Femdom Clothing Ch. 03: Charity Shop

Copyright Oggbashan October 2017/September 2019

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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It began after the Chamber of Commerce retired members' Friday lunch time dance. Anita had worn a high necked royal blue ball gown. She and it were spectacular but she had needed my help to dress herself. The upper sections of the dress were nude material and the long zip was difficult to close because the material near the upper end was lightweight. The last six inches had to be zipped very carefully to avoid jamming.

"Harry?" She had called downstairs as I was setting the slow cooker timer to start a casserole for the evening. "Can you zip me up, please?"

I didn't answer. I set the timer and went upstairs. Anita had put her arms in the sleeves of the dress and couldn't reach the back zip. It took me at least a minute to close that zip carefully. Anita's massive skirt dented as I closed the zip. When I had finished she shook the skirt and petticoats to restore the domed shape. It was pointless. The skirt would get squashed again in the taxi on the way to the dance.

I enjoyed dancing with my wife, as usual. She enjoyed herself too, sometimes flirting with the older men of the Chamber of Commerce. Why not? We have been married for thirty years and our two children are married and established in their own homes. We might have our first grandchild soon. I was flirting and dancing with some of the older ladies. It was part of our enjoyment of the event. But it reminded me just how much I liked seeing Anita in a big-skirted ball gown. I knew she wasn't wearing panties under her petticoats. She had hold-up stockings but a nude pussy. I wanted to get between her legs almost all the time she was wearing that gown... Anita knew and played on it.

As we went upstairs to change after returning home she was ahead of me, swishing her skirt to show me her stocking-clad legs and a flash of naked thigh. She was teasing me. In the bedroom she turned her back to me.

"Unzip me, Harry, please?" she asked.

"Not yet," I answered. "You know what I want first, Anita."

"That's not fair," she said. "You know I can't get this gown off by myself."

"I know," I retorted. "That's one the reasons I like it when you wear it."

She wasn't serious. She knew what I wanted to do. She was playing reluctance.

"OK, Harry. I'll let you - on one condition."

"And that is?" I was getting excited.

"Tomorrow evening I dress you and I have the fun. I've got a new acquisition from the charity shop. I think you'll like it. I know I will. Just like this gown you won't be able to undress yourself."

Anita is a volunteer in one of our local charity shops for one afternoon a week. Sometimes she comes home with something that hasn't sold but is suitable for our dressing-up games in the bedroom. She seemed really enthusiastic about the latest item. I hadn't seen it yet, but if it had that effect on her, it must be good.

"You win, Anita. You dress me tomorrow," I answered.

Anita's response was to lift her skirt and petticoats. I crawled under to put my face between her legs. I kissed each bare thigh above her stocking tops as she let the skirt and petticoats fall around me. I was in a warm dim place, breathing her perfume, very close to an expectant pussy. I moved to kiss it but had to shuffle on my knees as Anita retreated.

She sat on the edge of the bed with her legs spread. I kissed, licked and tongued. Her hands pressed her petticoats and skirt around my head, forcing me closer in. As my tongue penetrated her, her legs scissored around my head. I couldn't withdraw if I wanted to. I concentrated on arousing her as much as I could. Her skin was getting warmer and her moans above me encouraged me to greater efforts. As she shuddered into her first orgasm the pressure of her hands and legs nearly smothered me under layers of rustling material. I forced my head away slightly to grab some air before arousing her again, and again, and again. She was squealing now and her orgasms were happening at shorter intervals. Eventually her hands lifted and her legs relaxed.

I stayed slumped against her pussy, still confined under her skirt and petticoats. I had come into my boxers, all I was wearing. Anita might complain at the extra washing but we both knew she didn't mean it.

Ten minutes later we were lying together on the bed. I was wearing clean boxers and cuddling Anita in her short slip. I had unzipped her dress, now hanging on the outside of the wardrobe. We stayed together just enjoying being in each other's arms for another half hour. We dressed and carried on with the evening.

Tonight? We'll make love again nude. But making love dressed up excites us far more.

+++

As Anita had asked, Saturday evening I had shaved and showered. I walked into our bedroom. I had expected to see whatever Anita had brought laid out on our bed. There was nothing there except some long white satin gloves.

"Gloves first, Harry," Anita ordered.

I put the gloves on. They were a heavier weight material than usual. Anita tugged them up until they almost met my shoulders.

"You'll need some shape tonight," She said, producing a long line bra from a drawer. I recognised it. Anita had padded it to give me substantial breasts. It was the largest version giving me shape. Whatever I was to wear it must be large if I needed that much bust.

She helped me put on a knee length full slip before adding a wide waist petticoat. Over that she fastened a five hooped petticoat.

"I thought of blindfolding you so you don't see what's next," Anita said, "but I'll need your cooperation, so I won't - yet."

She opened the wardrobe and lifted out a large dress bag. She put it on the bed before unzipping it to show a mass of white material.

