Clean my shoes and stockings, dearest !

My husband, Edward and I have been married for almost three years. At our
engagement, our friends all said we were absolutely made for each other. He
is tall, dark and ruggedly handsome and I am, I’m often told, not
unattractive. Both from good schools and good families with a few vague
remnants of old money, it was obvious we were a perfect match.

I am a junior solicitor at a small legal firm in the city while Edward is an
accountant at a prestigious firm across town. From our small flat in the
city, we enjoy all London has to offer with its fine restaurants and

We are both competitive and enjoy our particular sports. Edward plays squash
twice a week, once in competition and the other with friends from his
office. I love netball and play in a good team once a week and train one
other night. I am not tall but I’m fast so I’m particularly suited for the
position of Goal Attack. Our commitment to our sports and our business made
it difficult to see each other every night but our relationship continued to
flourish. Or, so I thought. Later, I realised that he wasn’t as committed to
his squash as I had thought.

“Julia,” my friend Cynthia said. “There’s something I must tell you.” We
were having lunch and enjoying gossip with a fine wine. She looked very

“Of course,” I said, as I knew she had been having trouble with her husband
William and expected news of a pending divorce.

Cynthia sipped her wine, took a deep breath and it rushed out. “Edward is
having an affair!”

I was stunned, frozen with my wineglass near my lips. “I beg your pardon?” I

“I’m sorry, Julia,” she said, concerned. “I had to tell you.”



I should have known. Amanda was his young secretary and a stunning woman. I
started to cry and Cynthia held my hand on the crisp tablecloth until the
sobbing subsided. “Are you sure?” I squeaked, drying my eyes with my

Cynthia nodded. “Yes,” she said sombrely. “There’s no doubt. Barbara Mellows
heard Amanda talking about it.”

I suppose, as a solicitor, I should have approached the confrontation with
Edward with detailed planning and preparation but I didn’t. Although I was
hurt and betrayed, I still loved him deeply.

“Julia,” he cried when I confronted him. “She meant nothing to me. Nothing!
It was just sex.”
That hurt because it reminded me that our glorious love making of the past
had also deteriorated into `just sex’.

I burst into tears but pushed him away when he tried to comfort me. “I’m so
sorry, Julia,” he murmured. “So sorry.”

“Sorry I found out, is what you mean” I sniffed.

“I wanted to tell you but I didn’t know how! It’s over, anyway. I love you
Jules,” he said and I felt a rush of affection for the big oaf as he stared
at me with those puppy dog eyes.

“It certainly is,” I said icily. “You can sleep in the study.”

For the next few days, I wrestled with the problem until the solution, so
blindingly simple, hit me. “Get me Jasmine Getner, please,” I said to Wendy,
my secretary.

“The prostitute, Mrs Harrison?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Our client, Wendy,” I reminded her. “And one that pays on time, too. That’s
pretty rare these days.”

My conversation with Jasmine was enlightening and, at some points, shocking.
Feeling like a naive schoolgirl, I admitted to Jasmine that I had no idea
that men masturbated as much as she claimed.

“Believe me, they do, Mrs Harrison,” she said. “They’re constantly thinking
about sex and it becomes easier to wank off in the bathroom rather than
spend the time to seduce their wives or girlfriends. And that includes
you’re husband.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“All husbands, Mrs Harrison,” she said firmly.

“So,” I said meekly, “you think my idea is suitable?”

Jasmine tilted her head back and roared with laughter. “Mrs Harrison,” she
laughed. “I think you are one devious woman. I’m glad you’re my solicitor.”

I cleared my throat. “Ah, it’s just that I don’t know how to go about it.”

Jasmine winked broadly. “I think I can help you there. You’ve come to the
right place.”

Edward had started drinking heavily after dinner since I began playing the
ice queen and he was snoring loudly when I ventured into the study late the
next night. Armed with a penlight I hadn’t used since Girl Guides and a tape
measure, I stifled my giggles as I surreptitiously measured his vital
statistics. He snored through the whole event.

He approached me a few days later. “Julia, darling, we have to talk,” he
said. “We can’t go on like this.”

I put my copy of `Country Life’ on the table and placed my teacup on its
saucer. “Absolutely correct, Edward,” I said stonily. “It certainly can not
go on like this.”

“Can’t we begin again?” he implored. “I love you so much.”

“You’ve betrayed me, Edward.”

“I won’t betray you again,” he cried. “I’ve learnt my lesson.”

