Evelyn Dresswell marched her son-in-law down the stairs with repeated nudges in the back of his blouse. "You will show Ms Ridge what a snivelling wimp you are," she barked, almost sending him headlong in his white high heels. "In love with ladies' panties... helpless once you're zipped up in a corset... an effeminate little pantywaist. Isn't that right, Nancy?"

Nat Bendover swallowed hard and tightened his face to prevent the tears from bursting down his powdered cheeks. "Y-Yes, Evelyn, I... I'm an effeminate pantywaist." He was only too conscious of his stiffened member in the gusset of his mother-in-law's reinforced white pantie-corselet, hidden, thank goodness, deep inside her silk bloomer and slip set and beneath the three petticoat slips that he wore under her violet polka-dot silk skirt.

 He knew his chances of avoiding an afternoon of humiliations with Miss Ridge were vanishing fast, the nearer he got to the sitting room. He could picture her from her last visit, sitting in avid expectation of an hour or two of chortling amusement at his expense. His misery doubled as he remembered being told to kneel at her feet, where she could throw the skirt of her dress over him again and capture him between those infernally strong silk stockings. When Ms Ridge was here a month ago, she nearly suffocated him in her silk georgette panties, holding him between her legs for an hour. Then he had been flogged over the music buffet for having made his own panties wet and sticky. Oh no! He couldn't endure that torment again. He took the unacceptable step of stopping in his tracks and begging Evelyn to excuse him this time.

  "I... I can't face Miss Ridge, Mother-In-Law. Please don't take me in to see her. I'll do anything you like to please you. Anything. But please don't let her get me under her dress."

  The slap he took from the weight of Evelyn's hand sent his cheek sizzling into the silk ruffles of the pink blouse she had got him in. "How dare you beg to avoid what I say is coming to you, you little ingrate! You piece of dirt! You worm! You will get into the sitting room this minute, and you will BEG... do you understand? You will BEG Miss Ridge to admit you into the sanctuary of her soft, feminine petticoats. Now GET IN THERE!"

  Nat Bendover was a flush beyond pink as he stumbled into the room and found himself under the glare of a sour faced Miss Ridge. A dig in his ribs reminded him to clutch the sides of his skirts and spread them wide for a deep and respectful curtsey. When he rose again on his heels and lifted his head, he caught in a glance the ruffled silk blouse and the deep skirt of royal blue satin that his tormentor wore. He could only guess at her intoxicating lingerie and the bewitching, tight control of her foundations. His mother-in-law introduced him.

  "You remember Fancy Nancy, Vera? My idiot son-in-law, who prefers to wear my dresses and lingerie than male clothes. At least I think he prefers them. Of course the fool doesn't get any choice in the matter."

  "Oh I do remember him, the little wimple. I very much enjoyed putting him into my panties last time, and masturbating the pervert as he sat in my lap. But he'll have to earn a treat like that today. I'm not going to bring the pantywaist to relief without him making an effort to amuse us."

  Nat caught his mother-in-law's s******** behind him. "The little wimp needs lots of panty service opportunities with ladies, darling... to improve his technique. Now, the fool has something to ask you, Vera."

  Evelyn's guest folded her arms beneath her enormous bosom, and her lined eyebrows lifted as if asking what such a drop of dribble could have the nerve to ask her for. Nat swallowed and blurted out what he had been instructed.

  "Please, Miss Ridge, may I kneel under your skirt and kiss you all over your panties?"

  The visitor looked from Nat to Evelyn in pretend astonishment, and back again.

  "Let you kiss my panties? You are a snivelling little failure, even at worshipping ladies’ legs, you big wet gusset!"

  Was she refusing? A hot wave passed through Nat. He knew he must persuade her to let him be humiliated. He did the unthinkable, and fell to his knees. "Miss Ridge, I... I need to worship your lovely panties. I want to worship them. Oh please, I beg you, allow me to kneel between your adorable legs... and kiss your beautiful panties while you are wearing them... my goddess!"

  Vera Ridge suppressed a smile. "Well, Fancy Nancy, you had better be as effeminate as your mother-in-law's lovely blouse deserves." She thought a moment longer. "Very well... sexless wimp. You may descend and kiss my boots."

  Nat spread his skirt and petticoats prettily around his knees, and lowered his lips towards Miss Ridge's pointed black leather toes. He kissed, he sucked, he licked. He allowed himself the privilege of planting open-lipped kisses higher up the leg of her mesmerising boots, and before he knew it, her wide skirt fell over him and he was engulfed in its whispering white silk petticoats. Once her stockings had separated an inch or two to admit his head and shoulders, they closed again with all the strength of a giant nylon vice.

  Vera Ridge clenched her teeth, reached her thighs further over her prisoner's shoulders, and squeezed his head between the welts at the tops of her stockings. The panty slave's hands were limited in what they could do, squeezed between her white silk petticoats and her silky panties, whatever colour they were in the warm darkness. He felt a slight relaxation in her grip, only so that her hands could pull extra silk into the cleft, to surround his face with her panties. She smoothed and swirled her skirts over his head, from the neck of his blouse to the bow on his crown, then pulled his face deep into the silky gusset of her panties and clamped him in place with a growl of triumph.

  The wretched victim was held immovably, in the grip of her nylon stockings. His nose was pressed into double silk, with the most intimate of female scents filling his mouth and nostrils. Again she growled, then seemed to roar with passion as she rode his face with kicks of her high heeled boots. Nat's face slithered up and down on her sex, his face clasped in her panties, until the silk gusset became damp, then wet, then squelching with female juices.

  Nat felt a relaxation in her legs, spent, most likely, with her pleasure. He jumped as he felt his skirts being thrown back, and a hard hand fell on his pantied buttocks, with Evelyn yelling at him to get out and stand up.

  He staggered to his feet, his face wet and his lungs retching for fresh air. The scents of Miss Ridge's orgasm filled his nose and mouth as he caught sight of her, her head thrown back on her armchair, her legs spread inelegantly apart.

  "Sit there," snapped his mother-in-law, almost throwing him onto the settee. "Look the other way, your hands behind your back."

  Instead of any thanks, or even recognition of the service he had performed for her friend, he found his wrists being fastened together in the tight pull of a silk scarf. "Sit round the right way, panty brain. It's time for you to be given more sissy panty training."

  "Aaargghh!" cried Miss Ridge, getting to her feet and throwing out her ruffled silk bust. "I feel better for that Evelyn." Her scornful eyes fell on the source of her orgasm as she sprayed eau de cologne on her wrists and neck. "But I'm far from satisfied miss Nancy. You had better try again later, sissy boy, and next time, I want proper, prolonged pleasure in my gusset. So see to it."

  "Y-Yes, Miss Ridge."

  "In the meantime, we had better see how you perform in sissy penis panty worship." She sat on the other side of him, so that when they turned up his skirt and petticoats, both women could handle the very hard erected front of his pink silk panties. Poor Nat. He was so vulnerable. Especially when Evelyn produced the pile of mouth-watering panties they were going to use on him. As he started to whimper, they started to chuckle, and very soon they had his throbbing penis held in one, two then three pairs of panties, all the while denying him the relief of ejaculation... as was only right for a sissy son-in-law who always fell so short of what his mistresses required of him in his panty training.

***

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