At home, the Queening stool now became a regular fixture in our evening schedule. Once Caroline settled on my face for the evening, she would happily spend two or three hours, watching TV while I gently worshipped her nether regions. I was occasionally allowed to masturbate myself, under my apron, but was rarely now asked to tongue her pussy. Instead, she had purchased a small vibrator which she used to stimulate her clit, whilst receiving my ministrations.

Next door, I was busy decorating a spare bedroom in Jennifer’s house. One morning, she entered the room wearing the most delectable ‘designer’ dress in a vivid shade of emerald. As usual, she wore high-heels and the sheerest black nylons.

“You’ve done such a good job today, Peter. Now, I know that we ladies can be very cruel at times. We simply can’t help it. Not with a man like you Peter. And you know very well that you deserve it, don’t you?” she stated.

“Thank you. Yes, Miss. I do my best to please.” I responded.

“Well, today, I am feeling generous. Caroline and I have discussed your little ‘fetishes’ at great length and I am going to give you a little reward. Come to my private parlour in ten minutes.

“Yes, Miss,” I panted.

Excited beyond belief, after a very long ten minutes, I knocked on her parlour door and was invited to enter. Jennifer was sitting, on the top of her desk, with her long shapely crossed nyloned legs on full display. She simply pointed a manicured finger to the ground at her feet. I fell to my knees and awaited her instructions.

“Peter, I know how erotic you find the sight of my lovely long legs. All men do, of course, but you are my special devotee. Obviously, I won’t ever allow you to touch them, but today, I will allow you to gaze on their perfection, while you have permission to masturbate your little penis.”

I blushed at the reality of her deep knowledge of my innermost weakness, but swiftly took out my over-used cock and, staring longingly at her majestic but forbidden femininity, began to wank myself off.

Tantalisingly, she slowly shifted position, to tease me even more. She knew exactly which subtle, demure, teasing, poses would take a fetishist to heaven.

“You are so weak, Peter. So perverted. Look at you, degrading yourself in front of a beautiful woman,” said Jennifer. “That’s it, look at my lovely long legs in their lovely sheer nylon. A man like you can only look, not touch.”

Though I tried to prolong the moment, all too soon, I was spurting my sperm forcefully in her direction. A tiny spec landed on her shoe.

“Well, aren’t we the big stud, Peter. Shooting your spunk for me like that. Now, come and lick that mess off my shoe!”

I lovingly bent to the task, gazing upwards in awe at the beautiful, smirking face of this goddess.

As she watched me, she reached forward, grabbed me by the hair and slapped me hard, twice, across the face.

“It’s OK, Peter. I’m not mad at you. I just felt like slapping you. You don’t mind, do you?” she said.

Rubbing my cheeks, “If it pleases you, Miss”.

On the following afternoon, back at home, Caroline had news for me.

“Marion has invited us to her home this evening Peter. Have a shower and make sure your body hair is fully removed, then put on that nice business suit you bought last year.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Unsure about this turn of events, I recalled that it was Marion who had put several ‘femdom’ ideas into Caroline’s head. Nevertheless, I got ready as quickly as I could and met my wife in the hall, ready to depart.

The vision that greeted me took the wind from my sails! She wore a coat she had inherited from her aunt, some time ago. This was the first time I’d seen her wear it: an ankle-length blue-fox fur with matching hat! To complete her outfit, she was wearing dark glasses, black sling-back leather high heels, glossy, barely black nylons and black kid-leather gloves. Her lips were painted in a rich maroon colour.

Without speaking, she pointed down, with an out-stretched painted ‘talon’.

“Well?”

I fell to my knees, kissed her shoes and savoured the heady scent of her expensive, erotic perfume.

“Good boy, Peter. I like to see my efforts appreciated. Now, get up and go open the car door for me. I’ll give you directions while you drive.”

As she seated herself, her fur coat opened, to reveal a short red skirt, shapely nylon-covered thighs and a hint of stocking tops. I averted my lustful gaze just in time before she pulled the car door closed.

“Hurry up, Peter. You really don’t want to be late for Marion!”

I found it difficult to concentrate on driving with this fetishist’s dream sitting next to me. However, we eventually arrived at an up-scale apartment block and made our way inside.

Marion was probably in her late fifties. Not pretty exactly, but ‘striking’ and vivacious. She was dressed in a full-length purple gown of a soft and yielding material which clung to her curves.

Her husband, Gerald, was clearly much older, but well turned out, like me, in a suit.

Things began conventionally. Gerald took Caroline’s coat and we were invited to relax in their well-appointed lounge, with cocktails and ‘nibbles’.

After the introductions, the conversation proceeded, between the two women. Instinctively, I followed Gerald’s cue and remained silent.

Gerald served up an amazing five-course gourmet feast accompanied by superb wines. Marion rarely spoke to him, but gave little hand gestures which he instantly obeyed. Shockingly, he was made to consume his meal, at Marion’s feet from a large dog bowl! Incredibly, none of this was mentioned as the ladies chatted over dinner, about fashion, TV and celebrities, though occasionally, Marion would reach down and give her husband a little slap if he was heard slurping.

Gerald and I were left to clear away the dishes and load the dishwasher, whilst the ladies relaxed in the lounge with coffee and liqueurs. Eventually, we joined our wives. They were sitting together on a large sofa. We were invited to sit together on a sofa, opposite.

“I must say that I’m very impressed with the way you manage your household, Marion,” said my wife.

“Thank you, Caroline. It has taken a while, but as you can see, Gerald is now totally subservient to me. As I mentioned to you a while ago, the breakthrough was putting him in chastity. Would you like to see?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” laughed my wife.

Marion instructed Gerald to stand before Caroline and to drop his trousers and underpants.

From the side, I could see the unmistakable shape of a stainless-steel chastity device.

“How delightful!” said my wife, reaching out to manipulate Gerald’s genitals. “How often do you allow him to remove it?”

“Not very often, these days. The longer he’s in there, the more he seems to love and adore me. Isn’t that right, Gerald?”

His penis clearly stirring under my wife’s examination, managed to reply, “Yes darling.”