Chapter 4, Scene 2: "The Errand"

The bathroom door clicked shut behind her, followed by the distant hiss of the rainfall shower. Caitlin's voice echoed faintly down the hallway, singing, carefree, already prepping for her gym session with Mia.

Devon lay sprawled on the bed, still spent from the morning, the faintest ache still lingering in his thighs. The memory of Caitlin grinding against him in her sheer, glossy black bodystocking, covered in his release, still clung to his mind, and his senses. She hadn't let him shower yet. She hadn't allowed it.

Ten minutes later, she emerged from the en suite, towel-drying her hair, wearing nothing but a sports bra, leggings, and that teasing little smirk that said "I'm not finished with you."

"Going to Mia's," she said casually, tying her hoodie around her waist. "Try not to touch yourself while I'm gone."

He swallowed. "I, won't."

She kissed him lightly, then whispered, "Don't nap. I've got a little task for you."

The front door closed. The house went quiet.

Then his phone buzzed.

Caitlin: "Get up. Time to be useful."

Caitlin: "Shower. Use my body wash again. I want to smell you later."

Caitlin: "Then, I want you to wear the same bodystocking I wore this morning. Yes, the one still damp. With your mess on it."

Devon blinked at the phone, heart pounding.

Caitlin: "Jeans. Jumper. No socks."

Caitlin: "You're going to Oxford Street. Wolford boutique. Ask for the all Neon 40s shades. Two pairs of each."

Caitlin: "Ask for stockings too, She'll mention a suspender belt. Say, 'I don't know my size.' Let's see if she figures out it's for you. 😘"

The shower was quick but obedient. He scrubbed every inch of himself with her floral body wash, until her scent clung to his skin like memory. When he emerged, he walked across the bedroom, still towelled, to where the bodystocking lay in a crumpled heap on the chair.

He lifted it slowly.

It was still warm in some places. Slick in others. The gloss shimmered under the light, and his dried release was faintly visible across the crotch and thighs.

He stepped into it anyway.

The high-gloss material sucked to his skin immediately, clinging like a second coat of desire. Tight, sheer, and unmistakably hers. He layered on fitted jeans and a charcoal jumper, then slid into his loafers barefoot.

The fabric still rubbed at his nipples through the jumper.

His cock was already half hard.

The Wolford boutique was quiet again, white, glassy, expensive. The music was soft, feminine jazz. Devon stepped inside,

heart racing, ankles bare.

Behind the counter stood the same dark-haired assistant from last time, her lips parting into a subtle, knowing smile.

"Good afternoon," she said warmly. "Back already?"

"Yes," he managed. "My wife sent me. Again."

"I assumed."

He handed her a folded note, Caitlin's list.

"She has taste," the assistant said, scanning it. "Neon 40s, two of each in every shade. And two pairs each of all of our stocking colours." Her brow lifted playfully. "That's quite the haul."

"She's… thorough."

The assistant gestured for him to follow her to the display.

"These are the Neon 40s: Honey, Admiral, Gobi, and Makeup. All in Medium?"

Devon nodded. "Yes. Medium."

She started gathering boxes, quick and precise.

Another assistant appeared, a redhead in her twenties, floral blouse, clipboard in hand. She smiled brightly.

"Would you like some help with the stockings? We can show you the full colour range."

"Please," the first assistant said, handing her the note. "He's buying in volume."

The second girl led Devon to a wall of sleek black drawers and began pulling out sheer lace-tops in elegant shades.

"These are our current bestsellers," she said. "Champagne, Graphite, Midnight Blue, and Rosewood."

"I'll take two of each."

She packed them quickly, then paused. "You'll need a suspender belt for these."

Devon took a breath. "I… don't know my size."

A silence. Both women looked at him. Then the brunette smiled.

"Would you like us to measure you?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

She picked up a measuring tape from the counter. "Waist first, if you don't mind?"

He raised his jumper slightly.

As she measured him, her fingers brushed the edge of his jeans, and stopped. She glanced down.

Just above the waistband, a band of glossy black nylon shimmered faintly in the light.

Her eyes flicked to his ankles. Bare. And just barely, the sheen again, peeking out from under the hem.

She smiled.

"I thought I recognised the finish," she said softly. "You're wearing a bodystocking, aren't you?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Beautiful choice."

The redhead giggled and stepped closer. "May I?"

He nodded helplessly.

She gently touched his ankle, fingers brushing the glossy fabric. "Very shiny," she said with approval. "Is this your wife's doing?"

He nodded again.

"Lovely," she said. "Let's get you the right belt."

They returned with three options, classic black satin, blush pink, and a deep plum lace.

"Which feels most like you?" the brunette asked, handing him the delicate straps.

Devon ran his fingers over the pink one, then the plum.

"I think… i like them all," he said, choosing all Three.

"Excellent choice," the redhead said, boxing them up. "You'll feel incredible."

His phone buzzed again.

Caitlin.

He answered quickly. "I'm here."

Her voice purred through the speaker. "Put me on. Now."

He tapped speaker. The assistants didn't flinch.

"Hello, loves," Caitlin said brightly. "How's my boy doing?"

The brunette grinned. "Very well. He followed your list perfectly. We measured him, too."

"And?" Caitlin asked.

"Size Medium. He was very well behaved."

Caitlin laughed. "I'll be sure to reward him later. You've both been wonderful."

The brunette gave Devon a wink. "Come back anytime. We love couples with… adventurous wardrobes."

Chapter 4, Scene 3: "Girl Talk"

Devon stepped inside and closed the townhouse door behind him with care, the soft thud of it echoing in the stillness of the hallway. The glossy Wolford shopping bags in his hands swayed gently with each step, their elegant black lettering unmistakable.

His body was still wrapped in Caitlin's sheer, glossy bodystocking, clinging to him beneath his jumper and jeans. Her scent clung to his skin, and his ankles remained bare, just as she'd ordered. His heart was still pounding from the boutique, from the measuring, from the phone call. From being seen.

He kicked off his loafers and moved quietly toward the kitchen.

And stopped dead in the doorway.

Mia was perched casually at the island bar, coffee mug in hand, wearing black leggings and a cropped gym hoodie that showed off a tight waist and plenty of toned stomach. Her hair was up, her eyeliner perfect even post-workout.

