feminisation

As he was led eagerly away by the young maid, he looked back with some disappointment as he was taken from the woman he most desired; she smiled and blew a kiss at him as though he had just attended an appointment about a decorating job with her, he smiled unsurely back – she seemed so nonchalant about what had just occurred -he watched her beautiful bottom wiggle as she bent to open her writing bureau. His cock bulged in its new home.



He realised for the first time that he was now the property of a woman and with his cock confined and he being on a leash to a lowly maid gave him a deep sense of erotic pleasure.



Belinda led him up several flights of stairs to her room in the attic, she had kept a sweet smile of satisfaction all the way up and he had been transfixed by the view of her delectable and youthful thighs and bottom as they ascended; he could still not believe what had happened to him; his life had gone from the odd chance of the quick enjoyment of hand relief over a lurid book or cheap newspaper article to direct contact with the very flower of a magnificent and mature lady. Now he was the slave of her maid.



She took him into a toilet opposing her room and the ones next to it.



“We must make sure you can pee.” She said giggling, “I need to clean you as well; you must always be fresh when invited to a lady’s bed.” She stood and watched as he leaned over the pedestal and leaked his urine from the cage; it dribbled somewhat, but he could manage it. She stroked his bottom as he did so, which hindered him a little as this made his cock want to grow in the confinement. When he’d dripped out the last, she walked him to a conveniently positioned basin over which he could hang his cock and balls. She cupped his balls and the cage in her soft hand and bathed him in warm soapy water.



She giggled as they both looked at the reflection in the ornate looking-glass suspended on the wall; he could now witness his humiliation and he noted how beautiful her erect nipples looked as they poked from her creamy white delicate breasts. She caressed his balls with one hand as she sponged his trapped penis with the warm liquid, making it bulge against the restraining cage.



“You really are a nice obedient male, aren’t you? I shall enjoy my part in your training; tonight you will understand denial for the first time. You will do for me what you did for Madame.” She smiled sweetly in the reflection



“I had a very good view through the keyhole; she knows I always watch her with gentleman, she likes me to learn from it.” She dried him off and led him out into the corridor.



“Those are Lottie and George’s rooms; they’ll be very pleased to meet you when they come back from their summer leave – I’m sure you’ll like them too. Miss Charlotte Pendleton and Georgina Grantham are both orphanage girls taken in by Miss Rendlesham; Lottie will boss you wonderfully but George is quite timid and you will find her in your bed seeking refuge from the ghosts she imagines!” She led him into her room, which was not as per what you would imagine of a Victorian maid’s sleeping quarters; it was very spacious with dormer windows, fancifully decorated in purples, lilacs, and pinks. Soft and luxuriant rugs covered the floor, thick drapes hung from the windows, and her large double bed was bedecked with soft satin and silk pillows; it was more boudoir than berth. She smiled and tugged on the leash urging him to a position central to the foot of the bed, about four feet from it.



“I want you to kneel there and await my command” she said in as authoritative a tone as she could muster. As he knelt she turned and wiggled her bottom in his face, then paced slowly toward the bed, showing him her sex as she climbed slowly onto it on all fours. She turned and sat nestling amongst the mass of soft pillows.



“I want you to tell me how you really feel about women; are you keen to see us take over the roles of men? I think a female Prime Minister is a nice thought.” She said laughing, knowing this could never happen; “what sort of women do you like most? Blonde, brunette, auburn?” He thought for a moment as he viewed the sweet young maid naked amongst the silks.



“I like all women; red-heads have always turned my head though, I have to admit.” She sat up in the bed.



“Lottie and George will both be pleased then; Lottie is a soft auburn and George is truly ginger. We always tease her about it. Mrs Carmichael, the cook, likes to spank her simply because she is ginger. She says that all ginger girls are spiteful and a spanking helps keep her in check. George isn’t so keen on it though.” She pulled her legs up at this point and slid her slender fingers up and down her sex.



“Have you ever been spanked or caned by a woman?” She said in a provocative tone.



“No; well, not since school anyway.” His cock bulged in the cage at the thought. She smiled knowingly.



“Would you like to be spanked or caned by a woman?” She sighed softly as she stroked at her sex.



“I’m not sure; I like the idea of it-the threat of it thrills me- but I’m not sure about the pain.” He said honestly. She giggled and smiled wickedly at him.



“You’ll learn to like it; you’ll have to! Some of the ladies Miss Rendlesham is busy writing to will cane you for breakfast, dinner and tea! Some have had a bad time of things at the hands of men and will make you pay dearly for it. I’ve seen men punished by Miss Rendlesham too; she may cane you whilst we girls watch. She likes to humiliate like that, though it’s always enjoyable for us as we are allowed to stay and watch the male rewarded afterwards.”



She started to moan softly under her breath;



“I want you up here now. Come and lie face down in front of me.” He stood and got onto the soft inviting bed and lay face down; his face was very close to her and he could smell her sweet arousal. His cock pulsed in the captivity of the cage which was not too uncomfortable, though it did squeeze down on his balls in this position. This served to remind him that he was enslaved by the women and he enjoyed the feeling in an erotically perverse way. She stroked his hair and pulled on the leash, lifting his head to look into her mischievous eyes.



“You’ll lick me to satisfaction now, but you shall have no reward. I want you to think of that while you service me. You are to learn that your position in life is to serve women and we will choose when you are to be rewarded. I have the key and could easily unlock you, but I shall not. I want you to think of how your cock would rub and slide nicely on my silk sheets if it were free. I want you to think of how nice it would be to give up your cream to the sheets as you pleasure a dominant female with your tongue. When I’ve had my pleasure you will be allowed to hold my body throughout the night, but your manhood will remain locked and unsatisfied. You will learn to be a better man for it.”



She slapped his cheek to assert her dominance over him, slid slightly forward and pushed his face down into her luscious sex. Her scent and taste was delicious on his lips and tongue, his nose sniffed away automatically as his mouth was engulfed in her beautiful warmth and sticky wetness. He lapped and sucked within her sweet folds as he explored her womanly flower with his tongue seeking out her youthful nectar. She pulled her legs back and whimpered in ecstasy. His cock felt like it would be shredded by the constrictions of the cage, which occasionally bit at his scrotum as he writhed on the bed. He truly knew denial, but felt the better for it already; serving a woman submissively and knowing he would not be allowed satisfaction made him tingle with erotic pleasure.



