Made to Obey Ch. 06

There was, thankfully, no sign of Penny, although in a crowd of some 250 people, she was hardly likely to stand out.

"How's things going young Carl? Been a while since we met. Glad you could come tonight." I felt a friendly hand on my shoulder and knew from the voice who it was.

"Oh, hi Moggsy. Fine thanks. Lovely evening, lovely spread -- as usual."

"Ruth looks ravishing tonight -- no change there though. You could spear a minke whale with her high heels," he joked.

"Yeah, and Sandra looks her usual million dollars too."

We made a bit more small talk and I ventured to ask if he minded my asking his P.A. for the extra invitations. He looked a bit confused before it clicked.

"Oh, - that's right. No problem. For that young girl that works with Ruth -- Penny isn't it? Yes, she's one smart cookie that one, got her ear to the ground alright."

"So, you've met her already then? I haven't seen her here yet. She seemed very keen to get here tonight though, why was that?"

"She must have heard me on a local late-night chat show last week. The DJ played a few of the hits from acts I'd been associated with and then he asked me who or what I thought might be the next big thing on the pop scene. I told him that there was a potentially big opportunity for a young LGBT act, a gap in the market to fill. It seems Penny's partner has a sister who's part of just such an act -- an LGBT trio. She brought her partner along and they made themselves known to me. I agreed to listen to a demo from the group. That's why she pushed you for the invite, I guess. I will listen to it, I promised them; told them to send me a demo or at least send it to my P.A."

"Look Moggsy, I apologise. I never knew she was out to push anything."

"It's no big deal Carl. Hey, guess what name this trio have -- they're all lesbians by the way?"

"Go on, I give up. What?"

"The Clitorettes!"

We both guffawed and took a glass of wine from the nearby table and started to walk out into the garden.

"Hey Moggsy, am I imagining things, but were you one of the those who, years ago, warned me off chatting up Ruth's sister Esther?"

"Yeah, I was. Why? You're not regretting it are you?"

"No, no. Ruth's the pick, no regrets. Just wondered if you were one of the ones who told me to steer clear."

Sandra, a small, trim woman about Donna's age had been walking our way and had now joined us. Unlike her husband whose long hair was now totally grey, hers was still jet black, (I wondered if her pubes were too). She had piercing, seductive brown eyes and only the slight wrinkling of her tanned skin -- a result of too many hours in the tropical sun I imagined -- would have marked her down as over 50. She was an occasional "lady-who-lunched" with Donna's crowd and knew the Gifford family well.

"Hi guys," she stood on her toes a little and I leant down to kiss her on the cheek. "What are you chatting about?"

"Carl was just asking me if I'd warned him off trying his luck with Esther, before he fell for Ruth."

"And were you?"

"Yes, I reckon I was. Pretty as Esther is, I wouldn't wish her on a friend."

I pushed Moggsy for more. "Why, what had she done to merit that opinion? I know she took her ex to the cleaners in the divorce, but he was a lazy alcoholic bum, wasn't he? That wasn't her fault surely?"

Sandra and Moggsy shot one another a look as though they were trying to figure out if they should tell me more. Moggsy shrugged his shoulders a little and, looking around to make sure no one else was in earshot, proceeded to elaborate.

"Look, this is only second-hand, alright? I might be completely wrong so don't quote me. But it seems her ex, Alan was it?"

Sandra nodded.

"Yes. This Alan had been caught chatting up some other woman, hadn't actually done anything if he were to be believed. Esther didn't blow her top but..."

"Now, now Moggsy," Sandra interrupted, "it's only hearsay. Perhaps leave it there now. It's history after all."

"Aw, c'mon, you can't leave it hanging in mid-air like that. I won't mention it to anyone, I promise," I pleaded.

Moggsy took another look at Sandra who sighed in disapproval but didn't tell him to stop.

"Well Esther didn't go into a rage or anything; kept her powder dry so to speak. Then, one night when he came home blind drunk, she..."

"Go on, you can't stop now."

Sandra raised her eyebrows in disapproval, knowing he was going to finish the story.

"She undressed him and, wait for this, fitted some sort of chastity device on him. Then put a pair of tiny briefs on him. When he woke up, he was fuming, but she kept him under strict control -- in the sex department that is -- from then on. She'd taken pictures of him in it too. That's why he turned to drink I reckon. He only got freed when he agreed to the divorce on her terms otherwise, she'd have sent the pictures to his friends and family. Anyway, that's the story I heard."