She raised her eyebrows the second she saw him, and her eyes dropped straight to the shopping bags.

"Well, well," she said, sipping her coffee. "Someone's been busy."

Before Devon could answer, Caitlin walked in behind him, She was still in her sports bra and leggings, a little flushed from the gym, utterly radiant.

"Oh, good, you're back," she said, planting a kiss on Devon's cheek. "Mia dropped by for coffee. I was just telling her about your little adventure."

Mia turned back to him, smirking. "Let me guess. Wolford?"

Devon flushed, nodding silently.

Caitlin took the bags from his hands and placed them on the counter.

"He's been such a good errand boy," she said breezily. "Picked up all the Neon 40s shades, two pairs of each. And eight pairs of stockings, champagne, rosewood, graphite… what else, babe?"

"Midnight blue," he muttered, eyes low.

Mia's smirk widened.

"Sounds expensive," she said.

"Oh, it was," Caitlin replied, opening one of the bags and peeking in. "But worth every penny. He even got fitted for some suspender belts."

Mia gave a low whistle. "Wow. You really have him wrapped around your… legs."

Caitlin laughed. "Oh, you should've heard the sales assistants. They were so helpful. One of them spotted his bodystocking the moment she knelt down to measure him. They both noticed the shine at his ankles and waist."

Devon stood awkwardly by the counter, burning with humiliation and arousal.

Mia turned back to him, head tilted.

"So," she said. "Was it thrilling? Being out in public like that, in her lingerie?"

He swallowed. "Yes."

She nodded slowly, as if she were a scientist gathering data. "Brave boy."

The two women exchanged a look. Not cruel, just amused, intrigued, quietly pleased with what they were building together.

Caitlin pulled out the suspender belt and held it up to Mia. "Isn't it cute?"

"Oh, that's adorable," Mia said, reaching over to feel the fabric. "Very 'good-girl' energy. Soft, but slutty."

Caitlin laughed. "Exactly."

Devon said nothing, letting their words wash over him, feeling his role shrink deliciously beneath their easy, feminine dominance.

Caitlin set the belt down and turned to him.

"You did well today, baby. You followed every instruction. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," he said softly.

Mia sipped her coffee again, eyes still on him.

"So… when do I get to see him in it?"

Caitlin didn't blink. "Soon."

The air between them shimmered with potential.

Chapter 4, Scene 4: "Planning the Wardrobe"

The kitchen was filled with soft afternoon light, filtered through gauzy blinds. Mia had taken her place back at the island, legs crossed under her stool, sipping another coffee. Caitlin had opened her laptop at the far end of the breakfast bar, the glossy Wolford bags still resting on the counter nearby like trophies.

Devon stood awkwardly, uncertain whether to excuse himself or hover. He chose the latter, remaining close, quiet, attentive, half-hard.

Caitlin tapped a few keys, then turned the screen toward Mia. "So, I was thinking… since he has the basics now, tights, stockings, his first suspender belt, we should start building a proper collection."

Mia leaned in, eyes sparkling. "Oh, absolutely. He'll need some seamless bodysuits, cute little camisoles, maybe some satin shorts or tap pants to wear under his jeans…"

Caitlin nodded, scrolling through an elegant lingerie boutique. "And high-gloss seamless panties. Something that grips just right."

Devon shifted slightly, his cock twitching inside the sticky, used bodystocking.

"He also needs somewhere to put all of this," Caitlin mused, glancing toward the hallway. "I think it's time we moved things around in the wardrobe."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "You're giving him closet space?"

"Not giving," Caitlin corrected. "Allocating. Just enough to make room for what I'll be buying. The hosiery drawer's already full, I'll need a whole separate one for his things."

Mia smirked. "His things," she echoed. "That's cute."

Devon dared to speak. "You're… really going to move things around?"

Caitlin turned to him. "Of course, baby. You've got proper pieces now. We can't have them stuffed in some old gym bag like a dirty secret. They need to be cared for. Hung properly. Folded. Admired."

Mia giggled. "We should label them too. Or maybe colour-code the lingerie by mood."

"Ooh, yes," Caitlin said, clearly intrigued. "Glossy blacks for nights in. Nude and neutral tones for public errands. And once he's ready… we'll do something daring."

"No makeup yet though," Mia said, as if they were curating a timeline. "Let him get used to how lingerie changes how he feels first. Make it the new normal."

Caitlin nodded. "Exactly. One step at a time."

The laptop clicked away as they added item after item to the basket: a soft lilac mesh bralette, seamless Wolford underwear in shimmer pink and matte beige, a champagne silk chemise, and a set of sheer ankle socks with tiny embroidered bows.

Devon stood still, helpless, eyes darting between them and the screen.

When they paused to review their choices, Caitlin leaned back, pleased.

"He'll need to model everything when it arrives," she said, half to herself.

Mia didn't miss a beat.

"Can I be here for that?"

Caitlin grinned. "You'd better be."

Mia raised her coffee in a mock toast. "To the next delivery."

Devon exhaled slowly, flooded with dread and desire in equal measure.

His life, once entirely his own, now lived by Caitlin's whim, and, increasingly, by the amused gaze of her closest friend.

And it thrilled him no end.

Chapter 5: Routine Elegance

Six weeks had passed, and the rhythm of their home had changed entirely.

What began as play had evolved into quiet ritual, unspoken rules woven into everyday life. Caitlin's touch was everywhere now, not just in the scent of her body wash clinging to the towels, but in the wardrobe rail newly installed beside the dressing room. Satin hangers. Glossy labels. Folded silks and nylons stacked in colour-coded drawers.

Devon's collection.

He woke to sunlight cutting through the curtains, casting stripes across the bed. His legs were curled under soft ivory hold-ups. His chest was wrapped in a pale lilac bodysuit, mesh, snug, high-cut at the hips. Caitlin had chosen it for "midweek wear," he remembered. Delicate. Feminine. Unapologetically his.

He stirred, alone in bed. The sound of quiet laughter floated up from downstairs.

Mia.

She'd been living with them for the past several weeks temporarily, Caitlin had said, though no one had set a date. She came with coffee in the mornings and folded herself into their lives like she'd always belonged.

Devon stretched and rolled to his side, the hold-ups brushing against the sheets with a whisper.

