Jayne Forster's coffee morning could have featured on daytime television: a comfortable sofa chat between four very attractive women in their 30s and 40s, discussing an issue dear to the hearts of many wives and girlfriends: how to punish the husband who fails to satisfy his wife's sexuality. At 33, Jayne was the youngest of the group, her hair done in shoulder length blond flicks, while as hostess she wore a sleeveless, ice-blue dress in doubled satin, straight to the knee, with a simple square collar and a zirconia brooch on the shoulder. She introduced Angelina to her two guests, Eleanor and Trinny.

  "This is Angelina... from Yesterday's Man. As you will know, YM as it's known to us is one of the most influential, up-and-coming organisations catering for women like us. I just love that motto: 'Give us a husband, we'll give you an effeminate panty-rag'. She has very kindly agreed to demonstrate one of their training items for us today, and she's going to use my pathetic husband as her babified sissy.

  The others exchanged carmined smiles. There was a lot of female supremacy ahead.
"He's upstairs, probably peeing himself about having you all seeing him," Jayne continued. "I've got him wrapped in his baby sleeper, with two of my dresses fastened up around it, just to remind him who's in charge of him."

  Everyone chuckled. "Very good," smiled Angelina. "Baby clothes are all very well, but a lot of mistresses forget what power their own clothes have to reduce and confound their sissies. I often have my own husband in one of my narrow skirts, fastened closely round his neck, with the collar of his baby dress pulled out over his shoulders. It makes him very subdued."

  Angelina Frayne was 48 and a bouffant blonde, one of those women whose copious bust and low stature give the impression of a bundle of energy in female form. She sat forward on the edge of her armchair, angled towards Eleanor and Trinny on their settee.

  "Lovely," said Jayne. "Angelina is the..." and she wondered, half asking, "regional babification supervisor for Yesterday's Man?"
"That's right. At YM we have three sections: Baby, Little Girl, and Leggy Girl. My field is helping mistresses to babify their sissy, which you could say is making him any age up to three, so he could be walking but definitely in reins. After reins, he would be sissified by the Little Girl department. Leggy Girls are sissies dressed as teens or adults who have to be sissified in their everyday life."

  "I was considering having my Shelton as a teenager," enthused Eleanor, a 33-year-old schoolmistress with her hair in a neat bob. "He's only 22 and I know how cute and girlish he looks in a tight top with a bust and a micro skirt to show his panties. His legs are so feminine, you see; I thought I should be taking advantage of his girlishness. But luckily Angelina persuaded me to babify him instead."

  "Yes I did, simply because I saw immediately how he hated being diapered and put into pink plastic pants. Do you remember how he remonstrated?"
"Remonstrated?" giggled Eleanor. "Collapsed on the floor, more like. He just couldn't handle the humiliation of Angelina declaring that he would be a baby girl for as long as she was in the house. And he's been a baby girl ever since." She was in her mid 30s with her hair done in a glossy, black bob.

  "Oh lovely," laughed Trinny, who was 44 and an estate agent. "I love it when they go through that pain barrier of realisation that you are going to have them babified... and keep them like that. I love showing Jeremy to other women who will see him as a living example of male submissiveness and failure."

  "Exactly," said Angelina. "You have put your finger on the heart of the matter. By babifying these pathetic males, we show them how they are fully under our control, like a mother controlling everything for her baby. And not only that: they also see that we intend to show them in all their failure to other women who will despise them for the pathetic weaklings that they are. And that's why I want to show you the Baby Butterfly this morning."

  "Oh you'll love this," said Jayne as Angelina stood up and crouched behind her chair, coming up with a cardboard carton six feet long. Jayne moved her coffee table out of the way so that the supervisor could put the box down in the middle of the floor.
"Baby Butterfly," read Eleanor. "De Luxe dangle frame for displaying your sissy baby. Oh my, I'm feeling damp in my panties already."

