It was our first full day at the cottage, and Abigail had already cajoled Bluebelle into making me wear nothing but panties while in the house and garden. I was realising that Bluebelle, despite her apparent fierceness, appeared ready to acquiesce to Abigail's suggestions, no matter how outrageous they were. Would there be a bust-up between the pair at some point? Where would I stand if that happened?

But this was not the time to think through the consequences because Bluebelle suddenly appeared and ordered me to wash her car, which she insisted would be dirty after the long journey down.

“Hmmm... it's round the front of the house,” I muttered. “Can I put clothes on? I might get seen!”

“No! We've told you that you don't wear clothes in the house or garden, you moron. The driveway is part of the garden! Don't you understand plain English?” Bluebelle squealed. While she had not initially been keen on the idea of me being semi-naked, she now seemed to have undergone a conversion and was relishing the thought of me squirming in embarrassment on the driveway.

Abigail came to stand alongside her friend. I stared at them both, unsure what more to say, forcing Abigail to explain further. “No one will see you from the road, and I can't believe anyone will walk up the drive,” she remarked, suppressing a smile. Sensing my nervousness, she added, “If you think they might, it'll be an incentive for you to work faster, Puppy!”

“Yes, I see...” I replied, feeling overwhelmed by anxiety.

“But you need sunscreen on, Puppy. We own you, and we don't want our property getting sunburnt,” continued Abigail. Bluebelle passed her a large bottle of spray-on sunscreen. “Panties off, you don't want them stained.”

I removed my pink cotton knickers, standing in front of them with my chastity device on full view. “Is this arousing you, Puppy?” asked Abigail. “That cage looks to be on the point of bursting open.” She was right that my penis was attempting to expand due to the humiliating way they were treating me.

Abigail ordered me to close my eyes and hold my arms out, and then she liberally sprayed me with sunscreen. “Put your panties back on, Puppy. You're good to go,” she concluded, giving my bottom a flirtatious pinch as I turned to leave.

oooOOooo

I was soon busying myself sprucing up the Mini using cleaning materials I found in the garage, conscious that someone—the postman, maybe—might at any moment stroll into view. Fortunately, no one came, but they were right, being naked apart from panties was a strong incentive to work quickly.

But the summer sun was already high up, and the temperature was rising. Water was evaporating from the metalwork almost as soon as it hit, creating streaks that I had to polish out, but I eventually got the job done, and without being seen. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Task completed and feeling exhausted, I went to find the girls in the back garden, lying under parasols on sun loungers alongside the pool. They were on their backs, attired in scanty scarlet bikinis I had unpacked the previous evening. Their bodies were to die for, with flat tummies and shapely thighs. And the cups of their bra tops were cradling their young, firm boobs, while their bikini bottoms clung tight to their genitalia, revealing camel toes.

I tried not to stare, but I again felt my penis trying to expand inside its cage, a stark reminder that it was now over a week since I'd had any sort of sexual relief. How long would it be before they unlocked me, I wondered.

“What kept you so long, Puppy?” asked Bluebelle, staring at me as I stood awaiting further instructions. “You need to work harder if you want to please us.”

“Sorry, Miss,” I replied.

“So you should be!” she huffed.

“I need you to put sun cream on me, back and front,” demanded Abigail, changing the subject and pointing to a large squeezy bottle of sunscreen on the ground.

I couldn't believe what she was asking. Was she doing this to tease me? Did Bluebelle approve? Was this another example of Bluebelle giving in to whatever Abigail wanted—it seemed like that.

After applying a large dollop of the gooey liquid to my hands, I began to rub it into Abigail's skin, beginning at her feet, working my way up her legs but unsure how close she expected me to go towards the most private parts of her body.

Very close, it turned out! “Come on, Puppy, go right up to, but not inside, my bikini.”

As I did what she instructed, my penis was throbbing inside its prison. Was she clueless about how she was tormenting me? Or did she know exactly what she was doing?

Tenderly, I began massaging the cream into the soft skin of her upper thighs. As I approached her genital region, I became more cautious.