“How do I know that?”

That stopped him. “I don’t know,” he said miserably. “I wish it hadn’t
happened,” he said fiercely.

“But it did.” At my remark, he hung his head and his shoulders slumped. I
felt so sorry for him but I forced myself to be strong, to go forward. “I
have a way,” I said after a long silence and his face brightened.

“Yes? What?”

“You wear this,” I said, retrieving the chastity device from my handbag and
placing it on the table with a dainty flourish.

“What the Dickens is that?” he said but I could see he suddenly realised
what it was.

“It’s a chastity belt, darling,” I said brightly. “Your thing goes in this
tube and I lock this around your, you know, balls,” I said blushing. “I lock
it all shut with this special key.”

“My God,” he exclaimed. “Where did you get that from?”

“A client assisted me,” I said airily. “Don’t you see, darling, this is a
way I can begin to trust you again,” I said earnestly.

“How long would I have to wear it?” he asked warily.

“As long as I say, darling,” I said firmly. “And it will really be up to me.
No asking me to take it off, either. It comes off when I decide.”

“I don’t know. It seems rather archaic.”

“It’s the only way,” I said coldly. “It’s up to you,” I added as I picked up
my magazine.

It took a moment but he relented. “Oh, all right,” he muttered. “If it’s the
only way.”

I smiled at him as I lowered the magazine. “It is, I’m afraid. Now, go and
have a quick cold shower.”

“Cold shower? What ever for?’

“You know,” I said, flushing again. “So your thing will shrink. It’s going
to be a tight fit.” He strode off to the bathroom muttering under his breath
and I let out a huge sigh of relief. I don’t know what I would have done if
he had refused, as I knew, deep down, I couldn’t leave him, as I loved him
so much.

With his cock safely locked, we ignored the device for the next two days as
we went about our normal business. In fact, due to our commitments, I didn’t
see him much at all during those days. On the evening of third day, he was
so solicitous to my every need that I knew his lack of orgasm was starting
to tell on him. I had no idea that constant orgasms were so important to
men. We all live and learn.

As he poured a glass of wine for me, I leaned forward slightly so he could
look down my blouse at my cleavage and was rewarded with a slight groan from
him. I felt wonderful to be an object of desire once again.

“Julia,” he began nervously as he sat down. “When will you take it off?”

We both knew what `it’ referred to. “When I decide,” I said sipping the

“I have to pee sitting down,” he said weakly and I smiled.

“So do I, darling. What does it matter?”

“Please, Julia,” he blurted out. “Take it off. I want to make love to you.”

“You’re not to ask,” I said firmly. “I told you that. Just for that, you’ve
earned another week,” I said sweetly.

His eyes widened in shock. “Julia,” he demanded. “Take this thing off now!”

I smiled and stood next to him, knowing I was wearing his favourite perfume
and the aroma was sweeping around him. “You can’t demand anything, darling,”
I said, lightly stroking his gorgeous hair.

He pushed me away and bolted to his feet, glaring down at me. “I’ll find the
key,” he shouted. “Even if I have to tear this place apart!”

I walked around the table, picked my wineglass up and sat down on the sofa
near the fire. “If you must, darling,” I said. “But you won’t find it. It’s
not here.” I enjoyed the look on his stricken face as the realisation of his
condition sunk in. “It’s in a safe place,” I said softly. “And I decide when
I bring it home and I decide when it’s used. Every time you ask or even beg,
Edward, I’ll add three days onto the sentence I have in my mind. Only I will
know what the sentence is. Your task is to please me. Now,” I said holding
out my empty glass, inwardly shocked at my boldness. “Be a darling and pour
me some more wine.”

Sulkily, he retrieved the bottle and filled my glass as I smiled up at him.
He was so handsome in his white shirt and business suit. “But, Julia,” he
whined. “How will we make love? You love sex,” he added shrewdly and he was
right, I certainly did enjoy it. However, I hadn’t had this delicious
feeling caused by prolonged foreplay for a long time and I was going to
relish it.