She squealed in ecstasy and thrust her legs skyward as she triumphed in a glorious orgasm, fortified by her dominance over him. He lapped and swallowed her juices as he milked the last elements of orgasm from her. She pulled him up and shuffled down next to him in the bed. Her eyes were watery as she thanked him and kissed his messy lips, giggling girlishly. Her hand went down to his crotch and he felt her little finger rubbing what little part of his restricted glans was available.



“Poor, poor, boy! No milking for you tonight. But you still enjoyed that did you not? I promise you, I will have you again at some point and I will have you spend on my sheets whilst you lick me. I shall have to cane you afterwards for making a mess though!” she sniggered, as she squeezed him tightly.



The promise made his cock all the more painful, though he was consoled by the affection of the soft and warm girl; fresh from her orgasm she now wanted to mother him rather than dominate and he took in the scent of her hair as they dropped off to sleep in the comfort of her bed.







The next morning, Belinda led him down to his first breakfast with his new mistress. She curtsied and gave Miss Rendlesham a broad grin before leaving. Miss Marcia came over to her new acquisition and kissed his forehead before placing a bundle of letters in front of him between toast rack and teapot.



“I would like you to post these into the pillar box down on the corner whilst I prepare for a little trip out today; I know I suggested you’d do some work for me today, but I felt you could do with some rest after last night. I want to take you somewhere which will show you what can be achieved by someone of your talent. We will visit a friend’s house on the way back; I know she will be pleased to meet you, and you her. I am anxious that the letters are posted by your own hand; that way there is poetic justice in that you personally will have had control over your destiny in summoning the ladies I have written to.” She poured him and herself another cup of breakfast tea and sat next to him; it was as though he’d always been there. As they finished their breakfast she passed him the bundle of letters.



“You take these and post them, I shall be ready when you come back.” He left by the front door and skipped down the steps to the street. Though Sunday, there was still a fair amount of people out and about, the good weather having brought them out. He found the red hexagonal pillar box easily enough and looked at the letters before posting them through the mouth of the box. He had thought of what the maid Belinda had told him about some of the women, and had looked at the addressees to try to put characters to the names, then with some trepidation had dispatched them and was now at the mercy of the Royal Mail. Miss Marcia Rendlesham was right in that he had controlled his own destiny; her act of making him post the letters further emphasised her complete control of him.



When he returned, a cab was waiting by the house. She was ready as she had suggested on his return. She looked him in the eye and smiled.



“You posted the letters?”



“Of course, you asked me to; I was pleased to carry out that simple task for you.” She smiled all the more and took his hand;



“Come, let us have another nice day in each-other’s company.”



They got into the cab and as they sat there she squeezed his hand and looked at him with some satisfaction. They went first to a vast museum which was packed with artistic paraphernalia; she mused over some of the artefacts there and commented on how the efforts she had witnessed being completed by him were in essence at least the equivalent of what was displayed there; she knew he was an asset to her for more than the intimate reasons he had displayed the night before. He too was gaining inspiration from the experience, but the assistance he could offer her with his public artistic talent paled into insignificance when he thought of what he would be allowed to offer her on the personal side of things.



He could not help but notice how passers-by deftly eyed her; she was a magnificent woman and he was proud to be hers. She obviously felt the same way about the personal situation as well; when in a secluded gallery where classical nudes were depicted, she stroked his crotch to feel the cage which confined part of the property which was now hers.



“I hope he’s not too uncomfortable in there; we shall let him out tonight as promised, but first there is somewhere else I must take you before we visit my friend.” She whisked him away and they caught another cab which trotted off to a street which was filled with shops and outfitters. The cab driver looked a little puzzled when they alighted there; as it was Sunday, the street was deserted. Likewise, so was he. She smiled as the cab departed and she walked him down the empty thoroughfare, and then turned into an alley with a side door to an outfitter’s.



She rang the bell four times in uniform amounts of time. Shortly after someone knocked on the inside of the door four times; Marcia repeated the task – the door opened and in they went. A prim and attractive looking woman looked furtively out from the door then closed it again.



“Ah, Miss Rendlesham, and a friend! Let’s go down to the stock-room.” The woman smiled saucily at him as she led them through the outfitters shop with its grey and drab suits, coats and hats on show.



“He’ll look good in all sorts of things.” She said as she opened a door at the end of the shop and they went down a flight of stairs to the basement. She opened another door and they entered a brightly lit room which was at least twice the size of the shop above them. All manner of costumes, uniforms and accessories were on show. The walls were covered with canes, whips, crops and all manner of chains and manacles. There were sections for Nurses, Headmistress’s, governesses and varieties of capes and hoods; it was like some erotic fancy dress outlet.



Marcia and the woman smiled at each other as she picked up a cage identical to the one he was wearing. The woman smiled at him with deep satisfaction, knowing he was wearing the one Marcia had purchased last week. The look made his cock bulge instantly.



“It’s so nice to meet yet another male who knows his true place in life. You must let me borrow him when new lines come in; it’s so much more satisfying to see them posed by a genuine submissive – he’s cute, I would so love to tease him in various outfits- I’d give you generous discounts of course.”



“We’ll see.” Said Marcia as she looked at some silky oriental costumes “he is going to be very busy with my friends and I over the coming months; we’ll need to order lots of outfits for him.” The shopkeeper smiled and squeezed his bottom.



“I take it this will involve his feminisation with at least one of the outfits?” she said both teasingly and enthusiastically.



“Oh yes.” Replied Marcia as she looked him in the eye.



“I intend to walk him out in public dressed as a woman; I want to both humiliate him, and have him experience first-hand how men treat us. It will give him a full understanding of why it is necessary for him to be punished by females and he will enjoy that punishment so much more.” He swallowed hard and his cock pulsated in its confinement; the idea scared him a little, but he loved the idea of being controlled by women. He knew he would thoroughly enjoy the deep sense of humiliation he would endure.



“Oh, before I forget.” Said the shopkeeper “the other accessory you wanted when you purchased his cage has arrived.” She strutted off to a counter and returned, passing a smooth ceramic object to Marcia; it was egg shaped at one end, tapering back and flat at the other with a brass ring at the base.



“Wonderful!” Said Marcia she hung it in her finger by the brass ring and waved it in front of him.



