The Lad in the Lingerie Shop Ch. 11

It must have been well after 10p.m when Anita picked me up from Mitch and Yvonne's room at the hotel. She'd had quite a long conversation with Yvonne when she returned and, judging by the giggling I'd heard, I was the source of their amusement. I stood in obedient silence, waiting for Anita to finish her chat and take me home.

As we walked back through the busy hotel lobby and across the car park, I felt sure people must have been staring at my stocking-tops underneath my too-short dress. Was it my cute, barely-covered cheeks clad in the wispy white panties that were the object of their attention? Or maybe they'd spotted a little drizzle of semen that, unbeknownst to me, had trickled out of my sissy-bum hole on to my stocking tops?

Anita was wearing a wide-grin and I could tell she was just itching to get my account of events.

Once she'd started the car and left the car-park, she turned to me as though expecting me to start filling her in on my experiences, but I never said anything - well, not to begin with.

"Well, are you going to tell me all about your evening?" she eventually asked.

"I thought you knew all about it, after all, you spent all that time talking to Yvonne. What was that about?"

"Well, what we talked about is none of your business, besides; I want to hear it from you - from the sissy's mouth so to speak."

How much did she want me to tell her and in what detail? That Yvonne had spanked me and that I'd been made to suck her toes. That Mitch had then dipped his long pole into his wife's pussy and then made me suck his cock until he came in my mouth. Or did she want a more in depth description? Did she want to know how well-hung Mitch was or how his dick tasted on my tongue or perhaps Yvonne's juices that covered his shaft? Did I swallow it all?

Although, overall, I really enjoyed my subjugation and humiliation, I wasn't yet able to put my feelings into words. I was rather like one of those sportsmen who've just won a major prize and is being interviewed by a reporter asking them to explain just how it felt. I'd need a day or two to be able to express myself properly.

Sure, Anita would have loved hearing how I spent at least five minutes with my face buried in Yvonne's bum cheeks being ordered to thrust my aching tongue further into her anus, but did she want me to tell her how I longed to tongue her labial lips and her ginger pubes that were so tantalisingly nearby? Did she want me to say how sensational it felt to have my face in her butt and my legs wide-open, my tiny panties failing to cover my sissy-pussy? Did she want me to describe the smell of Yvonne's delectable bum and fanny? Or how I'd enjoyed the taste and sensation of having Yvonne's panties stuffed in my mouth?

How could I describe the sensation of Mitch returning to "cover" me like the sissy I was? The sensation of having to suck his dick to full rigidity knowing that, once achieved, it would be pushing its way into my virgin hole? The pain mixed with arousal mixed with the feeling of total humiliation and submission as his length forced its inexorable way, slowly, deliciously into my obedient cavern inch-by-delicious inch, the lubrication just about making his penetration bearable?

And once he was fully in, the retraction and further insertion, repeatedly, steadily, confidently, manly. Yvonne mocking me, calling me "cocksucker", "sissy", "pantie-wearing slut" and suchlike, and how it felt knowing that there was nothing I could do but stay on all fours on the bed and let his dick own me? How could I explain to Anita just how that felt? The feel of my pantie gusset rubbing against my cheek after Mitch had disdainfully moved it to one side so that he could enter me; "own" me; the sensation of my long-line bra-straps slipping onto my arms; the tug of my suspenders on my sexy white stockings, as I was being ridden. And I just had to take it. How could Anita properly realise what I'd experienced no matter how well I tried to convey it to her?

The feeling of being used; of being fucked like a slut. Of having to take whatever my master gave me without complaint as I was a pantie-wearing beta-male whose man-pussy was for others to use as they saw fit and I could not complain. Did she want me to tell her all that? Of the feeling of his warm semen trickling out of my pussy and on to my stocking-tops; of Yvonne laughing and smirking at my abject humiliation; how could I even begin to describe all this and yet admit that I'd felt fulfilled in letting myself be used like this?

Could I tell her without feeling even more ashamed how, when they'd finished with me and I went to freshen up in the bathroom that my little panties and cock cage were covered in my own come and yet I didn't remember coming; that I'd never even got an erection and that she - Anita - was to blame for that? She'd kept hold of the key to my chastity device.