“There are other ways, darling,” I said slyly, standing next to him. “Now,
you clean up the dishes and I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”

Sometime later, he warily came into the bedroom to find me reclining naked
on the bed, propped up by our luxurious pillows. The bed linen was crisp
linen and felt wonderful against my bare skin. I knew I was wet and I
realised I was enjoying his predicament more than I could ever have

His eyes hungrily drank me in and I just had to see his poor cock struggling
in its metal tube. “Take your clothes off,” I said, more an order than a
request and I enjoyed a tantalising tremor as he did what I commanded. The
part of his cock that was still visible in the steel tube was red and, I
imagined, painful. I patted the bed and he sat next to me. “Kiss me,” I
demanded and his soft lips caressed mine as we hungrily kissed in the way we
used to before we were married.

Knowing the kissing would go on for as long as I wanted was a thrill and
knowing I didn’t have to take care of his needs was an even bigger one. My
own needs became urgent.

“Please me, darling,” I said breathlessly pushing his head to my pussy and
amazed at how blatant and wanton I had become. And please me he did. My
pussy was his whole world; his entire focus and I languished in his
delightful tongue. I love cunnilingus and, in the early days of our
relationship, Edward had professed to love it too. However, his interest
waned after we were married and he was more interested in the two `Fs,
fellatio and fucking. Now, his interest had returned and we were making love
instead of simply fucking.

I revelled in my orgasms and I savoured every sensation as they rolled over
me. It had been a long time since I had more than one orgasm when enjoying
sex, let alone two from cunnilingus. Sated, I stretched languidly like a cat
and gently pushed his head away from my now sensitive pussy. “Thank you,
darling,” I whispered, looking deep into his large brown eyes. “That was

I watched the emotions flash across his face. Firstly, hope that I would
take pity on him and then defeat as he realised the key wasn’t near so there
was no hope of release that night. “Did I please you?” he asked hopefully,
his lips slick from my juices, and I gently kissed him on his nose.

“Yes, my darling,” I smiled. “You did.” A strange show of pride flickered
across his rugged face and I glanced down at his red confined cock. “Now,” I
said. “Come to bed.” It was a wonderful feeling to fall asleep in the arms
of my strong but captive husband.

I was surprised when I received my morning cup of tea in bed on a tray with
the newspaper and a single rose. So romantic and so sweet as he rushed
around getting breakfast ready for me with an earnest look on his face. On
my way to the bathroom, I stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you
darling,” I whispered. “So sweet.” I lightly patted his confined cock,
enjoyed a long shower and a light breakfast. Leaving the dishes to Edward, I
rushed to the office and spent the morning in court.

And so it went on for another glorious week. Edward treated me like a queen
and I enjoyed every wonderful moment. He was becoming so adept at massaging
and licking me that I came to expect it every night. One morning remembering
the orgasms from the night before as I applied my make up, I giggled at the
reflection of he salacious woman I had become.

Deep down, I did understand it wasn’t as pleasant for Edward as he struggled
with his increasing frustration. I must admit I enjoyed teasing him a little
more each day by walking around in my underwear, adjusting my pantyhose and
bra in front of him. I would smile to myself when I heard his little sighs.

Things were progressing nicely and I wondered if I would ever make the
decision to let him go free. Did I really need his cock, I wondered when his
tongue was so pleasing?

It had been an exciting two weeks I thought to myself as I entered my
favourite restaurant. It was lunchtime and the restaurant was full.

“Good afternoon, Mrs Harrison. Your guest has arrived.” I followed the
waiter to the table and smiled as my guest looked up at me nervously.

“Hello, Amanda,” I said evenly as I sat down.

“Mrs Harrison,” she replied in that annoying Australian accent.

“How are you?” I inquired. “Well, I hope?”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Can we get to the point?”

“Point?” I said innocently, signalling to the waiter to bring my favourite
red wine. As he poured it, I pointed at the bottle. “A fine South Australian
wine, Amanda,” I said

“Great,” she snapped. “Look, Mrs Harrison, I’m sorry about all of this but
it was just one of those things. I’ve had two weeks off looking for a new
job so you don’t have to worry. I’ll leave him alone when I go back to the
office tomorrow.”

“I’m not worried at all,” I said as I sipped the wine. Glorious taste, I
thought as I let it swirl around my mouth.

“It was a fling. Nothing more,” she said.

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow and she swigged on the wine.

“Well,” she admitted. “I wanted more but he wouldn’t leave you.” She looked
up at me. “You should know that,” she said and I felt a rush of affection
for Edward. . We took a moment to order and she looked steadily at me as she
handed the menu to the waiter “So,” she said sipping at her wine this time
instead of gulping. “What do you want?”

“Want? Nothing? I want to get to know you and find out why my husband found
you so irresistible.”