“We shall fit it here and have him wear it to my friend’s house; he can tell her how it feels.” He was bemused by the conversation and had no idea what the two women meant. The shopkeeper looked at him with a deep sense of satisfaction and self-gratification at what she would now tell him.



“What you see before you is an anal plug. It will be greased and you will have it inserted into your bottom by your mistress. It will be a nice tight fit, and will give you the most exquisite reminder that you are owned by the woman who has placed it there. It will constantly stretch your anus at all times fabricating the sensation you experience when in fear of a caning etc. It is the perfect companion to your cage, and I will present madam with a little link chain which will run from the ring on the plug to your cage; this will tickle your scrotum adding that final pleasure and will symbolise the unity of ownership by Madame of all that was once yours.”



He was not sure at all that he would like this, but knew he had no choice in the matter; the woman’s speech made him all the more aware of his position and he went meekly to an available changing room as his dominant mistress took his arm and led him in.



“Strip!” Said Marcia, as the woman gathered some outfits that she had previously ordered for him; now she had seen his dimensions she expertly found the appropriate sizes for him. She dropped them into the large changing room and then sat on the seat by the mirror and smiled at Marcia as she produced a small pot of lubricating grease from her pocket and passed this to Marcia.



“Lay over the lady’s legs; I’m going to plug your bottom.” He could see she was in one of her wicked moods at the moment. He lay naked over the woman’s legs and she gave his cheeks a rudimentary spanking, laughing as she did so.



“Oh, if only all men were submissive like you! Life would be heaven!” He saw Marcia approach; the woman held his legs down with one of her legs and spread his cheeks with her hands.



“You must relax and not tense and we’ll have you nicely plugged before you know it.” She said giggling.



“There’s nothing quite as rewarding as plugging a male who’s already been caged and is about to be feminised.” His cock was fit to burst in its mean confinement as he felt Marcia’s soft hands on his rear; he whimpered a little as he felt the cool enamel plug being pressed home-it hurt like hell at first as his anus was stretched by the alien object; the shopkeeper tickled his ball making him jut his arse backwards, and Marcia pressed the plug firmly home.



The shopkeeper passed the silver chain to Marcia who linked it from the brass ring to his cage as promised. The shopkeeper smiled with wicked satisfaction; she was the most ardent of dominant women and loved to see her products put to good use. She suddenly remembered an upcoming event with which she could tease this submissive male.



“He’ll need a shorter chain if he’s to be ‘modified’ of course; I take it you will attend Lady Barbara Hapsley’s event in the week-there’s nothing more satisfying than witnessing a modification?” Miss Marcia smiled back at her.



“Oh, I’m well aware and we shall attend. I want him to witness first hand just how devoted to a superior woman a lowly male can be; it will be a lovely surprise for him.” She touched her nose to emphasise that she did want him to know, anticipating that the shopkeeper was feeling at her most wicked and would have delighted in telling him what ‘modification’ entailed. The two women looked down at the newly plugged male and smiled in anticipation of witnessing his face at Lady Barbara Hapsley’s event. Miss Marcia gently pressed on the plug once more to ensure he was retaining it properly. He squirmed, half in discomfort, half in pleasure and wondered what a modification was.



“There! Now will know your place every minute of the day. You will truly know the meaning of humiliation and submissiveness to womenfolk by the time we get you home this evening; let’s dress him now.” He stood for the first time and felt his sphincter clench against the smooth and now warm porcelain plug which served to stimulate his attempted erection within the cage. The shopkeeper smiled contentedly as she knew he would now respect every woman, every moment of the day. She cupped his balls, making him clench all the more.

Chapter 1.



They were both very tanned and sat on the plane holding hands and chatting happily about the Villa. It really had been a magical honeymoon, far more than Simon should really have spent, but what a wonderful start to their married life.



As they wheeled their luggage through Customs a wheel fell off Simon’s case and rolled under the counter unseen by either of them.



“Hang on Soph, a wheel’s come off my luggage.”



Sophie stopped, rolling her eys as she turned to see Simon looking around the lounge, scratching his head.



“It can’t have just disappeared, have a look around you.” Sophie stood, arms folded whilst her new husband crawled around under the counter, emerging finally with the wheel in his hand. Before he had a chance to get up Sophie stood in front of him, putting out her hand. Simon looked up, and meekly gave the wheel to her like an offering.



“It has sheered right off. You will just have to carry the case back to the car,” Sophie said, dismissively dropping the wheel back into Simon’s hand.



Simon got up, dusting down his trousers and struggled after his wife, holding his luggage with both hands, as she marched on towards the car-parks.



“Not that way Soph, we are in the short-term, car-park, No. 1, over here.” Sophie once again, stopped, span on her heels and looked her new husband. He stood there, ticket in his mouth, struggling to pull his wallet out from his bag at the back of a long queue.



“What! Have you any idea how expensive short-term is? “



“Well, you were with me when we parked darling. You didn’t say anything then. “



Sophie shook her head and the word idiot formed on her lips. But she managed to stop herself. ‘I am tired, ‘she said to herself, and they stood in silence until at last they reached the machine.



PLEASE PAY £765.75



INSERT CREDIT/DEBIT CARD AND FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS ON THE SCREEN



“Jesus Simon. That is more than our flights cost.”



Simon pulled out his credit card. He knew that there was not enough money left in his current account, so they would just have to pay it off over a few weeks.



They arrived home a 2am. Sophie had slept for most of the journey, and woke with a start, just as Simon turned into their street.



“Bring the bags in and lock up. I am off to bed, and don’t wake me!” Sophie said quietly, rummaging for her keys and stepping out of the car without a backward glance.



Simon did as he was told, finally scooping up the mail and placing it on the kitchen table before tiptoeing upstairs. He climbed into bed as quietly as possible, slipping under the duvet, and just as he began to fall asleep the alarm went.



Sophie sat up.



“You idiot Simon. Why is that still set?”



“Sorry Soph. I must have set it on repeat or something. There, it is off now.”



“Don’t bother, I am sleeping in the spare room.” Sophie stood up, wrapping the duvet around her shoulders and marched out of the room, leaving the light on and the door wide open.



“Soph…don’t go. Soph?”



In the morning Simon woke at 10 after a fitful night’s sleep under a towel and an itchy blanket. He padded downstairs still yawning to find his wife, fully dressed, opening the post with a long silver letter-opener.



