Caught in Mildred-In-Law's Web
by Silk

Spencer Vestite made a huge mistake window shopping at Mildred Milkcock's boutique.
He has to serve TWO Mothers-In-Law as a result.


  As she was arranging the blouses inside her high street boutique, Mrs Milkcock's gaze was drawn to a young man who briefly paused in front of her shop window to admire the elegant styles on display. Mildred Milkcock had seen him before - actually, quite regularly - casting furtive glances at her fashionable merchandise, while pretending to be speaking on his phone. He clearly had a soft spot for feminine fashion, yet was too bashful to look at it without blushing.

Then the boutique door opened, and in walked Mildred's daughter, Melanie. 'Hello mother. I need to talk to you,' she stated in her usual no-nonsense manner.

'Of course you do,' said Mildred, 'as I'm the one with the money, right?'

'There's no need to rub it in mother, but yes. I need a loan to start my research facility in cosmetics. It will be very profitable in the future, I can guarantee you that.'

'How big a loan, dear?'

'Something in the upper five figures, to add to my savings so far.'

'And what if I say no?' asked Mildred.

'Mother please, no games. This is serious, I can't do it without your help.'

'Well, it's a lot of money.'

'I know it is, but-'

'But,' interrupted Mildred, 'if you do something for me, I will not lend it, but give it to you.'

'Oh, mother, please be serious!' protested Melanie.

'I've never been more serious,' insisted Mildred. 'You see that young man out there?' she nodded her head towards the shop window. 'Meet him, seduce him and marry him - and I will give you the money.'

'Mother?!' Melanie shook her head in disbelief. 'Who is he? And why would I want to marry him?'

'Because I want him, and I'm already married. I want him in our family.'

'You want to dominate him, don't you, mother?' picked up Melanie.

'Don't be silly, darling,' Mildred smirked contentedly. 'I want to make him happy, that's all. He's been drooling over my shop window for weeks now - every time he passes by, always around this hour. Will you do it?'

'Hmmmm,' considered Melanie. 'I can certainly use the money, and I'm polyamorous anyway. So, yes - I'll do it, mother.'

'Splendid!' Mildred's gorgeous mature face spread into a radiant smile. 'Let me tell you my plan, darling.'

-----------


The following day, Spencer Vestite was walking along the street, approaching his favourite shop window in town, already excited about the stunning dresses and blouses he was about to glimpse. He was just in front of the shop, fiddling with his phone, when he suddenly bumped into a young woman with a splash of takeout coffee she was holding in her hand.

'Oh, I'm so sorry!' Spencer gasped. 'Are you alright?'

'Yes, I'm okay,' said Melanie, feigning surprise. 'But my outfit is ruined. I can't go to work like this.'

'I should've been more careful. I will pay for the dry-cleaning,' offered Spencer.

'Oh, there's no need, really - it was my fault, too,' Melanie reassured him. 'But I need a change of clothes. Will you please help me choose a new outfit? Please!' she looked at him imploringly.

'Er, yes - yes, of course,' agreed Spencer, and Melanie took him by the hand and entered the boutique with him.

'Good morning, sir,' Mildred was in her element, putting on a show, 'I take it you would like to buy something for your lovely wife?'

'Oh, well actually-' he started explaining, but was quickly interrupted.

'Oh dear! What happened to you, young lady?' Mildred turned her attention to Melanie, enjoying the pretense.

'I spilled my coffee, so I need a new outfit,' said Melanie. 'And my husband will choose it for me,' she winked to Spencer.

'What did you have in mind for your pretty spouse, sir? A skirt suit with a blouse, or a dress with a cardigan?'

'All of those,' said Spencer, clearly impressed by so much lady fashion. 'I mean, something suitable.'

'And how will you be paying, sir? In cash or by card?' inquired Mildred, quite curious to hear the answer.

'Er, I can't really affo- I mean, would a credit card be okay?' he looked at Melanie, perplexed. 'I'm not sure I've brought my wallet, actually.'

'Don't worry, darling,' said Melanie. 'I have enough cash in my purse,' she smiled - to Spencer's obvious relief.

As Mildred fetched a number of choice items, she handed some of them to Spencer to hold, gauging his reaction. 'How about this lovely white blouse with a pink pleated skirt?' she asked, draping the garment over Spencer's arm, which caused a stir in the front of his pants. 'Or this exquisite pink dress with a matching cropped cardigan adorned with pearls and bows?' she draped the ensemble over his other arm, giving him a full erection, which he tried to cover up.

'Actually, I think I've just seen all I need to know,' said Mildred contentedly. 'You can have both ensembles for the price of one, dear - because you're such a charming young couple!'

