I was exhausted after a long day with Hannah, which had included her taking me shopping for bras and panties, and then spanking me for breaking a rule that I wasn't even aware existed. Despite knowing that the following day I would be cleaning her flat, I slept like a log, for the first time not even waking up for an attempted nocturnal erection.

oooOOooo

Luckily, I set an alarm for Sunday morning as I couldn't afford to oversleep and be late arriving at her apartment. I shaved, showered, breakfasted and then got dressed, first putting on one of my new white T-shirt bras, followed by a pair of my new white cotton panties. I then found a pair of the thinnest white socks I owned and placed one in each cup to provide the merest hint of shape. As I glanced at myself in a mirror, I felt my penis waking up to the humiliating sight that greeted me.

I reached down inside my panties to play with myself, which, nowadays, consisted of no more than touching the tip of my penis, the only part visible in its steel tube. This was a moment I wanted a wank, but I remembered Hannah reminding me that my obedience and subservience would increase in line with my growing sexual frustration. Moreover, I knew that climaxing inside the tube was virtually impossible, so accepting growing frustration was my only option.

From my wardrobe, I selected a heavy-duty dark-blue shirt to wear. This seemed to be the best choice to reduce the risk of some innocent member of the public possibly detecting my bra. Certainly, the shirt was rather thick for that time of year, but better to be safe than sorry.

Socks, jeans and shoes followed, and I was about to leave the house when I hesitated. Yes, I thought to myself, I should wear a thick coat to further reduce the risk of discovery. So, despite it being a warm spring day, I was attired more for winter.

oooOOooo

I drove to Hannah's flat to minimise interactions with other people. I arrived a few minutes early but decided to wait in the car so as to ring the doorbell dead on nine.

I gave the bell a double ring, copying Hannah's style. It was a minute or so before the door was opened, and I was face-to-face with a pretty blonde girl. She looked much like Hannah—except she wasn't Hannah!

“Sorry! Wrong address!” I muttered.

I turned to go, but she called me back. “You're Mr Benson, aren't you? We're expecting you.”

I swivelled around, unable to believe what I was hearing. “You... you were expecting me?”

“Yes! Hannah and I were expecting you. I'm Maisie.”

Involuntarily, I shook my head. “No... I... I'd... best—”

“Hannah's in the shower, but she said you wouldn't want to disappoint her by not coming in. So come in.”

Choosing to “disappoint” Hannah would have unpleasant consequences, such as serving longer locked in my chastity cage—or possibly even another spanking. It seemed I had no choice but to enter this lair.

“Come on!” Maisie urged. I took a deep breath and followed her into the flat. From another room, I could hear water running, and, despite my high state of anxiety, my penis gave a twitch as I thought of Hannah naked in the shower, her hands possibly playing with her most private bodily region.

Maisie led me into a room furnished with a battered sofa and two armchairs. “Take your coat off, for God's sake. Who wears a winter coat on a day like this?” she laughed.

I hesitated, but, remembering I had on a thick shirt, I did what she asked. She sat herself down on the sofa, and I moved to sit in one of the armchairs.

“No!” she exclaimed, in a no-nonsense tone of voice. “Hannah said you were to adopt the standing presentation position.”

“What?”

“Haha! She said you'd pretend not to understand. But you do understand, don't you, Mr Benson? So, adopt the position.”

“Hmm...”

“Hannah and I have no secrets, Mr Benson. I know what you have to do, so do it.”

My face was burning up, but I'd been backed into a corner. I stood in front of Maisie, with my feet a shoulder's width apart and my hands flat on the top of my head.

She smiled but said nothing.

“Are... are you another student, Maisie?” I asked, in an attempt to shatter the tension in the room.

“I didn't say you could speak, Mr Benson, did I? So, keep quiet!”

She stared thoughtfully at me. “But, yes, I'm a second-year psychology student, like Hannah. We're best friends, and we're flatmates.”

There were other questions I had, but I knew better than to ask them. Fortunately, Maisie was more than happy to pre-empt my queries. “I know about Hannah's dissertation and, no, my dissertation is on a far more sensible subject—lucid dreams.” She giggled, probably thinking how ludicrous Hannah's topic was. “But I've agreed to help her in any way I can, Mr Benson. That's what friends do, isn't it?”

I nodded, wondering how far this went. Possibly, Maisie was about to say something else when she was interrupted by Hannah, who yelled for her. “Maisie!! Will you come here for a mo?”

Maisie smiled at me and went off to see what Hannah wanted, returning a minute later with an even broader smile.

“Hannah says you're to strip off to your underwear and then go and face the wall.”

I dithered for a moment, causing Maisie to increase the pressure I felt. “Hannah says if you don't, you'll get your bottom whopped. Is that what you want, Mr Benson? Another spanking?”

My face must now have been scarlet, but my dick didn't share the embarrassment and was pushing painfully against its slim steel tube. I gave Maisie a final glance, and she nodded in response, encouraging me to do what she wanted.