“Stop lingering, Puppy,” she hissed. “Go right up to the hem, but no further.” I applied more cream to my fingers and tentatively edged towards her bikini bottom, going as far as I was allowed to, my penis quivering in its cage.

“Now the top half,” she instructed. Starting at her waistline, I gently rubbed blocker into her flesh, moving closer to her bra top and stopping at just the point where the bottom of the cups met her skin.

All that remained at the front was the area above the top of her bra. It was low cut, and it was impossible to apply cream without touching the upper parts of her breasts. They were warm from the heat, and they were soft and firm and pert. I desperately wanted to slip my hand further inside to cup a boob and to touch a nipple, but I knew that would be crossing a boundary. As I worked in the cream, I watched transfixed as her nipples grew erect. And, gazing down at her bikini bottom, I could see her camel toe, and in front of it, was a damp patch, growing by the second.

I glanced up at her face, wondering if she was embarrassed in any way, but—no—she had her eyes closed and was totally unconcerned that I was witnessing her arousal.

As I finished, she turned onto her stomach. “Now my back, Puppy,” she said. “You'll need to undo my bra.”

My fingers were trembling as I undid the clasp, pulling the two ends apart and then easing down the shoulder straps. I began to rub the sun blocker into her back, combining the application with an attempted massage. “Hmmm... that's nice, Puppy,” she cried. “Keep doing that for a while longer.”

I did so, until I sensed I was on the point of outstaying my welcome, and I began to apply the cream to the back of her legs, starting at the hem of her bikini bottom and working my way down to her feet.

My penis was pounding, and I was in considerable discomfort but, not for one moment, did I wish to give up the quest. Precum was leaking out, and I knew that my panties were becoming drenched.

The pair were lesbians, but it was obvious that Abigail had no objections to receiving intimate attention from a man, and Bluebelle was able to disguise any concerns she may have had with her girlfriend flirting with me.

oooOOooo

Having given Abigail the protection against the sun that she wanted, I hung around for a while, in case Bluebelle wished for the same.

“No, Puppy,” she exclaimed, “I don't want you touching my skin, so stop hovering around like some pesky bluebottle. Make a start on the decorating.”

I hesitated before leaving, because there was a delicate subject I needed to broach. “Er... may I ask you both something?” I queried, looking first at one girl and then the other. Bluebelle, still lying on her back, sighed and nodded, her impatience written across her face.

“When... er... when am I likely to be released? I'm... erm... struggling a lot.” I pointed down at my groin in case there was any doubt as to what I was talking about.

Bluebelle scowled at me. “That's not a question you should be asking, Puppy. You have to trust us to decide. You do trust us, don't you?”

I wasn't sure, but there was only one reply I could give. “Yes, Miss, absolutely!”

She smiled maliciously at me. “That's the right answer, Puppy. So you can hold on longer, can't you?”

I wasn't certain I could, but I nodded while swallowing hard.

Abigail joined in the conversation. “But I guess he should be given a safe word if things get too much, Blue.”

Bluebelle glared contemptuously at me for a few seconds before saying, “Hmm... what about 'train ride' as a safe word?”

That's two words, I thought, but it was not my place to correct her, so I simply nodded again.

“If you say 'train ride' then we give you the key and your money and you get the train back home. We never see you again—ever. Is that fair, Puppy?”

“Yes, Miss,” I croaked. She grinned, knowing that it was extremely unlikely I would ever choose to use the safe word.

“Now, as you've been impertinent, you can go and face the back wall as a punishment. Go on! Go and face the wall. Nose pressed against it,” ordered Bluebelle, with a satisfied smile.

oooOOooo

I can't be certain how long I stood facing the wall—it seemed like ages, but it may only have been ten minutes. But, however long it was, I was relieved to hear Bluebelle summoning me. “Puppy, take the cover off the pool and then check the chlorine level to ensure the water's safe,” she demanded. “There should be a test kit, with instructions, in the garage. I'm sure even you might be able to manage that.”