There was a note on the bedside table.

Inspection at 8:45. Shower. Do not remove your bodysuit.- C

He glanced at the clock. 8:14.

His heart began to race, not with panic, but with the strange flutter of anticipation. Of being seen. Of pleasing.

He moved quickly. Showered, toweled off, slipped the bodysuit back on as instructed. The high-cut back clung to his skin, the straps pulling gently at his shoulders. The hold-ups still held firmly. A shimmer still lingered on the lace tops from the lotion Caitlin had rubbed into his legs two nights ago.

He padded barefoot to the kitchen.

They were both seated at the island.

Caitlin, in a soft robe and sheer black tights, legs crossed, hair wrapped in a towel. Mia beside her in a matching dressing gown, legs bare, sipping coffee like she owned the morning.

Caitlin looked up first.

"Right on time," she said, setting her mug down.

Mia smirked. "He's getting better."

Devon stood quietly, waiting.

Caitlin circled him slowly, her eyes on the smooth lines of the bodysuit.

She crouched and checked the tops of his thighs, her fingers lightly brushing the lace. "Still holding perfectly. And this colour… it suits your skin so well."

Mia leaned in. "Turn around for me, would you?"

Devon obeyed.

Caitlin laughed gently. "Mia's been enjoying the view this week."

"I can't help it," Mia said, eyes trailing his curves. "He's getting prettier every day."

Caitlin stood behind him, tracing her fingernail lightly down the centre of his back.

"We're going to add more this week," she murmured. "You've earned it."

Devon swallowed. "More what?"

Caitlin kissed his shoulder through the fabric. "More you silly."

Chapter 5 - Scene 2: "Slippery Temptations"

The doorbell rang mid-morning.

Devon, still in his lilac bodysuit and stockings, was handed a large, flat parcel by the delivery driver. Caitlin met him at the door, took the package with a delighted grin, and carried it straight to the kitchen where Mia was already sipping her second coffee.

"Finally," Caitlin said, setting the box down. "I've been waiting all week for these."

Mia leaned forward eagerly, her robe falling just enough to reveal the top of her thigh. "Is this the delivery?"

Caitlin slit the tape open and folded back the lid with a flourish.

Inside, neatly wrapped in tissue and ribbon, were five sheer, glossy body stockings. All open crotch. All high gloss. Each folded with the care of couture lingerie.

Caitlin pulled them out one by one like precious artefacts.

"Jet black," she said, holding it up. "Classic. Aggressive."

Mia whistled softly. "That's going to look obscene on you."

"Snow white," Caitlin continued, holding up the second. "This one's yours."

Mia's eyes lit up. "Oh, I love it."

"Then we have midnight navy, wine red, and… ooh." She lifted the last one, a deep, glowing bronze. "This one's for him."

They both looked up at Devon, who stood in the doorway, watching them in silence.

Caitlin smiled, folding the bronze piece back into its tissue. "But not just yet."

Mia stretched. "Speaking of bagels?"

"Oh right," Caitlin said breezily. "Would you be a darling and run out for us?" she asked Devon. "Same place. Sesame for me. Mia?"

"Poppyseed."

Devon nodded, silently tucking his growing arousal away behind obedience.

When he returned thirty minutes later, a note was waiting on the kitchen counter, handwritten in Caitlin's looping script.

"Set the food down. Quietly. Then go into Mia's room and strip. There's a body stocking on her bed,the bronze one. Put it on. When you're ready, knock on our bedroom door and wait."

"Enter when you're told."

"And don't speak unless we ask you a question."

"Love,

C x"

Devon's breath caught. His hands trembled slightly as he set the bagels on the table and crept upstairs.

Mia's door was ajar.

Inside, her bed was neatly made, the bronze body stocking laid across the sheets like a waiting lover. It shimmered even in the dim light, sheer and delicate but radiant, almost metallic in its sheen.

He undressed slowly. Slid his legs into the garment. Pulled it over his hips, his stomach, his chest. It clung to him with a sensual second-skin grip, hugging every curve, lifting every nerve into awareness. He felt exposed, yet beautiful.

And hard.

He padded down the hall barefoot, the nylon whispering with every step.

Caitlin's bedroom door was shut.

He knocked once.

There was silence. Then Caitlin's voice, low and smooth:

"Come in."

He pushed the door open.

They were on the bed.

Caitlin in jet black. Mia in pearl white.

Two bodies, entwined like silk serpents, wrapped around each other in slow, intimate motion. Caitlin's thigh slid between Mia's. Their lips were locked, hands exploring, the glossy fabric glistening with friction and desire.

Devon stood frozen, heart pounding, unable to look away.

They didn't turn to him immediately.

They kissed again, long, wet, slow.

Then Caitlin looked over her shoulder and smiled.

"Well?" she said. "Come closer."

Mia's voice followed, soft and sweet. "You're not just going to stand there, are you?"

He stepped forward slowly, his body trembling in the shimmering bronze.

Caitlin reached for him. "Let us feel how soft you are."

And then all three were tangled, black, white, and bronze, a slick, sliding knot of kisses, limbs, and whispered names.

Chapter 5 - Scene 3: "Three Shades of Obedience"

Devon stepped forward slowly, every inch of his body tingling beneath the bronze sheer bodystocking. The open crotch left little to the imagination, and the material clung to his skin like warm honey, glossy and tight, glinting as he moved.

Caitlin and Mia lay entwined on the bed, their black and white body stockings catching the amber glow of the bedside lamps like liquid obsidian and pearl. The jet-black mesh hugged every curve of Caitlin's olive skin, while the stark white clung to Mia's pale frame like morning frost. Their limbs braided together, Caitlin's right thigh wedged between Mia's legs, Mia's arm looped possessively around Caitlin's waist, fingers splayed across her lower back.

Neither of them rushed.

They kissed again, deeply, hungrily, with the unhurried confidence of predators. Caitlin's glossy thigh slid upward, the nylon making a soft hiss against Mia's dampening center. Their breasts pressed together beneath the delicate mesh, nipples visibly hardened, straining against the fabric. Mia's fingers traced the dip of Caitlin's spine, then curved around to cup her breast through the slick material, thumb circling lazily over the taut peak. Caitlin responded by sliding her palm down Mia's stomach, nails lightly scratching over the taut nylon until Mia arched against her touch, both women savoring the electric friction of synthetic silk against heated skin.