There was no point in delaying further. The endpoint was inevitable, so I took off my shoes, socks, trousers and shirt, in that order, until I stood in front of her wearing just panties and bra.

She looked me up and down, commenting, “Yes, I can see why Hannah likes you dressed like that. How humiliating it must be for you, but you're a submissive, so what do you expect?”

Did she want me to answer? No! “Come on, you were told to face the wall, so go over there. Keep your hands on your head.”

oooOOooo

I don't know how long I stood there for, but I detected that Maisie had left the room, presumably to chat with Hannah.

Eventually, I heard them both return. “Morning, Mr Benson!” announced Hannah, in a matter-of-fact way, as if the situation I found myself in was entirely normal. “Turn around and look what Sheila—Professor Williams to you—has lent you.”

She passed me something that she'd been hiding behind her back. There was a pair of them, and they were heavy. It took me a few seconds to realise they were breast inserts and most likely of a realistic weight.

“Go on, Mr Benson, put them in. They're the right size, and they'll make you feel more like a woman.”

Gobsmacked and red-faced, I extracted the socks from inside each cup and slid in the falsies. Yes, they were heavy, and, yes, they gave me more of a female shape. The two girls were smiling, both clearly pleased by me being so compliant.

You've cleaning to do,” declared Hannah, without further ado. “Come on! Chop, chop! Cleaning materials are in the kitchen, beneath the sink, and the vacuum cleaner's in the cupboard in the hallway.”

oooOOooo

The next two hours I spent thoroughly cleaning the flat. It wasn't large—it was on the ground floor, with a kitchen, bathroom, lounge and two bedrooms—but it had been neglected. Had I visited this flat before employing Hannah as a cleaner, I would have realised that cleaning didn't come naturally to her—nor, seemingly, to Maisie.

One or other of the girls occasionally came to check on me, pointing out something I'd missed, but, luckily, there was no threat of punishment. It was a relief when I'd finished, and Hannah and Maisie had signalled their joint satisfaction.

“Now there's laundry that needs doing,” advised Hannah. “Collect up all the delicate items from the laundry bins in the bedrooms and then handwash them following these instructions.” She passed me a piece of paper on which were printed detailed guidelines.

“Delicate items?” I echoed.

“Yes, you know, knickers, bras, tights, etc—anything that might be damaged in a washing machine. And don't muddle my stuff up with Maisie's! Keep them separate.”

I couldn't believe I was going to handle their most intimate items of clothing. My penis gave another spasm, releasing a jet of precum onto the front of my panties, something that didn't escape the attention of either girl, bringing smiles to their faces.

“We want you to sniff the panties, Mr Benson,” announced Maisie. “See if you can tell us apart. There'll be a test later,” she giggled.

A test? My penis gave another agonising jerk.

oooOOooo

I collected up all their intimate items and made two piles so as not to mix up Hannah's items with Maisie's. Then, after reading and rereading the instructions I'd been given, I set to work handwashing first Hannah's and then Maisie's garments.

As a treat for myself, I kept back one pair of panties from each pile. In Hannah's case, I held back the pink pair that she'd been wearing the day before, when she'd spanked me. They had become saturated with her juices.

Once I'd laundered everything else, I dried my hands and picked up Hannah's panties, putting the gusset beneath my nose and inhaling deeply. Instantly, my nasal passages were assailed by her familiar scent, my penis throbbing inside its cage as I took a further deep breath, savouring the overpowering essence.

Putting her garment to one side, I took Maisie's panties and sniffed them. Their fragrance was heavenly but distinctively different from Hannah's. Another sharp intake confirmed my finding that the two girls each had a characteristic odour, and I was confident I would pass whatever test they set.

I laundered these remaining two pairs of panties and reported back to the two girls. They were sitting side-by-side on the sofa—Hannah was banging away on her laptop while Maisie was scrolling on her phone.

“I've completed the laundry... Miss... and Miss,” I remarked, glancing first at one girl and then the other.

Hannah was engrossed in her typing, but Maisie looked up. “Did you sniff, Mr Benson?” she eagerly asked. “Like you were told?”

I nodded excitedly, and she reached down beside her chair and threw a black scarf in my direction. “Put that on," she ordered. “Are you ready, Hannah?” she enquired.

Hannah snapped her laptop shut while I secured the scarf around my head. Maisie instructed me to drop to my knees, and I sensed they had both stood up. Then there was some scuffling around that told me they were undressing.

“Move forward, Mr Benson,” instructed Hannah.

Carefully, I wobbled on my knees towards the sofa. As I got closer, a pair of hands grabbed my head and directed me in. I picked up a familiar scent drifting in my direction. It was undeniably Hannah's, but the hands wanted me closer.

