Chapter 5 - Satin Shivers
Over the course of the next week we both showed an overall
downward trend, though there were mornings when we showed no progress
or even a bit of springback. Soon (though not soon enough, we felt)
we were closing in on our 10 pound goal. Kelly had ordered several
lingerie catalogs, some from the widely-recognized Frederick's of
Hollywood and Victoria's Secrets, some from obscure special-interest
catalogs with many unusual items. In anticipation of meeting our
incentive threshold, we discussed what we would get. Looking through
the lingerie catalogs, imagining myself in these feminine outfits,
always excited me. Kelly purposely kept me breathlessly attentive by
bringing up question after question on material, style, and color.
"What do you think about white for me?" I asked.
"Well," she said doubtfully, "I'm not too sure. You tan
pretty well, and white would make your skin look awfully dark."
"You tan just about as well, yourself," I countered, "and you
look terrific in white."
"That's because I'm blonde," she replied, "and my light hair
and eyes set off the suntan. In white, your skin could get to look
too dark," she continued.
"Oh," I sighed, "so what do you recommend?"
Looking through the catalogs, Kelly found a satin outfit in a
deep midnight blue.
"This looks like it would just match your eyes," she said as
she pointed.
"Oh," I breathed, "I like it."
"Okay, that's all you get to see," Kelly chuckled as she
closed the catalogs. "The rest will be a surprise."
"What about choosing the things you'll get for your prize?" I
asked.
"We said I'd get the same things except for color and size.
I'll match your outfits only in the colors I already use. That's all
you need to know," she teased.
Kelly was the first to reach her ten pound savings goal, and
insisted on preparing her order herself. It was two days later that I
reached my own goal. That evening, she showed me the sealed
envelopes, ready to be mailed.
"More than one envelope," I mused. "Where're they all going?"
"No peeking," she laughed, "you'll just have to wait and see."
"Oh well," I grumped, "at least I'll see what you get a couple
of days before mine comes in."
"No you won't," she grinned. "I combined the orders.
Everything should come in at the same time."
With the first goal reached but the rewards not received, we
both lost a little intensity and our weight loss stagnated. We kept
our suppers light but were allowing ourselves to eat more like we had
been for lunch, or breakfast. We had made enough life-style change to
keep from gaining back our saved weight but couldn't seem to reduce
further. Then the first package arrived.
When I got home, I noticed a sticker on our door explaining
that a package from one of the well-known lingerie manufacturers had
been left with our neighbor. I hurried to get it, hardly daring to
breathe from excitement. Our neighbor Billie Jo, a lean, short-haired
woman who had always seemed a little distant to me, brought the
package with a thoughtful smile.
"New clothes?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, trying to suppress my blush. "For my wife,"
I blundered on.
"I've noticed that you and Kelly are out walking in the
evenings a lot. You both seem to have lost some weight."
"Nice of you to notice," I stammered.
I looked at her a little more closely than I had before. She
seemed more talkative than usual. Had she noticed something
embarrassing about me? Could she tell that I wore pantyhose, or had
shaved my legs? Her own legs were long and trim. She seemed almost
too muscular to be feminine and I wondered if she were a female
body-builder or something.
"I must admit I always thought you and Kelly were sort of out
of shape," she went on. "I think taking care of your body is very
important and I'm not comfortable with people who don't."
"Well, Kelly and I decided we needed to do something. We're
making a little progress."
"Yes, I can see that. You deserve some new clothes."
"These are for Kelly," I repeated.
"I know, you said that," she smiled.
Perhaps I was reading too much into her words. Looking back
on the conversation, it could have been completely innocent, but there
was a definite smile lurking behind her eyes. The box she held was
clearly labeled with a lingerie manufacturers logo, yet she seemed to
be implying that the clothes were, or should have been, for me. The
nervous tension from wondering how much she had noticed when I had
been outside in my shorts made me stammer and repeat myself, which
caused her to smile even more.
I decided she must have known or suspected something even
before my tongue-tied embarrassment at her door. However, she was
even more friendly than before and didn't seem shocked or disgusted,
only amused.
"Um," I mumbled, "thanks for keeping this for us, I mean for
Kelly."
Her smile expanded even further, with clear amusement beyond
that from a simple package delivery. She handed me the package and
waved as I turned away from the door. I could feel her eyes on me as
I walked away and I wondered what she was thinking.