Moving as quickly as I could, I did what they bid and was able to tell them that they were okay to take a swim.

Both girls jumped into the pool, sending up sprays of water which drenched me as I stood on the side, watching. The pool wasn't big enough for serious swimming, so, after thrashing around for a few minutes, they settled for floating on their backs.

Not for the first time, I wasn't sure what to do. Should I stay where I was, or make a start on the decorating? I was about to ask, when I noticed that Abigail was staring intently at me, while grinning.

“The spray's made your panties go transparent, Puppy. I can see your cage. But your body looks so feminine,” she purred.

She paused to gather her thoughts. “By that, I... I mean you're not very hairy, and what body hair you have is almost blond... Nor are you very muscular, and you've a flat tummy, a narrow waist and cute facial features. That'll be why those panties suit you.” I felt my face redden, and I nodded—what else could I do?

“And your bras will also suit you, when they arrive. I did mention that Bluebelle had agreed you should wear one, didn't I? While you were washing the car, I ordered them online, along with a pair of inserts. Don't worry, Puppy, they're only C cups!”

No, she had not mentioned anything about bras being ordered, but it was perhaps no surprise that she had again coaxed her girlfriend into doing something that Bluebelle had shown no enthusiasm for, just a few hours earlier.

I gulped as Abigail continued. “Trust me, Puppy, you'll look great in bra and knickers. Honestly you will. Like a Greek Adonis in undies! But you're not gay, are you, Puppy? You fancy us, but you know you can't fuck us, don't you, not locked in that cage? I can see why that's driving you mad with frustration? You'd love us to get laid, yes?”

“Don't give him ideas, Abby,” interrupted Bluebelle, twiddling the key on the gold chain around her neck. “He's here to work, not engage in your ridiculous fantasies.”

“But working hard will take his mind off what he really wants to do, Blue, which is fuck us. Is that right, Puppy? You want to fuck us?”

“I... I'm your slave, Miss,” I nervously replied. Abigail was taunting me, and I could tell that Bluebelle was becoming irritated by the line she was taking.

“I wish I'd left the damn key to his cage behind, with you going on like this, Abby,” snorted Bluebelle.

“I'm not doing any harm, Blue... How many girls have you fucked, Puppy?” Abigail boldly asked.

“Er...”

“Come on! I don't need the exact number. Just a rough idea—five, ten, twenty...”

“Erm... it's... it's zero, Miss!”

“What!” exclaimed Bluebelle, taking a renewed interest in the conversation. “Are you telling us you're a virgin?” Her face had lit up in astonishment at my revelation.

I felt myself blushing and barely able to speak. “Ye... yes, Miss,” I mumbled.

“Have you ever seen a girl naked, Puppy? In real life, I mean,” asked Abigail. I shook my head. “A girl's breasts? Her nipples? Her pussy? Her wet pussy?” I continued to shake my head. “A girl in her undies?” I was still unable to give an affirmative response.

“What a shallow life you've led, Puppy,” declared Bluebelle, scornfully. “Twenty years old, two years at university and nothing to show for it—apart from a chastity cage and several pairs of your own panties. Pathetic!”

“Look! You're making him embarrassed!” exclaimed her companion. She was right and I wanted the ground to swallow me up. “Blue, not everyone sees university as an opportunity to fuck all and sundry. Don't be nasty to him. He's sweet and innocent. We mustn't be cruel to him. He may be our property, but he's still got feelings. Haven't you, Puppy?”

“Yes, Miss,” I murmured.

Abigail smiled kindly at me, saying, “Well, Puppy, it wouldn't be appropriate for you—a slave—to thrust your willy inside us, nor even to see us naked, but, if you work hard, as a treat I think you should be allowed to occasionally see us in our undies.”

“No way!” protested Bluebelle, with a hollow laugh. “He won't be seeing me half-dressed, and neither should he see you, Abby.”

“He's seen us in our swimwear, Blue, so what's the difference?”

“All the difference in the world!”