Simon looked at her admiringly. She really was the most beautiful creature. The sun had bleached her hair even lighter, perfectly contrasting her flawless Mediterranean complexion. She wore black leggings over the tiniest black skirt, black ankle boots and a black, figure hugging top with v-neck.



“Ah, Simon, just in time,” Sophie said, handing Simon a small parcel from the post. This is for you from me. A wedding present.”



“Oh darling, how nice,” Simon said in an exaggerated tone.



He sat down at the kitchen table in his dressing gown, and started to open the jiffy bag, taking out a small wooden box, beautifully carved with a brass catch at the front.



“Now Simon. I want you to open the box and take out the contents. Then we are going to have a little talk.”



Simon looked at the box and then at his wife. What on earth was going on.



Sophie clasped her hands together, resting them on the table and looked at her husband.



“Open it Simon, and you will see?”



Simon scratched the tip of his nose nervously and opened the box, taking out a small heavy contraption, a series of metal rings held together with tiny padlocks and a large thimble like object attached to one end. It was exquisitely made in polished titanium, and looked as if it was built to last forever.



“Now Simon. Do you know what this is,” Sophie said, picking up the object between her finger and thumb and holding it up in front of her husband.



“Jewellery? A lucky charm?”



Simon shrugged, not entirely knowing how to sound grateful when he hadn’t a clue what he was looking at.



“Well, yes, not a bad guess Simon.”



Sophie smiled, for the first time since the airport, and Simon, smiled back, relieved that his wife’s mood was finally beginning to lift.



“Stand up, and open your dressing-gown, and I will show you.”



Simon looked puzzled, but did as he was told, standing in front of his wife and looking down. Before he had a moment to get aroused, Sophie had slipped one of the rings around the sack above his testicles and clicked it shut. It felt cold and heavy, but not too tight. A further ring slipped around the base of his penis, which in turn she pushed into the perforated thimble, locking the head into position. Al the fastenings were then locked with three tiny silver padlocks.



“There. How does that feel?”



The whole procedure had taken less than a minute, and Simon looked down at the device and realized what had happened.



“Now Simon, I wish you to sit down and listen to me.”



Simon sat down, making the device clink against the wooden seat, and felt an uncomfortable pressure as his penis strained against the restraint.



“This device is going to be a very important part of our marriage from now on Simon.”



‘But, Soph, don’t you trust….”



“Shh, shh, don’t interrupt me Simon, I am speaking. Now, this is not a question of trust. I know that you would never be unfaithful to me. It is a question of control. I wish you to understand that I have complete control over your desires, and this device is a symbol of that control. When you are wearing it, I have complete control, and you will do as I tell you. If you please me then at certain times I may choose to release you for a period of time. If you displease me then the device will remain on indefinitely. “



“Do you understand me so far Simon?”



Simon shrugged his shoulders, and whispered…”but, why Soph?”



“Now Simon, let us start with some basic rules now we are back home and starting our life together.. You do not call me Soph. You call me Miss Sophie at all times when we are alone. In company you may call me Sophie.



Secondly, you need to understand how this is going to work on practical level. I wish to make changes to your emotional state. To do this I am going to ask you to do things for me, and if and when you do those things that will please me. If I am pleased then I shall release you. But it does not end there. Once you are released then I will expect you to behave appropriately. If you do, then you will find some relief. If you behave inappropriately you will be put back into chastity and the whole process is repeated.”



Simon looked at his wife and could see how clever her idea was. He would be expected to behave in a certain way both in and out of chastity and one would reinforce the other. His behaviour, thoughts and feelings would be modified in chastity and then his relief would be controlled out of chastity. This could be just terrifying.



“But why are you doing this now Soph? I thought we were happy. I love you?”



“Simon. My name is Sophie. That is three more days in chastity over and above the time that I decide is appropriate for this first session. I do love you Simon, very much, and yes we are happy. Both of those things are true. But I wish our love, our relationship, to be lifted up onto an entirely different level. In time you will come to understand that this will lead to more fulfillment and an even greater happiness for both of us.”



Simon just looked at his new wife. He really had no idea if this was just some kind of sex game, or a joke, or whether she really was going to take control of his, well, his desires.



“Now Simon. Go and get dressed and then we shall have some breakfast. You will think more clearly when you have eaten.



Upstairs Simon examined the device more closely. It was exquisitely well made, every surface polished like glass with a perfect chrome-like finish. The ring above his testicles would be completely impossible to remove, unless he castrated himself. The ring around the base of his penis was attached directly to this lower ring with two smaller rings either side. So this to could not be released. He tried to pull the head of his penis out of the thimble, but it had a circular ridge running around the base holding it in position. There was also a silver mesh guard from the thimble back to the second ring, making it impossible for him to touch himself, or pull on anything. He was completely trapped by this simple, but beautifully engineered contraption.



Simon showered quickly and bounced his way downstairs in jeans and a teashirt, momentarily forgetting about the device and looking forward to spending their first day of married life together back home.



Breakfast was a happy affair. They talked about the wedding and their honeymoon, and afterwards downloaded all their photographs and pinged some of them off to their friends on Facebook.



Simon cleared up the breakfast table whilst Sophie finished off the photographs and started to sort out their wedding presents.



As Simon looked out of the window washing up Sophie casually dropped into the conversation.



“Mummy is coming to stay for a few days this afternoon. Can you put new sheets on the bed and then go to the supermarket. I will write a list for you.”



Simon turned and looked at Sophie, the water dripping down his arms off his wife’s pink rubber gloves.



“Haven’t we seen quite a bit of her lately. I thought she would want a break after all those wedding preparations.”



Simon’s voice sounded a little desperate. The fact was that he really didn’t get on with Sophie’s mother Helen very well at all. He had tried to, but always got the impression that she thought her daughter could have done a lot better. Sophie had always dismissed this, saying that she was like that to everyone, and you just had to give it time. But Simon wasn’t sure. In fact he had felt increasingly uncomfortable in the weeks leading up to the wedding, as Helen had increasingly excluded him from any of the arrangements, belittling or even completely ignoring any of his suggestions.



In the end it was simply easier to let Sophie and his mother get on with it, and he had buried himself in his work, turning up when he was needed for rehearsals or to brief the best man and page boys.



“Shall I tell her not to come then Simon?”