I found my nose was in contact with silky fabric. It was rubbing against her soft panties. I took a deep breath. Yes, the aroma was unmistakably Hannah's. I was about to speak out when I hesitated. There was something else! Almost masked by Hannah's dominant scent was another fragrance.

I was confused, and then the penny dropped. Maisie was wearing Hannah's panties! I inhaled deeply to confirm my suspicions. And again, to be doubly sure.

“Maisie—sorry, Miss Maisie—are you wearing Miss Hannah's panties?” I confidently asked.

The pair giggled. “Shit!” exclaimed Maisie, “He's worked it out.”

“Clever man!” declared Hannah. “He's like a bloodhound and can follow a trail,” she laughed.

“Does he get a reward? Please say 'yes'!” Maisie pleaded.

“Yeah! It's your treat, Maisie,” Hannah replied.

Maisie's fingers pushed the crotch of her panties to one side, giving my mouth access to her pussy. Nothing was said, but my task was obvious, and I set to work.

Like Hannah had been the previous day, Maisie was already wet and very responsive to my servicing. For me, it was a double-edged sword of pleasure and pain. My sensory receptors were bombarded by both the scent and taste of Maisie's pussy and the strong aroma emanating from the nearby gusset of Hannah's knickers. Were it not for my small cage, I would have been in seventh heaven, but I wasn't going to let excruciating pain stop me from enjoying my mission.

I laboured away, using my lips to caress her labia and my tongue to flick her throbbing clit. Soon she was writhing in pleasure, begging me to push on. And it was arduous work. Despite her responsiveness, she was in no hurry to climax, and it seemed to take an eternity before she screamed out a blasphemy. Her back arched, and then her body seemed possessed by a seizure as it thrashed up and down, her hands continuing to hold me in intimate contact.

She sank back, breathing heavily and letting go of my head. Barely did I have time to catch my breath before I felt Hannah's hands grab me and pull me towards her. “My turn!” she screamed.

I set out to please her, just as I had the previous day in my house. She was ripe, and it took little effort on my part before she was bucking up and down like an unbroken horse trying to throw off its rider.

She let out a final gasp of “Fucking... hell!” before letting go of me and collapsing in a heap.

I knelt back, waiting for either one of them to recover sufficiently to speak in sentences. It was Maisie who spoke first.

“Turn... around... and... remove your... blindfold,” she demanded. “Then... then go and face... the wall.”

For several minutes, I stood with my nose pressed against the wall while they redressed—possibly even swapping their panties!

“Good man,” Hannah eventually remarked. “Come here and adopt the kneeling presentation position.”

There followed the familiar debriefing of my day's experiences... the highlights, low lights, etc. As I spoke, she typed notes into her laptop for her blasted dissertation.

oooOOooo

Maisie had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with cups of coffee and jam doughnuts for Hannah and herself.

I watched, salivating, as the pair made a show of eating their doughnuts. “I think he wants one,” remarked Hannah.

“Yes, but we only had the two,” added Maisie. “Sorry, Mr Benson,” she teased.

“Yeah, but you can lick my fingers, Mr Benson. Come on!” Hannah urged.

I moved forward, on my knees, and began to suck sugar and jam from her hand. It was humiliating, and I felt like a puppy awarded a small treat by its mistress. But it was also a sensual activity, none more so than when Hannah took command and began to thrust four fingers into my mouth, pulling them backwards and forwards, almost causing me to gag as she hit the back of my throat.

“Close your eyes, Mr Benson, and imagine my fingers are a willy. Is it nice?”

I couldn't speak, and, no, it wasn't nice, but this was another demeaning exercise, and undoubtedly the experience would be recorded in her dissertation.

oooOOooo

She withdrew her fingers, a satisfied expression on her face. “Maisie's made you a cheese sandwich, Mr Benson. I doubt that eating us both out replaced having lunch!” I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw it was 4 PM—I'd been there for seven hours! The time had flown by.

“We've both got dates tonight... hot dates with young stallions!” taunted Maisie. “So, eat up and then go home. You can lie on your bed tonight, locked securely in your chastity cage, thinking about us and what we're getting up to. You can be certain we'll both get laid, Mr Benson, like we do every weekend.” She grinned at me. “I can't wait!” she squealed, turning to face Hannah.

My penis was pushing with all its might against its tube as my brain processed the thought of them both being skewered by young studs. I stared at Maisie open-mouthed, almost drooling. I knew I would never get to experience penetrative sex with her or Hannah.

“But don't forget your twenty minutes of devotional corner time at 7 PM tonight and every night,” Hannah reminded me. “I'll see you next Saturday, Mr Benson... unless I choose to drop in on you before then to be sure you're following my rules.” It was a reminder that when at home alone, I was allowed to wear nothing except a bra and panties. “And don't forget the falsies,” she added, grinning.

I got dressed and bid them farewell, secretly hoping that I might get to see Hannah before Saturday—and perhaps Maisie as well. Hannah had promised me fun and, weirdly, fun was what I was having.