Then Caitlin looked up.

"Come here, love," she said softly. "Let us see you."

Devon approached the bed, cheeks flushed, heart pounding.

Mia sat up, her white-clad legs folding beneath her. She ran her fingers lightly up Devon's thighs. "He's stunning in this," she said, glancing at Caitlin. "This colour… it's almost golden on him."

"It's perfect," Caitlin agreed, rising to her knees. She trailed a single finger from his collarbone down the centre of his chest, feeling the slick fabric shift with each breath he took. "Turn around for us."

He did. Slowly.

Mia's hand glided over his hips from behind, drawing him gently backward onto the bed nestled between them. The glossy sheets beneath added a tantalizing friction, silk on silk.

They savored every moment.

Caitlin straddled his thighs, her palms caressing his chest, her covered breasts pressing intimately against him. Her dark eyes remained locked on his. "You love how this feels, don't you?"

He nodded. "So much."

Mia leaned in, her lips brushing his shoulder, then trailing lower, kissing along the seam of his side. "You're absolutely soaked in anticipation," she whispered.

Devon whimpered under their touch. Each subtle movement brought new sensations, Caitlin's black mesh dragging across his stomach, Mia's white thighs sliding alongside his own. They kissed his neck, his lips, each other, sharing him like a cherished prize.

"You're ours tonight," Caitlin whispered, rolling her hips gently. "No rush. Just this."

Mia's fingers discovered his arousal, solid, needy, clearly outlined through the sheer fabric. She wrapped her hand around him, slow and slick.

Caitlin kissed him as Mia stroked.

And when Devon climaxed, gasping and helpless, it was with both women enveloping him, bodies glistening and glossy, their thighs sticky with sweat and friction, their mouths smiling against his skin.

His release arced onto Caitlin's belly, streaking the dark mesh with glistening heat.

He moaned into her mouth, breathless.

They lingered in the moment.

Caitlin traced her fingers through his release, spreading it over the fabric. "You always make such a beautiful mess," she murmured.

Mia lay beside him, her hand still caressing his inner thigh. "I hope you're ready," she whispered, licking his neck. "Because I think this is just the beginning of something very, very fun."

Chapter 5 - Scene 3 (Continued): "Serving in Silk"

Devon lay between them, body still trembling in the aftermath, the glossy bronze stocking clinging to every contour of his spent form. His breathing was shallow, the taste of Caitlin's mouth still lingering on his lips, his cock twitching faintly against the cooling mess he'd spilled over her.

But the women weren't done.

Caitlin leaned in, brushing his hair from his forehead. "That was for you, baby," she murmured. "Now it's our turn."

Mia shifted beside him, her hand sliding down between Caitlin's legs, rubbing gently. "Her pussy's soaked," she said with a grin. "Just like mine."

Devon's head turned slowly, his gaze settling on the glistening patch between Caitlin's thighs, nice and wet. He moved without needing to be told, lifting himself onto his elbows and crawling toward her hips, cock already hardening again, every movement slow and reverent.

Caitlin lay back, spreading her legs with a soft sigh. "You know what to do."

He kissed her cunt first, savoring the friction, the heat, the tangy wetness already bleeding through. His tongue moved slowly, deliberately, tracing the slick slit up to her clit and back down, soaking the mesh until it clung like a second skin.

Caitlin's moan was low and pleased. Her hips lifted against his mouth, chasing each stroke. "God, you've gotten so good at eating pussy," she breathed. "All those nights practicing…"

Beside them, Mia shifted closer, her own white-clad thighs rubbing together in need. She leaned over Caitlin, kissing her deeply, moaning into her mouth as Devon lapped hungrily below.

When Caitlin finally came, hips rolling, thighs clenching around his face, her cries swallowed into Mia's kiss, she reached down and tangled her fingers in Devon's hair, holding him there, grinding her wet cunt softly against his lips.

Only when she sighed and lay back, thoroughly satisfied, did she finally pull him up beside her.

Mia smirked. "My turn?"

Caitlin nodded. "Absolutely."

Devon didn't hesitate.

He moved toward Mia, who lay back on the pillows, spreading her legs without shame, her white body stocking sheer and soaked. The open crotch framed her swollen, glistening labia perfectly, pink and inviting against the stark white mesh. He settled between her thighs, inhaling her musky scent, mouth already descending.

Mia gasped the moment his tongue parted her slick folds. "Fuck, he's eager."

"Always is," Caitlin murmured, curling up beside her, one hand lazily rolling Mia's hardened nipple between thumb and forefinger through the white mesh. "And we've barely scratched the surface of what he can do."

Devon moaned into Mia's cunt, his tongue circling her throbbing clit before plunging inside her, tasting her wetness as it coated his chin. He sucked the sensitive bud between his lips, flicking rapidly with the tip of his tongue until her hips began to rise off the bed, until her hands gripped the sheets, until the tension in her thighs turned sharp and trembling.

She came hard against his mouth, her pussy pulsing and clenching, crying out openly, legs wrapping around his shoulders as he continued lapping at her dripping entrance.

Only then did Caitlin pull him back, both of them glistening with sweat and Mia's arousal, tangled in slick nylon and soft moans.

All three collapsed into the pillows, skin flushed and satisfied.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Mia turned to Caitlin, still panting. "I am not moving out anytime soon."

Caitlin laughed softly. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Devon lay between them, used, kissed, and utterly content.

Wrapped in bronze.

Owned in black and white.

The room was warm, soaked in the heady scent of sweat, silk, and sex. Devon lay sprawled between the women, still wrapped in his shimmering bronze bodystocking, his breath slowing, heart pounding in his ears.

Mia traced a lazy fingertip along his chest. Caitlin, still pressed to his side, kissed his temple.

"You did beautifully," Caitlin whispered.

Devon smiled faintly, floating.

Caitlin shifted, her hand gliding down to grasp his hips, fingers tracing the sticky root of his cock. He pulsed under her touch, hypersensitive but eager.

"Not done yet," she murmured, her voice a sultry command.

Devon opened his eyes, his breath already quickening.

