The Lad in the Lingerie Shop Ch. 12

To say I had second-thoughts that night after Anita had took me home following my agreement to marry and become totally subservient to her would be something of an understatement.

My enthusiasm for my role as her submissive, sissy husband, who'd be kept in chastity at her whim and "serviced" by men when she demanded, blew hot-and cold during my attempts to sleep that night.

Yes, I knew I'd agreed to her scheme and that she'd given me the chance to turn her down and that if I accepted there would be no turning back. But I wasn't so sure now; maybe when I next saw her at work, I could plead with her to excuse me from the oath I'd taken. She wasn't due in at "The Lingerie Emporium" until the afternoon, so, as I headed off to work that morning, I tried to imagine how I could best put my change of heart into words.

But my resolve started to weaken even as I walked to work (wearing a pair of small, white cotton briefs with a floral pattern). I noticed the faces of the men going to work in the factories and offices. None of them looked especially happy, even though they would have been horrified to know about the life I was about to commit to. Did I want to end up like them with faces weather-beaten and looking old before their time? Worrying about how they'd pay their bills or if they would still be in a job a year from now?

Anita was going to look after all that for me: she was going to be the bread-winner and all such worries would be hers. All I'd have to worry about was tending to her, making sure I looked as feminine as possible and doing household chores, washing, ironing, cooking - that sort of stuff: that's hardly pressure is it?

Even so, before I reached "The Lingerie Emporium", I was still of the opinion that I should ask for a little time to reconsider my decision.

On seeing Edna though, after arriving at work, my resolve began to weaken a little more. She gave me a nice smile before ordering me to take a supply of panties up to the shop floor before we opened for business. Her tone was slightly more bossy than normal, but what really got to me was that she'd had her hair done in a more modern fashion and was dressed in an even shorter skirt than usual, her long legs were clad in what looked to be a classy, black-silk pair of fine-denier seamed stockings and high-heels.

Her blouse was of a quite flimsy white material underneath which the white bra that supported her ample bosom was on show. I could make out her nipples, like ripe-strawberries, pushing through the fabric as though to tease me. I couldn't help but stare at them a moment longer than might be considered accidental. I almost licked my lips at the thought of being under her sexual control. Had I been allowed to dwell on the thought of what panties she was wearing, I might have fainted.

"Panties dear: chop-chop: get them up on display now. Jump to it."

I went about my business, half-determined to try and regain my resolve but, as I walked past the assorted undergarments with various styles of panties in my hand and thought about the dour, miserable faces of the men I'd seen that morning going to their respective workplaces, I knew deep down, reneging on my agreement with Anita was going to be very difficult.

Joyce (Mrs. Ferguson) had also managed to dress as provocatively as I'd seen her - a one-piece, short-sleeved pink dress that finished well above her knees and with a darker pink belt about her waist that emphasised her trim figure and large bust. Knowing that I'd worn a pair of her panties (indeed I still had them in a drawer back in my flat) merely added to the re-emergence of the desire I felt to live the sissy life. In fact, I'd started to think that I wasn't just bi-sexual but tri-sexual. I wanted sex - sissy sex - with women my age or thereabouts, servicing by macho-males, and domination by women of a mature age - like Joyce and Edna.

Once I'd replenished the panties on the shop floor, I went down to the basement to process the mail and send out the various items ordered by post.

There were quite a lot of orders to deal with most mornings, the demand for larger size knickers, stockings and corsets having increased no-end since "The Lingerie Emporium" adverts began to appear in male porno mags. I set about dealing with these on my own as both Edna and Joyce were busy on the shop-floor, having appointments for bra and corset fittings.

When Anita arrived in work that afternoon, she too was busy and I never really got the chance to discuss my betrothal to her that day.

The next day however, mid-morning, Joyce called me in to her office where I was joined by Anita and Edna.

"Take a seat ladies," Joyce began, "you Roberta, in view of your new role must remain standing. Now Roberta; Edna and Anita have informed me of their - your - plans. I think it's a great idea. A woman should be in control of her man and he mustn't object if she wants to be the dominant partner in a relationship. Heaven knows, Edna and I know well enough that men are unreliable - to say the least - if their libido is not kept under strict control."