Sandra laughed at my interest in the story. "Let that be a warning to you Carl, don't mess with the Gifford women."

Although said in fun, I did wonder if she didn't have more knowledge about a darker side to the women than was apparent to me.

"Well, if you men want to gossip like two characters in a soap opera, count me out. I'm going off to mingle with some of our other guests."

Sandra walked away and, once out of hearing distance, Moggsy turned to me and smiled.

"I don't know why she's so uppity about gossip, it was her who told me! And, calling us gossips is rich, it was Donna who told her!"

"Wow, that would drive a man to drink," I said. "You don't think Donna put Esther up to it do you?"

"Mm, maybe, it's possible I suppose. She's not one to cross in a hurry either so I'm told.; she's no great fan of the male species I reckon, perhaps because Max pisses her right-off sometimes. Mind you, whichever of the two was behind it, Alan should never have stood for it; he could've gone to the police as a last resort; called her bluff, but he wimped it. Incredible eh?"

"Yeah, Moggsy, incredible," I smiled, conscious of my current status with my dick trapped in a chastity cage and wearing a small silky scarlet pair of Donna's old panties.

Later on, that evening, I caught up with Ruth and, to my consternation, noticed Penny approaching us as we chatted. Alongside her was, who I was soon to find out, her partner -- Geraldine, called Geri - not Jerry, and definitely not male -- the tall, rather large lady in the black dress I'd noticed earlier.

Penny introduced Ruth and I to Geri. How can I put this without sounding too harsh? Well, let's just say that Geri was north of 14 stone, a bit of a porker, not morbidly obese; not even ugly, she wasn't like some 1970's female East-German shot-putter. Probably about 40 or so, she struck me as someone who was very pretty as a teenager and the sort who'd have got a job as a beautician at the make-up department in a big store. Over the years, her weight had grown and only her experience on the beauty counter had stopped her employers moving her on. She had black hose on and flat, black shoes. Like I say, her face was pleasant enough, eyes and lipstick clearly very well applied and if she'd stayed at 12 stone or so might have been a stunner. She was pretty, but fat in contrast to Penny, who was, most of the time anyway, skinny and drab. I suppose that makes me sound a bit of a judgemental male-chauvinist.

Until now, I'd no idea that Penny was a lesbian, which shows my absence of a "gaydar". Penny had made quite an effort to scrub-up for the barbecue. Her hair looked shiny and clean and was tied back in a pony tail, her eyes had a touch of make-up on and she was wearing a loose, white blouse and a smart, bum-hugging pair of light-blue brushed denim trousers. She had matching blue shoes with shortish heels. Her slight frame was in complete contrast to her partner. True, Penny was still no glamour-puss, but her petite tits and firm little buttocks had an appeal of their own. There was still an air of a repressed stuffy librarian about her though, and I wondered if she'd ever had sex with the light on. One thing I was sure of though, I bet my panties were sexier than hers or her partner's!

Geri it transpired was not a beautician but the LGBT officer at a local college and had been with Penny for over 3 years. There was nothing in our small talk to suggest that Penny had told her anything about my "other side", and Penny too spoke to me in a manner that was more like it had been before this week (much to my relief); none of this "Carla" nonsense.

The party was still going on when we took our taxi home shortly after 1 a.m. As soon as we got in, Ruth took her (very) high-heels off and let out a gasp of relief.

"Just be thankful you don't have to wear shoes like this. My feet will ache for a week now!"

I was going to reply that she didn't have to wear high-heels that big if she didn't want to, but backed down and instead commented on someone else who couldn't wear such sexy shoes.

"I bet that Geri never wears heels like that. They'd have to be made of steel," I joked.

Ruth tutted at my remark, but seemed in a relaxed mood, more like the Ruth before my "dressing up" day.

I suggested we both had a nightcap, even though we'd both be going to work in a few hours' time. "Why not?" Ruth agreed.

Once settled down with our drinks, Ruth asked me what I made of Geri and Penny as a couple.

"Surprised for one thing, I had no idea Penny was gay, she scrubbed-up well tonight though. I wonder why she doesn't make that effort more often."

"And Geri?"

"If she could lose some weight, she'd be pretty. What a contrast to Penny! Anyway, Geri never gave a hint of knowing about my, you know, indiscretion. So I guess you were right about Penny keeping schtum."