"I'll tell you tomorrow Anita if that's okay. I need time to gather my thoughts."

"Fair enough Roberta and by the way, if you open the glove compartment you'll see an envelope in there with your fee for this evening."

I'd heard the figure of £100 mentioned at some stage during the evening so was greatly disappointed to find just £20.

"Is that all?" I exclaimed. "After all I've been through! He's been sucked-off by me and fucked my virgin bum - which is still sore by the way - and all I get is £20! That neighbour of Joyce's gave me that just for sucking me off. I know you got more. What's going on?"

Anita didn't answer straight away, pretending to concentrate on her driving as we came to a busy junction. Once on clear road again, she gave it to me straight, in a tone that demanded total acceptance.

"How much do you think the bra, panties, stockings and shoes cost? Then there were the butt-plugs and lube. Guess who paid for all that, and the make up? I did, that's who. Just be thankful I had a dress to fit you. So, after deducting my commission and those costs, you're left with that - £20."

She dropped me off at my flat and agreed to come around the next day to go over events in the hope I could give her a proper account after a night's sleep. As I was getting out of the car, (exposing my knickers to anyone who might have been watching as I did so) I remembered to ask her for the key to my chastity cage. I was desperate for a wank; a proper ejaculation not like the sissy one that had simply slipped, barely noticed, out of me at the hotel.

"Oh, I'm sorry Roberta, I can't do that."

I looked at her in anger. Hadn't I done enough to at least deserve that?

"Why ever not? For fuck's sake Anita!"

"Because I don't want you wanking off as soon as you get indoors, that's why. I'm only thinking of you; you need a strong woman - strong women - to save you from yourself. I left it at home but will bring it with me tomorrow."

I shook my head in frustration, but knew it would make things worse for me if I had another go at her.

"But I'm desperate for - you know - some proper, uncaged release. It's been nearly a week now."

"Well Yvonne reckons you had a sissy wank tonight. Is that right?"

I shrugged my shoulders and squirmed in embarrassment.

"But that's not the same. You're not being fair."

"Robert, listen to me, get this straight, it's for your own good. Sometimes I think I know you better than you do yourself. Me and mum, Joyce and now Yvonne, we control your sissy little dick - it's what you want deep down isn't it? Don't worry; you'll get your release soon enough but when isn't down to you; that's how it is for sissy cock-suckers. You've now transferred your power over your sex life to us and deep down; it's what you really desire. Got that?"

I whimpered and stamped my feet a little but sort-of knew she was right.

"Now go indoors, and get changed. Maybe wash those knickers you've got on before I call round tomorrow. Now, I've got to get back home. Sweet dreams."

Once indoors, I made myself a snack as I was, by now, starving, the only thing I'd had to eat all day was Mitch's spunk! I kicked my high-heels off and sat at the table to eat and ponder all that had happened today.

Of course, my head was swimming with thoughts of Yvonne's beautiful body and how I'd satisfied my inner sub, sissy persona. But I now had another thought beginning to nag me.

It was that, somehow, for whatever reason, it wasn't just Anita who was using my sissy, sub self to manipulate and control my life, but her mum - Edna, Joyce and now, maybe even Yvonne too. I no longer had any say in when I could wank off- it all depended on my getting permission from those women. How had I let myself get into this sort of situation?

I carried on pondering this as I ran the bath before preparing for sleep. I brushed my teeth before wriggling out of my dress. Looking in the mirror at my feminine features clad in women's underwear and with my cock safely imprisoned, that feeling of quite enjoying letting powerful women (and men) dominate me returned. Once naked (apart from my cage of course), I had a long bath, once more mulling over how I'd managed to give control of my sex life - even to just merely having a wank - to the women. Was this some sort of deep-rooted, psychological thing that made me like this - perhaps because I'd never known my mother? I also still had this nagging feeling that Anita, Edna and Joyce were somehow co-ordinating their authority over me.

Once dried, I put on a pair of full-bum black nylon knickers and then a recently purchased black baby-doll nightie to go to bed in. Heaven knows how I managed to get any sleep after the day I'd had, but I eventually succeeded.

