It was Christmas morning and Eric and I were both dressed as Sugar Plum Fairies, as part of some ridiculous stunt that my sister and Zoe had plotted to humilate us, while seemingly making my mother believe it was just a high-spirited jinx. On top of that, the evil pair had forced Eric and me to share a single bed, using handcuffs to ensure we spent the night in an intimate embrace. Could things get any worse?
We all trooped downstairs—two Sugar Plum Fairies, one Prince and one Cavalier. To complete the ensemble, busy in the kitchen, was Mum, dressed as Uncle Drosselmeyer. She looked Eric and me up and down, with a look of astonishment.
“Oh, my! I didn’t know your costumes were going to be so revealing. Did you, girls?”
Phoebe and Zoe both shook their heads. “No, it’s a complete shock,” lied Phoebe, suppressing a grin, “but they’ll be OK as long they don’t walk down the street looking like that.”
Mum smiled, adding, “And… and I can clearly make out the outlines of their medical devices. Sorry!! I shouldn’t be looking, but it’s hard not to.”
I nervously smiled back, trying to put her at ease.
“I hope you two don’t feel too silly dressed up as fairies,” she smiled. “It was Zoe’s idea that we should have a fancy dress theme and wear clothes of the opposite sex. Phoebe went along with it and persuaded me that you would both be good sports. I think we are all feeling very stupid, but it’s good for a laugh, isn’t it? And it’s only one day. Zoe is so creative and inventive, isn’t she Phoebe?”
“Er… yes, Mum, she is.”
“I wasn’t sure about you both having to wear a bra and panties, though,” Mum continued. “I thought that was a step too far, but Zoe said she had thought this through very carefully. The sports bras were needed to provide some shape to the torso, otherwise the leotards would look baggy, and the knickers were needed because you could hardly wear bulky boxer shorts underneath something so close fitting. I have to say that Zoe was right. Having the right undies on makes all the difference.”
“Yes, Mum,” I replied, not sure what else to say. Eric, I noticed, had gone bright pink and was saying nothing.
“I suppose this is the first time you two have ever worn female undies,” she laughed. So, Phoebe had been lying when she told me that Mum knew I wore female underwear. The little bitch!
I didn’t reply, not wishing to get a further one hundred lines from the two girls for lying. Unfortunately, Phoebe wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Aren’t you going to answer Mum, Steve?” she asked. “She asked you a question.”
Actually, Mum had not asked me a question, she had made a statement with a presumption, but now was not the time to engage in an argument about semantics with Phoebe.
“I… I have worn them before, Mum,” I replied, in a low voice.
Mum looked visibly surprised. “Oooh!… Aaaah!… Sorry! I shouldn’t be asking what you and Laura get up to in the privacy of your bedroom.” She giggled in embarrassment. “Sorry, darling!”
“No! You should ask him, Mum,” urged Phoebe, stirring up trouble.
“No, Phoebe! No, I won’t, and neither will you. It’s none of our business.” It was my turn to give a little smile to Phoebe.
oooOOooo
At 11.30 AM, Mum suggested that Eric or I should open the champagne, to celebrate Christmas.
“Eric doesn’t drink alcohol, Mum. Don’t you remember?”
“Sorry, I forgot! But not even one glass as Christmas? This is really good champagne I bought!”
“No, Mum, not even one glass.” Eric looked sheepish, but kept quiet.
“But you drink, don’t you, Steve?” Mum asked, turning to me.
Phoebe was glaring at me. She knew that Laura did not allow me to drink alcohol, and she was waiting—hoping, probably—that I would tell a lie.
“Er… no, Mum, I don’t drink nowadays. But I’ll open the bottle for you and the girls to enjoy.” Phoebe smiled. I suppose it was a win-win for her.
oooOOooo
“You two lads look tired,” commented my mother.
“Yes, I didn’t sleep well,” I replied. “Two of us in a single bed was a squash!” I felt it best not to mention the handcuffs or our state of total undress.
