She Stoops to Conquer

by Priscilla

Part 4

 

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. Peter begins to experience the punishments and rewards on offer as inducements.

Now read on.

How long had she been planning this?

So there I stood, dressed in skirt, ribby top, panties, plastic apron, pink plastic mac, strappy sandals with 1" heel, with my hair tied in a ponytail with a long pink ribbon, and my lips coated with baby pink lipstick. Me, the rugby player, husband and lover of Jennie. And all at her instructions.

And now I had been instructed to reapply the lipstick that had become smeared during our lovemaking, using my lipstick now sitting in the pocket of my plastic apron.

What was happening to me?

But after the incredible bj Jennie had just given me, my mind was in a whirl. My pulse was still racing, and my mouth was sticky with a mixture of my cum and lipstick from our lips.

Jennie turned from me and went back into the kitchen, so I walked through into the hall where we had a large mirror. Staring at myself, I was stunned. No, the image of a beautiful girl didn't look back at me, what I saw was an effeminate man with lipstick smeared around his mouth wearing a sexy pink plastic mac with the hood up covering his long hair pulled back from his face. I could see my bare legs beneath the hem of the mac, and the delicate little tan sandals with their slender straps and small spiked heels. I was struck by how my legs looked good in them, apart from their hairiness.

But enough idle musing. I had an order to carry out. We keep a box of tissues on the hall stand, and taking one, I wiped the smudged pink lipstick from around my mouth. I then opened the buttons of my mac below the belt, and felt in the heart shaped pocket of the apron for the lipstick.

Then for the first time ever, I took out the colourful tube from my pocket, and slipped the top off. I noticed that the head of the lipstick was shaped to an edge – so many things new to me since Jennie started my regime – and so I used it to carefully coat my lips again in the pretty pink colour. It had been a strange sensation when Jennie had done it earlier, but this was something again. Me, applying lipstick, and trying my hardest to make it look good.

Well, I wasn't very good at it all, I now know, but even then I was not too impressed with my efforts. I tried to colour only the areas of my lips that were naturally red, and this made my mouth seem very thin. And in my efforts, I put it on too thickly, but heck, it was my first time. Most women take ages to develop such skills.

When I was satisfied that my lips were now completely covered in pink, I recapped the lipstick and slipped it back into my apron pocket. My, the cold soft plastic of the mac was quite a turn on, and for a few moments I indulged myself, pulling the hood forward over my head, then flicking it back so that it hung down my back. I half turned so that I could see how the hood lay on my back, with the pink ribbons curving over it. I slipped my hands into the two deep pockets, pulling the plastic tight over my bare shoulders. It felt good, and I gave my image in the mirror a little smile.

As I did, I heard a giggle from behind, and turning I saw Jennie standing at the kitchen door, watching my little performance with that enigmatic smile on her lips.

Blushing furiously, I click-clicked back into the utility room, and most reluctantly unbelted and unbuttoned the pink plastic mac. Despite our lovemaking on the couch, the mac was still damp on the outside from the rain I had encountered in the garden, so I took it to the back door and shook it carefully before hanging it back behind the door.

My first job was to set up the clothes horse, and then I arranged the damp clothes brought in from the line on its various rails. My lessons were being learnt, as each time hung a garment on the lower rails, I bent my knees to lower myself instead of bending at the knees. This may be better for my posture, but I was doing it to avoid giving anyone watching a display of my satin panties.

And I found that it made my balance in the heeled sandals much easier. I was surprised that despite the raised heel, I was finding them not too uncomfortable, although my toes were damp from the wet grass. As I lowered myself at to hook some sports socks on the bottom rail, I noticed that the heels had picked up some soil from the lawn, so sitting on a stool, I raised each foot to wipe the sole and heel of the shoes with a cloth. And I was careful to smooth the back of my skirt down as I sat, so yet another lesson learnt.

I finished the hand wash, rinsed the things in warm water, and then wrung each item tightly to get out as much water as possible. As I was doing it, Jennie came in, and seeing what I was doing, screeched at me.

