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She Stoops to Conquer
by Priscilla
Part 3
Story so far.
Peter and Jennie are a happily married couple. Jennie is a high flier in the 'City' while Peter is more laid back, and has untidy habits, which go ill with Jennie. So one night she lured him to bed with sexy clothes, and using her female wiles, got his agreement to changes in his lifestyle.
Now read on.
"So, agree or not?"
Well, as I have said before, I am largely a normal male type of human being; I am turned on by high stiletto boots, corsetry, stockings, and pvc. Add to that, my special pleasure in shiny rainwear, and you can see that I was lying alongside the near ultimate in temptation.
And what was I being offered? If I was prepared to become a little smarter, less scruffy, with the promise of rewards for achievement, and, yes punishment if I didn't keep up with the programme. So what punishment could she inflict on me? Withdrawal of marital rights? So, when I got horny, I would start to be tidy again. But having sampled the rewards, well, that five minutes of heightened sexual activity (all on Jennies' part, I may add, although I got the benefit!!) was enough to make any man toe the line.
So I nodded.
"Is that meant to be a 'yes', darling?" Jennie asked, that same sardonic smile on her lips/
"Yes" I blurted out.
"Now as this is possibly going to be life-changing for you, Peter, I want a clear answer from you. I know it sounds rather formal, but if this is what you want, dear, then I want a definite commitment"
God, next she'd have a lawyer in to draw up a contract on this.
"Yes, Jennie, I agree to change my ways."
"And do you accept that you will obey me in all decisions I may make, however harsh you may feel them to be? And of course, I am only talking about this aspect of our life; as to our financial arrangements, we are still complete partners."
Here, my brain broke through the haze of sexual excitement to scream "Careful!!!"
"Come on, darling, don't you trust me?"
That look again.
"More to the point, don't you trust me? You love me don't you? My love for you has got stronger and stronger since we first met. That is why I want to do this for you, darling. Of course I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, love, I just want to make you respect yourself more"
"You know I love you, darling, and I trust you. I am just nervous, that's all This all seems rather sudden."
"Peter, I've been pondering this for some time, but today you made me decide when you forgot to get your haircut, and left your clothes all over the bedroom."
"Okay, I'm sorry, and I promise to be more thoughtful, dear."
"So do you accept my help?"
"Yes, dear"
"Please, darling, I want you to say it. You accept that you will obey me in all decisions I may make for your good."
"Yes, darling I accept that I will obey you."
Anyone hear the sound of cell doors clanging shut?
She turned her face up to mine, and pouted her lovely lips. I bent towards her and held her in a lip-lock. She snuggled her body into mine rubbing the black plastic of her coat and basque against my highly sensitive skin, arousing it even more. Her long legs clad in the thigh boots caressed my legs. God, she knew how to excite a man!
I won't bore you readers with what occurred over the next hour, just accept that it was good!
Finally, we fell apart, exhausted but happy. My long hair was all over my face, I had a thin sweat all over, but I felt fulfilled. Jennie leant toward me and asked, "Want to shower first, darling?"
I didn't want her to change from her lovely sexy clothes yet, so I agreed.
"Shampoo your hair, dear, it looks sweaty."
I headed for the bathroom, and was soon soaped up and washing the juices of pleasure from my tingling body. As instructed, I shampooed my hair, and then added some conditioner to soften it. Once out of the shower, I dried myself thoroughly, before returning to the bedroom.
Jennie was still in her black raincoat, basque and boots, and the sight aroused me once again.
"Sit at the vanity table, and I'll dry your hair, Peter."
I obeyed (good boy already!) and she came behind me with the hairdryer. As she combed her fingers through my hair, she rubbed her plastic-clad body against my bare back. Obedience was good.
Soon my locks were dry, and Jennie pulled them back to the crown of my head. Reaching into her coat pocket, she took out a long pink satin ribbon, and deftly tied my hair into a ponytail.
"What's that for? It makes me look a sissy, Jen"
"You chose to have long hair, and so you've got to keep it tidy, darling"
As she spoke, she tied the ribbon into a bow, carefully arranging the bows above the knot. The ribbon was either starched or of a stiff satin, as the bows stood up firmly, each in a perfect circle. Jennie arranged the two long ends of the ribbons down my back so that they hung almost to my waist.
"But, if I must have a ponytail, can't I just tie it with an elastic?"
"No, dear, this way you are aware of it, and will not forget it's there."
With that she kissed me, and arranged two stray lengths of hair on either side of my face so they hung down beside my cheeks.
