Taffeta Torment VII
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Taffeta Torment XIII free porn video
By the time they arrived at Elsie's expansive house it was gone midnight.
The garage was attached to the building making the transfer of cargo,
human and otherwise, that much simpler and since it was not overlooked,
in fact a short distance away from the nearby town, there was no chance
of them being disturbed in their industry.
Jason remained motionless on the back seat, partially through fatigue and
partially because of the confines of the nylon and satin prison into
which he had been secured some hours earlier by the three women who were
now busily making preparations for their new house guest.
The incessant click and clack of high heels on the concrete garage floor,
a rhythmic sound of precision stilettos moving to and fro, working in
perfect harmony as small vanity cases, filled with make-up and lipsticks,
were ferried from the car into the house by the side door.
Now and again he was stirred by the delicious scent of perfumes that
drifted his way; the rattle of busy stilettos also broke his reveries as
did the faint rustle and swish of nylons touching taffeta slips and satin
skirts as the car was at last emptied of its contents bar the one that
mattered most.
Inane chattering of female voices also hovered over Jason's head, encased
as it was in Elsie's sheerest nylon stocking and two of her silkiest,
smoothest headscarves, one as a gag to keep his pacifier in place, the
other to nestle gently over his hair and temples as a constant reminder
of his confinement.
"Oh, I really hope he's going to like his bedroom," Elsie proclaimed with
a trace of anxiety.
"I've seen the photographs, it looks divine darling," Moira responded.
"The time and money I've spent on getting the right ambience, the right
colours, shades and materials, it's been such a bother but I'm sure it
will be all right for our little boy."
"He'll fall in love with it immediately," reassured Brenda and thus the
three women twittered on endlessly as they performed their tasks,
oblivious to their young prisoner still lying on the back seat of their
car.
Elsie picked up a remote and locked the garage door from the inside while
her two companions unfastened Jason's seat belt and helped the teenager
to his feet.
"You take him upstairs and get him settled darlings, I'll make sure we're
all locked up down here."
Jason was still drowsy, he didn't know why, but as he was swept along
forcibly by Brenda and Moira, he felt a rapidly increasing pleasure as
his taffeta slip repeatedly slithered up against his sheer stockings, the
movement cushioned by the pink satin lining of the severely ruched skirt
of his gown.
At the top of the stairs there were several choices of bedrooms and it
was into the furthest from the entrance to the landing that he was
ushered. Once inside, he was jolted by an overwhelming sensation of
femininity and the delicate trimmings of his surroundings.
A gilded mirror with matching chair and a table festooned with lipstick
holders, pink powder puffs and brushes and other vanity products greeted
his gaze before the huge double bed, with a large satin duvet in flimsy
lilac commanded his attention. The pillows, wrapped in frilly satin pink
cases, oozed a sensuality under subdued bedside lighting, tiny lace-edged
lampshades in what looked like a silverish nylon fabric radiating a soft,
seductive glow.
"Now darling, let's get you snuggled into bed," Moira said, unbuttoning
his satin cape and easing him gently onto the pink satin sheets that lay
beneath the turned-down lilac duvet.
The ladies smoothed skirts beneath now opened mackintoshes, warming to
the task, as Jason sank helplessly back onto his bed.
Looking across from inside his nylon hood, he spotted four leather
restraints at either side of the bed, firmly fitted to the framework at
various angles, two lower down for comfort presumably, two higher up the
bedpost for something less comfortable perhaps.
Having released the cuff enclosures from two of the restraints, Moira set
about unshackling him from his girdle, first the stockings unclipped from
their suspenders then the longline inverted girdle gradually unzipped and
unlaced. Suddenly Jason could feel movement back in his arms.
Next his lips, still full and glossy from the lipstick Elsie had applied
at the house, were relieved of his pacifier, then came the actual
handcuffs that Moira had originally bound him in as he had tried,
stupidly he now realised, to zip himself up into the garment that now
engulfed almost his entire body.