Anita arrived shortly after 10, by which time I'd washed and changed. I'd left my hair in the more feminine style that had been fashioned the day before and of course my finger and toe nails were still varnished. I'd washed all the make-up and lipstick off my face as best I could after carefully removing my eyelashes.

Apart from giving me the key to my chastity cage, I'd no real idea what else - if anything - Anita had planned.

I'd dressed in a simple black T-shirt and black trousers over a simple pair of yellow panties with a lace-edging.

"Happy now?" She gently tossed the key at me.

I quickly grasped it and turned my back to her as I lowered my trousers and fiddled around with the key and the chastity device, breathing a sigh of relief as I removed my whalebone cage, before hitching my panties and trousers back up. I couldn't really rush off and have a quick wank, as much as I might have wanted to, not with Anita there.

"I thought we might go out to a country pub later and have some dinner. What do you think?"

"Sounds great, but..." I hesitated.

"But what?"

"But do you want to go with me - Robert, or with me 'Roberta'? "

"Who would you rather go as?" she probed.

Before I could consider my answer, Anita answered for me.

"It's going to be Robert regardless of what you'd really like. Seeing as how we've got some time to kill, I thought I'd let you have a little reward for being so honest and accepting who you really are before I help you remove all your nail-varnish and stuff. Here, stand up and help me undress: chop-chop."

I stood open-mouthed wandering just what she intended doing. What was to be my reward?

"Stop daydreaming Roberta; get down to your panties now. I said we'd go for dinner later, in the meantime let's see if you still possess any manhood after getting serviced by Mitch."

What then followed was, arguably, the highlight of my weekend. I helped Anita undress and then, trying to remember all the techniques Angie had taught me, tried to satisfy Anita with both digital and oral arousal and to make her orgasm but Anita, who insisted she went on top, rode me to ejaculation before I could satisfy her.

She looked down upon me as I shot my load, as though she'd won some sort of battle over me and proved her dominance. Although it was a tremendous relief to have come after enduring so much denial, I realised looking down at my spent todger that maybe - when compared to Mitch anyway - I was not every woman's dream of the perfect male sex partner.

"Never mind Roberta, I'm glad you enjoyed that. Remember, I'm bi-sexual too; I like a bit of dick every now and again", before adding with a smirk, "even if it's a bit of a dick in panties."

After washing and removing my toe and nail varnish, I dressed as Robert (albeit back in my chastity cage and a nice, silky pair of purple knickers) and pondered yet again my relationship with Anita and the others who knew of my cross-dressing desires.

I wondered if I'd accepted Edna and Joyce as substitute mothers who knew their 'boy' well enough - as women ought to - to know what's best for horny young men. I had no other family now after all, no close friends, no relatives, only the girls in the shop - they were my family; indeed "The Lingerie Shop" was my world.

Joyce and Edna were older, more worldly-wise than me, if they knew I liked wearing ladies' underwear and thought it best that it was controlled by them in whichever way they thought best, who was I to disagree?

And what of Anita, the University student who would be heading back to London in a week or so? Wasn't she also more worldly-wise and less sexually hung-up than I was even though she was a few years my junior?

It seemed these three women knew better than me just what was needed to keep me happy and satisfy my inner-desires, desires which, if it had been left solely to me, I'd have not had the courage to confront.

When we arrived at the pub and sat down over lunch to discuss recent events (I gave her the bare details of my time with Mitch and Yvonne), I was in a good mood. I'd had sex with Anita and also had my inner sissy-slut desires realised. I trusted Anita's judgement and just accepted her wisdom and opinions without question. Looking back, that afternoon turned out to be one of the most pivotal of my life. It seems odd now that, back then in 1974, I just bought-in to her plans so unquestioningly.

"Sit down there Robert. I'll go to the bar and when I return, I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say, okay?"

I nodded and did as I was told. Soon after, she returned, just with a drink for her, nothing for me.

"Don't worry," she explained, "I'll get your drink soon, after you've heard me out and given me an answer."