Edna and Anita nodded along to Joyce's discourse.

Joyce continued. "Now, when your wife-to-be is away at University, Edna is to be your mentor, the one who will train you in accepting your absolute obedience to a superior woman. We both agree that that might be quite a burden for her, especially as, unlike me when I was married, she's not yet had experience in using chastity to take total control of a man: to break the man in, rather like one might break a young horse in - to bend it to your ways."

Although both the other women nodded in agreement again, Edna did mention that she had been a teacher, so was not totally unused to disciplining unruly males. Joyce acknowledged the point she'd made and then carried on.

"So, we've all agreed that I shall also play a part in teaching you what Anita must get from you - that is, total obedience. Understand?"

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

Anita now addressed me.

"Look Roberta, you must see it as like being a soldier who must never countermand an officer's order but do exactly what he - or she in your case - is ordered to do. I mean thousands; tens-of-thousands of real men have obeyed orders more demanding than you'll be asked to obey. Sometimes to go to their deaths and they've been able to do this because they've been trained to obey orders from their superiors without question. You'll be drilled to obey similarly."

"That's quite right," agreed Joyce, with Edna nodding at this. "Now, Edna is taking your Mistress back to University this weekend. You can borrow the van and have next Monday off work to move all your belongings to her house. Edna is off then too. She'll supervise you. Okay?"

"Yes Mrs Ferguson."

"Good. Edna and I owe it to Anita to see that you submit to her authority without dissent. We are - if you like - your Sergeant-Majors and your Mistress has granted us the authority to punish you, to tease and test you, to humiliate you as much as we see fit."

I shot Anita a pained look. Surely this was going a little too far wasn't it? But Anita was nodding along enthusiastically at Joyce's (Mrs. Ferguson's) words.

"Now Roberta, back to work. And well done for accepting who you really are; what you really want - which is to be subject to the authority of a strong woman - strong women."

"Yes," agreed Edna."Call it pantie-power."

I left Joyce's office and shut the door behind me, just able to hear the three women talking behind me as I left. I knew now, there was no turning back.

Anita took me out for a meal - dressed as a male - albeit with panties on underneath and still in my chastity cage - on the Friday evening. I was only allowed to drink sherry and Anita informed me that my days of drinking pints were over: this was not too much of a hardship, but even so, I did feel rather humiliated by this order.

Over our meal, my fiancé, once again drilled home to me where I stood in the order of things: right at the bottom. She didn't say this mockingly, more as a matter of fact that we both recognised. This conversation was an attempt by Anita to boost my morale. Why, even a sissy like me needed reassurance from time to time. She re-assured me that all the pressures of earning and paying the bills would be hers; I'd have to look after her though to enable her to cope with the responsibility. She reeled off the menial tasks I'd need to devote my time to so that she could best climb the ladder of success.

Sometimes, she'd let me have sex with her, but only sometimes: sissies - she reminded me - don't usually get to have sex with their mistresses, but she would, on special occasions, allow me that privilege. Wasn't I honoured by this?

But she though, once I'd been trained by Joyce and Edna and handed over to her on our wedding day, would be the sole arbiter of when, how and with whom I could be intimate with.

It was during this conversation that I realised now was the time to raise any objections or reservations I had, but, whilst I was thinking of what points I might raise, she carried on telling me things that made it so much harder for me to query her plans.

She reeled off things like being made to wear nice, cute frilly underwear and make-up. Having my hair done in a modern, feminine way and always having my nails immaculately polished. Why, she even promised that, after a few years, assuming she was earning enough, she'd pay for me to have breast implants! Adding that, once I'd got the new boobs, she'd let me go to a lingerie shop to get measured for my bras!

I gulped on hearing this and retreated from making any sort of objection. She would arrange all this, and all I had to do was the household chores, the shopping and pander to her as an attentive sissy and make her home life as easy as I could.

When I eventually spoke, all I could say was to ask if she'd let me have the key to my chastity cage so that I could have a last weekend to wank before coming under Edna and Joyce's jurisdiction.

