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Geraldine Sweetly grinned at her old school-friend and took hold of the handle of her closet. "Listen," she said. "Can you hear his pathetic warbling?" |
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Persuaded In Her Wardrobe by Prim
Geraldine Sweetly grinned at her old school-friend and took hold of the handle of her closet. "Listen," she said. "Can you hear his pathetic warbling?"
Florence Robinson held her breath. "Oh my God, Gerry. What's he doing inside your closet?"
Geraldine burst out laughing. "Do you mean 'Why is he in my closet?' or 'What's he doing while he's in there?'
They both had a good laugh, until Geraldine put her hand on her friends arm and made her focus. She turned the handle and drew one of the doors open.
"Mmm" Mmmmm! Mphhh!" Her son-in-law's voice was hopelessly muffled and indistinct. Then Florence made out that he was suspended amongst the clothes.
"For heaven's sake, Gerry, is his head inside your blouses?"
Three blouses hung on the inside of the closet door, and it was clear to see that they contained Peter Pleating's head, buttoned at the front and back of his neck, with the result that Geraldine had to unbutton him before she could open the door right back.
Then the two women had a most rewarding view of the occupant of the dress wardrobe. Small glimpses of bare flesh could be seen between wafting folds and billowing sleeves of one dress or another, with blouses and skirts adding their pervasive influence as well. His miserable face was strapped into a face covering gag of black leather.
"Hello Penny," cried his Mother-In-Law. "Florence wanted to see how you're progressing. She wants to know if you are becoming more feminine and weak and pretty, since you are surrounded in my silken clothes for so many hours of the day."
"My goodness, Gerry, how long do you keep him locked up amongst your dresses like this?"
"Six hours a day, darling. First we tie Penny's arms behind him, don't we, my sweet thing? I call him Penny. Penny Pleating has a nice effeminate sound to it. Then we hang him up like this on his specially reinforced hook. Then I wrap some of my blouses round his naughty boy cock, before tying his legs together to keep them in place. I want him to fill my nice blouses with all that ex-male surrender. So sticky, Florence," and she laughed again.
Florence watched the gagged face as it blushed and hung in despair. "I'm surprised he has any manhood left, Gerry," she said.
"Well he hasn't really. When I let him out in the evening, he just wants me to dress him." She drew the door in a bit, arranged the inner blouse round his head and buttoned it up around his neck, followed by the two others over it. After Florence had played with his blousey cock for a few minutes, the women closed the door and locked him up again to the sound of sissy moaning and the rustle of deep silky dresses.
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