"Stop that, you fool, you'll ruin all my things. Treat them gently, they are not wash rags to be wrung like that."

"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't know"

"No, Peter dear, what you mean is that you didn't think. You have been handling all those soft delicate things, and you are wearing panties that are almost weightless, and you should have realised that women's lingerie is fragile."

"Yes, I won't do it again, darling."

"Well, I think that I want to give you something to remind you of that, so come on, back up to the bedroom."

Oh no, what was it this time? Obviously not a reward, but what sort of punishment?

I followed Jennie into the hall and up the stairs. We made an interesting spectacle, she in black pvc basque, suspenders, black thigh boots, and blue plastic apron – this last looking somewhat incongruous over the otherwise erotic outfit (all of it erotic to me at that time) – and I following in white top and blue skirt, tan sandals, and pink ruffled plastic apron.

I found that climbing stairs in heels was a new experience. I had to walk on my toes only, as otherwise I found that it was easy to catch the heel on the edge of the step. So much to learn.

Jennie entered the bedroom, and told me to take off my apron, skirt, and shoes. I reached behind my waist, and pulled the long ribbons holding the apron around my waist. Then I had to carefully shrug myself out of the cross straps over my shoulders. Once free, I tossed the apron on the bed, and twisting the waistband of the skirt around me, brought the buttons and zip to the front so that it was an easy matter to undo them and then step out of the skirt.

I dropped the skirt on the top of the apron, then sitting on the bed, unbuckled each sandal and pulled them off. I did remember to smooth my panties under me as I sat, although it seemed unnecessary for panties.

While I did this Jennie stood by her chest of drawers watching my performance. When I was finished, she turned and opened the middle drawer. From it she took a pack of tan stockings which she held toward me. When I took them, she lifted a frothy pink garment from the drawer, and handed that to me.

"That is a suspender belt, Peter. It is used to hold up stockings. Most women wore them until tights were introduced in the sixties. As you know, I usually wear tights, but once they are on you don't notice them. I want you to be reminded of the delicate garments you are wearing to appreciate them and be more careful, so you will wear suspender belt and stockings. Now, place it round your waist, and fasten it at the front. And make sure that the straps are all hanging down properly."

I held the belt in front of me between my hands and opened it out. It was made of an elasticated pink satiny material, and covered liberally with ruffles of pink lace. Hanging from it at uneven intervals were four straps, similarly decorated in lace, each ending in a piece of curved metal or plastic.

I stood, and passed the belt around the waist. I noticed that the end had three columns of two metal eyes, and the other end a matching pair of hooks. I gingerly connected the hooks into the middle column of eyes, and then settled the belt onto my waist.

"Now remember how you put the skirt on dear, the hooks and eyes must be at the back."

I carefully slid the belt around until the opening was at the back. To help me, I noticed that there was a pretty pink bow in the front centre.

"Slip the straps inside your panties, darling, so they hang against your skin. That's so that when you go to the toilet, you can pull down your panties without undoing your suspenders."

I did as she told me, and could feel the thin lacy straps against my thighs.

"Now for a most important lesson, Peter, and before we do it, let me see your hands."

I held out my hands to her, and she inspected the nails.

"Oh dear, they won't do. Again, another sign of your slovenliness, your nails are both dirty and ragged. I know, you chew them but from now on, you must learn to look after them."

She turned to the dressing table, and then handed me a diamond nail file.

"Firstly, clean under the nails, then gently file the edges to get rid of any snags. Later, we will do something more with them."

Oh no, more threats. I used the point to dig out the black linings to my nails, then smoothly filed each nail. When I had finished, Jennie again took my hands for inspection.

"As good as can be expected, I suppose, but we'll have to work on them. But for now, I don't want you to snag your stockings, so put these on."

She took a slender pair of pink gloves from the drawer, and passed them to me. They were smaller then my hands, but with care I managed to get them on. They were of a very thin soft material, probably silk or nylon, and extended to my elbows.

"Now, honey, sit on the bed, and I'll teach you how to put on your stockings without laddering them. I suppose your toenails are as bad as your fingernails, but we've no time to deal with them now, so you'll have to be very careful putting on the feet of the stockings."