Caitlin turned her gaze to Mia, who was now sprawled on her back, legs spread wide, her body stocking clinging to every curve, still damp with sweat and arousal.

"Fuck her," Caitlin demanded, her voice low and husky. "Do it now."

Devon's breath hitched, his chest heaving as Caitlin's fingers wrapped around his cock, coaxing it back to full hardness, guiding him towards Mia. "You're still ready," she purred, "And look at her, she's more than ready for you."

Mia said nothing, just let her legs fall open even wider, her pussy glistening and exposed through the open crotch of her sheer nylon bodystocking. The wetness on her thighs gleamed, every movement a silent, desperate plea.

Devon positioned himself between her thighs, his cock already throbbing and eager in Caitlin's grip.

"You want this, don't you?" Caitlin asked Mia, her hand sliding up Mia's inner thigh, making her shiver.

Mia bit her lip, nodding. "Yes, please," she begged, her voice a choked whisper.

Caitlin leaned down, her tongue finding Mia's clit just as Devon pressed his cock against her slick entrance. Mia arched up, crying out as Caitlin's tongue and Devon's cock began to work in tandem.

Devon groaned as he sank deeper, the sensation of Mia's tight, wet heat enveloping him almost too much to bear. The sight of his cock disappearing into her, the feel of the nylon wrapping around their limbs, it was sheer, raw ecstasy.

Caitlin never stopped licking Mia's clit, her tongue relentless even as Mia's moans grew louder, her body writhing between the dual pleasures.

"Fuck, I'm coming," Mia gasped out, her body tensing and shaking. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her pussy clamping down on Devon's cock, pulling him deeper, pushing him to the brink.

Caitlin looked up, her eyes dark with lust. "Come inside her," she demanded, her voice a low growl. "Fill her up."

Devon let out a guttural moan, his body tensing as he came hard, his cock pulsing, his hot release pouring into Mia. He collapsed forward, his hips jerking as he rode out his climax, spending every last drop inside her.

They stayed there a moment, trembling and gasping.

Then Caitlin, still between Mia's legs, moved up slowly. Her fingers spread Mia's swollen, glistening labia apart, and she leaned in, her tongue flattening as she lapped at the creamy white cum dripping from Mia's reddened entrance. She moaned at the salty-sweet taste of Devon's release mixed with Mia's juices.

Mia shuddered, her clit visibly throbbing with over stimulation. Devon watched, cock twitching despite being spent, as Caitlin's pink tongue darted inside Mia's hole, scooping out the thick white fluid that oozed down toward the sheets.

When she finally rose, her chin slick and glossy with their combined wetness, she kissed Mia full on the lips, sharing the taste, then leaned across and pushed her cum-coated tongue deep into Devon's mouth.

"That," she whispered, a pearly drop still clinging to her bottom lip, "was perfect."

Chapter 5 - Scene 4: "Everything We Want"

They lay in tangled silk and sweat, the scent of sex still clinging to the sheets. Bodies wrapped in sheer mesh, limbs layered over each other, they looked like some erotic painting come to life, black, white, and bronze shimmering under the soft light filtering in from the window.

Devon lay between them, head resting on Caitlin's stomach, one of Mia's legs curled lazily over his own. No one spoke for a while. The weight of what had just happened, of what they'd shared, didn't feel heavy. It felt right.

Caitlin gently stroked his hair.

Mia sipped from a glass of water, her voice soft and amused. "So… this is us now?"

Caitlin smiled. "It's always been us. We just didn't know it yet."

Devon looked up at her. "You're both… incredible."

She cupped his chin, tilted it toward her. "You're part of this too, baby. You belong here. With us. Wearing what we choose. Pleasing how we say."

Mia rolled onto her side, propped on one elbow. "You really are made for this," she said, her eyes wandering slowly down Devon's body. "So soft. So obedient. And the way you react when we touch you…"

"I've never felt anything like this," he admitted, his voice low. "Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Caitlin leaned in and kissed him, long and slow. "Good. Because we're not slowing down."

Mia laughed softly, running her fingers between Caitlin's thighs. "Speaking of not slowing down…"

Caitlin arched her back slightly. "Already?"

"I didn't get to taste you yet," Mia murmured. "Not properly."

Devon moved aside, watching as Mia shifted down the bed and settled between Caitlin's thighs, her white body stocking still clinging damply to her curves. She kissed the inside of Caitlin's thigh, just above the seam of the open crotch, then ran her tongue slowly up the length of her.

Caitlin gasped, hips lifting. "Oh, fuck…"

Devon watched, entranced, as Mia worked her over with expert patience, slow, swirling licks that built into firmer strokes. Caitlin's hands gripped the sheets, her breath quickening with each pass of Mia's tongue.

"Keep watching," Caitlin said to Devon, her voice shaking. "I want you to see what a good girl she is."

Mia looked up briefly, her mouth slick, eyes glinting with mischief. "I want him to taste what I do."

Caitlin's climax came quickly, powerfully, her legs clenching around Mia's shoulders as she cried out, her back arched high off the bed.

Mia didn't stop. She slowed her pace but continued licking softly, collecting every drop, until Caitlin was twitching and

breathless.

Then she crawled back up, straddling Devon's chest slightly, and leaned in to kiss him.

He hesitated just a second.

"Open," Mia whispered, her fingers tilting his chin.

And he did.

She kissed him deeply, feeding him the taste of Caitlin's orgasm, her tongue sliding into his mouth, wet and insistent.

Caitlin watched, panting, eyes dark with satisfaction. "Good boy," she whispered. "We share everything now."

When Mia pulled back, Devon looked stunned, raw, turned on, dizzy with submission.

Caitlin curled against him, stroking his stomach through the sheer bronze. "This isn't just play anymore," she said. "This is ours. Our life. And it's going to get better and better."

"Morning Routines"

The light filtering through the sheer curtains had shifted to warm gold by the time Devon stirred again.

He stirred from his dreams, the hazy memories of the night before clinging to his mind like the bronze bodystocking that encased his body. His limbs throbbed with a satisfying ache, the kind that only came from intense, prolonged use. The sheer nylon clung to his skin, wrinkled and sticky in places, reeking of sex and sweat.

But it was the hands that truly roused him, one pair circling his chest, pinching his nipples through the fabric, another tracing the line of his inner thigh, inches away from his already stirring cock.