Sophie sat back on her chair, her legs now crossed up on the kitchen table. Simon for the first time in his life felt just a little emasculated. Sophie looked magnificent. Her long legs and pointed ankle boots gave her an air of absolute authority. He, by comparison stood at the kitchen sink, wearing pink washing up gloves feeling the pressure growing against the restraint between his legs. It started to hurt and he had to turn away momentarily to let his mind turn to less interesting subjects than his wife’s legs.



“I didn’t say that, Soph. Of course it is fine. I’ll change the bed and then go out.”



Mummy is coming for a week Simon, and you can add another three days to your chastity. So that is six so far.”



Simon winced.



“Sorry, I meant Sophie. Sorry honey.”



“I accept your apology Simon, but it is now six days.”



Simon decided not to say another thing.



Upstairs the spare room bed was in a mess. His wife appeared to have slept fitfully, the sheets were crumpled and the duvet lay in a heap on the floor. As he changed the sheets he noticed that they were just a little damp. He lifted the undersheet to his nose and smelt her familiar scent, musty and erotic.



As he changed the sheets he noticed a tiny ball under the pillow. He picked up a soaking white thong, that had been deliberately rolled into a ball and stuffed under the pillow. He unravelled the soft cotton material and brought it up to his nose. The scent was quite intoxicating, and again he felt a painful pressure between his legs. He squeezed the material, soaking his fingers.



Simon’s mind raced. What had she been doing last night?



Sophie shouted upstairs.



“Mummy will be here at three Simon, and I want you back by then. You also need to fill the car up and wash our holiday clothes. Chop, chop.”



That was quite enough. Simon stomped downstairs and confronted Sophie in the hall.



“and what are you intending to do Soph, whilst I run the household?”



Simon looked at her, hands on hips, waiting for a response.



“I, Simon, am going to have at least nine days with an awful lot of time on my hands it would seem.” Sophie emphasised the number nine, then slowly picked up her keys and sports bag and opened the front door.



“You can walk to Waitrose, I am going for a swim. Be back by three Simon, I mean it. Oh, and you can put my thong in the wash too, if of course you have finished playing with it, that is.”



The door closed. Simon could still hear his wife laughing as she closed the car door and turned on the ignition. His knuckles were white, and he noticed that in his anger he had unconsciously squeezed every drop of his wife’s most intimate juices onto the parquet flooring. The ache between his legs intensified, the head of his penis pressing hard against the inside of the inside of the thimble.



‘Why am I so angry and so aroused?’ Simon thought to himself.



When Sophie returned she had the breezy, happy demeanor of a girl who had had a really good workout. Her hair was still wet and she simply glowed with health and vitality. Simon was busily unpacking bags on the kitchen table, hot and bothered from his long walk down to the supermarket and back.



Sophie’s mobile rang as she closed the front door and she went upstairs, talking excitedly to a friend about her wedding and honeymoon. Simon began to feel a bit alone, and for the first time in a fortnight began to look forward to getting back to the office in the morning.



Helen looked like an older version of her daughter. The same blonde hair and clear skin. The same serene confidence, the same piercing steely blue eyes. She was an inch or two shorter than Sophie, her waist had thickened, just a little, but her legs were still shapely and elegant.



As she sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea, Sophie and Simon talked through their holiday photographs. Helen tried to look interested as near identical photographs of tanned, smiling faces, cheek to cheek, came on screen, each one framed against another ‘iconic’ Venetian landmark.



Helen sighed to herself like a bridge, keeping the joke to herself. It lightened the tedium momentarily.



“So, Simon, how are you enjoying married life so far?” His mother-in-law put her empty cup down slowly, pushing the cup towards Simon. Both women turned to Simon, folding their arms and leaning back awaiting with interest his response.



“Well, it is has only been half a day, Helen, but so far so good.” He laughed nervously. Neither Helen or her daughter said anything.



“I understand that arrangements for the first twelve days have already been made Simon?”



Simon blushed red, looking first at his mother-in –law and then his wife.



“I don’t know what you mean Helen?” Simon replied quickly, sounding a little nervous, casting an angry glance at his wife.



“I think you will find that you do Simon. In fact I think you will find that all three of us know, and it is fifteen now, and will continue to rise until you learn o address me properly.”



Simon’s anger and embarrassment peaked. He just couldn’t bear this any longer and he stood up and left the room. In the hall he buried his head in his hands mouthing the words ‘What on earth is happening here,’ before walking upstairs slowly, just to get away. His balls began to ache. The pressure increased as he ran over Helen’s words once against in his head. ‘This is madness. This has just got to stop.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, he had never felt so humiliated, or som alone.He didn’t emerge again until supper.



Just before 11pm Sophie and her mother met upstairs in the hall.



“Mummy, just leave your washing in the laundry basket in the bathroom and it will be sorted.”



“Thank you dear, I will. Goodnight.”



“Night, night Mummy, don’t let the bed bugs bite. There is a pile of towels for you in the bathroom. Help yourself. “



Sophie gave her mother a quick goodnight kiss. Sophie, wearing a large bath sheet, a towel wrapped around her head, padded across the hall, steam still billowing from the bathroom.



Simon finished clearing up downstairs, locked the back door and made his way upstairs.



Helen stood at the entrance to the bathroom.



“Goodnight Simon. Everything locked up safely?” She half smiled at him, looking momentarily at the stairs, but they both knew what she meant. A moment of silence, then Mrs Chandler turned around.



“Goodnght Simon. Now, where IS that laundry basket?”



Simon had an adrenalin rush. He watched his mother-in-law’s curvaceous full bottom as she pulled the light switch on and entered the room. She knew precisely what he was thinking, and the thrill Helen felt almost took her breath away.



Simon couldn’t sleep. He just lay there, looking at a small chink of light from the streetlamp outside spread across the ceiling. He looked at the now silent alarm clock. 2.46am. Curled up in the duvet, motionless, Sophie’s breath was slow and even, her back towards him. This gave Simon some confidence.



Simon’s hand went down to the strange contraption between his legs. He had almost got used to the pressure. It was near constant now.



He started to think about Mrs Chandler’s comments in the hall.



‘ Where is that laundry basket? Where IS that laundry basket? He started to feel hot. A picture of his mother-in-law came into his head. The tightly fitting skirt stretched across her bottom. The voluptuous curve of her hips. Her slightly thickened waist. The back of her neck. His fingers ran across the smooth metal rings. Where IS that laundry basket? He saw her fingers, behind her back, unclipping her skirt. Watched the zip slowly open.