"Now get dressed, dear, and then you can prepare supper for us."
I stood, not wanting to look at the frightening sight of myself in the mirror, and went to my drawer to get clean underthings. Imagine my surprise when I found there were none of my briefs or boxer shorts there, just one pair of pink satin panties!
I turned in horror to Jennie.
"What's this? These aren't mine."
"Oh yes they are, Peter, your usual pants haven't been washed as you couldn't be bothered to put them in the wash basket, so these are for you, dear. Put them on."
The last sentence was said with a firmness that I was to come to know, and fear.
I gingerly picked the frilly little thing from the drawer. They were what I later came to learn were tap panties, very brief and with no weight. The edges were hemmed in pink lace. If I had seen Jennie wearing them I would have got excited, but put them on myself? Never before!
"But I can't wear these, they're girls panties, darling".
"Peter, dear, you have just illustrated what I am trying to cure you of. Less than 10 minutes ago you promised to obey me, and you are already arguing with my instructions. You have a bad tendency to do things without adequate thought, and be forgetful about matters. Well, from now on, you must be thinking about improving yourself, and what you are going to say. Now, put the panties on, and then get dressed."
There was clear menace in her tone, and so I slipped one leg into the delicate panties.
"No, dear. You will fall over and tear them; they are not strong like your boxer shorts. You must sit to put them on. Come and sit at the vanity table again."
Once I was seated, I realised what she meant. It was so much easier to put the panties on while seated, and soon they were around my waist, and struggling to hold in my manhood. Because the lovely soft material against my penis aroused it again, as did, I have to admit, the feeling of the satin ribbons brushing against my bare back.
And of course Jennie was still there dressed to thrill!
I stood and headed for my wardrobe to get myself trousers and shirt. All gone! But on a hanger a short blue skirt and a white thin ribbed top.
"What do you want of me, totally in drag, darling?" I queried.
"No, dear, but wearing these will be more aware of your clothes. When you undressed earlier, you treated your clothes in your normal way; dropped them on the floor where you were standing, and expected someone – me – to pick them up and hang them up. While you are wearing skirt and top, you will be constantly reminded that you must look after your clothes, hang them up or fold them, or put them in the wash basket. Now, slip the skirt and top on, dear."
Now, I've started making admissions, so I'll give you another. No, you're wrong, I am not a closet crossdresser. I may have a fetish about certain things, but I did not have a history of slipping into my mother's bedroom while she was away and trying on her clothes. I admit to wrapping Jennie's pvc raincoats around myself on a few occasions, but that was for the pleasure the soft cold shiny material gave me.
This was something else. Already re-aroused by wearing the panties, the thought of putting on these so feminine items of clothing took me back to full arousal. I carefully lifted the top from the hanger. It top had thin straps at the shoulders, with a heart shaped front and deep bare back. I gave Jennie a quizzical look, but her expression told me that she expected me to put it on, and NOW!
I slipped it over my raised arms, and wriggled it down over my body. As it passed my ponytail, I felt the tightness of the ribbon's knot, and then I pulled its lower hem until the straps were settled on my shoulders. Looking down, I could see that my nipples were covered, but the ribbed material clung sensuously to my torso down to below my waist.
Now for the skirt. I took it from the hanger, and noticed that it had a short zip at the back with a button at the top on the waistband. I undid both, and stepped into the skirt, pulling the waistband up over my swollen penis. I fumbled for a few moments with the zip behind my back.
"This is something you will have to learn, Pete dear, turn the skirt round so the zip is at the front then you can do it up easily. Once it is in place and buttoned, then you can slide it back round to the centre of your back."
I followed her instructions, and even though my fingers were shaking with the excitement of all this, I managed to zip and button, and then arrange the skirt properly with the opening at the back.
"Now come here, dear, and look at yourself in the mirror. Doesn't that look so untidy?"
What had I done wrong this time? I stared at myself in the mirror, not liking what I saw. No pretty girl stared back, just a man in a skirt and top!!! I looked ridiculous. The blue skirt was short, mid thigh length and flared so it sat in ripples against my legs.
"See what's wrong?"
"Yes, I look ridiculous, Jennie" I volunteered.
"No, firstly look at where the top meets the skirt. In parts the top is tucked in, and elsewhere it is outside the skirt. Make up your mind, dear, but have all one or the other."
Yes, now she pointed it out she was right, and the whole waist area looked a mess.
"Which do you want, Jenn?"
"Oh, it's not up to me, you must decide which looks best."