"Well actually, Carla," she smiled as she used my new name, "when I found out what her job was, I asked Penny if she thought Geri could offer some advice. She said try her; she'd never betray a confidence either. So..." Ruth took a deep breath but I already knew what she was going to say.

"I told her. Not every last detail. Not that I'd spanked you. Just that you were heavily into wearing lady's underwear, crossdressing - you know. I hope you don't mind too much. She said she was familiar with this side of men; had even counselled a few in recent years. She did seem very sensible in her analysis and she never let on to you, did she?"

"No. Maybe not. So, what great piece of advice did she give you?"

"Well, you'll be surprised and pleased perhaps. She said that you needed to have normal sex, to see if that got you back into "man" mode and to try and see if you could still satisfy a woman in bed. I'm not sure that horse hasn't bolted though. Could you "rise to the occasion" was how she put it. Penny agreed that was a good idea, to see if you'd gone beyond recall as a proper man -- Penny thinks you have. Anyway, I've decided. You can have sex on Saturday morning but you've got to do exactly as I say, okay?"

Wow, I was so pleased, words failed me for a moment. What a change of attitude. What a good thing Ruth had taken advice from someone other than her mum and Esther. And, it did cross my mind that Ruth might just be craving a bit of man sex too.

Ruth could see I was overwhelmed, relieved and happy.

"You do know Esther's calling round on Saturday evening. So, if it turns out you've been lying to me, I'll have to reconsider your future sexual opportunities. But, as Geri suggested, for now, I should give you the benefit of the doubt and give you the opportunity to man up."

"Wow, thanks Ruth. You won't regret it. I can hardly wait. I don't suppose there's any chance of -- tonight -- you know, starting tonight is there? Saturday seems ages away."

"No Carla." Her voice made it clear she would not change her mind.

"Do exactly as I say, as I order, and you can have "pussy" on Saturday morning, that's actually tomorrow isn't it. Now, I'm off to bed, you should go too. You can help me undress if you like and then get into your nightie and night-time briefs and have sweet dreams.

She gave me a delicious smile. My dick was pushing so hard against the metal now, I thought I might come in it. But I wanted to save all my seed for Saturday; I'd show Ruth what she'd been missing, that, whatever I was clad in, I was still a man, still capable of satisfying her.

My mind was a whirl in bed and sleep didn't come easily. I'd decided to get up that little bit earlier and make Ruth a special breakfast, eager to keep her happy and not to do anything that might make her change her mind. I tried to be as quiet as I could in showering in the bathroom, and then put a short dressing-gown on over my nightie. Creeping downstairs, I prepared scrambled eggs, toast, bacon sausages, mushrooms and fried tomatoes for us, fresh orange juice and freshly percolated coffee too. I was going to take it up to her but I heard her up and about as I was cooking so I waited, somewhat nervously, for her to appear, nervous in case she'd changed her mind about letting me have sex tomorrow morning.

She clearly hadn't though, casually mentioning that I should only have a light breakfast and very little else to eat today as she wanted me to douche tomorrow before things got started. Apart from that, breakfast talk was just mundane, every-day generalities.

We'd both dressed casually for work, Ruth in a summery, yellow floral cotton dress, no hosiery, modest heels and a white jacket. Underneath my male clothes, I was wearing the pink cotton with scarlet-bow panties that I'd been sniffing at Esther's house.

Penny was back to being Miss Drab but said "good morning Carla" with a smile and I responded appropriately enough, ending with the "Miss Penny" she now insisted upon.

Fortunately, I had plenty of work to do that day, quite a lot of it with Ruth. I spent most of the morning in her office, reading and dealing with matters arising from Max's (and our) new venture. There was also a letter from the insurance company, outlining our monthly premiums, how and what date each month the payment would be made and loads of other legalese bumf about Life Assurance. Having to concentrate on all this stuff took my mind off sex -- something that was usually a difficult task in normal circumstances, let alone those prevailing now. I had to make Ruth and Penny's tea and coffee every so often, but apart from that, work took precedence.

There was one brief change of subject though. When Ruth was having her coffee and I'd stopped reading documents and looking at plans to sip my tea. After dunking a Rich Tea biscuit in her drink, she bit into it and then jabbed the dry part that remained in my direction.

