car. She slammed the door shut and Carrie was struck by how much of a rush her sister was in.

The window lowered and Margaret continued her instructions, "They're not to have anyone in and for God's sake keep them away from the drinks cabinet. The last time we left them alone they polished off half a bottle of whiskey between them."

"Okay," muttered Carrie before the car started moving. She'd been looking forward to a couple of drinks to get her into the party mood. Now she'd have to wait until Margaret returned.

"We'll be back around six-thirty," called Margaret. "Byeee..."

Carrie waved absentmindedly as the car shot off down the street.

The blond sighed, "Let's see what's waiting for me," she said under her breath as she entered the house and closed the front door on the outside world.

"Boys?" called Carrie from the hallway.

"We're in the front room," replied Tom loudly.

Carrie made her way to the front room, which for some reason was at the back of the house overlooking the garden. She smiled as she entered the room, it was so festive, streamers hung from the ceiling and sparkling tinsel surrounded the windows. A blazing log fire was in the hearth and the Christmas tree stood next to it, there were even a couple of Christmas stockings hanging from the mantle-piece.

The two boys were sat on the rug in front of the blazing fire playing cards.

"Hi Auntie," they called in unison.

Carrie chuckled, "So what have you two been up to that has got you in your mother's bad books?" she asked as she crossed to one of the over-stuffed armchairs.

Tom grinned, "It was his fault," he said jerking his thumb towards his brother. "He got caught upstairs with Melissa."

Richard was blushing furiously as his brother spoke and dropped his eyes as Carrie looked at him.

"And?" she prompted.

"Mom thinks that Melissa is a tart," said Tom casting a glance in his brother's direction. "Which she is, but they weren't actually doing anything."

Carrie saw Richard wince at the description Tom used but he didn't say anything so she concluded that there must be an element of truth in the description.

"But that doesn't explain why you're grounded," she said. "Is there something else?"

Richard looked up and smiled, "He's the one that got caught with the bottle of Vodka."

Carrie shook her head and laughed, "When are you two going to grow up?"

"Never!" they chorused.

Carrie continued to shake her head at the pair as they grinned at her. "Well I'm going to sit here and read one of your mother's bodice rippers. You two just carry on playing and stay out of trouble."

The two boys nodded and settled back to their game, Carrie picked up the top book off the stack of Mills and Boon epics that lived on the side table and tried to relax. After all, it was only for a couple of hours.

It was nearly six-thirty and Carrie was starting to get anxious.

The telephone ringing made her jump but Tom hoped up and answered it.

"Aunt Carrie, sure mom, she's here..." Tom looked across the room and held out the phone, "Mom wants to talk to you."

As Carrie stood up she knew it had to be bad news, why else would they be ringing her.


"Carrie, we've had a bit of a bump," said Margaret in her ear.

"How bad is it?" asked Carrie as visions of the newly arrived Harry trapped in the mangled wreckage flashed before her eyes.

"Nothing really," said Margaret. "Some idiot drove into the back of us but it looks like he hasn't got any insurance so we've got to stay here until the police have finished taking statements." There was a pause, "We're likely to be another couple of hours."

Carrie took the phone from her ear and stared at it, another couple of hours.

"I take it that you want me to stay here with the boys?" she asked, her voice heavy with disbelief.

"Oh thank you," gushed Margaret. "You've taken a weight off my mind. I'll call you as soon as they let us go," she said in a rush. "Byeee..."

The phone in Carrie's hand went dead.

"The bitch!" hissed the blond and then slammed the phone down.

"I need a drink," she snarled and, ignoring the puzzled looks from the boys she stormed across the room heading for the door and the dining room, which is where the booze cabinet was.

She wasn't concentrating on what was happening around her and the billowing skirt of her dress tempted the flames of the fire before catching the ends of the woollen Christmas stockings. Before she felt the tug both of the pale blue stockings had broken free from their fastenings and dropped into the bright flames.

"Ohh," gasped Carrie as glanced over her shoulder.

"Auntie," yelled the boys gesticulating towards the flames.

"Stop," she snapped as Richard reached towards the fire, "let me try."

Without thinking about the consequences she bent forward to try and grasp the ends of the festive hangings but it was too late. They were well on their way to being ashes.

Carrie didn't notice the silence behind her as she desperately tried to salvage anything worthwhile from the fire.

The two boys were on their knees slack-jawed as they took in the display.

Carrie in her rush to save the stockings had forgotten how she was dressed. The side split had been twisted towards her rear and as she'd bent forward the skirt had parted, falling forward to display her charms. Her straight legs had done nothing more than accentuate the display.

Her skimpiest knickers had effectively become a thong as it had slipped between the plump mounds of her ass, the stocking tops across her pale thighs acted as a picture window that the boys couldn't resist looking into.

The way her plump pussy was moulded by the tightness of her knickers had the boys drooling in delight.

Their eyes were locked on the swinging derriere of the blond as she swayed in her attempts to rescue the smouldering wool. The longer she tried the more the boys felt themselves being pulled towards her divine charms.

They blinked as Carrie sighed and stood up.

"I'm sorry boys," she said as she slowly turned to face them. "It was an accident."

Tom looked at Richard and cocked his head to one side. Richard looked back at Carrie for a moment and then returned his gaze to his brother. He nodded once and Tom smiled.

"We really needed those stockings," said Tom.

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Story tagged with:
NonConsensual / Fan Fiction / Humor / Exhibitionism / Voyeurism /