So see to what I am now reduced, standing in front of a mirror deciding whether my top should be worn inside or outside my skirt waistband. Me, the macho rugby player. But suddenly it mattered to me, and so I experimented with it in and out. Eventually I decided I preferred it out and so carefully arranged the top's hem neatly over the skirt.
"Now look at the hem of the skirt. See how it is higher on one side than on the other?"
With all these adjustments, the waistband had ridden higher on my waist on the left side. Grasping the right hem, I straightened the skirt carefully.
"Now, while you are there, just turn around and look at your back. What do you see?"
Oh no, In putting the top on, I had trapped the ends of my hair ribbon inside one of the shoulder straps. I pulled on the ribbon but too vigorously, and found that one bow was now less than half the size of the other.
My hands went up to it, and I carefully pulled it through and arranged it so that both matched, and so the ribbon ends hung loose and free over my bare back.
"Good, that is better, you are now taking an interest in your appearance, dear. Come on then, let's get supper ready."
I bent beside the bed to find my shoes, but they had gone! Why was I not surprised? In their place was a pair of tan coloured slender sandals, with little one-inch kitten heels and lots of thin straps. I wasn't expected to wear those, surely?
"Honey, another lesson. When did you last clean your shoes? Apart from a wipe over with a cloth to remove the dust, you have not cleaned them for weeks. You seem to think it is acceptable to go out in dirty scuffed shoes, but from now on it is not. Put your new shoes on, darling."
I sat on the edge of the bed, and lifted one foot over the other knee.
"No, Peter, you are not thinking again, stand up again."
I stood, and was told to go over to the mirror.
"Turn round and look at the back of the skirt. See how you've creased it already?"
Yes, she was right, the seat was all screwed up and creased under my bum. I also noticed how much leg I was showing at the back, and with the skirt rucked up, I caught a glimpse of the edge of my panties.
"Now let's try sitting on the bed again, but this time, as you sit, stroke the back of your skirt downwards with both hands so that it sits smooth under your bottom."
So this time I lowered my butt slowly and carefully on to the bed, smoothing my skirt as I went.
Hang on! Did I say that? My skirt?
"Much better, darling, now put your shoes on."
Once again, I lifted my left foot over my right knee, and slipped my toes through the slender straps. I was mildly surprised at how well it seemed to fit. I don't have huge feet, but I am aware that men generally have larger sizes than women, but these fragile sandals seemed as if they were made for me. They were sling-backs (I've since learnt all this technical stuff) with a slim crossbar over the instep, and a buckle on the outside. I fastened the buckle and lowered my foot to the floor. Although it was only a small heel, my foot felt strange, but I got on with putting on the right sandal.
When I tried to stand, I became fully aware of the heels, and each step was an adventure. I noticed that even these small heels pushed my weight forward, and walking was a new experience. Also with each step, the hem of the skirt swished against my bare leg, a most exciting sensation.
Jennie headed for the stairs, so I gingerly followed her, being very careful with each step on the stairs less these strange heels made me fall. I found that I bent my knees more with each step.
Having successfully accomplished the stairs, I trailed Jenn into the kitchen. One problem was making itself obvious; the rubbing of the silky satin on my manhood, the gentle caress of the skirt, and the tickle of the hair ribbons on my back were all causing my panties and skirt to develop a very tented appearance.
"Right, Peter dear, I will prepare dinner, and you can do the washing. That way you can make sure that we have clothes to wear on Monday for work, as I'm sure you don't want to go into the City dressed like you are now, do you?"
She pointed at the pile of clothes that had accumulated over the week.
"Now is the opportunity for you to learn how the washing machine works, so first divide up everything into dark and light piles."
"Oh, I nearly forgot, dear. I'm not having you mess your pretty things as you normally do when you are working at home. Come here and put this on"
With that, she took from a hook behind the kitchen door a frilly frothy pink translucent plastic apron, with a semi-circular skirt just longer than the blue one I was wearing. It had a heart shaped bib, like the skirt edged in pink lacy plastic, with long ribbons that went over the shoulders and fastened to the waist ribbons. She helped me into it, hooking the top straps over my shoulders, and crossing them over my back. They ended in loops through which the waist 'belt' passed before it was tied in a large bow in the small of my back.
She finally arranged the bow and the ribbons as she had done with my hair ribbon (which she cleared from inside the apron) and fussed with the bib and shoulder straps to fluff up the edging plastic lace. The pink translucent plastic was covered in little pink flowers, as feminine as it could possibly be. In the front of the 'skirt' was a trimmed pocket, heart shaped.