I sat, and she told me to take the stockings from the pack. They were tan coloured, filmy as gossamer, with a seam going up the back.

"Now, dear, take one and grip it at the top opening between the fingers of both hands. That's right, now, ruffle it up into your fingers like this."

She took one of the stockings, and gripping it between her thumbs, used her fingers to gather in the stocking between thumb and forefinger.

"It is most important that this is done right, as you must be sure not to twist it so that the seam stays straight. Now you try, firstly make sure that you are holding it with the foot pointing forward, then keep going until you reach the toes."

I gathered in the soft nylon into my hands, and with care found that when I reached the foot, it was still pointing away from me! I had never before appreciated how difficult getting dressed could be.

"Now point your toes, and carefully slip your foot into the stocking. Just be careful of your rough toenails, dear."

I gingerly pushed my pointed foot into the stocking, and began very carefully arranged the reinforced part over my toes. Then, with Jenn's guidance. I drew the ultra soft fabric up my leg, ensuring that its heel fit snugly round mine, and that the slender seam stayed straight up the back of my leg. At first I thought it was too short, as its top barely reached over my knee, but Jenn showed me how to smooth the material up from the ankle so that eventually it stretched to my upper thigh. The caress of the delicate nylon against my bare skin excited my sex to strain against its pink panty jail.

"Now, take the tab on the front suspender strap, hook the top of the stocking over the little plastic button. That's right dear, now fix it into the metal hook thing."

This was the first time I'd had my fingers on a suspender strap, and I marvelled at the clever but simple system for holding the stocking top up. Not that it made fixing it any easier with my trembling fingers. But at last it was done.

"Good, hon, now the other foot."

With my new learnt skills, putting the next stocking on was easy, but no less exciting. I looked down at my legs, and they looked very sexy in their luxurious tan coating.

"Right, dear, now stand up, and attach the back suspender straps."

I stood, and could see my legs in the mirror. They didn't look right, as the stockings were well up my thighs at the front, but hanging too far down at the back.

"Lift one foot onto the bed, and carefully pull the back of the stocking up with one hand and with the other, bring the back strap down to meet it. Good, now check that the seam is still straight, and then attach the tab."

Goodness, these back ones were more difficult than the front ones, but eventually both were attached, and now the stockings looked right on my legs.

"Now adjust the length of the straps so that they are tight and hold up the stockings properly."

This took a few minutes, as each one had to be altered, not easy with shaking hands.

"Good, darling, that is much better, and you did well for your first time."

First time? Didn't she mean only time? But then, I have to admit that the stockings did feel good.

"Right, put your sandals back on, and then you can see how good those stockings make your legs look."

Once again, I sat on the bed, and buckled the sandals onto my nylon encased feet. The stockings made the shoes more comfortable on my feet, and when I stood, my legs did look nicer.

But hang on, since when did a rugby player care how his legs looked?

"Honey, just walk up and down a few times to make sure that the suspenders and stockings feel right."

I paced to and fro across the bedroom floor feeling the sensations of suspenders and stockings. Feel alright? It felt strange but exciting, erotic; the thin nylon on each leg swished against the other as they passed, and the suspender straps were alive, stretching and contracting in turn, and rubbing sensuously against my thighs at every move.

Jenn stopped me, and made me turn my back to the mirror, so that I could look behind me to check that the seams were straight. Once we were both satisfied, she again went to her chest of drawers, and this time took from it a pink satin bra, which matched in colour and decoration the belt and panties I was already wearing.

"This is a separate punishment, darling, and can you guess what for?"

Oh no, what had I done, or not done this time? My mind raced, and then I noticed the crumpled pile of clothed on the bed.

"Oh, Jennie, I am so sorry, I left the skirt and things in a heap."

"That's right, so to remind you, you will wear this bra. Here, see if you can put it on yourself."

I was beginning to twig certain similarities in women's clothing, in particular that they almost all buttoned or joined at the back. Why is this, not the most practical, while we men are happy to have our buttons zips etc. up front?