"No. I don't think that's a good idea. I mean it would mean you turning up at mum's on Monday with your little willy uncaged and - although I don't think you would - you might not let mum lock you back up and that would be a terrible start to your training.

"So, so...what do I do for release?"

"You do as you're told that's what. If you do, mum and Joyce will allow you to bring yourself off with the toys I'm locking away in my bedroom. When told to have your sissy wank, you must then wash yourself and clean your chastity cage straight after ejaculation and then refit it okay?"

BY the time our after-dinner coffees arrived, we'd covered every angle I could think of regarding my new role and were talking about general issues. Here, Anita informed me that Angie had handed in her notice. She was getting married in a few weeks and would then move to a job elsewhere.

We both liked Angie and agreed we'd be sorry to see her go, but then Anita said it would mean that, if Joyce approved, and my make-up skills had reached a high enough level, I could then go in to work as Roberta, wearing "The Lingerie Emporium's" dress.

"Just think, you could spend all day in lingerie and dresses and high-heels. You'll just love that I know."

"But what about the girls there who, you know, don't know I like..."

"What about them? Yvonne knows how you are, and mum and Joyce obviously. So if they want you to wear the uniform, that's just what you will do and the others will just have to accept it. It's not as though your work there will change: you won't be allowed on the sales floors."

As we left the restaurant, Anita handed me a little present. It was a small book with a pink velvet-like cover.

"Here Roberta, you're going to need this. It's a diary and in it I've marked the dates when I'll be home from University and also when I have my periods - or would if I wasn't on the pill."

"Thanks," I said, taking it from her, "but what..."

"This is what. In order for you to be a sissy, one really in tune with how women endure monthly pains, I want you to buy yourself tampons and insert a new one in your sissy pussy on every day that I would have to. It will bring you closer to me don't you think? Besides, clamping it in your butt all day will strengthen your anal muscles so that when you're being "serviced" by the men of my choice, it will be more pleasurable for them. That's now your role."

When I turned up at Edna's in "The Lingerie Emporium's" van that Monday, the die was cast: there was no turning back.

After Edna had showed me my room, I carried all my belongings in to the house and she decided what I could throw away and where those things I was allowed to keep had to be stored. She inspected all my lingerie items one by one, throwing out a few panties that she deemed were beyond their best, but allowing me to keep all my stockings and suspender belts, basques, bras, corsets and nighties.

Then she gave me a tour of the house, pointing out where all the cleaning products and suchlike were.

I was handed a type-written rota of my daily duties, together with a shopping list that I must go for once a week.

Edna then told me to cook her dinner - it was something relatively simple that even I could cook and to stand at the table by her, my hands behind my back, as she ate it. By now, I was in an old pink dress of Edna's and was wearing hold-up stockings, little pink lacy panties and open-toed high-heels.

Once Edna had finished, she pointed out one or two things that should have been done better and then told me to prepare myself a meal but that had less on the plate than hers did. I had to lose a few pounds I was told.

I was not allowed to relieve myself until the Saturday after moving in. Edna observed my masturbation and then oversaw my washing and the cleaning of the chastity cage. Once done, she oversaw the re-fitting of the cage - seeming to take quite a pleasure in closing the lock - and then ordered me to put my nightie and night-time panties on. I was always sent to bed by 9:30 pm.

The following Saturday, when the time for my relief came, Edna ordered me to turn around and spread my buttocks.

"Why aren't you wearing your tampon? Haven't you checked in the diary your Mistress gave you? There are tampons in your bedside draw so you've no excuses."

I blushed: I had forgotten and said I'd go and get one and fit it, but Edna said I'd have to be punished first.

She sat down on my bed and told me to approach her and lean over her knees. I did so without hesitation, knowing I had no rights to question her. She lifted up the hem of the skirt I was wearing and pulled the blue-serge schoolgirl-like panties I had on down and proceeded to give me 12 hard spanks on each cheek, ordering me to wiggle my feet and legs like a little girl as she did.

Once I'd received my spanking, I was made to dress for bed and told that I'd have to forfeit that weekend's wank and remain caged until next weekend.