  "Me too," giggled Trinny, sitting forward and spreading out the full flare of her burgundy silk skirt with a lot of rustle between her petticoats and her pink ruffled blouse. The most exciting day I've had since sissifying that fool of mine was when I took him to the Henrietta Forced Feminisation Clinic open day, and saw their sissies on display for visitors, and some of them were dangling in suspension panties and weeping their girlish little hearts out."

  They all laughed, while Angelina knelt on the carpet surrounded with lengths of tubular bars. "It's so easy to assemble," she said, slotting one pipe into another, either end-to-end or into junction sockets. "Basically it goes together as two sides of inverted Vs, two base bars twelve feet long, cushioned in rubber to protect your floor... transverse bars to stabilise the structure, and two function transversals: one for under his arms, the other for his leg loops to dangle from... that's it," she said as the others gave her a willing hand... "thank you, Eleanor... and the clever thing about the Baby Butterfly is these other two bars between the transversals, making it all so adjustable." In half a minute the frame stood in the middle of the sitting room and Trinny was slotting the final bar between two sockets above her glossy brown bangs.

  "The knee loops are in doubled satin," went on Angelina, drawing plastic bags from the box and opening them to reveal softly folded satin in a childish baby blue. "They wrap under baby's knees so that he dangles with his knees spread outside his chest. On top of the bar, these upholstered U-cushions hold his upper arms, with his hands fastened into these loops underneath them. So with his weight taken under his arms and knees, he dangles with his bottom and bits as the lowest part of him... nicely arranged for us to play with them."

  The picture she painted drew out the strong maternal feelings in the other three women. A husband dangling helplessly in sissy baby clothes, crying pitiably in front of laughing women. Their appetites were up and they couldn't wait. "Oh Jayne," cried Trinny, her crimson lips quivering as she spoke, "shall we bring in Thomas... I can't wait to see him being put into his baby frame."
"Oh yes, do!" cried Eleanor, clipping the second arm cushion onto the transverse bar that hung gently on its elastic cords beneath the top of the frame. "Bring him down and we'll all help to fasten him into it."

  Jayne was particularly excited. It was her stupid, ignorant rat of a husband who was going to be humiliated: the man who had persuaded her to marry him and had then shown her what a fool she had been. Unable to erect on their wedding night, and equally impotent on the two nights that followed. Such a flood of disappointment and grief had overwhelmed her, soon turning to hatred, that she had contacted her local branch of Wives In Distress within a week of marrying him and had enrolled on a full FemDom coaching course.

  "I'll go and get him into something suitable for a sweetie," said Jayne with a giggle as she looked back to see the others putting the final touches to his dangle frame.

  The completed structure had two twelve-foot base-bars lying parallel on the carpet, outside the settee and armchairs, with sloping uprights to a height of seven feet, none of them meeting but reaching transverse bars that created an overhead rectangle, with the elastic cords for the arm bar and the leg loops hanging towards one end. Eleanor held the arm bar and wondered if it would take her weight.

  "The design will cope with babies up to 240 pounds," chuckled Angelina, sitting down to watch, "so I don't think you have anything to worry about."

  Eleanor held the bar with her hands outside the arm cushions and slowly let her weight sag until she dangled in a flounce of mandarin silk, with her tunic top flaring in and out around her, her high heeled boots swaying on the floor and the knees of her white polyester pants hanging and bouncing in front. There wasn't a sound from the Baby Butterfly, which bent gracefully to absorb its passenger as her hand bar bounced up and down at arm's length.
"Heavens aloud," said Trinny, " it sure is strong. What's it made of?"
"Carbon fibre, with rubber sockets and satinised cushions and loops. The rubber-elastic cords carry a ten year guarantee. Notice how the vertical bars are all blue while the horizontals are all white with blue flowers. We do it in pink and white, but I use this one as my demonstrator. It has held upwards of fifty big babies, this one, in the two months since I got it."

  She stopped talking because there were sounds reaching them through the closed door from the hall: grumbly sorts of squeals, and Jayne's voice raised in annoyance. There was quite a pantomime going on out there and Eleanor and Trinny got to their feet to see if they could help, but the door opened as they got to it and they were faced with the husband in question.