And just as suddenly came a glimmer of hope, because as the two ladies
fiddled the cuffs off and tried to thread his wrists through his new
bedside bonds, so Jason attempted to make his bid for freedom.
"Darling, what on earth are you trying to do?" laughed a genuinely
mystified Brenda.
Jason was struggling with all his strength to keep his hands free but try
as he might, both women were denying him that privilege without undue
concern.
"You can't want to leave us already sweetie, can you?" asked Moira, now
sat on the bed with her legs crossed and Jason's left arm and wrist
securely under control. On his other flank, Brenda adopted a similar
position while Jason flailed aimlessly to keep himself upright.
It was to no avail. His legs, still gripped by the tight skirt of his
frock, remained flat on the bed, his heels seemingly trapped in the duvet
and unable to give him any purchase.
For the first time he began to realise how weak he really was in upper-
body strength, he had never been a gym freak of any kind, and both Brenda
and Moira pinned him easily to the bed, sitting on top of each arm as his
hands dangled in vain for release.
Now and again he thought he had made progress as he felt the satin lining
of a mackintosh or the intoxicating texture of a satin skirt. As quickly
as hope was rekindled, it flickered and faded. Each touch of the satin
linings or skirt distracted his efforts, his whole body immersed in
spine-tingling and delightful expectation. The ladies restrained him at
their leisure, allowing him the pleasure of touching their satin-infused
garments, crossed their legs with a deliberate zip and swish and then put
emphasis on adjusting their nylons while effortlessly keeping Jason under
control.
"My, my. Our little baby having teething troubles ladies?" Elsie
announced herself entering the bedroom. "I'm sure we can put a stop to
that can't we? Come, come darling, let me help you get settled."
Elsie, in a mass of a metal-grey satin swing coat that clipped her calves
as she moved, floated imperiously to Moira's side, her satin lining
rustling deafeningly in Jason's ear as he watched helpless and impotent
while Elsie delicately positioned a cuff close to his wrist then guided
it gently with a caring almost maternal touch through before belting the
leather bonds tightly enough so that escape was impossible, more so as
Moira clicked a small padlock shut through a specially designed hoop that
doubly secured the strap and buckle of the restraint.
Moira caressed his hand with her satin gloves; Jason was deflated and
then defeated when Brenda repeated the procedure with Elsie's assistance
on the other side of the bed.
"You can't keep me here," Jason cried. Elsie, smoothing her coat beneath
her, sat down to face him close-up as he tried to strike a defiant note.
"We can darling, and we will." She stroked his crumpled brow. "And we'll
keep you as long as we want, until our work is complete."
"I won't let you, I won't be kept here against my own freewill."
As he became more animated, the three ladies smiled indulgently. His legs
were seeking their own release but weighed down by his high heels and
trapped inside his taffeta slip and satin-lined skirt, he only succeeded
in producing a loud whisper of swishing nylon and taffeta. The noise made
him giddy in the head but the sensation of nylon touching nylon sent a
surge of erotic electricity up his back and through his penis which was
growing swiftly and stiffly the more he protested.
Elsie looked lovingly into his eyes as Brenda and Moira tightened their
satin grip and accelerated his erection by gently smoothing his skirt up
and down his helplessly encased and impotent thighs.
"You mustn't upset yourself so darling. We want you to be a little
defiant early on, don't we ladies?" Jason looked around and saw only two
older women caressing his hands and thighs, smiling blandly at one
another as if they already knew the outcome as they nodded in
affirmation.
Elsie held his gaze as she moved even closer, flirting outrageously with
his senses, her glossy red lips suddenly the most desirable things in the
entire world to a bewildered Jason.
"And do you know why we want you to be defiant darling?"
It was a question that demanded an answer Jason felt.
"No, not at all," he managed breathlessly, his penis looming larger
inside his frock.