He looked down to see Caitlin on his left, her eyes smoldering with lust. Mia was on his right, her fingers deftly outlining

the growing bulge between his legs.

"Morning, sexy," Caitlin murmured, her lips grazing his collarbone, sending shivers down his spine.

"You fucking wrecked yourself last night," Mia said, grinning wickedly. "And yet, here you are, ready to go again."

Devon exhaled, a shaky, desperate sound. "I can't control it…"

"Perfect," Caitlin replied, her tongue flicking out to taste his jaw. "We don't want you to."

Their hands explored him more insistently now, squeezing, stroking, teasing through the bronze mesh, urging his cock to full hardness. He groaned, his hips jerking upward, seeking more friction.

Mia dipped her head, her mouth finding his cock against the nylon, her breath hot and damp. Caitlin cupped his balls, her other hand twisting a nipple, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to his groin.

It was sensory overload.

Too fucking much.

Not fucking enough.

Within moments, his hips were thrusting, his eyes wild and begging.

"Caitlin, "

"Let go," she commanded, her hand working him faster. "Cum for us. Now."

And he did.

Grunting, convulsing, he emptied himself into the sticky bronze sheath, Mia's mouth and Caitlin's hands drawing out every last drop of his release.

He fell back onto the pillows, chest heaving, body trembling. But the girls weren't done.

They exchanged a heated look, a silent agreement passing between them.

"Now," Caitlin growled, rolling onto her back, her legs spreading wide. "It's our turn."

Mia moved down the bed, her mouth glistening with his cum, and buried her face between Caitlin's thighs. Caitlin's black bodystocking was drenched, her pussy lips swollen and visible.

"Stroke yourself," Caitlin ordered Devon, her voice hoarse with desire. "Watch us, and when we come, you're going to explode all over our tits."

Devon sat up, his cock already rock hard again. He wrapped his hand around himself, stroking slowly through the come-soaked mesh as he watched Mia feast on Caitlin.

Caitlin's fingers gripped Mia's hair, her hips bucking, her moans filling the room. The sight of Mia's tongue lapping at Caitlin's clit, her fingers fucking herself through her white bodystocking, sent waves of lust crashing through Devon.

The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sound of wet nylon on nylon, the gasps and groans of impending orgasm.

Caitlin came first, her body thrashing, her cry primal, her thighs locking around Mia's head. Mia followed soon after, her fingers buried deep inside herself, her mouth still working Caitlin's pussy.

"Now," Caitlin panted, beckoning Devon closer. "Come on us."

He knelt above them, his hand flying over his cock, the sight of their glistening, writhing bodies pushing him over the edge. With a roar, he came, thick ropes of hot come landing on their tits and stomachs, streaking across the mesh of their bodystockings.

Caitlin looked down at the mess, then back up at Devon, a dark, proud smile on her lips.

"Good boy," she praised. "Now lick us clean."

Chapter 6: Breaking Them In

The boutique was nestled just off Bond Street, all mirrors, marble floors, and the soft scent of leather. Gentle lighting cast a warm glow across rows of gleaming stilettos, strappy sandals, glossy pumps, and elegant low heels. The music was soft and stylish, the kind of instrumental lounge that made you feel like you belonged to a private club.

Caitlin and Mia walked ahead of Devon, arms linked, both in tights and short skirts that flashed thigh with each step. Their laughter echoed gently as they browsed, trying on heels, admiring slingbacks, comparing patent finishes to suede.

Devon lingered close behind, his jeans hiding the pair of shimmering Wolford Neon 40s he wore beneath. His ankles were bare, as always, per Caitlin's standing rule.

"You're too quiet," Mia said suddenly, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "Nervous?"

Caitlin turned, holding up a pair of sleek black Mary Janes with a modest block heel. "Don't be. Today's your big step, remember?"

Devon flushed. "I just… don't want to make a scene."

"Oh, sweetheart," Caitlin said, handing him the shoes. "You'll be making scenes in heels everywhere you go soon."

Mia snapped her fingers, signaling a nearby sales associate, a stylish woman in her late twenties with short platinum hair and Crimson lipstick that matched her heels. Her name tag read Bea.

"Need a size check?" Bea asked brightly.

"For him," Caitlin said, all charm. "He's a little new to heels, but he's doing so well."

Bea raised a brow and smiled. "Oh? First time?"

Devon looked at the floor.

Bea crouched beside him, tapping his ankle lightly. "Feet up, darling. Let's have a look."

He obeyed, lifting one foot slowly. Bea removed his shoe.

And there it was, the gleam of sheer glossy tights stretching over his foot, toes perfectly outlined beneath the reinforced shimmer of Wolford fabric.

"Oh my," Bea said, eyes twinkling. "Now that's commitment."

"He's been wearing every day," Caitlin said proudly.

"Multiple pairs," Mia added, holding up a box of wine-red kitten heels. "We're building up slowly."

Bea gently removed Devon's other shoe and slipped a nylon foot into a size 7 heel, then stood back to admire.

"You've small feet luckily, stand up for me."

Devon did, shaky at first. The slight lift of the heel changed his posture immediately, calves engaging, back straightening, hips subtly shifting forward.

"Oh wow," Caitlin murmured, watching him. "You look so cute."

Mia circled him slowly. "That's a lovely arch. And those tights… delicious."

Bea smiled. "You're surprisingly steady for a beginner."

"He's been walking in softer pairs at home," Caitlin said. "It's time we get him into something with more structure."

Bea nodded. "Let's work up. Maybe start with a few low-blocks, some modest kitten heels, and one wild card for weekends."

"We like wild cards," Mia grinned.

Bea measured Devon properly, guiding him onto the little platform near the mirror.

"Good arch. Narrow heel. You'll look fantastic in strappy styles once you're confident."

Devon flushed again. "Thanks…"

Caitlin slipped an arm around his waist. "You're going to wear them every evening from now on, okay? Around the house. Just to get used to the motion."

"Every day," Mia echoed, holding up a nude patent pair. "We'll have you floating by next month."

Bea returned with several boxes. "Try these, 3inch, 4inch, and one 5inch. I want to see how your ankles hold."