---------------


A few weeks later, Melanie and Spencer were married to each other, with Spencer madly in love with his gorgeous bride. The wedding was a modest and thoroughly private town hall ceremony, according to Melanie's express wishes, and Spencer had already learned by then not to question Melanie's wishes. He was looking very pretty for his elegant bride, dressed in a white tuxedo with a pink bow-tie: another wish of Melanie's, which he obediently agreed to.

Their honeymoon destination was a surprise, arranged - again - by Melanie. As newly-weds, they entered a splendid white limousine, which took them to a splendidly rich white mansion in a splendidly posh part of town.

As they exited the vehicle, they were greeted by a buxom uniformed housekeeper, Mrs Felicity Starchblouse, who saw them into a magnificent entrance hall of the opulently furnished and decorated Pussywealth House, owned by Mrs Edith Pussywealth, a woman of great influence and immense fortune.

In the middle of the hall, Mrs Starchblouse instructed Spencer to stand still, and started fitting a collar made of shiny pink leather around his neck. Spencer's eyes nervously sought Melanie's in baffled alarm, but she only smiled and blew him a kiss, distracting his judgement even more.

"There," said Mrs Starchblouse, adjusting the collar one more time, before clasping a leather leash onto it. "Now you're ready for the handover, pretty-pie!"

"Handover?" panicked Spencer. "What handover?"

"Oh that?" said Melanie casually. "It's just something you would have found in our marriage contract, had you bothered to read it before signing your name on the line."

"I don't underst-"

Spencer was interrupted in mid-sentence by the opening of the large double door from the mansion's interior - suddenly even more at a loss as the polished marble resounded with determined clicks of studded heels, and lady after lady walked into the room with perfect poise and graceful demeanor. They were all dressed to the nines, perfumed and bejeweled, and bearing themselves like queens, leaving Spencer speechless as he gasped at their superior elegance.

"On the authority vested in me by the marriage contract, I hereby pronounce the handover, as stipulated in Article 69, to be valid and imminent," enunciated Mrs Starchblouse. "Will the current owner, Melanie Milkcock, please take her matrimonial subject, Spencer Vestite, by his legally imposed leash," she handed the leather strap to Melanie, who gave Spencer a look of aloof dominance which he dreaded and strangely craved at the same time. Doing his best to keep his composure, Spencer felt a fast-growing hard-on pushing its way up his trousers, as he faced the formidable committee of some two dozen ladies, who were all observing him with a mixture of cool disdain and perverse indulgence. Their steely gazes, accompanied by their heavily affected airs of importance and vanity, almost made him glad to be leashed - kept safely out of their immediate reach; for now!

"Ahh, what is happening here?" asked Spencer of Melanie, with shy uncertainty, triggering amused laughter all over the audience.

"I'm selling you to my mother, Darling," she stated, with matter-of-fact detachment.

"What? But… I thought you loved me," he pleaded.

"Of course I love you, Spencer," said Melanie with condescending authority. "But I'm polyamorous, darling. And besides, I need to focus on my business project right now. So I'm handing you over to my mother, whom I believe you have already met," she turned to a smartly dressed curvy goddess of mature style and elegance. "Meet my mother, Spencer: Mildred Penelope Drussila Milkcock!"

"You may hand your matrimonial subject over at this time," Mrs Starchblouse gestured to Melanie, who handed the leash over to her mother - the woman in which Spencer recognised the owner of his secretly admired boutique.

He was clearly bewildered and strangely excited at the same time, breathing fast and blushing through all shades of pink his cheeks had in them.

"I declare this handover complete and valid," said Mrs Starchblouse. "Mr Spencer Poncy Vestite is henceforth officially recognized as Mrs Mildred Milkcock's decorative property, entirely subjected to her every whim and pleasure and legally obligated to obey her superior feminine will! This handover is binding, as is Mr Vestite's submissive stature of matrimonial sissification under the limitless governance of his new owner: Mrs Mildred Penelope Drussila Milkcock - in her immeasurably superior capacity of his Mother-in-Law."

By this point, and although against his will, Spencer was entirely exhilarated with the proceedings he was subjected to, feeling the firm grip of authority exuding from his new matrimonial mistress - his very own almighty Mother-in-Law, dressed like a queen, dominant to the bone and horny as fuck!!! His leash was in her hand now, as a legal document had just made her his owner, his leash handler and his sissification mistress! He was hers now - and she owned a boutique! This was real!!!!!

"At this juncture, the matrimonial contract requests Mr Vestite's second owner to approach," continued Mrs Starchblouse, introducing an unexpected twist to the handover ceremony.

"Mr Spencer Vestite, Spencer Milkcock by marriage, do behold, revere and be subjected to your SECOND Mother-in-Law - none other than the Lady of the Mansion herself: Countess Edith Eunice Primrose Pussywealth of Pussywealth House!