The following weekend though, Joyce, who was aware that I'd been deprived of my release, said that she would require my services that weekend; she needed me to clean and cook and do her washing, and to give Edna a break. This shouldn't have been a problem and, although having to jerk-off in front of Joyce would be tremendously embarrassing, I'd do it, so desperate was I for release.

Joyce picked me up early that Saturday morning and, after having a quick chat, drove me to her house, making small talk as we went.

My duties, she informed me, were to prepare our meals for the day, change the sheets on her bed and put them in the washing machine and also to hand-wash her smalls which I'd find in a bag in her bedroom and then hang them out to dry. Then I must clean the bathroom and toilets and vacuum clean the carpets. Oh - and feed and pamper Mr Tibbs a bit.

She would be going in to work that day and expected me to have it all done by the time she got back, at about 6:30p.m.

Although the thought of handling Joyce's panties excited me no end, and I was already highly sexually aroused due to my enforced chastity, I tried not to let Joyce know that I was getting stirred or that my trapped knob was beginning to wriggle and seep a little semen within the confines of the cage.

Although I had all these housekeeping tasks to perform, the women agreed I must make-up and do my hair and eyes to look like a sexy woman, not a char lady. I dressed in a short, blue dress that just about covered my lacy, black briefs which sat over the black straps of my suspender-belt which were attached to a fine-denier pair of fully-fashioned black stockings. Black shiny high-heeled shoes - which would be a bit of an encumbrance in my housework - completed my outfit. I also had a newly inserted tampon inserted in my anus: Edna had checked I'd inserted it before Joyce collected me.

My nails had a nice pink shade of varnish on and I'd spent quite a while filing them in to shape. I was a little concerned that maybe the housework may chip them which would really have annoyed me.

It took Joyce maybe twenty minutes to show me where everything was and run-through with me once more all that she wanted doing. Then, as she was getting ready to leave, the front door bell rang.

"Hi Shirley, how can I help? I'm just off to work."

"Hi Joyce, I just wondered if you had any dried fruit I could borrow? Malcolm's working away this weekend and I thought I'd bake a cake as a surprise. I've just got back from shopping and only just realised I forgot dried fruit. Silly me, can you help me out? Save me going back to the shops?" "

"Yes, I'm sure I have some, follow me."

The two ladies walked in to the kitchen where, once again, I was standing dressed in women's underwear (but with a dress on this time), and yes, Shirley was the neighbour who had given me a blow-job when I was last here.

Joyce looked at me and then at Shirley.

"Oh, Shirley, let me introduce you to Roberta, she's working for me this weekend doing chores that I just don't have time for."

"Well, nice to meet you Roberta."

I smiled (and blushed) and managed to utter a reasonably passable female "you too."

Joyce ordered me to bend down and look into one of the cupboards for dried fruit. In doing so, I felt sure my suspenders and maybe my panties became visible and, although I was embarrassed, my dick seemed to love every minute of it.

"Look," Joyce added as I searched for the fruit, "I'll have to get a move on. Roberta, I'm sure there's dried fruit down there. Get it for Shirley okay. See you later."

I leant further into the cupboards, now sure the back of my panties were fully exposed.

"Oh," Joyce added before eventually making her exit, "Roberta's probably got time to spare today, so if you'd like her to help you, just ask. She'll do whatever you want: she's a very obedient girl."

Joyce left. I'd found the dried fruit and managed to stand up straight again and went to hand her the package.

"So, we meet again," Shirley smirked. "Are you still caged like the last time?"

"Yes. I'm still caged."

"That's a pity, but that doesn't mean I still can't make use of you. Bring the dried fruit round to my house will you, follow me."

I followed the older woman as an obedient puppy would his Mistress. Shirley was a little on the overweight side, perhaps even larger than when we last met. She was still rather soberly dressed - a petrol-blue pleated cotton skirt with matching cardigan over a cream blouse that had a large bow about the neck. It was clear though that she was - in the breast department - rather on the large side. I wondered as I followed her if she'd ever been for a bra or corset fitting at Joyce's shop.

Had Joyce set me up I wondered? Had Anita told her about my earlier meeting with Shirley and she figured I'd benefit from having to obey another woman apart from "The Lingerie Emporium" three? Was this a test to see if I really was subservient to woman? That I knew my place?