"It's a wedding dress, slightly large for you, but we couldn't sell it. It had a long tear in the train. The only potential bride of the right size didn't want an obvious repair. I have repaired it as carefully as I could. The mend still shows. It doesn't matter for our playing around. Kneel down."

It was difficult to kneel with the hooped petticoat. Anita lifted the dress over my head. The stiffly lined skirt covered the hoops. The bodice fell in front of me.

"Getting your arms in is the difficult part. The sleeves are slim. They might have been too narrow for that bride anyway."

Anita was right. Feeding my gloved hands and arms into the gown's sleeves took time. The last part of each sleeve had almost invisible zips. As Anita closed them the sleeves clamped over my lower arms and were tight around my wrists. Until the zips were opened, and probably not even then, I couldn't get my gloved hands out of the sleeves. Wearing gloves I couldn't operate the zips.

"I made this accessory specially," Anita said.

She pulled a veil over my face. It wasn't a veil. It was a hood made from a bridal veil. She fastened it loosely around my neck. I could see through it but it was a close fit. I appreciated her perfume on it.

"And the back zip. You couldn't close or open this zip, even if you weren't wearing gloves. It is hidden by fake buttons and once I press down the Velcro, like this, you can't get at it. That's my revenge for yesterday."

It can't have been. She must have prepared the dress and hood before yesterday. Once Anita had closed the zip and covered it, the veil hood was inside the high collar of the gown.

"Do you think you could get this wedding gown off, Harry?"

"No. Even without the gloves I couldn't."

I might be able to lift the skirt, perhaps untie the fastening on the hoops and step out of that. I don't think I could, not wearing those satin gloves. Apart from that, I couldn't get at the back zip nor the zips on the sleeves.

"Good. You're my prisoner in a wedding gown. Now..."

Anita dropped to her knees in front of me before burrowing under the massive skirt. She gently slid her hands up my thighs before her mouth reached my erection. She caressed it with her tongue slowly. I was very afraid that she would go too far too soon. I tensed myself. She pushed the skirt and petticoats upwards before her mouth took the tip of my erection inside. Within less than I minute I had come into her mouth. I enjoy being helpless as she arouses me and this time was special.

Anita licked my floppy penis before emerging from under the skirt.

"While I wait for you to be ready again you're going to be really wrapped as my satin sheathed present."

I didn't know what she meant. She pushed me towards the bed, turning me so I faced it. Her hands gently pulled on one of my arms. I let her bring it behind my back. I felt her push it into a fold of slithery material. She did the same with my other arm. The material tightened around my wrists like very soft handcuffs.

"I adapted the bow on the back," she said conversationally. "Try to pull your hands out now."

I tried. The gown billowed as I struggled in vain. My hands were securely trapped. I could pull them sideways but not out of that bow.

"It worked! I hoped it would. Now..."

She pulled the long train out behind me. I turned my head to look. The train was longer than the space between our bed and the wall. Anita picked up the far end of the train before pulling it over my head and down in front of me. Although the train was made of white satin I was plunged into darkness. My whole upper body was covered by the train. It was even wider than the massive skirt. Anita wound it around me, pulling the edges behind my back.

She pushed me forward onto the bed. She climbed on the bed and dragged my body towards the pillows. As she pulled the train tightened over my head. My own weight was pinning it as a bag covering me.

"One last touch," Anita said. "This dress needs white stockings. They're not. They're white pantyhose better for this."

She tied my ankles together, then above my knees before flipping the skirt back down. I was having difficulty breathing inside the train as she slid more pantyhose under my chest and tied it behind my back over my pinioned arms.

"There you are, Harry. You're my bound bride. Enjoy!"

I had to pant for breath before I could answer.

"I'm your suffocating bride," I retorted. "Much longer and I'll be a deceased bride..."

"Oops! OK. I'll let you breathe but you're staying bound. Move your hands sideways."

Anita unfastened the pantyhose around my chest before rolling me on my back. I could just get my hands beside my body. She lifted the train from in front of me before piling it in folds around my head. I was looking up at her from inside a deep frame of satin train. I could breathe even through the veil hood. She replaced the pantyhose around my chest.

She flipped up the gown's skirt and pushed the hooped petticoat up to an arc around my waist. She shuffled up my bound legs until she could lower herself on my erection. As she began to move up and down on me her hands pushed the hooped petticoat and gown's skirt upwards until I was looking at them poised a foot above my face, already deep between layers of white satin.

As she brought herself to one orgasm after another the skirt above me became closer until I was almost surrounded by white satin. After her last and most shattering orgasm she pushed the skirt on my face with her weight behind her hands and arms. I was completely hidden and struggling to breathe under layers if wedding dress as I erupted into Anita. Seconds later Anita moved backwards and uncovered my face so I could breathe.

What else will Anita bring home from the charity shop? That wedding dress is now part of our wardrobe for bondage play.