"Carla..." she began, "you'll know that Shakespeare quote about love, won't you? From one of his sonnets. 'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds'."

"Yes, what of it?"

"Would you still love me if we never had sex again? Say, if one of us had had an illness or injury, say, that made it physically impossible."

I sensed a potential minefield ahead but figured there was only one answer.

"Of course I would Ruth. That wouldn't alter my love for you."

She finished off the half-dunked biscuit and leant back in her chair, clearly considering my answer, and what -- if anything - to say next. I didn't interrupt her.

"So, say we could have sex but there'd been another "alteration". Say, over the next year or so I became very fat and overweight, so fat in fact that you no longer found me sexy, that you no longer wanted sex with me. Would you still love me then?"

"Why yes, I'd still love you."

"But what if I wanted sex with you even though you found me repulsive. Would you make love to me?"

I tried to figure why, out-of-the-blue, she would be asking me this. I could only conclude that it was her way of saying that I'd altered: I was different from the husband she thought she'd married. Maybe she was trying to work out if she still wanted sex with a man who now wore lingerie, a more submissive man who, maybe, got more turned on by shemales; by cock (although Esther would prove that wrong tomorrow evening).

"Yes, I'd still have sex." I said as sincerely as I could make it sound.

"But Shakespeare was talking about love not sex, wasn't he?" she responded. She then finished her drink, and moved back in her chair towards her desk and made it clear that it was back to work time; she didn't want an answer to her last question.

Although I was slightly on edge for the rest of the day, partly with anticipation, partly trying to fathom out Ruth's reasons for analysing Shakespeare's definition of love, it passed off without incident. I had only a light snack at lunchtime and drank only black tea, to facilitate an effective douche the next morning.

Ruth told me to go to bed early which I did, although it took me a while to drop off. As I lay in bed, I could hear her typing away on her laptop; I assumed it was business.

Early that next morning seemed unreal. I got up extra early to use the bathroom to douche as requested. Ruth then called me into our -- or rather her -- room and, handing me the key, told me to unlock my cage and have a good shower in the en-suite; she'd be at hand to make sure I didn't jerk off. I then put on the knickers she'd left out for me (little black lacy briefs actually, very feminine and hard not to smudge with a little pre-come) and went to give my chastity cage a good wash and dry. Ruth was nearby at all times to make sure I kept my hands off my dick.

Once that was done, I refitted the device and pulled my black panties back over them. It was touch and go getting my semi-aroused cock back in its cage, but I managed without Ruth having to resort to dampening my ardour with ice-cubes or similar.

Ruth then said I should put on clothes for going out and that she was going to get dressed now too.

I didn't argue, but couldn't for the life of me understand why we were going to the trouble of dressing-up when, surely, we'd just have to strip off again to have sex!

Once dressed (in blazer, casual shirt and chinos), I waited for Ruth to appear and tell me what was to happen next. I was still as horny as hell and sensed my balls had been on overtime producing spunk to allow me to come a few times -- when I eventually got the bloody cage off. Maybe that was Ruth's intention, to get me so horny I'd manage to screw her 3 or 4 times in our session. (The best I'd managed in the past was 3, not too often though.)

Ruth came down the stairs in a smart business suit, clutching a handbag and a small gym bag. I gave her a puzzled look but managed to hide my disappointment that she wasn't dressed more erotically, saying she looked smart.

"Thanks. You too Carla. Now, grab this bag and put it in the car. I'm driving, okay?"

What was this? Was she taking me somewhere else to fuck me, was this some new way of hers to heighten my excitement? Was she taking me dogging? I didn't question her; never asked her why all this was necessary but did as I was told. I carried out the bag to the car and took up my position in the passenger seat. Ruth soon nestled into the driver's seat and, after putting her seat belt on, started the engine.

She had a cheerful countenance; the look of a woman totally in control. That should have set alarm bells ringing I suppose, but my dick over-rid my brain, it was going to have sex soon and I'd just have to wait and see what came next.

We'd been travelling a few miles and a number of theories occurred to me. Maybe she'd booked us into a hotel? But logic said no, we'd be arriving before check-in time unless the journey was a very long one and we had to be back home to meet Esther later. I was flummoxed, couldn't think what on earth it was she was doing. I knew she could sense my confusion. Eventually, we turned onto a road and travelled out towards the outskirts of town, to a part of the town I hardly knew and I didn't think Ruth would be too familiar with either.