“What?! You two men shared a bed! That’s not right. It’s immoral. One of you should have slept on the floor.” Turning to Phoebe, she continued, “Did you know about this?”
It was Phoebe’s turn to go red, and the look she gave me sent a shiver down my spine.
“Er… sorry, Mum, I thought the floor looked too hard and uncomfortable, so I suggested they share the bed. They didn’t complain, Mum.”
“Too polite to, I imagine,” concluded my mother. “Sometimes, Phoebe, I don’t think you’ve got the brains you were born with.” Phoebe looked embarrassed, but I resisted any thought of smiling.
oooOOooo
A lot of champagne and red wine was drunk over lunch, but obviously not by me nor Eric. We stayed sober, while Mum and the girls over indulged. The meal, of course, was massive, as Christmas lunches always are.
Some games were then played but, by late afternoon, Mum, Phoebe and Zoe were asleep on the sofas. Eric and I weren’t as tired. We had both had lots to eat but had not experienced the soporific effects of the alcohol, so we sat quietly watching a film.
Then, suddenly, Zoe shot bolt upright. She looked around, and her eyes lit up when she saw that her two female companions were still dozing. “You two, follow me,” she whispered, in a no-nonsense tone.
Reluctantly, we both stood up, wondering what she had planned. She led the way upstairs, into the bedroom she was sharing with Phoebe.
“Take your tutus off,” she commanded, speaking now in a more normal voice, but still not loud.
Feeling we had no choice, we both did as she asked, leaving us both feeling even more exposed. Looking at Eric, I could clearly make out the outline of his white panties under his leotard and tights, and his chastity device left a clear impression. I knew that I must look the same.
“Arms behind your backs.”
Zoe had picked up the handcuffs that had been used to secure us the previous night and snapped them shut on our wrists, leaving us both powerless and vulnerable.
Lying beside the double bed were two pairs of panties which I correctly guessed were the ones she and Phoebe had worn the previous day. Picking them up, she thrust first one pair and then the other under Eric’s nose.
“Sniff these, and tell me which are mine and which are your mistress’s,” she demanded. “You must know her scent, Erica.”
Eric inhaled the sent from the first pair and then the second. “Er… the first pair were yours, Miss,” Eric replied.
“Oh! Clever girl,” replied Zoe, condescendingly. “Your reward is that you get to choose which pair I gag you with.”
Eric quickly assessed the situation and felt his safest option was to reply, “Miss Phoebe’s, please, Miss.”
“Faithful and loyal,” she mocked. “Open wide!”
He did so, and she balled up the flimsy garment and pushed it into his mouth. “Mouth closed!”
“You’ll have to wait, Stephanie,” she explained, as she undid her bottoms of her cavalier costume, let them slip to the floor and then stepped out of them.
She moved to be next to me, “Pull my panties down, with your teeth.” I dropped to my knees, and began to edge her underwear down over her hips. The scent of her arousal was strong, causing my penis to come alive.
“Quickly,” she urged. I eased her panties down until they were at her ankles. She kicked them off and fell back on to the bed, legs wide apart. I knew—or thought I knew—what she wanted, and I moved my head towards her glistening vulva.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she screeched.
I instantly backed away, as she sat up. She reached into her suitcase, sitting next to the bed, and extracted a black object, with straps. It took me a few seconds to work out what it was. It was a double-ended gag, with phallic-shaped protrusions on each side, one to fit into my mouth, and the other, longer one, to serve as a dildo.
Rather roughly, she shoved the shorter end into my mouth and secured the straps around the back of my head. I started gagging, as the foreign object was almost touching the back of my throat. Yet, I received no sympathy from Zoe, who just remarked, “Stop being a baby. Or maybe you need some practice with the real thing. I could ask Miss Phoebe to unlock Erica’s cage so you could suck his prick… or is it her prick?” She laughed at the confusion she was creating.