Devon nodded and began trying them on. The girls cooed and commented at each change, praising his legs, his balance, his shape in tights and heels.

It was mortifying.

And completely addictive.

By the time they checked out, Devon carried two bags of his own, a soft grey pair, the wine-reds Mia loved, and a sultry black patent pair with ankle straps that Caitlin had whispered he'd wear with just tights.

"Walk of shame never looked so chic," she'd murmured, her hand brushing the small of his back.

Chapter 6, Scene 2: "A Table with a View"

After the shoe shopping, with bags swinging from each arm and Devon's cheeks still glowing from the measuring, the trio made their way to a bistro just off Oxford Street. Caitlin insisted on it.

"You've earned a treat," she said, looping her arm through his as they crossed the street. "And I want to admire your legs under proper lighting."

Devon blushed. "You can't even see them."

"I can," Mia said, grinning as she glanced down. "Every time the sun hits those tights. They glow."

Devon had worn his Wolford Neon 40s in cosmetic since they'd left the house that morning, sheer, glossy, and almost indistinguishable from bare skin unless the light caught just right. Caitlin had chosen them specifically for that effect, and the cropped hem of his jeans left just enough ankle visible to make her smile every time she looked at him.

Inside, the bistro was elegant and understated. Pale pink upholstery, matte gold fixtures, and the quiet clinking of silverware set the mood. Caitlin picked a table by the window, with low seats and much to Devon's discomfort, no tablecloth.

Mia slid into the booth opposite Caitlin, with Devon tucked in beside her like a nervous trophy.

"Stretch your legs out a little," Caitlin murmured, brushing his thigh. "Let them breathe."

Devon obeyed reluctantly, adjusting in his seat. The sheer shimmer of his tights caught in the afternoon light, a subtle but unmistakable gleam across his calves and ankles. He felt naked.

Their server arrived, a petite woman with sleek dark hair, barely older than them. Her eyes flicked once to Devon's lower half, lingered for a split second on the visible nylon, then returned to the notepad in her hand with professional grace.

"Drinks?"

"Two glasses of the Provençal rosé," Caitlin said with a practiced smile. "And a sparkling water for him."

The waitress nodded and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Mia leaned in.

"She totally noticed."

Devon turned red. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Mia whispered. "She stared at your ankles like they were dessert."

"She's probably wondering if you lost a bet," Caitlin teased. "Or if you're just that confident."

Devon sighed, sinking lower in his seat. "I feel like everyone's looking at me."

"That's because they should," Caitlin said, sipping some his water. "You've never looked more delicious."

The rosé arrived moments later. The waitress placed the glasses down neatly, then gave Devon the faintest smile. It wasn't mocking, more intrigued than anything else.

Caitlin held her glass up. "To our little fashionista in the making."

Mia clinked hers with a grin. "To shiny legs and shopping trips."

Devon could only shake his head, smiling despite himself.

As their lunch arrived, Caitlin opened her phone and began scrolling through the boutique's online catalogue again.

"You'll need something to go with those grey heels," she said, not looking up.

"Especially now that we know your true size," Mia added.

"I don't know if I'm ready for that in public yet," Devon said quietly.

"You don't have to be," Caitlin replied, reaching for a fry. "But at home? Every day. We'll start slow."

Mia winked. "Just until walking in heels feels as normal as wearing tights already does."

Devon looked down at his lap, the sheen of the Neon 40s glowing softly. The truth was… it already did.

Chapter 6, Scene 3: "First Steps"

The moment they stepped back into the flat, Caitlin dropped her shopping bags and turned to Devon with a playful glint in her eye.

"Right," she said, slipping off her shoes. "Let's see what you've learned."

Mia kicked off her own boots and flopped onto the velvet sofa, stretching with a yawn. "It's time, sweetheart."

Devon stood near the hallway, still in his cropped jeans and Wolford Neon 40s, the sleek grey shopping bags from the boutique clutched tightly in one hand. He hesitated.

Caitlin crossed the room and took them from him, setting them gently on the coffee table.

She reached for one particular pair, the low-heeled dove grey Mary Janes with a delicate strap. "These first," she said softly. "Slip them on."

Devon sat on the edge of the sofa and removed his trainers. The moment his nyloned feet were bare again, Caitlin knelt before him, taking his right foot in her hand.

"They look so good on you," she murmured, buckling the little strap across his arch.

Mia watched from the sofa, eyes soft. "Honestly, I don't know what I love more, how the tights catch the light, or the way your legs twitch every time she touches you."

Devon flushed as Caitlin stood and took a step back.

"Up."

He stood slowly, the slight lift in his heels making him adjust his balance immediately. Not uncomfortable, just… unfamiliar. It shifted him forward ever so slightly, changing how he held himself.

Both women smiled instantly.

"Oh, he's adorable," Mia said. "Look at that little posture adjustment."

"You look taller already," Caitlin teased. "Now walk for us."

Devon hesitated again.

"Now," she said, voice firmer. "Heels together. Soft steps. Back straight."

He took a cautious step.

Then another.

The slight click of the heels on the hardwood floor was intoxicating, faint but undeniable.

He turned, wobbling just once before correcting himself, then made his way slowly down the hallway and back, eyes flicking between the girls.

When he stopped in front of them, Caitlin clapped once, beaming.

"Very good."

Mia crossed her legs, letting her nylon-clad foot bounce lazily. "For a first-timer? Better than a lot of girls I've seen."

Devon laughed nervously. "It feels weird."

"It's supposed to," Caitlin said, pulling him gently down onto the sofa between them. "That's what makes it special."

They kissed him, one on each cheek, then on the mouth, soft, warm, approving.

"You did so well today," Caitlin whispered. "I'm proud of you."

"And," Mia added, glancing out the window as twilight deepened outside, "I think we should celebrate."

Devon followed her gaze. "Celebrate how?"

"A walk," she said simply. "Just around the block. You're dressed already. Nothing too daring. Just a soft evening breeze… and a chance to feel your heels outside."

Devon hesitated.

But Caitlin leaned in, her voice gentle and steady.

"You'll be between us. No one will say a thing. And we'll be with you the whole time."

"Come on," Mia smiled. "Your first walk in heels under the stars. That's a memory."

Devon looked at them, two beautiful women in tights, both wearing heels, both glowing with encouragement.