"Because we like a little bit of spirit don't we ladies?" Again Jason
glanced at his wardens and the response was the same rhythmic, soothing
motion of satin gloves on his captive thighs.
"Because gradually, very slowly really, over a number of weeks, we are
going to crush that spirit. Bit by bit, morsel by morsel, just a teeny
weeny slice every day so that you won't even notice that it's gone. But
gone it will be, sweetheart. Deserted every sinew of your gorgeous baby
body.
"Because one day when you least expect it, you'll wake up and there won't
be hardly any of that feisty spirit left, that freewill that you so
cherish now, will have all but disappeared, quashed by high heels and the
power that we women, our taffeta, our girdles, our satin and nylons, hold
over little boys like you. Do you understand?"
Elsie smiled and teasingly removed one of her gloves, traced her lips
over Jason's, stroking his face with one gloved hand while brushing his
hair back and allowing her immaculately manicured fingers and nails to
run through his thick blond locks with the other.
"Then you see sweetie," Elsie continued staring deeply into his eyes.
"Such saucer eyes, are they not ladies?"
Moira and Brenda leant over and looked into Jason's eyes and cooed
concurrence in unison, without once letting up on the constant smoothing
of taffeta slip on nylon and satin on unprotected hands.
"Where was I? Oh yes, because then darling, we'll know that our work is
done. And we can all give ourselves a giant hug at a job well done, total
satisfaction."
Jason was now spellbound by the allure of polished red nails, satin
lipstick and the ceaseless delight of his satin-lined skirt pressing on
taffeta slip and sheer nylons.
"And then what?" Jason asked, trying to suppress, without success, a gulp
and more than a hint of fear and temerity in his voice.
"Why darling, when your liddle teeny weeny bit of spirit is so crushed
and weak, we don't want to completely stamp it out under our heels. Do we
ladies? No. Because what we do, we take that last semblance of what you
might call freewill, manhood even," she smiled pointedly at this point,
"and very, very carefully, carrying it in our fingers, we place it inside
one of my nylon stockings."
The image provoked his already erect penis to an even stiffer level, not
unnoticed by the three women who began smiling and smirking to one
another.
"And then?" Jason hardly dared to ask but felt compelled to do so.
"Then we lay that spirit flat on the reinforced heel and toe of that
stocking, just below the seam, and we take a nice shiny piece of satin
ribbon and tie a gorgeous satin bow at the ankle so that the liddle bit
of spirit can't get out. Poor little thing. And after that, we pick the
nylon up by the welt that normally attaches so tightly to our suspenders
with our painted fingernails and lay it on the satin lining of one of our
gorgeous satin pencil skirts.
"Won't that feel nice for the liddle spirit? Mmm ...well then, we zip the
skirt up and tie it at the hem and waist with some wide taffeta ribbon,
rich coral pink I think ladies don't you?"
Jason's erection was now out of control but none of his three guardians
felt obliged to offer assistance to relieve the stiffness.
"And we ladies have a special drawer, don't we girls? Satin-lined and
lockable and bursting with black satin skirts. And that's where we put
your little bit of tiny spirit, locked away and out of sight. At our beck
and call, totally in the dark but so snug and safe inside that nylon and
satin skirt. Every day, the poor little mite could think about trying to
escape, but then he'll lean back, feel the soft nylon caress all around
him, smell the sweet satin lining and its shimmering smoothness, enclosed
by so many other satin skirts, well, why should that little spirit bother
trying to get out? Mmm?"
Jason wanted so badly to escape and feel his own penis at that moment,
his hands strived again to break loose yet for all his yearning to be
free, Elsie's warm, hypnotic voice and the sensuous touch of satin gloves
on his flesh and frock were weakening his resolve.
Elsie, sensing her complete victory, brushed closer to her young cherub-
faced captive, butterfly kissing his lips and cheeks and eyelashes.
