She Stoops To Conquer

by Priscilla

Chapter 7

 

As we left 'Maid in England' the rain had eased to a drizzle, so Jenn decided we would walk the few blocks to Oxford Street, as where she was parked was free for the rest of the afternoon. She opened the boot of the car, so I could deposit the parcels from the shop, then she linked arms with me as we strode through the damp but crowded streets. Saturday is always busy in the West End, and a little rain does not deter addicted shoppers.

"Well, it was interesting to meet Sara and Gary, don't you think?" said Jenn. "I think Sara may well use Gary's desire to dress for her own purposes, once she gets over the novelty. Anyway, I'm sure it won't be as bad as she fears. I'll try to keep in touch to see how things develop, and compare notes."

Notes? On what?

We turned into Oxford Street and slowed to snail's pace wit the crowded pavements. Jenn seemed to know exactly where we were headed. Finally, she turned us into a large shoe shop that had 'Sales – Prices slashed' or some such all over the windows.

"Pet honey, you know what was wrong with both your maid outfits? Shoes, your tan sandals really don't go with either dress, dear. So we've got to find proper shoes for you to match, in pink and black."

We found ourselves in the women's section, so Jenn led me from display to display, looking for black shoes. I noticed that she seemed to be showing interest only in those with high slender heels. Finally she selected a pair, what I later found are called 'court' shoes, in high gloss black leather, and with a straight 3½ inch heel, shaped almost like a chisel.

She looked round for an unoccupied assistant; a young teenaged girl came over to help. Jenn asked her if they had size 8 in that style, and the girl went off to the back of the shop to search. We carried on browsing, and in a few minutes, the girl returned with a box. We found vacant seats, and the girl knelt down in front of Jenn. As I sat, I was relieved to note that the hem of my raincoat just covered the hem of the pink skirt.

"No sorry, dear, they are not for me, they are for my husband here."

I'm not sure who was the more embarrassed, me or the young girl. She slid across to in front of me, not daring to look up into my face. She undid the buckle on my left shoe, and taking a black shoe from the box, eased it over my foot. It was a little tight in places, but the biggest difference was in how it curved so much from toes to heel. I put my foot down on the carpet, and even though I'd been wearing 'heels' all morning, this felt quite different. My foot seemed to be bent into a quite unnatural shape.

The girl removed my other sandal, and fitted the right shoe. Placing both feet down, side by side, I was concerned that I would have difficulty standing without falling forward. Jenn perceived this, and stood to help me up.

"Just put your feet a little apart, dear, and if necessary bend your knees slightly" she addressed to me, and as an aside to the girl "His first high heels, he will have to get used to them, I suppose" and grinned.

The young girl grinned back, but still avoided making eye contact with me. With Jenn's steadying arm, I stood, and yes, bending the knees slightly did help. Even so, I doubted I'd be able to walk any distance in these heels, and even standing in them for any time would be exhausting. How on earth did women wear them all day?

I was then required to walk up and down the carpet, both so that I could find whether they fitted comfortably, and Jenn could see whether the style was acceptable to her. I had no say in the latter. They were far less uncomfortable than I expected, although such high heels did make walking a new experience. Jenn told me to take smaller steps, and that helped. They were not as unstable as I expected, just a rather strange feeling on the ankles and knees.

Jenn finally declared herself satisfied, and I was allowed to sit. Jenn then asked the assistant if they had the shoes in any other colours. She explained that she was particularly looking for pink. Unfortunately (for Jenn) they didn't have that style in pink, so Jenn left me at the chair while she and the assistant prowled the displays in the shop searching for pink. They eventually returned with two pairs, one a low heel and the other a similarly high heel in pink satin.

"This is really for a wedding but they are the only ones with sufficiently high heels, dear," Jenn smiled.

So of course I had to try them on, and to swan up and down in them to see that they were a fit. I also had to lift my coat, so that Jenn – and of course every one else in the shop – could see that I was wearing a pink pvc dress. Jenn's 'excuse' was that she wanted to be sure that the pinks matched. She was not completely satisfied, but they seemed to be the only ones near to the right colour.

"Oh, I've just thought" the young assistant suddenly piped up "I don't know if they will be any good, but we have recently had in new stock, some latest fashion in ankle boots, and there are some in shiny pink."

Jenn expressed interest, so the girl went off to find a pair.

"I hadn't thought of ankle boots, Pet, but they could look lovely with your pink dress."

The assistant returned with a box then opened it to reveal a highly shiny pair of boots with metallic slender heels, looking like long nails. The toes were exaggeratedly pointed, and each boot had a zip on the inside.