Simon’s head went back, his mouth opened, he could hear his heart beating faster and faster. He thought about the lid of the laundry basket. ‘Here it is Mrs Chandler. Here it is.’ His legs started to shake, something had started, and he knew it wasn’t going to stop now. He tried so hard not to make a sound, his head spun, where is is is is…his fingers fluttered against his testicles, the pressure became intense. The skirt fell to the floor. He whispered under his breath:-



“Let me help you Mrs Chandler.”



Then Simon let out a tiny gasp of pleasure. His mind raced. He wanted to be in that bathroom more than anything in the world. A tiny jewel appeared through the thimble, and Simon rubbed his finger tips together, feeling the lubrication. Helen hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pantyhose and lent forward. But, it was just impossible, he knew he couldn’t cum, the pressure increased until he thought his penis would just burst. Tears came into his eyes. The pain took over. He had to think of something else. Mrs Chandler’s bottom began to appear over the waistband of her black panties. “Count sheep…1,2 3, 4. This is just awful.’ The frustration was unbearable. But Simon knew he just couldn’t cum.

Eventually he must have fallen asleep. Next to him, listening carefully to every sound, eyes wide open, her breath slow and even, Sophie planned her day.



Mrs Chandler and Sophie were talking downstairs. Simon could hear them in the kitchen. The kettle on the Aga whistled momentarily and then stopped. Simon heard the clink of crockery as he glanced at the laundry basket and then back to the bathroom mirror. He ground his teeth hard down onto his toothbrush and scrubbed away frantically.



Simon looked again at the laundry basket as he lent forward to rinse out his mouth under the tap.



The contraption between his legs moved as Simon lifted the lid. His hand started to shake. He touched the soft black lace trim. Why was this just so erotic. The pain intensified and he had to close the lid. He could barely stand upright. More sheep. 1, 2, 3, 4.



Simon walked into the kitchen 20 minutes later, and plucked a piece of dry toast from the rack as he pulled his suit jacket on, and looked at the kitchen clock.



“Back to reality now Simon. Are you ready to face the office again?”



Mrs Chandler sat at the table in a blue satin dressing gown, legs crossed exposing her leg above the thigh. Simon bit into his toast and as he glanced at his mother-in-law’s legs he was reminded of his new adornment once again.



“Not looking forward to all those e-mails. I have to run. Bye Mrs Chandler, bye Soph, urm Sophie I mean.”



“Goodbye Simon.”



Sophie remained seated presenting her cheek to her husband. She felt a hard crumb of toast as Simon’s lips touched her cheek, and brushed it away in disgust.



“Eighteen days Simon. Eighteen.”



Simon turned and looked at his wife as he left the room.



“I have to take your first answer Simon. You know the rules.”



Helen and Sophie looked at each as the front door closed. They were going to have a very, very long chat.



Chapter 2.



“But Sophie. Eighteen days. We have just got married. Shouldn’t we be more, you know, intimate.” Simon looked at his wife across the dinner table. It was Tuesday evening, Mrs Cgandler was in the bath, and the laundry basket was filling up..



“Of course we will be intimate Simon. Sex is as important to me as to you, really it is. But that doesn’t mean you have to be erect, and doesn’t mean you have to orgasm. In fact the very fact that I am denying you both of those things increases my sexual appetite immensely. I am enjoying this.”



Simon looked at his wife. She smiled at him kindly, hooked her hair behind her ears as she always did when about to read, licked her finger and turned over the page of the newspaper in front of her.



“In fact, I think that we shall retire early tonight. All this talk of chastity is making me feel a bit frisky.”



Simon looked at his wife. How beautiful she looked. A wave of affection came over him and he stretched out his hand, touching the tip of her fingers.



“That’s better. You just need to trust me Simon, then everything will be just wonderful.” Sophie patted the top of his hand. Now go and take Mummy a cup of tea and I will be up shortly.



Simon dutifully made Mrs Chandler a cup of Earl Grey and took it upstairs. He tapped gingerly on the bathroom door.



“I have brought you some tea Mrs Chandler.” Simon said, his face close to the door.



“You can come in, I am quite decent, Simon.”



Simon opened the door slowly. Mrs Chandler, in her satin dressing gown was moisturizing her face with cotton wool.



“Leave it next to the bath Simon please. I will take it through to my room in a minute.”



Simon looking awkward and uncomfortable but did as he was told and then quickly started to leave the bathroom.



“Well goodnight then. See you in the morning.” Simon said.



“Simon, haven’t you forgotten something?”



Simon turned to see Mrs Chandler pointing at the floor. Simon went red. He had pretended not to notice his mother-in-laws underwear when he entered the room.



“It certainly doesn’t belong there, now does it?”



Simon, for a moment didn’t know what to do next. He stood there just staring at the floor. He felt completely humiliated. Bending down, with Mrs Chandler looking down at him, he picked up his mother-in-law’s ivory knickers, a matching bra and a very expensive pair of cream coloured tights. He quickly dropped them in the laundry basket and stood up.



“Good boy. You can go now.” Mrs Chandler turned back to the mirror in silence. As he walked out into the hall Sophie was approaching the top of the stairs.



“You look a bit pink Simon. Anything wrong?”



“He got a bit flustered when I asked him to put my underwear in the basket, dear,” Mrs Chandler answered from the bathroom.



“I see, Mummy. Well perhaps it gave him a little thrill.”



“Sophie! For heaven’s sake.” Simon sounded incredulous.



Sophie laughed. “Am I embarrassing you dear. Don’t you want Mummy to know you are turned on by her underwear. “



“Sophie! Please. I am not. I just brought her a cup of tea.”



“Would it embarrass you if you picked up my underwear Sophie?”



Mrs Chandler stood at the bathroom door, reveling in the dramatic scene evolving in front of her.



“I just tidied up. That was all. I am going to bed. This is just nonsense.”



“You will do no such thing Simon. We are going to get to the bottom of this, right now.”



“This is ridiculous. Why are you humiliating me like this.”



Sophie ignored her husband and turned to her mother.



“Simon lay in bed last night playing with himself and whispering your name under his breath Mummy. Had you been flirting with him before you went to bed?”