"There, dear, now you can keep your top and skirt clean and dry while you work. I expect you to put your apron on whenever you are doing any housework. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Jenn" I replied, too numb to argue.
If all the other garments were having an effect on me, this took it to another level. The soft cold plastic against my chest and shoulders sent frissons of excitement through me, and my skirt and the lower apron stood out even more prominently.
And Jennie had not failed to notice it. Once again, I was treated to that smile, then she turned her back to me.
"Help me off with my coat, dear, and you can then hang it in the hall for me."
I slipped the lovely black pvc raincoat off her milky shoulders, revealing her just in pvc basque, suspenders, stockings, and thigh boots. How was I going to get through my chores with her dressed like that?
I folded the mac over my arm, and tripped through to the hall, hearing the clip-clip of the slender heels on our tiled floors. I draped the coat over a hanger, and lovingly stroked its shiny black material.
"Don't be too long hanging my coat, you have work to do, dear" came mockingly from the kitchen.
Not wishing to attract more punishment I hurried back as fast as the heels and my stiff pole would let me. When I arrived, Jennie was holding out another apron to me, very similar to the one I was wearing, but in blue plastic.
"Help me into this, Peter, then get on with the washing."
To this day I don't know how I managed it, what with the sensuous clothes we were both wearing, and the silky feel of the apron I was required to fasten about her lovely body. With trembling fingers, I tied the best bow I could with the ribbons behind her back, and as she turned, I headed towards the utility room and washing machine.
The work was not arduous, and once I was told which clothes were to be washed together, I found I got on with things as well as could be expected, considering how I was dressed, and what had gone on since I'd got home. I divided the clothes into three piles, whites and coloureds, and hand wash, and once the whites were loaded into the washing machine, I leant over the sink and immersed my arms in soapy water as I gently washed soft silky underwear items of Jennie's wardrobe.
I had never really studied these things before, but having to handle them so intimately and gently rub them in the suds, I came to appreciate their fragility, and the soft pastel shades she chose for her intimate garments. As I have said, Jennie was always a smart and tidy dresser, and although not extravagant, she insisted on buying good quality in everything, especially her clothes. This was reflected in the lightness and beauty of her panties, bras, teddies, and baby dolls. And I appreciated them more as my fingers explored every inch of each garment.
But now the whites had been rinsed and spun, and I bent to pull them from the machine door.
"Hmmm, sweet, I can see your panties when you bend like that dear" came from behind.
I turned in surprise, and my feet, uncertain in the new heels, gave way under me, and I slipped over, finishing on my back, with my legs in the air and my skirt up around my waist.
Jenny stood in the doorway, and laughed gaily at my predicament.
"I didn't mean for you to show me even more, darling, but now I can see everything you've got; not very ladylike at all, is it?"
And with that, she broke into a fit of giggles.
The blushes on my cheeks (all four of them!) must have matched the colour of my apron. I struggled to my feet, and carefully rearranged my skirt and apron down over my panties. (My again!! This is worrying)
"You surprised me, darling, and I slipped."
"Not to worry, every girl takes time to get used to heels. Most of us fall over in them at some time. That's why I started you on those little ones, dear"
I didn't pick up the significance of that remark until much later.
"Let me teach you another important lesson. When you are wearing a skirt, never bend at the waist, as that makes the back of your skirt ride up, and exposes your panties. Always bend at the knees, dear" She giggled again.
"Now, load the coloureds into the machine, and while they are washing, you can hang out the whites."
"You mean go outside dressed like this?"
"Now, I appreciate that I am giving you new experiences very quickly, but I do not expect to have them questioned. I'm afraid that I will have to punish you for questioning something I have told you to do. Go and get my handbag from the lounge, dear."
When would I learn? What indignity was she going to inflict on me now?
I hurried to fetch her bag, and when I returned, she instructed me to kneel. Then she took a lipstick from her bag, and lifting my face, liberally coated both lips. I had no idea what colour, but I could feel the stickiness of it, and smell the distinctive odour.
"Now, every time you open your mouth to speak to me, the lipstick will remind you of your agreement, and maybe you will think before you speak. Now go and hang the whites on the line."
Our garden is not overlooked by any neighbours, but it can be seen from the road some thirty yards away, and so it was with considerable apprehension I ventured out carrying the large basket of washing. When I got to our washing line, I became aware that the line was above my head, so I had to reach above my head to peg each item of clothes. I was almost finished, when I heard a wolf whistle from behind and realised that with my back to the road, every time I stretched up to the line, I was giving a show of my bare thighs and panties! I turned blushing, to see two teenaged boys passing along the road, waving and whistling at me.