Amanda laughed knowingly. “Legs,” she said, lowering her voice as she looked
around the restaurant, her beautiful face flushed from the wine. “You know
he’s got a leg fetish?’ she confided.

I had no idea what she meant. “Ah, well, of course,” I said, smiling at the
waiter as he filled my wineglass.

Amanda gaped at me. “You had no idea,” she said, amazed.

Shrugging, I toyed with my knife and fork. “Of course I know that all men
find women’s legs attractive and that there are various kinds of
attractiveness or, should I say, various degrees of attractiveness,” I said,
tailing off under her bemused gaze.

“He just loves women’s legs. Legs in stockings, high heels, pantyhose,
whatever. A glimpse and it gets him hard,” she said, tapping the side of her
nose knowingly. “He can’t help himself.”

“You don’t say.”

“I do say!” she laughed. “Mrs Harrison,” she began but I cut her short.

“Julia, please,” I insisted.

She smiled gratefully. “Julia, show him a bit of stocking and it drives him
wild.” The waiters arrived with our salads and we sat giggling together like
schoolgirls until they left. Amanda became serious. “So, Julia, you want me
to leave the office?”

“No reason for that,” I said mildly.

“But, what if, you know…” she tailed off.

“You drive him wild with your stockings?” I finished, giggling. “He won’t be
able to do anything about it now, Amanda.”

She appeared puzzled. “Julia, I don’t know what he’s promised you but I know

“I’ve put him in a chastity belt,” I announced calmly and she dropped her
knife with a clatter, her mouth hanging open.


“I think you heard, my dear,” I said, sipping some more wine. “You can flash
your stockings as much as you like, he won’t be able to do anything about it
no matter how aroused he gets. You see,” I said, leaning forward in
conspiracy. “He can’t get his thing hard.” I think everyone in the
restaurant turned to look at Amanda as she shrieked with laughter for what
seemed like ages.

“Julia,” she said when she finally calmed down. “I think I’m going to like

“I’m glad,” I murmured. “I think you can teach me a few things about men.”

“I think I might be able to learn one or two things from you,” she said,
erupting in a fit of giggles once again.

A few nights later I slowly crossed my legs as Edward served my coffee. I
smiled to myself as he gaped at the expanse of black nylon revealed by the
short skirt and the flash of lace stocking tops. “Thank you, darling,” I
said as I accepted the cup from his shaking hand. “Anything wrong?”

“Stockings,” he grunted in anguish. “You’re wearing stockings.”

“Yes,” I said sweetly, daintily letting my skirt roll up to completely
reveal the stocking tops and suspenders. “I’m told it’s the latest fashion.
Do you like them?”

“Yes,” he muttered and busied himself with clearing the cups. I finished my
coffee, stood and walked to the bedroom door, my panties beginning to become
wet. “I’ll wait for you, darling. And, seeing you like the stockings so
much, I’ll leave them on.” He made a guttural sound as I vanished into the

Lying on the bed dressed only in the suspender belt and stockings, I waited
for my controlled husband. Slowly, he walked in, naked with his head bowed
and his cock red and painful in its metal tube. We or rather I, had decided
a few days ago that he should undress in the study present himself naked so
he had to walk through the flat nude as he went to service his wife.

He sat on the side of the bed, holding his head in his hands. Suddenly, he
started sobbing and I watched as the tears rolled down his face and his huge
hairy chest heaved.

“There, there,” I cooed as I cradled him against my bare breasts and my
nylon covered legs rubbing against his body. “What’s wrong, darling?” I
asked innocently.

“I can’t stand it,” he sobbed. “Please, Julia, I’m begging you. I’ll know
you’ll punish me for asking but if you love me, please,” he cried, “please
give me relief!”

“But darling,” I protested. “You’ve been doing so well.”

“You keep teasing me!” he accused. “And that bitch Amanda keeps flashing her
stockings at me. And now, you’re wearing them! Please, Julia,” he begged.
“I’ll do anything.”


“Anything! Anything at all! Please.”

“All right, darling,” I said and he looked up at with hope spreading over
his tear stained face. “Tonight was going to be the night,” I lied and his
face fell. “But you do know the rules so I’m going to add a further three
days. That means Saturday night will be the night. If,” I added, “you please
me really well over those days.”

“Of course,” he cried and hugged me.