Jenn clapped her hands in delight. "These are just perfect, Pet, they will go with your pink dress perfectly, you must try them on, dear."

This last was a command, not a wish.

Wearily, I offered my feet to the assistant, and this time using a long shoehorn, squeezed the by now rather tired feet into the pink boots. My toes seemed to come nowhere near the pointed toes of the boots, but were squeezed in together in a most unnatural way. My feet had to arch severely at the insteps, as the heels were even more extreme. When the assistant zipped them up, the tops gripped my legs tightly about six inches above the ankles. Only now did I see that each boot had a pink plastic bow fixed to the heel.

"Oh I adore them, darling, they are so YOU. Careful standing, dear, these are higher and slimmer heels than you've tried before."

With her help – and I needed it – I got to my feet, and felt the strain on my calf muscles of just standing. I felt that I wanted to lean forward all the time, so severe were the heels and their slenderness made the shoes very unstable. After prompting from Jenn, I managed a few steps.

"Come on, silly, just remember that young teenage girls dance all night in boots like that, you should be able to walk a bit at least."

I paraded up and down, getting more confidence in them, if not comfort, until Jenn relented, and let me sit back down.

She turned to the assistant. ""Yes, they'll do perfectly, he'll take them," and they exchanged smiles.

The assistant helped me out of them, while Jenn wandered around the shop, in particular at the 'Sale' displays. I just sat and revelled in freed feet for a time. Jenn returned with a shiny brown boot with the same 'chisel' heels as the black shoes.

"Darling, these are in the Sale at only £10, they're your size, and will do when we go out for walks with the dog" she enthused.

Me go out walking often dressed like this?

As the assistant was away wrapping up our other purchases, I put them on without help. Once again, they had zips up the inside of the leg that came right down to the ankle. The toes were mercifully square cut, and I got into the boots very easily. Once zipped up, they clung to my legs all the way up. I also found that they were fairly comfortable to walk in, apart from the height of the heel.

"Wonderful, Petal darling, they go so well with the mac, so leave them on, you can wear them home, so much more sensible than the sandals in this weather" Jenn said.

Once again, I had to use my little handbag to pay for the three pairs of shoes and boots, and soon, with a sympathetic smile from members of the shop staff who must have heard about me, we left the shop with a large bag containing my purchases. It took me some time to get used to taking shorter steps in the new boots, but they were certainly more comfortable than the pink boots or black shoes.

We headed along Oxford Street through the wet crowds, until we reached a Boots the Chemist. Jenn left me outside while she disappeared inside for a few moments, saying that she had to get a few things. I felt very vulnerable standing outside dressed as I was. Surely everyone realised I was a man in woman's clothing, dressed in such sexy clothes. But the rain kept most people's head down, either into their umbrellas, or with hoods on their coats keeping the wet out. I did notice that I attracted some glances from passing men, which I suspect was because of the lovely and sexy blue raincoat I was wearing.

Jenn joined me, and we merged in with the crowds. We were walking away from where the car was parked, and she seemed to just want me to get used to being among people dressed as I was. My confidence grew as I encountered no further embarrassing moments. Occasionally, She would lead me over to a shop window and point out a dress or other feminine garment that she liked, and ask my opinion of it as if I would like to wear it. I couldn't decide whether this was teasing, or a deliberate move to put me more at ease.

We eventually reached Marble Arch, and Jenn led me into the tube station. She decided that it was too long a walk back to the car, so we would ride the tube back to Oxford Street station, from where it would be a short walk back to the car. We got our tickets and descended to the Central Line platform. It was crowded, and when a train arrived, we had to stand in quite a crush. I hung onto a strap, and once the train was moving, I felt a hand stroking my bottom through my mac. I turned slowly in the direction of the hand, and found that a middle-aged man was pressed up against me in the crush. He gave no sign of embarrassment, but I was sure that he was 'feeling up' either me or my mac.

Even worse was to occur after Bond Street, when the train became even more crowded, and I felt my 'breasts' being stroked, again by a man, but he could easily have been doing it accidentally because of the crowding. Did every woman have to suffer this in crowded trains?

I was so glad when we got off at Oxford Street, but even on the escalator, I felt unseen hands on my body. It must have been the magical attraction of them mac. It was a relief to finally get out into the rainy street, heading back to the car. Once there we put the packages in the car, then Jenn led me around to the passenger side.

"Darling, one thing you need to learn when wearing a skirt is how to get into and out of a car, so that you don't give a display of your panties."

She opened the door, and slid inside, then got out again.