I couldn’t answer her, but the look on my face told her that I was horrified by her suggestion. She smiled, menacingly, while saying, “So you don’t find this gag too bad after all?”
She lay back again on the bed, and spread her legs. Gingerly, I approached her, aiming the dildo towards her vagina. Manipulating it was awkward, but she guided it inside her.
I started thrusting, trying my best to control my movements, making them seem natural, and knowing that I had to satisfy her. I could not taste her, but I could smell her, and my penis was as engorged as it could possibly be within the constraints of its cage.
What I was doing was very arousing, but also humiliating. I had been reduced to an object, satisfying Zoe in much the same way as if she were self-pleasuring. Yet it seemed that my actions were providing her with far greater pleasure than any toy she might do.
Very soon she was writhing and squirming. Moans were coming from her, which got louder until, suddenly, her body shook as orgasm after orgasm passed through her. I continued manipulating the dildo as well as I could while she struggled to regain her breath. Eventually, she pushed me off.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
I did so, and I glanced around. Eric witnessed the entire event and had found it exciting. The evidence was the wet stain on the front of his leotard, causing by his penis leaking precum.
Zoe had seen the wetness as well. “Disgusting and perverted,” she sneered, dismissively. “Both of you turn around and face the wall while I get dressed. I don’t want either of you leering at me.” Given what we had both witnessed, her comment made no sense, but we both knew she was in charge. When Zoe said jump, we jumped!
She had only to pull up her panties and bottoms, so it didn’t take her long.
“Right, you two! I want you back downstairs in five minutes. I’m timing you. The keys to your cuffs are on the bed. And don’t you dare say a word to Miss Phoebe about what you’ve been up to.” Her tone of voice was scathing.
With that, she left the room, shutting the door behind her. Eric and I scrabbled for the keys. It was a guess which key fitted which pair of handcuffs. I picked one up and, working behind my back, struggled to find the keyhole to unlock Eric’s restraints. Not being able to see what I was doing, and not knowing if I had the right key, it was a frustrating time, but, on about the tenth go, one cuff sprang open. I then freed him from the other.
He quickly used the other key to release me. I then unbuckled my penis gag, while he extracted his fiancée’s sodden knickers from his mouth.
“What are you going to do with those?” I asked, incredulously. “It’s all very well Zoe saying we weren’t to breathe a word to Phoebe, but she’s going to wonder why her knickers are saturated.”
“God knows what I’ll do,” he replied. I was thankful it wasn’t my problem.
We hurried downstairs to find all three women now awake and chatting. As we entered the lounge, Zoe smirked and tapped her watch, mouthing, “You’re late!” We had taken longer than five minutes.
“What have you two been up to?” asked my mother, innocently.
“Nothing!” I replied, feeling myself redden.
Out of sight of Mum, Zoe mouthed, “You’re lying!” I guessed that would be another one hundred lines added to my total.
“Hmmm…” said Mum, looking perplexed. Luckily, she didn’t pursue her enquiries. “Why don’t you two go and make a big pot of tea. I really need a drink.”
“I think we’re all gagging for it,” laughed Zoe, piercing us with an icy stare.
oooOOooo
The rest of the evening was spent watching television or playing board games. At 10.30, my mother announced she was going to bed but, as the previous night, it was another hour before the rest of us followed. And, as before, Mum was gently snoring as we passed her bedroom door.
All four of us went into my old bedroom, with its single bed. My sister looked unhappy. “Sadly,” she quietly remarked, “Mum’s insisting one of you sleeps on the floor, so you’re denied one another’s intimate company. Sorry about that!”
“Hang on,” whispered Zoe. “Your Mum’s sound asleep, so how will she know where they sleep? As long as they don’t create a rumpus and as long as we wake them up early in the morning, they should be fine, sleeping together.” Looking at Eric and me, she added, “It’d be a shame to deny them each other’s company.”