I took the bra from Jenn, and held it out in front of myself. I scrutinised the ends to see how they joined; again, they were the same as the suspender, two rows of hooks and eyes, with three columns of eyes to allow for different bust sizes.

"You may wish to loosen the shoulder straps before you put it on, dear."

Good advice. I slackened off those straps through the buckles, and then wrapped the bra around my chest, holding the ends in front of me. Looking down, I attached the hooks and eyes on the loosest fittings, and then swivelled everything around my body.

That's when I found I had got a twist in it, so I had to start again this time checking that it was all straight before hooking up. Then I wriggled my arms inside the shoulder straps. Once again, the bra featured a pink bow between the cups, and I soon had this centred on my chest.

I then noticed that the cups were quite stiff, which I later learnt was due to a certain amount of built in padding.

"Pull the cups down until they are over your nipples, and then tighten the shoulder straps so that the cups sit there easily."

With a bit of manipulation, I got the bra sitting right, and then Jenn told me to put my top and skirt back on.

By now, the skirt was easy, but the top took a bit more adjusting over my body to allow for the bra underneath. When it was finally in place, I looked down, and was alarmed to see that I now had small but noticeable mounds on my chest. I was also aware of the tightness of the straps on my shoulders and around my chest. Jennie was right, wearing a bra would be a constant reminder to me.

And of course, all this activity had disturbed the ribbon in my hair, so once again I had to tie a big bow and carefully arrange the ribbons down my bare back.

"Very good, dear, you are looking prettier than ever" Jenn teased. "But you must do something with your lips. Here, sit at the vanity table."

Smoothing my skirt under me, and thrilling to the new feel of the belt and stocking tops, I sat in front of the table mirror, and Jennie handed me a tissue to wipe my lips.

"I want you to watch this and learn, as I will expect you to fix your own lips from now on, dear."

She then dabbed onto my lips a thin coating of foundation cream, which she explained would help the lipstick to stick to my lips. Then she took a lip pencil and leaning my head back, drew an outline around my lips, making them fuller than natural. The outer line was of a darker pink than I had been wearing.

"That is the first stage, to define the shape of your lips, dear. Now you can use the lipstick to fill inside the lipliner, just like you did as a child with colouring in books."

I picked my (my? I'm thinking that way now) apron up, and took the plastic lipstick tube from its front pocket. I took the top off it, unwound it, and was about to apply it to my lips in front of the mirror when Jenn stopped me.

"No, dear, that is the way you do it when you are out (?) When you first apply your lipstick, at the start of each day, you will do it properly, using this".

I winced at the implied threats in these latest words, but took from her a fine brush, which she explained was a lipstick brush. For the next fifteen minutes, I was given a detailed lesson on how a woman applies her lipstick, using the brush, tissues and eventually a smear of lip-gloss. Jenn made me paint my lips at least five times, between each having to clean them off using cold cream and tissues. On the last attempt, my hand had ceased shaking sufficiently that I even made a reasonable job of applying the liner so that it made my lips seem so much fuller.

As I sat back after my final attempt, having taken off the surplus lipstick, added a touch of powder, then lightly sponged on lipgloss, I could only smile at how attractive my lips now seemed in the cute pink tone.

"There, darling, doesn't that look much better? I'm proud of how you have learnt to do this so quickly. From now on I'll expect you to do your lips by yourself. Now, come on, it's nearly suppertime, so get your apron on and come down to the kitchen. You can finish the washing after we've eaten."

With that she slipped off her apron, and taking a black shirtwaister dress from her wardrobe swung out of the bedroom, leaving me to arrange my apron carefully over my more ample figure. The heart shaped bib of the apron accentuated my new 'breasts' and I couldn't help twirling on one heel before the mirror to admire my more feminine shape.

But this was dangerous. I had an instruction, so as quickly as possible in the unused to heels, I descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. Jenn had prepared us a tuna salad; a disappointment to me as Friday was usually takeaway fish and chips with thick crispy batter.