I quickly hung the last items out, then beat a hasty retreat into the house. That had been awful, but once I returned to the safety of the utility room and recommenced washing the 'smalls', I reflected on the incident, and had to admit to myself that it had certainly given me yet more arousal.
I was finally rinsing the smalls when I heard the first rattle of rain on the utility room window. Oh no, all the clothes on the line would get soaked again. I grabbed a towel and dried my hands, and then, picking up the laundry basket headed for the door. A voice form behind stopped me.
"Peter, think, if you go out like that you'll get your skirt and top soaked. Put a raincoat on, dear, there is one behind the utility room door.
I pulled the door to, and as she said there was a raincoat. But what a raincoat! Baby pink! Translucent plastic! Covered in little white roses! It had a belt and a large spacious hood which tied under the chin with two long plastic ribbons.
I took it down from the hook, and slipped my arms into the sleeves. The cold smooth plastic sent shock waves of excitement through my body. I quickly fastened the four buttons down the front, pulled the hood up and tied the ribbons in a knot, and secured the belt around my waist with another bow. The hood was very deep, and so I folded back the front edge and arranged it around my face. As I pulled it over my head, I could feel the knot in my ponytail on the crown of my head against the plastic, a strangely seductive feeling.
Now, normally, I would have just slung a coat loosely over my shoulders, but the lipstick was working! As I gasped at the lovely sight of the pink plastic mac (For me a dram coat) I felt the lipstick on my lips, and instinctively knew that Jennie would expect me not to be slovenly but to dress properly before venturing out. I even pulled the skirts down tidily below the belt, and buttoned the cuffs at each wrist. Then picking up the basket, I hurried out into the rain to bring in the clothes form the line.
As I hastened to retrieve the clothes, I could hear the rhythmic patter of raindrops against the hood, and the rain and wind that had got up made the plastic of the coat feel cold and sensuous against my bare shoulders, back and legs. The coat was very full, and so its skirts blew constantly against my thighs and knees.
When I had finally unpegged the last of the soggy clothes, I walked slowly back to the house, not really wanting to have to change out of this delicious coat.
When I entered the utility room, Jennie was standing by the washing machine, smiling happily.
"There, you did something right, darling, putting on the coat properly before going out, For that, you deserve a reward." And with that, she took my hand and led me into the sitting room. I started to unbutton the coat, but she waved me to stop.
She led me to the big four-seater sofa, and gently pulled me down to sit next to her. Turning to me, she started to stroke me through the pink plastic material, rubbing it gently against my thighs and arms. She pushed me back against the cushions, and then climbing on top of me, started to make love to me again. I tried to flip back the hood, but she insisted I kept it up over my head, and one hand constantly caressed me through the hood. Soon her lips were on mine, and I felt the strange sensation of my lipstick mingling and smearing hers.
Meanwhile her right hand was feverishly stroking the top of my thighs through the plastic raincoat skirts, and then I felt her fingers explore my upper thigh, stroking the bare flesh just inside one leg of the panties.
Suddenly, her mouth left mine, and she bent over me and her head disappeared under the skirt of the mac. I felt her sticky lips on my thighs, then her mouth was over the bulge in my panties, and she licked and nibbled at my manhood through its delicious satin covering.
When I thought I must come, She reappeared, pulled my penis free of the panties, and gently pulled it through the front of the raincoat between two of the buttons. Now it was surrounded by pink satin and pink plastic, and she took its full length in her mouth and with her left hand exploring the orifice inside the back of my panties, brought me to a screaming climax of greater intensity than anything I had experienced that evening.
I pumped what felt like gallons of cum into her willing mouth, and she accepted and swallowed every drop. My body pulsed with the waves of pleasure coursing through it.
Finally, she released me from her mouth, and slid up the settee towards me. Her makeup was smeared and now I could see what colour she had painted my lips. Baby pink, just the same colour as my lovely plastic raincoat.
"There, darling, as I promised you, I will reward you when you do things right. That is a taste of what you can expect. Now, tidy yourself up, and when you've sorted the wet washing, we'll eat."
I raised myself with difficulty from the settee. At least, the tenting had disappeared, at least temporarily.
"Take your mac off, and redo your lips, dear. I want that lesson to last a bit longer. You'll find your lipstick in the pocket of your apron. Try to make a good job of it, dear"
I suddenly didn't like how the word 'your' kept appearing, and I was very suspicious of how well everything seemed to be in place, like the clothes, all of which seemed to fit me well.
How long had she been planning this?
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