Smiling, I lay back on the pillows and spread my legs. “Well, darling?” I
purred and he began his nightly task with gusto. Life really was wonderful.
And it continued to be so over the next three days.

We enjoyed a wonderful meal on Saturday night at our favourite restaurant
and Edward had been hypnotised by the flash of my stocking tops and my nylon
covered ankles all evening. I took the opportunity to lean against him many
times so he could feel my soft flesh through my clothes as well as caressing
his leg with my stocking covered toes.

By the time we arrived at the flat, he was trembling with anticipation. “Get
me a nightcap, darling,” I said softly. “And then get naked.” His hand was
shaking as he handed me my drink and I sat on the sofa waiting, sipping it.

He rushed back into the room, an eager look on his handsome face. “There’s
an old Harrods box at the bottom of my wardrobe. Get it, please.” Again, he
was gone with a rush, returning quickly. “Open it.”

A puzzled look appeared on his face as he studied the contents and I smiled
to myself. “The manacles lock on your feet, darling,” I said. He opened his
mouth to say something but stopped quickly and locked the manacles around
his ankles. “Walk for me,” I requested and he hobbled around the room.
“Perfect,” I said. “Take the collar and the wrist manacle and put it on. The
wrist manacle goes on your left hand.”

Hobbled, with only one hand free, he stood trembling in the centre of the
room, completely under my control. “Come here,” I ordered and he was
entranced as I removed his chastity device. Immediately, his cock sprang to
full attention. “Now, kneel in front of me.” Edward complied and I slowly
allowed my legs to fall apart as I slid my skirt up around my thighs. He
licked his suddenly dry lips as he stared at my black stockings, suspender
belt and very wet black lace panties.

“Do you like that, darling?” I whispered.

“Yes,” he croaked.

“You’ve been a good boy. Do you want to cum?”

“Please,” he whispered. “Please.”

“You did say you would do anything,” I reminded him and he nodded
vigorously. “I’m going to let you play with yourself, darling. Until you
spurt. I don’t think it will take long,” I giggled.

“But,” he protested, still staring at my panties. “I want to make love,
Julia. It’s been so long,” he moaned.

“But I don’t want to, darling,” I said sweetly. “I quite enjoy the way
things are. This is your only opportunity,” I said firmly. “Get on with it.”
He looked so downcast that I felt a tinge of regret but it suddenly passed
at the memory of the wonderful events of the past two weeks. “If you like,
you can stare at my stockings and panties while you do it,” I said softly.
“Even kiss them, if you like,” I added.

Sighing, he gripped his rampart cock with his free hand and, trembling and
shaking, he started to pull it while staring fixedly at my crotch. After a
moment, he leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against my stocking covered
thigh while I tousled his hair with my fingers.

I was right, it didn’t take long and I giggled as his face contorted and
grunting and groaning he spurted a huge load of cum over my shoes and
ankles. He always did look sweet when he orgasmed.

I wrinkled my nose. “You’ve made a bit of a mess, darling,” I giggled and he
blushed furiously. I took some tissues from the box on the coffee table and
handed them to him. “Clean my shoes and stockings, dearest.”

He wiped his cum off my shoes and ankles slowly, head bowed at his task.
After a moment, he raised his eyes to look at me. “What now?” he asked in a
monotone as if he all ready knew the answer.

“Why, darling,” I said brightly. “You put the chastity tube back on. You
see,” I confided. “I prefer you this way. It’s so much nicer.” I adjusted my
skirt and my stockings disappeared from his view. “Now, get a washcloth so I
can clean you up before I put it back on.”

Sullenly, he stared at me, resentment in his eyes. “Let me explain,” I said
calmly. “A messenger will arrive soon with the keys for the manacles. He
will only give those keys to me. Those are his strict instructions. I will
not accept those keys, darling, unless I can give him the key to your
chastity tube to deposit for me.”

He slowly hobbled to the bathroom and I noticed his face was wet from tears
as he handed me the washcloth. I wiped him clean as he stood there with his
head hanging and locked his flaccid cock into its confinement just as the
doorbell rang. Slipping the key into an envelope, I handed it to the
messenger and took an envelope in return. Shutting the door, I tossed the
envelope to Edward.

“Unlock your manacles,” I said, undoing my skirt as I walked towards the
bedroom. Standing against the door in my stockings, suspenders and the
skirt draped over my shoulder, I smiled at my captive husband. “The bedroom,
darling,” I commanded. “I believe Mrs Harrison requires your urgent