Simon looked at his wife, in a rush of adrenalin.



“Ah. I can see what happened now.”



Mrs Chandler nodded slowly.



“I can see exactly what happened now. Did you have a little look last night Simon, before you went to bed.”



Simon tried to look as if he didn’t have a clue what Mrs Chandler meant.



Sophie looked at her husband, trying to disguise how excited she felt, and thought to herself



‘Oh this is just too perfect. I don’t want this evening to end.’



“Well, there is only one way to find out. In the bathroom Simon, right now.”



Sophie grabbed her husband firmly by the arm and marched him in front of the laundry basket. Mrs Chandler closed the door and locked it.



“On your knees Simon, I am going to unlock you for this little test.”



“Mummy, can I have the key I gave you.”



Mrs Chandler unhooked a thin gold chain from around her neck and handed it to her daughter. She then knelt down behind Simon and held him firmly by his arms. He started to struggle but Sophie grabbed him tightly by the balls until he calmed down, and then began carefully to remove the chastity device.



Simon started to count sheep.!, 2, 3 4. Sophie opened the laundry basket and pushed Simon’s head forward.



“Open your eyes dear. It is only laundry after all.”



Simon opened his eyes and looked inside. He must not get excited. He must not get excited.



His mind started to race. ‘Where is that laundry basket?’ ‘Let me help you Mrs Chandler.’ Stop it. Stop it. Think of something else. ‘I can see her gusset now, look, soiled and still warm.



“Well, well, well. Did you lie to me Simon? ”



Sophie stroked the back of Simon’s hair softly



Simon’s erection was hard and stiff, throbbing against his stomach. Tears started to flow down his face. He couldn’t resist it any longer. Despite the humiliation, the exquisite embarrassment of the moment, he found himself in the most erotic place he could possibly imagine.



“Yes Sophie. I am sorry.”



Once again he looked into the basket.



“Go on Simon, tell Mrs Chandler the truth.”



“I did look in the basket Mrs Chandler. Last night. I did, and it felt so lovely. I touched your panties, I thought about you Mrs Chandler, I wanted to stay there all night.”



Simon found himself enjoying telling the truth, there were no more lies , it felt almost cathartic. He began to lose control, and large globules of cum splashed and spluttered in an arc landing in a creamy mess all over Mrs Chandler’s soiled knickers. The release was intense. He could have died and gone to heaven at that precise moment, and it would not have mattered. The room fell silent. The deed was done, and nothing would ever be the same again for Simon.



“Well. I’m off to bed. See you in the morning Sophie. I’ll leave you to lock up, if I may.”



Mrs Chandler spoke in a matter of fact way, without emotion, and left the room, ignoring her son-in-law completely.



“Goodnight Mummy. Yes, I’ll make sure everything is secure.”



Simon just knelt there, head bowed, feeling his wife’s arm across his shoulder, holding him tenderly. She came closer, and whispered into his ear.



“Thirty days to please me. Thirty days to please Mummy. Thirty days of complete honesty, Simon. What a loving, considerate, docile little creature you will be for us. Hmmm?”



Simon, humiliated, broken, could only nod. The only way he thought he could live with the humiliation was to do exactly as he was told. In a few short hours his wife and mother-in-law had burnt all his bridges. There was only one thing to do. Go along with it, and as he quietly made that decision, a strange peace descended upon him.



Sophie busied herself re-fitting the contraption. She was going to have a lot of fun in bed with her husband tonight, and every second would be on her terms.







Chapter 3.



The next morning Simon came down and sat quietly at the breakfast table. Sophie and her mother, both dressed, sat next teach other, and as Simon walked into the kitchen they closed the lid on Sophie’s laptop and looked up.



“I apologise for lying to you Mrs Chandler. I deeply desire your affection, and control and the sight of your underwear drives me quite mad with desire. I can’t wait until the laundry basket is full and hope that I may wash each item for you by hand.”



“Go on Simon.” Sophie prompted.



Simon, bright red, continued, looking up briefly at the two ladies in his life, and then quickly back to the table.



“My wife has put me into chastity to show me that she is in control, and this has made me very happy. I promise also to do everything I can to make you happy too Mrs Chandler.”



Simon thought he would just die from embarrassment, he just couldn’t make eye contact again after that statement, but he could feel his penis straining against the device, and began to feel an incredible rush that excited him in a way he had never experienced before.



“Then I can see that we have made a lot of progress Simon. “



Mrs Chandler stood up, walked over to Simon, and half sat on the table beside him, lifting his face to hers with a single finger hooked under his chin.



“Did you please my daughter last night Simon?”



Simon could not avoid making eye contact. He looked up into his mother-in-law’s steely blue eyes.



“I hope so Mrs Chandler. Miss Sophie was very demanding and I carried out her orders to the best of my ability.”



“Good boy, and today ‘the best of your ability’ will be for me.”



Mrs Chandler stroked Simon’s hair as she spoke. Simon looked across at his wife for direction. The dynamics of the relationship between the three of them was changing so quickly he began once again to feel very insecure.



Sophie just smiled back at him, nodding gently and closing her eyes momentarily. Simon’s heart started to beat faster. The more he let events happen around him without resisting or questioning the more erotic the situation became. He began to forget about the intensity of his humiliation and concentrate instead on the intensity of his feelings for his wife and mother-in-law.



“That is settled then Sophie. Now Simon, we need to consider your behaviour in the bathroom both last night, and indeed the night before.” Mrs Chandler once again lifted Simon’s chin as she spoke.



Simon had thought that the matter had been settled by his confession, but he could tell by Mrs Chandler’s tone that this was most definitely not the case.



“I am going to teach you to have the upmost respect for me Simon, and my possessions. Is that clearly understood?”



Simon’s mouth went dry, and he answered in a thick voice.



“Yes Mrs. Chandler.”



Simon felt Mrs. Chandler’s nail digging into his chin, forcing him to stand up.



“Down on your knees Simon. Do as I say.”



Mrs. Chandler released he finger and Simon knelt before his mother-in-law, looking directly ahead. She remained seated on the table, legs crossed. Simon looked at her beautiful lstocking clad legs, her slim ankles and pale cream stilettos. She always looked so elegant, so sophisticated.



Sophie looked on in silence, her hands around her coffee cup, expressionless.



Mrs Chandler slid off of the table and sat on a chair in front of him.



