She Stoops to Conquer part 5
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She Stoops To Conquer Part 3 free porn video
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 girl's 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 from 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?
Maddy
- 27.10.2021
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