He took a breath, and nodded.

Chapter 6, Scene 4: "Evening Shine"

The front door clicked softly behind them as they stepped out into the cooling London evening.

The street was calm, tinged with the golden-blue glow of early dusk. Cars murmured in the distance, and the warm lights of nearby shops and flats twinkled like a quiet invitation. The pavement was dry and smooth, perfect for a walk in new shoes.

Caitlin led the way, glancing down at her own sleek black stilettos, the sharp tips of her heels clicking confidently. Mia wore a wine-red pair of pointed toe pumps with a shorter heel, her legs wrapped in sheer black tights with a faint shimmer.

Devon followed just between them, dressed more subtly: his cropped jeans revealed a whisper of Wolford Neon 40s in cosmetic, and the dove-grey Mary Janes hugged his feet snugly. The low block heels made only a gentle tap with each step, enough to remind him of their presence, but not enough to overwhelm.

"Relax your shoulders," Caitlin whispered beside him. "Let your hips guide your stride. You're doing beautifully."

Mia chuckled, looping her arm through his. "You're already walking straighter than half the girls I see out here."

Devon's nerves began to ease with each step. At first, he focused on the pavement, adjusting to the slight lift of the heel. But soon, his body started to move naturally. The sway came without thinking, the balance found its own rhythm, and the nylon between his thighs created a soft friction that was utterly addictive.

He caught his reflection briefly in a shop window as they passed, the shape of his legs, the way his calves curved just a little more, the gleam from the tights, and he smiled.

They turned the corner into a quieter residential lane lined with trees, then looped back toward the main road. Just ahead, the soft yellow glow of their favorite neighborhood café spilled onto the pavement.

"Oooh," Mia said. "Coffee?"

Caitlin nodded. "Just to go."

Devon hesitated. "In here?"

"They won't notice," Caitlin assured him, pushing the door open. "Or if they do, they'll love it."

The café was mostly empty, save for a student with headphones and a couple chatting in the corner. Behind the counter stood a young barista, pretty, with short curly hair and tortoiseshell glasses.

Caitlin ordered two lattes and a flat white while Mia picked out pastries. Devon stood beside them, quiet but not shrinking, hands in his jacket pockets.

The barista's eyes flicked briefly to his legs, just once, then smiled brightly. "Cute shoes."

Devon flushed.

Mia beamed. "Aren't they? First walk out in them."

The girl smiled again, clearly entertained, and handed over their drinks.

Back outside, the three of them strolled slowly home, sipping coffee and laughing. The air was crisp but not cold, and each step Devon took felt like affirmation, like he was moving further into something true, something his.

"I feel like I could do this forever," he said softly as they turned back onto their street.

"You will," Caitlin replied, brushing her hand against his. "Every week. Maybe even every day."

"And higher heels," Mia added, raising her cup in a toast. "Soon."

Devon smiled as they reached the door, his calves burning slightly but his heart full.

He hadn't just walked in heels.

He'd arrived.

Chapter 6, Scene 5: "Praise and Pressure"

The flat welcomed them back with warm lighting and the soft scent of home, candles still flickering gently from earlier, their shoes clicking across the wooden floor as they entered.

Devon exhaled slowly, leaning against the door as it closed behind them. His calves tingled, his thighs warm and buzzing beneath the glossy Neon 40s.

"You did so well," Caitlin said, setting her coffee cup down on the counter. "I couldn't take my eyes off your legs."

"I was proud," Mia added, smiling as she peeled off her jacket. "I couldn't believe how confidently you moved by the end."

He flushed, toeing off one of the grey Mary Janes, but Caitlin stopped him with a look.

"Sit," she said, nodding to the velvet sofa.

Devon obeyed, easing into the cushions while still wearing the heels. The tights shimmered under the warm light, stretched perfectly over the curve of his foot and ankle, a little wrinkled now from the walk.

Caitlin knelt before him and began unbuckling one shoe, her fingers gentle and unhurried. Mia did the same on the other side, slipping the strap free and slowly removing the heel.

"You've earned a little pampering," Mia murmured.

Without another word, both women took one of his feet and began massaging his aching feet. Their thumbs and palms moved over the smooth nylon, pressing into the arch, the ball, the heel. The fabric gave under their hands, creating the softest, slickest pressure.

Devon let his head fall back with a groan.

"Feels good?" Caitlin asked softly, her fingers sliding up to his ankle.

"Mmmhmm…"

Mia purred, her lips grazing Devon's ear, "You're so fucking hot in tights. It's like every muscle is begging for my touch." She shifted, her breath hitching as she pressed his foot firmly against her heat, the sheer nylon the only barrier between them. He could feel it all, her warmth, her wetness, her desire.

She began to move, a slow, torturous grind against his foot. The room filled with the sound of nylon whispering against nylon, the friction building, the pressure intensifying. "Fuck, Devon..." Mia gasped.

Caitlin watched, her eyebrow arched, lips curled in a wicked smirk. "Jealous," she murmured, mirroring Mia's movements, clamping his other foot between her thighs. Her black Wolford stay-ups were slick and hot, soaked with her own need. "Now be a good boy," she commanded, her voice a sultry whisper. "Don't move. Just let us fuck you like this."

The room was a symphony of ragged breaths, wet kisses, and the soft, insistent rustle of fabric stretching and pressing. Both women rocked against him, their gasps and moans synchronizing with every deliberate shift. Devon was frozen, his cock throbbing against his jeans, the pleasure of watching them, feeling them, overwhelming every sense.

Mia reached her peak first, her head thrown back in ecstasy, one hand gripping his shin, the other buried between her thighs. Caitlin followed suit, her hips trembling against him, her groans muffled into her hand, the wet heat unmistakable and intoxicating.

For a moment, all was still.

Then Caitlin straightened, brushing her damp hair back from her face. "We're not done."

Mia rose next, adjusting her skirt. "Nope. Back on."

They each took a shoe and gently guided it back onto his feet, buckling the straps like it was part of some sacred ritual.

"You'll wear them for the rest of the evening," Caitlin said. "You'll practice every day."

"Because next time," Mia added with a grin, "we go higher."

Devon looked down at his legs, the sheen of the tights, the soft pressure of the heels… and nodded.

"Yes. Anything you want."