"Look Robert," she continued, "I graduate next year - the first in my family ever to do so - I'm ambitious. I want to do something with my life, not just get married and settle down and raise kids. I want money and influence, not to be just some chattel to a man who thinks he must be the bread-winner, the dominant partner. That's where you can help me. We know you're submissive - for heaven's sake, you work in a lingerie shop and wear ladies' briefs! Here's my plan. We get married after I graduate. I become the career woman, the main bread- winner. You keep house, clean and cook and shop and all that sort of stuff. I'll let you have sex with me every so often - if you're a good girl," she laughed and took a sip from her drink before continuing.

"You must agree to be 100% obedient to me, okay? I'm deadly serious. Remember when you came to my house that Sunday and agreed to absolutely do whatever I demanded of you or turn-around and go home and you agreed to stay? Well, agree to this and there's no turning around. Consider it being like you being indentured to me not just for a day but for the rest of your life. Agree and you're agreeing to me keeping you in chastity and making you cross-dress and be humiliated by me whenever I see fit -and you must do it all without complaint."

I nodded my head, not in any fit state to consider the implications but deep-down, rather liking the idea of Anita being in total charge.

"We're both bi-sexual right," she continued. "I'll occasionally have same-sex partners and the odd man too when I feel like it. You will just have to accept that without argument. I'll keep you in chastity most of the time and allow you to dress in lingerie in private. And to show you what a thoughtful wife I'll be, I'll see that you get serviced by men every so often - for a fee of course. Maybe even some of my lovers will want to make use of you if they're that way inclined and, if they do, you must accept it and obey. Okay?"

I didn't really say I agreed if I recall, but neither did I voice any objections.

"I let you fuck me this morning as I wanted you to think about this with a clear mind, not a mind that was still aching to have sex. I wanted to drain you before I asked all this, understand?"

That was very considerate of her I thought.

"Oh, one other thing, if you disobey me or upset me in any way, you must take whatever punishment I see fit to dish out without complaint."

"But what will your mother say?" was all I could think to ask.

"Oh, don't worry about her. I've told her my intentions and - although a little uncertain at first - she agrees that the only man suitable for me would be someone like you. In fact, once she'd got used to the idea, she made a few suggestions as to how we could make you the perfect compliant husband. She had a miserable time with dad, always having to nag and chivvy him along to get things done. She just wishes she'd put him in chastity and panties like Joyce did her husband, then maybe he'd have been a better husband. No Robert- or Roberta if you like - mum's now totally bought in to my plan. Of course, being married will help in my getting business loans and a mortgage - banks and the like think giving loans to a single woman is too great a risk, so having you as my husband will ease that side of things. In reality though, I'm the boss."

I was just sort of nodding along as she said all this, not nodding in agreement as though I'd fully considered all she'd proposed and found it totally to my liking, but rather out of a sort of general acceptance that she, a woman who'd sussed me out so completely, wasn't someone I could argue with. I guess my inability to raise objections just encouraged her to tell me more of her proposals.

"So, next week, I want you to give notice of leaving your flat and move in to our house. Mum will charge you much less and we can put the money you save towards my plans. While I'm away at University, she can train you how to clean and cook to my standards and also in how to dress and paint your nails and do your hair and make-up and such like. I won't want to be doing that for you when I have to go out to work. She will control your chastity and has my authority to spank you if you disobey her or don't make a proper job of your chores. She'll "own" you in my absence, got that?"

At this point I thought perhaps I ought to start questioning things but, deep down, the thought of Edna putting me over her knees and raising my petticoats to spank me kind of appealed to me. All I could say was simply to ask if our arrangement could be kept secret from the others, from Angie and Yvonne to start with.

Anita agreed that this was no-one else's business but ours, although she did say that Joyce would be kept fully informed. I guess I just had to accept it. I mean, it wasn't as though I had any future plans of my own. I was simply drifting along, month after month, renting a flat and working in a women's underwear shop.

I looked straight into Anita's eyes as she awaited my answer.

"Yes, I agree Anita. I accept. I understand what it is I'm agreeing to and I'll move in with your mum as soon as I can and learn how I must best serve you."

A big grin emerged from her stare.

"Good girl Roberta. Deep down, we know it's what you really want. Now, I'll go and get you your drink."

"I'll have a pint of Webster's bitter please," I said.

"You'll have what I get you, okay."

Shortly after, she returned with my drink, a small sweet sherry. I accepted it without complaint.