Aunt Liz's Bitch - Cover

Aunt Liz's Bitch

Copyright© 2024 by StJohnGeneral

Chapter 6

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 6 - A confused, effeminate, orphaned young man is taken in by his massively endowed, man-hating lesbian aunt. She makes it clear he must dress to hide his masculinity. Follow his slow acceptance of the role she has for him.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/mt   Teenagers   Coercion   Reluctant   Gay   BiSexual   Heterosexual   CrossDressing   Fiction   True Story   Incest   Aunt   Nephew   FemaleDom   Spanking   Anal Sex   Analingus   Cream Pie   First   Facial   Squirting   Big Breasts   Body Modification   Illustrated  

The alarm woke me at its usual time, and I inserted my new plug with some difficulty, dressed casually and walked to the kitchen to prepare my aunt’s breakfast.

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Aunt Liz bustled in later than usual, although she still looked as elegant as ever. She hurriedly ate her breakfast and downed her coffee before almost running out the door.

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I started my day with a bit of housework, including vacuuming, changing the sheets and pillowcases on our beds, and doing the washing. I was out of chores by 10:00 a.m. and was at a loss as to how to fill my day until around 7:00 p.m., when my aunt typically arrived home. I opened my coursework, but I was currently up-to-date with everything I could do—a strange thing for me and my education. Being allowed to work frenziedly when the mood struck and then not doing anything for long periods suited my personality. As long as my assignments and assessments were on time, my professors seemed to care little about how it was done.

Bored, I began trolling through my Facebook account. I’ve had one since I was thirteen but hardly ever used it. My mother was my only friend on the account, which only served to remind me how alone I was before Aunt Liz rescued me. I searched to see what I needed to do to deactivate my mother’s account and immediately came upon another of those seemingly unfixable problems that the deceased’s relatives faced—I didn’t have the documents Facebook wanted before they’d allow me, her only descendant, to deactivate her account. I made a mental note to ask my aunt if she had them. I’d learned Aunt Liz was the executor of my mother’s will, so I guessed she would.

 
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