"But now and again, we might bring your little bit of spirit out for some
fresh air. Won't we girls? And on that day, we may allow that spirit to
see us dress up, in stockings, midnight black longline girdles and bras,
with satin straps and cups and metal suspenders. Do you think your little
spirit might like that?"
"What else will you all be wearing?" Jason stammered for no logical
reason, his mouth dry and regretting the question as he asked it as the
trio of ladies giggled daintily.
"Well that is a good question pet. But I think ivory taffeta calf-length
slips with delicate lace trims and black satin evening gowns, satin-lined
naturally, ladies?" They nodded smilingly in agreement.
"And black satin gloves and emerald-green satin opera coats. Just leaves
enough to see the satin skirts and seamed stockings swishing seductively
beneath. Of course some of the ladies might have a different colour
scheme in mind, but the foundation garments will be the same.
"And of course all this time that little spirit will have been basking on
my bed in the lining of one our taffeta frocks, still tied up in my nylon
but feeling the rustle of the taffeta lining at this back, squirming
around as if trying to rediscover that freedom, that freewill that he
long ago relinquished. And yet....how can he remember that? He'll just be
so happy, so blissfully content darling to be wrapped up in such gorgeous
feminine lingerie and skirts."
Jason felt numb now. He understood the meaning of Elsie's speech but was
powerless to argue otherwise.
"And then ladies, we'll just pop our little free spirit back in his
rightful place, zipped in his pencil skirt and locked away in his satin
sanctuary. Although, we may dab his nylon with a smidgen of our perfumes
and leave three deep lipstick kisses near the bottom of the seam,
tantalisingly out of reach but close enough to sniff their glorious aroma
through the sheer, red-thickened nylon. Wouldn't that be such an adorable
treat sweetheart? Aww, darling, look at you, dribbling everywhere
sweetheart."
And it was true, from his mouth to his penis, Jason was dribbling all
over. He had arrived here intent on escape, in the certain knowledge that
he had a fool-proof plan.
But he had been made to look stupid, weak and frail by a pair of middle-
aged women and a third, who had groomed him from an early age by all
accounts, was about to subjugate him to a life at which just two days ago
he would have laughed out-loud and dismissed as absurd.
Now it seemed inevitable. And the only people laughing were three ladies
in shiny satin coats, gloves and skirts who appeared to know something he
did not. Increasingly they also appeared more and more alluring, sexy but
so superior and utterly in control of his destiny.
For the first time a surge of genuine fear ran through Jason's veins. He
wanted so much to cling to the life these women were now trying to
obliterate. He wanted so much to be back at his flat listening to music
and having a beer with a few mates.
And yet Elsie and her accomplices seemed to understand that as they
surveyed their prey. Because that's what he was. He had been trapped,
captured, subdued and then imprisoned in a delicious cage of satin, nylon
and taffeta underpinned and cemented by unforgiving foundation garments.
He knew they could see his longing to be free. His fear stemmed from the
dispassionate looks on their faces and the relentless touchy-feely nature
of their satin-gloved hands caressing his vulnerable body.
Elsie began opened a bedside drawer and cupped a tanned nylon in the palm
of her hand. She lifted it delicately between her forefingers and thumbs
towards Jason's face, now hot and flushed, his heart hammering and pulses
racing with a deeply erotic satisfaction. She watched him twitching
slightly, his eyes blinking while her gaze never wavered. Jason felt the
nylon smoothed against his cheeks, Elsie's lips sweetly kissing him
through the flimsy, sheer material. His two other captors were making
movements with both their hands towards his frock and slip where the
tautness of his suspender clips fastened to 12-denier nylons brought its
own delicious ecstasy, heightened to bursting levels as the ladies
squeezed and stroked the suspender bumps stocking welts buried beneath
taffeta satin.
They had trapped their prize, Jason the little wild beast.
Now they were going to tame him. And he would become their doting, docile
and most obedient pet.
Gert
- 19.03.2022
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