by John Douglas - Illustration by Stanton
He had picked out her clothes for the evening, an extra tight pink spandex mini-dress, matching four-inch pumps, and a pair of split-crotch, sheer black pantyhose with thin seams up the legs. Tim finished laying out the clothes when he heard Sheila enter the bedroom, her heels clicking on the floor as she disrobed on her way to the bath he had prepared for her.
After her bath Sheila returned to the bedroom and took a seat on the bed where her attire waited. "These will be satisfactory," she said rather coldly as she quickly examined the ensemble. "I take it you've been a good boy today, Tim," she continued, her eyes drawn to the bulge in his pants.
"Yes, Sheila," he meekly replied. "I haven't touched myself at all today."
"That's very good. How long has it been now?" she teased him.
‘A week."
"A week? Has it been that long? Well," Sheila sighed, "time just seems to fly, doesn't it? Remind me," she went on, "just what was it you did to deserve such a cruel punishment?"
Tim said nothing. He knew Sheila was just playing with him and saying the wrong thing could mean another week - or more - without the relief he so desperately needed.
"Oh, now I remember," she taunted him with a wicked smile. "It was the pantyhose I was going to wear to the club last Thursday, wasn't it? You got so excited while you were getting me dressed you shot off all over them, didn't you?"
"Yes," he shamefully acknowledged, bowing his head.
"Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. I mean what would the other girls think of me if I showed up at the club with cure stains on my brand-new pantyhose? No. That just wouldn't do at all."
Sheila watched Tim, his eyes turned downward, unable to look her in the face. She knew more than anything he wanted to luck her, or at least jack himself off and get some relief. And she knew he thought his punishment was the result of his "accident" the prior week. And that's just what Sheila wanted him to think.
Of course, she knew that Tim would soon discover the real reason for his punishment. That's because Tim, though he didn't know it yet, was finally getting his biggest wish - to join Sheila at the weekly meeting of the hosiery club.
"Now help me get dressed," Sheila commanded, stretching her shapely legs out and pointing her dainty toes in Tim's direction. Tim grabbed the sheer hose offthe bed and slowly slid them up Sheila's legs, his hands sliding longingly up her well-turned calves and silkened thighs. As Tim secured the reinforced waistband over Sheila's flaring hips and washboard belly, her nylon clad foot "accidentally" brushed the growing bulge pushing out at the crotch of his pants. Sheila smiled to herself, well aware of Tim's anguish and frustration as he grabbed the pink pumps and slid them on her feet.
Sheila casually examined her hose wrapped legs, running her hands over silky thighs and spreading her legs, giving Tim a bird's eye view of her neatly manicured hush which was framed by the gap in the crotch of her hose. "Now the dress," she said, rising to her feet.
With Tim's aid, Sheila pulled the tight dress on, smoothing the shiny pink material over her voluptuous breasts and taut buns. Sheila moved to a nearby mirror, admiring the way her hardening nipples speared through the sexy fabric and the way it pulled tight across her ass, barely covering her globular cheeks.
While Sheila admired herself, Tim pulled a pair of waist-high nylon panties from a nearby bureau and handed them to her.
"I think I'll pass," she told him, leaning over slightly to watch the hem of her dress rise up over her derrière,
exposing a delectable shot of her pantyhose-encased ass.
"Why don't you put them on," she teased as Tim watched longingly while she continued to admire herself in the mirror.
For a moment Tim just stared at Sheila, ogling his sexy wife and her shapely form. "Go ahead!" she commanded. "Put them on. You'll need them for tonight. That's right. Your fondest wish is going to come true. I've decided to take you with me to the club tonight."
Tim immediately perked up. "Really?" he asked, fearing that this might be just another one of Sheila's taunts.
"Really," she replied. "But there's a catch. You're not to speak unless spoken to. And you'll do whatever's asked of you. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he said. "I understand."
"Good. Now put on the panties and then we'll be off."
Tim was quick to comply, and in short order he was wearing Sheila's satiny panties beneath his slacks, and he and Sheila were on their way to a night neither would soon forget.
The two arrived at the club which, much to Tim's surprise, turned out to be in a warehouse-like building in an industrial area of town. Once inside Sheila and Tim found themselves in a large lobby milling with a crowd of ladies both old and young.
Tim took in the eclectic crowd, his attentions drawn to a group of young "rockers" in micro-minis and heels.
Elsewhere was a scattering of housewives in knee-length skirts, business women in conservative attire, and even a few older ladies with skirts down to their heels.
But for all the variety, Tim noticed two things. One, all the ladies were wearing dresses; two, he was the only man around. After a few minutes a tall brunette dressed in a tight black leather skirt, stockings, and super high heels with thin spaghetti straps approached him and Sheila.
"Good evening Sheila," the brunette said, ignoring Tim. "I see you've brought company."
"Yes," Sheila intoned to the brunette. "I've informed him of the rules. I don't think you'll have any trouble with him." Then Sheila turned her attentions to Tim with a stern voice. "Now you're going to go with Gabrielle and do whatever she asks. Do you understand?"
Tim nodded affirmatively as Gabrielle led him from the lobby to a corridor that stretched to the rear of the building. As Gabrielle escorted Tim from the lobby, the ladies began to filter into a small auditorium. Before he knew it, Tim found himself in a small dressing room behind the auditorium. And once behind closed doors, Gabrielle ordered Tim to strip down to the panties she knew he'd be wearing.
"So," Gabrielle continued, eyeing Tim with disdain as she strolled around him, inspecting him like some prized
stallion. "It would appear that you've got a thing for ladies' panties, wouldn't it?" she teased him.
"Y...yes..." he stammered as Gabrielle prolonged her inspection.
"I'll just bet you do. You like that silky nylon rubbing up against your cock and balls. It makes you all hard and stiff," she growled, her eyes shifting down to Tim's crotch and the tent pole that was pushing out from Sheila's silky panties.
"Yes," Tim blushed, a wet spot forming where pre-cum began to bubble. "Well," Gabrielle went on, reaching a hand to teasingly stroke Tim's now throbbing hard-on beneath the stretched-out fabric of the panties. "That's good because the girls in the club just love men in panties.., and hose, too. Especially pantyhose," she glared, a wicked smile across her face. "You like pantyhose don't you, Tim?"