  They couldn't help but burst out laughing at his appearance as he was pushed forward from behind by an angry looking Jayne. "Get in there at once, you pathetic little baby-dick," she cried at him, leaning into him from behind as he dug his heels into the hall carpet and tried to turn back the way they had come.

  He was a bundle of pink satin, with pink leather reins buckled around his chest and a big white collar almost covering them. Eleanor and Trinny caught hold of him by the arms but he slithered out of their grip and struggled against his wife as she blocked his path of escape.
"Get into the sitting room, you wimpy little nancy boy," she cried, getting her fingers round the door frame for purchase as she heaved his body forward.

  Her husband was trying to use the door as well, clasping it in two mittens of pink satin. "No, Jayne, stoppit!" he was shouting. "Don't take me in there. Don't show me to anyone like this!" Even though he was frantic, his voice was soft, but his hold kept slipping as he was pushed and pulled until he was through the door.

  Now the visitors could see that his wife had him in a one piece romper in rose pink satin, with a very high waist from which a bulbous pantaloon swelled around him, gathered into his crotch. There were two sets of pleats at the front and the back of his pantaloon, giving extra width, evidently to allow for petticoat filling or very full bloomers, while above his waist he was held in the tightly buckled harness of Jayne's reins. Down the romper ran a column of large buttons in pearled white plastic, disappearing between his bare legs. The romper collar was a large Peter Pan about six inches wide in gleaming white satin with half an inch of lace all round its edge, and a shameful little message in two words, one on his left collar, the other on his right: 'Sissy' and 'Jennifer'.

  "Oh Jayne, is that what you call him?" cried Eleanor with a laugh as she helped to pull the struggling male into the middle of the chairs.
Jayne nodded as she pushed him from behind. "Mother chose his name," she said, tickling him under his arms to make his resistance collapse. "She has sewn the name onto every one of his dresses and blouses.
"And look at his hair," giggled Eleanor. "All those lovely blond curls, like little Shirley Temple."
"Like a baby Shirley Temple," giggled Trinny, who held him by one arm while she had the fingers of her other hand inside his leather harness so that he couldn't pull away from her. "And what a gorgeous, cherubic face for a baby husband. Isn't he just a cutie little darling!"

  There was a lot of whimpering from the sissy, but when he was under the frame, Angelina lent a hand by slipping the transverse bar under one of his arms and pulling it over the cushion to get his mitten connected underneath. His voice turned more desperate.
"Jayne take me out of here... please. I don't want these women to see me in my little pinkie romper... pleeeease!"

  There was a burst of laughter all round him as Angelina got his second arm over the top and clamped the satin cuff around his wrist to clip it together. They could let go of him now and stand back as he wriggled and bounced with his arms dragged back, over and under, making his head reach forward. The sleeves of his romper were small, slightly puffed and pleated, with three pearled white buttons fastening each cuff on the outside of his arms. His lovely white collar flapped about, surrounding his face as his struggles had his upper half bouncing up and down like a yo-yo.

  "Oh stop wriggling," snapped Jayne as she stood in front of him and straightened his collar into a neat circle, "you're making yourself look perfectly ridiculous." She attended to his curls around every part of his hair, fluffing them out for everyone to see how pretty they were.
"Someone lift one of his legs," said Angelina, holding a satin loop ready.
"Jayne, pleeeeeease!" he cried as Eleanor and Trinny got one of his legs and lifted it between their busts. He had to hop on the other as the loop was slipped over his pink satin bootee and drawn up to the back of his knee.

  "Very good," declared the supervisor, taking another length of rubber elastic which dangled from his arm-bar; "now this goes over his foot and ankle like a stirrup... and there we are: his leg is crooked up like a frog's leg and out to the side. Now his other one."

  His voice was breaking as he begged for pity. " Jayne... sob... my darling... sob... I want to go back to... sob, sob... to my baby sleeper... and your dress, Jayne... sob... pleeeeease! Ooooooooooh!"