Seeing the slightly crestfallen expression on my face, Jenn said "Darling, I hope you weren't expecting your usual Friday dinner. From now, you will take an interest in your figure and appearance, and that includes getting your body into better shape. You will cut out fatty matters like fish and chips, and have a healthy calorie controlled diet, cut down on your drinking, and get more exercise. Now I know that you think that you don't care about how you look, but I saw you upstairs, how pleased you were with your pretty lips. That is a start, and we have the rest of the weekend to really make you want to look better."

She picked up her plate and walked into the dining room. I took mine and followed, and placing my plate in my usual place on the table, sat remembering to smooth my skirt under me.

"Oh dear, Pete, you'll have to do better than that. Now, think, what have you failed to do there?"

Oh no, not more punishment. Well, the skirt smoothing was right, so what was it?

"I'm sorry, Jenn darling, I can't think."

"Well, firstly, each meal should be a special event, particularly those we have together. Do you feel that you are dressed for it properly?"

I looked down, and then realised that I still had my apron on.

"Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't think" I stammered, jumping to my feet, "I'll take it off now."

I rushed into the kitchen, only to return to a shouted "Come back."

"That is the first thing. But before that, you had not bothered enough about your appearance. I chose that apron for you for various reasons, one of which is that it has long ribbons at the waist for tying at the back. Now I told you how I want the bow tied in your hair ribbon, and I assumed, over-optimistically it seems, that you would do the same with any bow you had to tie. But you have just slung it together, with the bow off-centre, and the two bows and tailings of quite different length."

"Okay, go and take it off, and we will keep your lesson until after we have eaten."

I returned chastened to the kitchen, hung the apron carefully behind the door, and re-entered the dining room where Jenn was still standing beside her chair. I pulled mine from the table and sat.

"Wrong again, dear, what about some respect for me, your wife?"

I leapt to my feet, and pulled her chair out for her, easing it in behind her as she sat. I then returned to my own and sat opposite her.

"Darling, I think we should celebrate the start of you new life with a toast. Would you get us both a glass of wine, please?"

I again rose, and taking two glasses from the cabinet, filled them from the wine box kept in the fridge.

As I sat she commented "I won't punish you this time for it, but it is not polite to fill a glass right to the rim. Always leave at least an inch of space in the top of the glass. After all, if you want more you can always pour some more."

After that, we started into our salad. All the evening's activities had made me both incredibly horny, but also for some reason, ravenously hungry, and I tackled the small amount of food on my plate with gusto. (What does that mean? It sounds a bit like an Italian sauce).

Jenn picked at her food, and regarded me from across the table with that dread smile on her lips. What had I done now?

I finished well before her, and stretched back in my chair. When she finally cleared her plate, I had the good sense to rise first, and clear the plates from the table into the kitchen.

From the doorway, Jenn trilled "Come into the lounge, we have a lot to talk about."

She took one of the large easy chairs, and indicated for me to sit in the other. I sat back, with my legs apart stretched out over the carpet.

"Pete dear, when I first thought of this plan, I had only a few of your bad habits in mind to cure, like your scruffy hair, your lack of care of clothes. But I must apologise. In the hour or two since we started this experiment, my eyes have been opened to how much you have let yourself go, or possibly how much I have tolerated in the past. "

"Now, I am not blaming you entirely for this; I should have realised a long time ago, and taken steps then, so this decline in your self-respect could have been halted long ago. Well, it is not too late, but the task will unfortunately be harder than I first expected. To be honest, I assumed that I would be able to more or less change you over this weekend, with the occasional reminders in the future. "

"First, let me detail the things that you have done wrong since you learnt to put on lipstick properly. I've told you about dressing tidily for dinner, tying a proper bow, and being attentive to me. But add to that the way you bolted your food, scarcely giving time to enjoying it, shoving into your mouth with no finesse; then taking great gulps of your wine, making no attempt at conversation at the table. And now, you sit in a most slovenly manner, legs wide apart, stretched out almost horizontally on your chair. "

"Well, all this is wrong, and we will correct it. But I have changed my plans for you for this weekend, and it will continue for some time to come. We will have to start from a more basic level with you, and add inducements and reminders which will instil better habits in you permanently."