"You see, you need to lower your bottom onto the seat first, keeping your legs together, then swing your legs in. When you want to get out do it all in reverse, swing your body outwards first, put both feet out together, keeping your knees together. That way no one can see up your skirt, and you wouldn't want that, dear" she grinned. "Now you try."

I gingerly backed into the seat, remembering to sweep the back of my coat under my bottom as it descended towards the seat. Once seated, I swung my boot-clad legs into the car.

"Wonderful, Petal, no one would have seen anything" she chided.

She drove through the wet roads towards home, and was strangely silent. I was too overcome with the morning's events to want to chat. I sat and analysed the changed sensations I was experiencing from the day before. My hair felt odd with the ends just brushing my cheeks and the sides of my neck. My head was covered in a hood, and its weight made me aware of the tightly tied ribbon on my pigtail.

My face felt odd covered with foundation cream, and I could smell the subtle aroma of the powder. My eyelids felt heavier and fuller than usual with the false eyelashes and mascara. My lips stuck together with the lipstick and lipgloss.

Under my chin, the bow of the ribbons of the mac's hood pressed gently on my throat. I could feel the mac's lining on my bare back arms and chest, and the buttoned cuffs were touching my wrists all round. Also the plastic 'lace' trim around front and back necks and sleeves felt unsmooth.

Around my chest, my 'breasts' were being squeezed inwards and upwards by a combination of the breastforms, which I could barely feel, so adapted were they to my body temperature, the corset and waist cincher. From my hips to my chest, all flesh was being compressed and strangled by corset and cincher. My male parts were effectively contained within silk panties, and further compressed by the lower part of the corset.

Four suspender straps to each leg pressed against each thigh, and I sensed the tension on the tops of my fine stockings. The full pink pvc skirt lay cool over the bare parts of my thighs, and the ends of my blue pvc raincoat brushed my knees. As I clenched my hands, the extensions on my nails pressed into my palms.

My lower legs were firmly encased in leather boots, and my feet, now decorated bright red at the tips, were compressed into high heels and square toes of the boots. Most of my body was externally covered with a soft sensuous blue shiny raincoat, and a small handbag containing my makeup among other things sat in my lap.

And what had I learnt in the past twenty-four hours? Well, how to tie and arrange a bow properly, to dress in women's clothes, to paint my lips, to wash delicate underwear, and how to get into and out of a car without flashing your panties. Some achievement.

Despite the traffic, we arrived home in reasonable time. Jenn handed me the car keys and told me to collect the parcels from the boot, before putting the car in the garage. And not to forget how to get in and out of the car. She disappeared inside the house.

I did as instructed and walked in the front door, my arms full of parcels. As I gently pushed the door closed behind me with my bottom, Jenn appeared from the lounge door, grabbed my arm, and dragged me into the lounge. She took the parcels from me and laid them on the coffee table. Then she pushed me back onto the large sofa, and climbed astride me.

She had taken off her blouse and skirt, and was wearing bra, suspender belt, stockings and boots inside her lovely black raincoat. She slid my mac and skirt up around my waist. Her hand went to my panties and pulled them down to my thighs, and freed my manhood from inside the corset. Given the stimulation it had received that morning, not surprisingly, it went very hard, helped by her hand vigorously stroking it.

When she was satisfied that it was hard and long enough for her, she climbed onto it, letting my swollen penis enter her juicy temple. Her vagina muscles gripped my tightly – yet one more part of my body firmly encased – and she lowered herself onto me. Her luscious mouth found mine, and our lipsticks merged in a sexual frenzy. Her tongue sunk deep into my mouth and thrashed around. Her hands worked feverishly at the buttons of my raincoat and once they were undone, sought my new 'breasts' which they frantically fondled through my pink pvc dress. Her fingers found their way inside my bra, and played with my nipples until they became very sensitive and hard.

All the while, her supple hips were grinding onto me, bringing me very rapidly towards climax. Once again, she seemed to be able to sense when to stop just before I could 'shoot my load', and allow my sexual arousal to diminish sufficiently to start the process going again, each time with even more thrills of arousal. When I thought that I would be unable to hold back any longer, she slowed her body gyrations to bring me to the 'boil' very slowly and sensuously, so that she had controlled me to exactly coincide with her orgasm. As my manhood finally arrived at nirvana, she arched her back above me, and started to shake violently all through her body, screaming "Yes! yes!, yes!" at the top of her voice.

After what seemed minutes of this, she slowly subsided, and collapsed with her arms around my hooded neck, and her forehead resting on my painted cheek. We both lay exhausted and satisfied for a long time, cuddling in each others arms.

  

  

  

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