  His words disappeared as his second foot swung into the air. This time he bounced lower with no way of supporting himself. Eleanor and Trinny knew what to do to and soon his knee and leg were held out to the side. His romper pants were spread wide with his smaller white crotch buttons displayed between his legs. All three women stood and laughed when they saw the spread out effect. "Baby Butterfly!" they exclaimed, as Angelina smiled her agreement. Seeing him dangling and bouncing helplessly, there was only one thought in the minds of all four women: we can't leave those sexless sissy genitals hidden inside. It was Trinny who said it first.

  "Ahhhhh, there, there, Baby Thomas... does iddums want the nice ladies to check his diapees and make his little pee-pee nice and comfy?"

  The angle the frame forced him into had his knees dangling from outside his elbows, so that his diapered genitals were held forward for the women to explore. At the same time, his face was angled forward so that he looked down on Trinny as her fingers undid the four buttons between his legs. Eleanor undid the lowest of his big romper buttons, and the elastics of his pink romper sprang open to release a flood of white silk bloomer ruffles.

  Eleanor and Trinny burst out laughing as they watched his misery turning his face into an outburst of tears.
"Oh don't... Don't laugh at me, please," he wept, squirming between his captured arms so that he dangled and bounced as they threaded his romper higher to reveal more of his bloomers.

  "Well, you're wearing such GOR-geous baby panties, darling," cried Eleanor with a grin. "No wonder your pretty romper looked so wide and so babyish. Shall we take off your frilly panties and inspect your baby diapers for you? ... to see if Sissy Jennifer needs changing?" She turned to Angelina who was sitting watching them enjoying their baby teasing. "Can you unhook the baby's legs while he's still in the frame... for a diaper change?"

  "Oh yes," said the supervisor, standing up. "You have to release his foot elastic, like this... then his knee loop to lift his leg out of it." The sobbing husband found one of his satin bootees on the floor again and put in a flurry of struggles to try and release himself, but Angelina put a stop to that by lifting his free foot into the air so that he bounced helplessly up and down again between their skirts and dresses.

  "That's right. You'll have to hold on tightly..." and she was right, because once his second leg was unhooked, Sissy Jennifer thought he would kick and kick until they all had to let go of his legs. But his wife was lending a hand, helping Eleanor to pull his bloomers down with two women holding onto each leg. He couldn't kick with any success... couldn't get a kick into any of their waists or busts as his ruffled diapers were pulled down his legs and over his bootees. His plastic baby pants were revealed, in white with pictures of baby toys scattered all over them in pink... and his tears became a wail so that the women had to talk over him.

  "He would be easier to handle if he was pacified," said Angelina.
The hostess left her holding his leg and opened her bag to get her husband's pacifier. "Here, cry-baby. Open!"
"Oh Jayne," cried Eleanor, "what a fabulous pacifier! It must fill his mouth!"

  It was in pink plastic with a saucer six inches across, a large plastic ring in front and a teat that was narrow on the shaft and widened into a mouth filling bulb. The wailing turned to a stubborn hum as Jayne held it in front of lips that were tightly shut. A slap on the cheek took his misery up a notch, followed by another three slaps until he opened his mouth.

  "Good baby," cried Trinny as they all watched Jayne push the teat inside his mouth. When the bulb was secure, an inch of the shaft remained outside his lips, so that the disc didn't hide the fullness of his ballooned cheeks, but there were silk ribbons on either side, four or five inches deep, which his wife pulled together round his neck and fastened into a tight bow. His wailing was reduced to muffled hums and grunts, although his tears streamed from his eyes as he was faced with four grinning smiles.

  They decided to loop the baby husband's knees up again and examine his diaper at leisure, so everyone sat down after the exertions of his struggles. "Oh dear... Baby's done his wetties in his diapees," said Eleanor, her finger exploring the dissolved pictures of little girls' pink faces down the front of the pad.

  Angelina felt the bulkiness of the diaper. "He will have done it as he was being brought into the room," she said. "It's hardly warm and it's going hard. Time for the baby to be changed."