“Hmmm… I’m really not sure,” replied Phoebe. “Anyhow, it would be boring doing the same thing two nights running.”
“Well, yes, it would… but… but I’ve got an idea.” Zoe then put an arm around my sister’s shoulder and manoeuvred her so the pair had their backs to us. There followed a hushed conversation between the two of them, little of which I could understand, but I sensed that Phoebe was slowly buying into whatever Zoe was suggesting.
After a while, they swivelled around to face us. Zoe was again in charge. “Why aren’t you two morons undressed? Come on! We don’t have all night. Everything off.”
Eric and I had no option to strip as Zoe watched and Phoebe went off to her bedroom. As I suspected, our sports bras were impossible to remove without Eric and I helping one another, which amused Zoe. “Real girls don’t have that trouble,” she hissed.
By now, Phoebe had returned, carrying the handcuffs. From a chain around her neck she produced a key—the key to Eric’s chastity device. “You’re always complaining you don’t get enough hard-ons, so you can spend the night having them.”
“But,” interjected Zoe, “your mistress is already punishing you for your behaviour last night, Erica, with a further week added to your lock-up time. Therefore, you’re going to be in big, big trouble if you cum. And we’ll know if you have because there will be stains on the bedclothes.” She was almost dribbling with excitement.
Phoebe unlocked Eric’s cage and pulled it off. Immediately, his penis went hard and stiff. I knew that this was down to the humiliation he was feeling, along with being denied erections by his fiancée—I was sure he felt no attraction towards me, as I felt none towards him. Nevertheless, it was inevitable that the two girls would seize the opportunity to humiliate him further.
“So you do fancy, Stephanie?” mocked Zoe. “I knew it, Phoebe! You’re marrying a gay!”
“Bisexual might be the better term,” Phoebe cooly replied, not that Eric agreed, but he wisely decided to maintain silence.
Zoe took command again, handcuffing my wrists behind my back. She then made Eric stand facing my back, with his erection in my bum crack and within easy touching distance of my fingers. He had to wrap his arms around my front where they were pinioned in place. Once more, we were firmly locked together, but in an even more intimate and embarrassing configuration than the previous night.
The girls got us into bed and covered us with the duvet. “If we hear a single word from either of you, you will both be punished—very severely punished!” explained Zoe, and we had no doubt she meant it.
To say we spent an uncomfortable night was an understatement. Even when Eric wasn’t erect, his penis was nuzzled into my crack. And if I inadvertently touched his sleeping willy, it always set off a chain reaction, leading to another full-blown erection. Despite thinking I had no gay tendencies, I still found the situation very erotic, but I was relieved that Eric had been warned not to ejaculate.
oooOOooo
We both had a disturbed night but were deep asleep when the two girls came into our room to wake us.
“Wake up, you perverts,” hissed Zoe, shaking out shoulders. Both she and Phoebe were dressed in voluminous fluffy bathrobes that revealed nothing about their figures.
Phoebe pulled back the duvet and undid our handcuffs. “Stand at the side of the bed,” she instructed, as she examined the bedding for any signs that Eric may have ejaculated during the night, against orders. I could see there were precum stains, probably from both of us, but no semen residues. If Phoebe was disappointed to find he had been obedient, she was careful not to show it.
Eric, though, now standing alongside the bed, had a full-blown erection which he attempted to cover with his hands, until Phoebe instructed him to put his hands on his head. Zoe couldn’t take her eyes off the size of his manhood, and Phoebe seemed unbothered by the attention her friend was showing, or by Eric’s obvious embarrassment.
However, turning to me, Phoebe said, “What are you waiting for, moron, go and get showered! And be quick about it.”
I hurried to the bathroom and wasted no time shaving and showering, and brushing my teeth. When I returned to the bathroom, Eric still had his hands on his head but now his erection was gone and his penis was once more locked into its cage. There was nothing about his facial expression to suggest that Phoebe had given him any sexual…