Abigail, unseen by her friend, gave me a wink, which I took to mean that she would, one way or another, get her own way, and I would get to see her in her lingerie, but I also knew that it would prove a painful experience for me.

“Enough of this stupidity, Abby. He's here to work and I'm feeling peckish, so Puppy can make us all jam sandwiches for lunch. Off you go, Puppy. The decorating starts after lunch.”

oooOOooo

After we'd eaten, I laboured away carrying boxes from the spare bedroom into an outbuilding for temporary storage. Then I set to work removing old wallpaper using a steamer. Bluebelle had found the tools I needed in a shed.

What I was doing was hard graft, and the heat and humidity from the steamer were building up in a room already subject to summer temperatures. The girls, I imagined, were still by the pool, and I longed for a break so I could talk to them—and see them again in their bikinis.

It was around 4 PM when Abigail, still wearing her swimwear, came upstairs to check what I was doing. “Good boy! You've been working hard, and you've done far more than I was expecting, Puppy,” she remarked, when she saw that half of the wallpaper had been removed.

She wandered into her bedroom and was there for several minutes before reappearing on the landing wearing a lacy pink bra and a matching pair of bikini panties. “Do you like what you see, Puppy?” she unnecessarily asked.

I didn't know where to look. Yes, I desperately wanted to stare but, while bikinis are designed to be leered at, surely that wasn't the case with girls in their lingerie. I felt it was a trap she was setting.

“You can look, Puppy,” she commented, seeing that I was torn between looking and turning away. “Look at me, Puppy!” she sharply insisted. “Do as you're told!”

I did so, and I felt my penis rapidly swelling inside its small cage, causing me to wince. “Are you getting aroused? Would you like to feel a pussy, Puppy?” she asked. “A wet pussy?”

My mouth instantly dried up and I lost the ability to speak, so I dumbly nodded.

She smiled and walked over to me. “Slip your hand down there, Puppy,” she explained, pulling on the waistband of her panties. I slid my hand down and, for the first time in my life, I touched the most intimate and private part of a girl's anatomy. And, as she had said, it was wet. I allowed my fingers to explore, feeling the layout of its features, landmarks that were a mystery to me, but which, in my brain, I was trying to match to diagrams I had seen in biology classes—and images I'd leered at in pornographic videos. And, as I explored, I was forced to ignore the increasing pounding of my penis, desperate to expand into a non-existent space.

This went on for a couple of minutes. I was so close to her that her breasts were rubbing against my chest, and I could feel her warm breath on my throat. Her sensual perfume, freshly applied minutes earlier in the bedroom, drifted up my nasal passages. I sensed her breathing was becoming heavier, and then she placed her arms around my back, pulling me in tighter. Her erect nipples dug into my chest, as I continued to fondle her pussy. Then her tongue pushed its way into my mouth, entangling itself with mine.

But, as suddenly as it had begun, she called a halt. “That's enough, Puppy. You need to get on with your work,” she coolly announced. She pulled away from me, forcing my hand out of her knickers, and she strolled back into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Seconds later, I heard a buzzing sound coming from the room which culminated minutes later in screams of ecstasy and the sound of the bed creaking and banging against the wall.

Not long after, she emerged, looking flushed and dressed in a vest top and miniskirt. “I told you get on with your work,” she bluntly remarked, when she saw me smiling at her. “Just because you're cute, doesn't mean I won't punish you, Puppy. Remember, as Bluebelle keeps reminding you, you're here to work.”

From the corner of my eye, I watched her graciously descend the stairs.

A while later, Bluebell came up. “What are you smirking about?” she asked, rhetorically. “You need to pull your finger out. I was expecting all the wallpaper to be off by now.”

Did she realise how close she had been to the truth with her reference to pulling out a finger? “Why are your knickers damp?” she queried, glaring down at the wet stains left from pre-cum.

Fortunately, she didn't wait for an answer, and she went into the bedroom. Minutes later, she came out fully dressed, not even giving me a second glance as she made her way downstairs.