"But please don't take this the wrong way. I love you as much as ever, possibly even more for your acceptance of this new regime. I promise you that I will do nothing to you that you will regret eventually, and I want our lovemaking to benefit from it and that we take it to a new plane."

"Still with me, dear?"

I wasn't sure how to take this as I thought that I had been trying to follow her lessons to the full. But then, I could see that from her eyes I hadn't exactly been a husband of whom she could be completely proud.

"Yes of course, Jenn, whatever you say. All I can do is apologise for my ways in the past, and promise to improve. I am happy although nervous to follow whatever course you think I need to be more worthy of you."

"Oh Pete, you are worthy of me, love, but much of the time you appear not to be worthy of yourself to others. What I most want is for you to have confidence and pride in yourself."

"Okay, we've had quite a night so far. You can leave the dishes and the rest of the washing until tomorrow; we'll get to bed, and eventually get some sleep, as we both have anew and very busy day ahead tomorrow."

With that, she stood, took my hand and led me upstairs to our bedroom. Once there, she turned to me, pressed her lips to mine, while her hands went around my waist. I could feel her undoing the buttons of my skirt, and then drawing down the zip, until the skirt fell around my ankles.

Her fingers gripped the hem of my top, and slowly drew it up my body, all the time while our lips were locked in a passionate kiss. As she reached my bra, she gently leant into me so I fell back onto the bed. As I lay there she pulled the top up over my head, then stretched on me. Her mouth covered mine, and her hands stroked my thighs through the nylon of my stockings. From there they progressed up over my frilly panties, and started to stroke my manhood through the filmy material. Needless to say, this aroused me to new heights. Occasionally to add some spice she tweaked my suspender straps. Meanwhile, her ample breasts were themselves massaging my bra, which surprisingly sent frissons of excitement through my torso.

The faint scent of our smudged lipstick also thrilled me, and soon, despite having cum two or three times that evening, I felt my next, and greatest yet, climax approach. Jenn also sensed it and the fingers of one hand crept inside the waistband of my panties and started to rhythmically stroke me.

She used the other hand to stroke the nipple on my left breast, and her mouth moved from mine to my right ear. She darted her tongue in and out of it, and gave the lobes gentle nibbles in between whispering "Cum on Petal, my pretty Petal, you know you want to orgasm for me, pretty darling."

I was too far gone to react to the name of Petal, but the ministrations of her fingers and teeth brought me closer and closer, until in a great torrent, I came into my panties. I let out a squeal of pleasure, and the exquisite tension coursed through my body, until it subsided, and I collapsed back onto the bed.

After the usual minute or so of coming back to earth, I turned on my side towards Jenn who was resting on one elbow studying me with that smile. I moved to take her in my arms to pleasure her in return, but she pushed me away and stood up.

"No, darling, tonight is about you. Just relax there, and I will run you a nice hot bath. I'll call you when it's ready, dear."

With that, she turned and headed for the bathroom. I lay still, trying to absorb all the events that had occurred since I'd got home that evening. Some of it was scary, some bizarre, but an awful lot of it unbelievable sexual pleasure. Surprisingly, I found that it was not always easy to separate the good from the bad; most of it had some enjoyment factor, however embarrassing.

I must have dozed, but was wakened by a call from the door.

"Wakey – wakey, sleepyhead, time for Petal's bath. Be careful how you take off your undies, as they are the only ones you've got at the mo. You can handwash them tomorrow before we go out. Put them all in the laundry basket except the bra, and get into the bath. I'll be in soon to shampoo your hair."

I dragged my tired body off the bed and into the bathroom to find the bath full of bubbles and the air scented with a delicate perfume. Doing as I had been told, I stripped off carefully and dropped panties, suspender belt, and stockings in the basket, and folded the bra as neatly as I could on the bathroom chair. I stepped gingerly into the foam, but found the water just at my favourite temperature, not too hot but above body temperature. I sank gratefully into it,

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