“Down on all fours Simon.”



Simon moved back slightly and lowered himself down onto his hands, staring at the floor and Mrs Chandler’s shoes, which she kicked off , one by one.



Simon could see the pink polish on Mrs Chandler’s toes through the reinforcement in her stockings. He found his mouth watering, and he didn’t know why.



“Head up Simon. Up,up”. Mrs Chandler lifted her foot up under Simon’s chin encouraging him to raise his head. Then teasingly she rubbed the sole of her foot over Simon’s nose and mouth. He felt the warm, moist nylon against his lips, and breathed in the musty smell. It was just heavenly.



“Lick your lolly for Mummy now, Simon, there’s a good boy.”



Simon looked up into Mrs Chandler’s eyes and let his tongue run along the sole of his mother-in-law’s foot. The sensation on his tongue, the taste, the sweet musty aroma made his penis strain against it’s restraint painfully.



“In we go.” Mrs Chandler sang out, happily.



Mrs Chandler pressed her big toe against Simon’s lips, and gently but firmly pushed inside Simon’s salivating mouth. She loved the sensation of his warm mouth and



the way he rolled his tongue around her toes, sucking them in further and further.



Sophie picked up her mobile and started to film the scene before her., watching her pathetic new husband on his knees, greedily licking and sucking her mother’s feet, totally engrossed. She felt a huge rush of power.



Mrs Chandler pushed all fives toes inside Simon’s mouth., the saliva dribbling down his chin. He wished he could have taken the whole foot inside, he so desperately wanted to please her.



After an hour Mrs Chandler stopped. Her feet were glistening and moist.



“Take my stockings off Simon.”



Simon sat back on his heels and looked up at Mrs. Chandler with glazed eyes, as she sat on the edge of her chair and pulled up her lined skirt almost to the top of her thighs. Simon could clearly see her lace panties as he lent forward and carefully and slowly undid each of her suspenders, rolling the sheer stockings down her thigh, over her knee, calf and then finally her ankle.



Her feet looked even more beautiful without stockings. Her nails were perfectly manicured, her toes straight and smooth. Simon could have just kissed them all day long.



“Put them in the laundry basket Simon, and bring down a fresh pair from my suitcase. Off you go.”



Simon stood up, holding the sodden stockings in his hands as if they were the most precious things he had ever owned. He couldn’t believe how happy he felt just being asked to put some dirty stockings in a basket, and he walked out of the room, his heart beating, knowing that he was once again going to see Mrs Chandler’s underwear. He knelt down in the bathroom and lifted the lid. He could see his cum, dry now, in two lines across his mother-in-law’s black lace panties. He laid the stockings on top with total reverence, as if he was making an offering to the gods, and then shut the lid as softly as he could before entering the spare room.



Mrs Chandler’s had kept the room very tidy indeed. The bed neatly re-made, and a couple of skirts and blouses on hangars at the front of the wardrobe. At the bottom of the bed her large travelling case sat on a long table, unzipped, but with the lid closed.



Simon ran his hands over the surface and opened it up, his mouth dry and with a rushing noise in his ears.



Everything inside had been packed with absolute precision. Two pairs of shoes, a neat pile of panties and matching bra’s, make-up, perfume, and at the side three cellophane packets of stockings. Simon took them out, choosing a light pair that matched the one’s that had spent the last hour in his mouth. As he closed the lid he noticed a white cotton bag, tied up tightly with a drawstring at the top, and wondered what might be in it.



“Having a good look at my underwear are we Simon?”



Simon turned round to see his mother-in-law at the door, one hand on her hips, the other one swinging her shoes, hooked by their heels over her fingers. She swung them nonchalantly by her side as she spoke.



Simon dropped the lid and turned around, still on his knees, blushing scarlet. He said nothing for a moment or two, and then saw Mrs Chandler’s eyebrow raise, as if to warn him of his absolute obligation to tell the truth, to reveal his inner emotions immediately to his mother-in-law and his wife.



“Your possessions are so neatly packed Mrs Chandler. It excited me to see how organized you are, how everything is so ordered.”



Saying nothing, Mrs Chandler closed the door behind her and nonchalantly dropped her shoes on the floor. Walking towards Simon she plucked her stockings from his hand and proceeded to close the curtains.



“Take off your clothes Simon. I am going to introduce you to something very special.”



Simon stood up and slowly pulled his shirt up over his head and unzipped his jeans. Soon he was stepping out of his boxer shorts and stood naked before Mrs. Chandler, who clicked on the bedside lamp.



She stood before him, her mouth inches from him, and he felt her sweet warm breath on his cheek. He dared not move as she ran her fingers down his chest and stomach, and trummed her fingers teasingly on his captured penis. It ached and strained, and he desperately hoped that he would be released. He had never wished for anything more in his life, such was the intensity of his desire.



“We are going to make love Simon, but with a difference.” As she spoke these words Simon watched her open her case and take out the white cotton bag.



“Open it Simon, and tell me what you see.”



Simon took the bag from Mrs Chandler with both hands and pulled open the drawstring. Inside he found a long hard plastic penis attached to a wide latex belt and two adjustable leg straps.



Simon immediately thought that he was going to be violated by this hideous object, and looked horrified.



“Put it on Simon.”



“On me Mrs Chandler?” S



imon didn’t know whether he felt relief or terror.



Simon could see from the expression on Mrs Chandler’s face that she was not going to enter into any form of discussion. Simon stepped into the wide latex band and pulled it up over his knees. As he pulled it up it got tighter and tighter and he had to struggle to get it over his buttocks and settle it across his hips. The leg straps were adjustable and Mrs. Chandler helped wrap them around the top of his thighs, pulling the buckles tightly at the back of each leg.



The base of the phallus was slightly concave and pressed harad against his restrained penis, restricting him further, and preventing any form of swelling.



Simon had the strangest sensation. He was about to make love to his mother-in-law, without any sexual involvement at all, totally restrained, but expected to perform entirely for Mrs Chandler’s own pleasure. This was an almost mind bending experience.



Mrs Chandler pouted, running her fingers along the fat pink phallus, looking directly into Simon’s eyes.



“Poor little thing. All hard for Mummy and you can’t feel a thing.”



Simon’s feelings were driving him mad with desire and frustration. The power this woman had over him was one of the most erotic feelings he had ever had, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

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