  Jayne set off to get his baby bag as Eleanor and Trinny undid his diaper tapes and pulled down the front. It was wet and heavy, and his penis perked up at his spectators making Eleanor squeal with laughter.
"Oh don't," said Trinny. "That's not fair. He can't help how small and hopeless his little penis is. And anyway," she said, cupping his face between her hands, "Sissy Jennifer is only a baby, isn't ums, lickel sweetheart?"

  Her words didn't stop Eleanor's laughter, and Trinny couldn't help laughing herself as Angelina slid the diaper out of his romper. She took his cock in her fingers, creating a wriggle of bounces as the sissy tried to evade her fingers.
"Oh dear, oh dear," giggled Eleanor, "doesn't baby like his toy cocky being played with?" She added her own fingers to Trinny's so that his cock stiffened with the fondling of their fingertips. He grizzled through his pacifier and bounced more deeply in his struggles as they watched his distress showing itself in his urgency. When Jayne came back into the room, all three of them were laughing helplessly at the way Thomas was trying to stretch his wrist and ankle elastics in a wild show of temper and despair. She sat down to watch as the girls produced a small but rigid erection.

  "It's because you're laughing at him," she explained. "He can't stand it when women laugh at the way I've babied him. Here... I'd better put his mat underneath. You could easily make him cum."
"Oh, and we don't want that, do we, babykins," giggled Eleanor. "Not yet anyway."
"Not until I say so," said Jayne. "My friends want to play with you first, you sexless, little wet-dick. Starting with giving your baby places a sponging and a baby powdering. Who's going to wash the wimp's baby dicky?"
"Me, me, me," cried Trinny, begging for the sponge, and she held the husband's penis in her fingers as she gave it a thorough sponging in all directions.

  Angelina sat forward again so that she was close to all three women. "If it's being laughed at that he's afraid of," she said, "then you've made your first important discovery. A dominatrix always needs to know her slave's greatest weakness. His area of deepest humiliation, if you like, and it looks like this panty-waist has a horror of being a laughing stock. So there's your greatest weapon, Jayne; women's laughter is your power over him."
"I'm very grateful to you, girls, for coming along today and laughing at him," replied the hostess, being serious for a moment. She passed the thick baby towel to Eleanor so that her husband was soon bouncing deeply in his pink romper with his penis and balls being thoroughly rubbed dry. "I'll have to find opportunities to get him into female company, so that he can be laughed at again and again."

  "Oh yes, as often as possible. Make him suffer. See if you can fill up your diary with ways of getting him viewed by women who want to dominate and ridicule him... not forgetting that Yesterday's Man has a wide membership for you to contact online."
"I'd love to have friends coming round every day," said Jayne, passing a fresh diaper to Trinny so that she could open it out to wrap around the weeping sissy.
"And don't forget to laugh at him yourself. He'll hate that," said Angelina. "If he loves you and values your esteem, you can really make him suffer by withdrawing any esteem you may once have given him, replacing it with scorn and contempt, and a good laugh at the helpless sissy. He is impotent, after all!"
"He sure is, the sexless wimp," grinned Jayne with a sneer on her lips. "Is there any way we can make him even more ridiculous and sexless this morning, now that we're ready to mock him and laugh at him?"

  Angelina reached into her bag and drew out a particularly large disposable. "I would start by wide-diapering him," she said, and she unfolded it bringing gasps from all three women. Their gasps turned to giggles as the sissy gurgled in a fit of horror and tried to wriggle his diapered bottom. His protests counted for nothing, though, as they soon had the first diaper completely covered in the fat, stiffened pad that bulged in a twelve-inch spread between his legs.

  "Oh how sweet for such an infantile baby and his tiny little dick," said Trinny, giggling in his face. "Look, sweetheart, there are loverly little girl bonnets all the way down the front of Jennifer's bi-i-ig diaper, for when she wets herself."