As Spencer's face betrayed a look befitting a confused sheep, his new owner, Mother-in-Law Mildred whispered in his ear with steely solemnity: "This is my wife, Spencer. And together, we will see to it that you are feminised, sissified, prettified, enslaved and ridden every day, hahahahahaha!!!"

As Mrs Pussywealth's face came close to Spencer's, the bulge in his pants shot up like a rocket, stiff with chickenshit obedience and excited submission!

"Count yourself lucky, Spencer Vestite," she pronounced, making every word sound like a symphony of power! "You don't have ONE but TWO Mothers-in-Law! My sweet Drussila is a fiercely dominant woman, but can be so lenient at times. Now, I am a different story altogether, my dear Sissy-in-Law! I will teach you the true meaning of the word DISCIPLINE!" she announced, drawing an applause from the excited assembly of ladies. "Under my yoke, you will be shown a life of aesthetic dictatorship and sweet sexual surfdom, hahahahaha!!" she laughed a laugh of perverse pleasure, licking her fleshy lips as she flashed him excited gazes that gave him goose bumps from head to toe. "Oh, and darling…" she added, relishing in her power over him: "Call yourself no longer Spencer Vestite, because I'm changing your name to Miss Sissy Conchita Vestita. Your forced feminisation and sissifcation, followed by your limitless submission to the combined matrimonial yoke imposed by your Mothers-in-Law begins NOW!!!"

The entire company of ladies burst into an excited, yet controlled, laughter of triumph and indulgence, filling the hall with thunderous applause.

Looking at the smirking face of Edith Pussywealth, Sissy Conchita Vestita felt a strangely exciting shudder of dread running up and down her slouching spine! Mrs Edith was a woman of towering curviness, dressed in exquisite cream silk and refined navy knit, dripping with gold buttons and multiple strings of pearls; her face bathing in her chins.

With both her Mothers-in-Law equally forceful, fussy and fierce, Sissy Conchita let out a sissified moan of submission - just before she shot her milky load all over the front of her pants, causing a sticky puddle to flow down the delicate fabric of her white pants.

"Oh for God's sake, somebody get her into a skirt already!" declared an arrogant lady from the front row, pursing her lips at Sissy Conchita mockingly.

"And somebody teach her some juicing manners!" added another lady, bursting into an animated chuckle.

"Buttplug discipline is what she needs, I'll say!" suggested a third lady, triggering a comment from her young wife: "If she were ours, I'd send her to sissy school - the old-fashioned type where they still dress them in hobble skirts and give them licking detention for no reason at all, hahaha!"

"Don't you worry, ladies," said Melanie, on her way out. "You can rest assured she will be taught every strict and dominant lesson TWICE - by her MOTHERS-in-Law! Goodbye Spencer - Hello Conchita! You didn't see this coming, did you now? Should've read the contract, darling. Enjoy life in pretty blouses, dainty dresses, flouncy skirts and sissified pink cardigans! You used to run your mouth to express every single opinion you had - talking and mansplaining, debating useless personal views, yapping like an empty-headed bimbo, really - and now you're going to become one! Hahahahahahahaha!!!"

As the entire hall full of Rich-Bitch Divas cheered at Melanie's remark, Mrs Starchblouse proclaimed the transfer ceremony successfully concluded, inviting all the ladies in the audience to line up for the traditional pussy-worship initiation!

"Here is how this works," said Mildred-in-Law to her gasping sissy-in-law. "First I'll dress you in your transfer dress and do a quick sissy-fem transformation - in front of all these sophisticated ladies, hahahahahahaha!" Her cold, bitchy laugh cut through Conchita's excited body like a frozen whip. "Then you will French-kiss the precious pussy of each and every lady present in this hall, including Mrs Starchblouse!" Conchita's eyes widened on hearing those words, and she let out a stifled moan of sissified weakness.

"Oh, and you can save those moans for tonight, darling!" added Edith-in-Law, speaking in a voice of such commanding superiority that it nearly made Conchita swoon with sissified weakness. "Because tonight, my deliciously trapped sissy, after you have been properly head-shaven and wigged, fully beautified, professionally feminised and reduced to a delightfully dumb sissy doll, whose only concern in her kept, bimbonised existence is the next shade of pink she will be wearing - that's when my dear wife, Mildred, and myself will consummate your handed-over matrimonial subjugation, taking turns with our mighty strap-ons inside that tight, virgin sissy-pussy ass of yours! At that time, you will be allowed to moan to your heart's content, like a sissy slut in the heat of FASHION!!! Hahahahahahahahaha!"

Miss Conchita Vestita swallowed, as she felt her sissy-stiffie gush its milk uncontrollably all over again. One glance at her Mothers-in-Law was enough to realise the truth about her new situation of a legally kept sissy-missy - she was fucked!!!

***

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