  Eleanor fussed his white satin collar in her fingers. "There, there, Sissy Jennifer," she said, "let's make baby feel very, very girly in her pretty sissy collar and then we'll be able to close her up in her panties like a proper little girl baby."

  Jayne was loving their teasing and couldn't avoid a fit of the giggles. "I think this calls for specially girlish plastic panties for Jennifer," she said, turning to Angelina, "but I don't think my little baby has a pair big enough to go over his lovely new diaper."
"Not to worry, my dear," said the supervisor, and she got up to fetch her other bag from near the door. "I always carry a couple of sets of outsized essentials for the babies I'm treating." She sat down again and considered the wretched writhing shape of Jayne's husband with his legs splayed apart. Her hands disappeared inside her voluminous bag and reappeared with a crackling pair of pink translucent plastic panties. She opened them out into a front half and a back half and the other three women couldn't wait to lend a hand by slithering them between his legs and up the back of his diaper. The front was brought up as he wheedled and whinged through his pacifier, and the elastics were pulled tight round his legs for the pop fasteners to meet up the sides.

  "What lovely girls' plastic panties, Jennifer," marvelled Eleanor as she began popping one side of his panties, while Trinny and Jayne attended to the other. "So pink and crisp for our lickel baby girly," cooed Trinny, her face only inches from his as she smiled at him in his pacifier.

  "Hmm," said Angelina, "a snug fit. I think he'd better be put into another pair," and she delved back into her bag, producing a pair in cream and pink plastic covered in dozens of little dolls.

  They all laughed uproariously as she spread them out, and watched the abject reaction of their victim as tears rolled afresh from his drooping eyes. This plastic was more supple but glossy, so that it slid with a rustle into position and the light plastic was easily wrapped up over the first pair.
"How pretty!" enthused Trinny, pressing the panty fasteners together. "How gorgeous to have little girls' dollies all around your diapers, Jennifer. Now we know you'll be feeling so girlish down here around that useless little dicky of yours."

  They laughed again as his chin sagged onto his satin collar, and his pacified face bobbed up and down as he sucked in helplessness. It seemed that everything they said to Jayne's husband made them laugh and laugh. They laughed even louder when Angelina held up the outsized panties she had as his diaper cover: in pink rayon trimmed at the legs with two rows each of ruffled white lace, and with a big picture of a garden on the front, with little girls playing amongst the flowers in antique frilly dresses and huge bonnets.

  "Oh just look, Jennifer," cried Eleanor, holding them up to him by the waist. "Look at the little girls that Sissy Jennifer will have all round his baby dicky on his beautiful panties."
"Let's put Jenny into her lovely girly panties," giggled Trinny, and they laughed so much that Jayne's sides ached as she sat and watched Angelina unhook his legs, one at a time, for the girls to slip his panties over his feet and draw them up to sit over his plastic baby pants. Angelina had to raise her voice over their laughter.

  "Just one last pair for the sissy," she said, and they all watched as she drew a mass of ruffles out of her bag. "Jennifer is so de-sexed I think she needs a fully frilled pair of chiffon baby bloomers to go over her botty and clitty. I think these will fill out the sissy's wide baby romper, Jayne, don't you?"

  His legs were unhooked again, one at a time, and he soon dangled in a cloud of ruffles in soft, white silk, hiding his lovely plastic panties from everyone's view. The girls drew down the elasticated bottoms of his romper and fastened the buttons between his legs, until soon he was completely fastened into his baby suit and dangling up and down helplessly in the middle of his audience.

  They sat back in their armchairs or on the settee, all of them inside the Baby Butterfly frame, and watched him weeping with shame under their smiling gaze. "Did I hear him asking you to put him into one of your dresses?" asked Angelina. "Well now would be the time to grant him his wish, so that we can enjoy a good laugh at how completely under your control he is."

  They all loved this idea and Trinny went with Jayne to choose a dress or two for the occasion. "We'll keep baby feeling helpless and pathetic until you get back," Eleanor laughed after them, and she and Angelina sat forward around him and stroked his bare legs or plucked his romper elastics, or fussed his lovely buttons and tickled him under his arms. When the girls returned, they had two dresses and an assortment of panties. They spread them out along the backs of the settee and chairs so that they could all decide what to put him in while he was hanging in his Baby Butterfly.

  "This is one of my favourite dresses for putting him into," said Jayne, standing in front of him and shaking out a sizzling dress in oyster pink taffeta with a drop waist that had an enormous bow at one hip and a lace collar that draped from shoulder bows. "It was the dress I was wearing when we were at a New Year's party, and it was that night that he proposed to me." There was an "Aaaahhhh" of sympathy from the other three as they turned on him and grinned. "I want him to know he's mine now: not only my obedient husband, of course, but my sissy wimp of a baby slave."
"Oh yes," cried the others, "put him into it. Make him your baby slave."

  They stood round him and the dress was put over his shoulders so that it surrounded his head, then Angelina and Eleanor unhooked one of his arms to thread it through, then the other, and the dress was slid down his body coming to rest in the crook of each hip. They giggled with delight as Jayne slowly zipped him up at the back and they all fussed and arranged her dress over his romper suit.

  "And I thought this dress would be great to keep him in his place," said Trinny, holding a little dress in yellow and red tartan check, in nylon pleats form the neck so that it spread into a huge width.
"Wonderful," said Angelina, "but where did you get such a great dress for husband dressing? It looks like it'll fall just short of covering his panties, or in his case, the crotch buttons of his romper."
Jayne covered her face with one hand as she grinned. "It's a maternity dress," she confessed; "not that I was ever pregnant, or am ever likely to be from him. It was my mother's, and she gave it to me... ever hopeful, you see. A fat chance with this effeminate panty-waist as a husband!"

  The others roared, and soon he was weeping profusely as he was lifted and unhooked for his mother-in-law's maternity dress to be fitted over his head, until he was released again, with two dresses telling him who would be in control of him for the rest of his life.

  "And I've got some of mother's panties here as well," giggled Jayne, holding up the rather large pairs of rayon full cut panties in pastel colours, "as well as my own which are, shall we say, a bit more cool." They unhooked his legs this time, picking up Angelina's knack of getting him in and out of the elastics without him having any chance of escape, and they put him into three pairs of his mother-in-law's panties, over the top of his romper but peeping from the hems of his dresses. Angelina produced another little refinement to assist with his panty control.

  "I strongly suggest we put him into a satin sun bonnet," she said, producing one in rose pink slipper satin and modelling it for the girls over one fist. It had a pretty design of satin flowers over the top, with a wide brim of doubled satin which could be worn either closed forward or opened to the sides. There were long ribbons from the front edges.

  Everyone loved it, and in no time the sissified husband was moaning and groaning through his pacifier as all four women spread folded pairs of panties round his face, so that his bonnet could go over them and cluster the panty silk all round his head. Angelina made final touches, so that the panties surrounded the lower half of his face and everyone could still see the misery in his eyes as he bucked and bounced in front of them.

  "Isn't he a pathetic, helpless little Sissy Jennifer?" laughed Eleanor, settling back to enjoy those thrilling feelings of warm dominance as she watched him struggling against the elastic cords that held his ankles and wrists.

  They all made themselves comfortable around him. "We can see whose baby he is, can't we?" giggled Eleanor, "with Mother-in-Law's panties and dress, and Mummy's panties too."

  Angelina stopped her with a hand on her arm and looked at his pacified and pantied face. "I think your sissy is accepting your complete control over his sex, Jayne," she said, and they all looked at him as he gently bobbed in a steady rhythm, until he started to cry into his pacifier, his eyes squeezed shut to try and escape his misery, while both his legs tried to straighten against their restraints.

  "He's doing it," murmured Jayne, spreading her own legs as her vagina felt a warm flow. His hands spread into stretched fingers on either side of him as he "Mmmmphhh - mmmmphhh - mmmmphhhed" into his wife's and his Mother-in-Law's panties, and all four women knew he was in the middle of learning by ejaculation who was in control of him now.