Not surprisingly, the package was addressed to Kelly and from
long tradition I never opened her mail. My own mail always reached me
unopened as well, and while I had not really had anything to hide
(from Kelly), I appreciated the courtesy. As a result, I had to leave
the package unopened though I was burning with curiosity. Finally
Kelly arrived home, not especially late though it seemed like hours.
"We got a package today," I blurted out as soon as she got in
the door.
"Oh," she smiled. "Where from?"
I could tell she knew very well where the package must be from
and was just enjoying my anxious curiosity. However, she had taken
charge of this part of our incentive program and I resolved to
maintain my composure and let her have her fun. Someday I would get
my pleasant revenge.
She glanced at the package as though it were uninteresting and
strolled into the bedroom to change clothes. I was still wearing my
suit, except for the jacket which I had hung up, and she looked at me
as she passed.
"You certainly won't be able to wear those clothes when you
try on your new ones," she teased. "You better get in here and
strip."
"I will if you will," I countered.
"Deal," she said, and proceeded to unzip her skirt.
Soon it became a race, which proved she was as interested as I
was. In no time, we were both nude. She reached out to stroke my
smooth legs and hairless chest.
"I do enjoy you without all that hair," she grinned. "I
wondered if I would or not, but it really turns me on to see you all
clean and shiny."
"Turns me on, too," I mumbled, still somewhat embarrassed but
unable to hide the truth.
"Yes, that's obvious," she giggled. "Now, hand me that
package."
She had me turn around as she opened it, then I heard her gasp
with pleasure. I started to turn toward her and she exclaimed, "Don't
you dare turn around until I tell you! In fact, I'm going to make it
so you can't peek."
With a gleeful girlish laugh, she reached for the silk scarf
we had used for her stretching massage, and tied it over my eyes. I
heard the rustle of packing paper, and the sound of plastic bags being
ripped open.
"We'll start with this," she said, and I felt a garter belt
being fastened around my waist. The garters dangled down on either
side of my pulsing erection and along the sides of my hips.
"Sit down," she said, pushing me back to the vanity chair.
Next I felt soft stockings being smoothed up my legs, and
fastened to the garters. When she had everything adjusted, the
stockings were held snugly up and the garter belt rode securely on my
hips.
"Stand up again," she directed.
I stood up, and she tapped one foot to make me raise it.
Balancing against the top of her makeup table, I lifted one
stocking-clad leg, and felt her pull some underwear around, it, but
the leg hole seemed much larger than I expected. She pulled my leg
back to the floor, and then urged me to lift the other. The underwear
went around that leg as well and she guided my foot to the floor.
Then she pulled the underwear up my legs. As it reached my hips I
realized that it was only a minimum thong-style bikini, though it had
a surprisingly large pouch, almost enough to contain my raging
erection.
"I found these in the men's section of the catalog," she
giggled. "Imagine that, men wearing thong bikinis in satin. Who
would ever believe it?"
Since I stood there in just such a bikini, it was clear that
she knew who would believe it, but I found it interesting that enough
men bought them to make it worthwhile for the lingerie manufacturer to
carry them. The next thing I knew, she was pulling my arms together
and threading them through the straps of a bra which she quickly
fastened in back. I was surprised to find that the bra fit quite
well, except for the cups, of course, which were not padded. My
disappointment must have shown because she giggled again.
"Don't worry," she laughed, "I have tits for you, of the best
kind. Except for real ones, of course."
The pads she inserted into the bra cups were soft and pliable
and I wondered what they looked like.
"Just a minute more, darling," she said. "Let me get caught
up with you."
She took decidedly longer than one minute as I anxiously
waited, listening to the rustle of wrapping and the slither of
stockings. While I waited, I ran my fingers along the smooth texture
of the stockings, and cupped my hands under the surprisingly full bra
cups. Then she was guiding me to turn away from her vanity mirror.
She said, "I don't want you peeking until everything is
ready."
I felt her untying my blindfold, then she removed it but held it
spread below my chin so that I couldn't look down. I blinked my eyes
open and focused on her wide, ecstatic smile. When she saw that I was
ready she gently urged me to turn around.
My first thought was actually one of disappointment. My love
handles were very much in view. Unconsciously I pulled in my stomach
and thrust my chest out, which had an amazing effect on my "tits".
They swayed and jiggled almost like real breasts and I could see
definite nipple bulges in the satin bra cups. I reached up to touch
them, which brought a laugh and an explanation from Kelly.
"I got you the best silicone falsies I could find. They even
have nipple forms in them. We need to make sure we always get them
positioned correctly, but they look terrific."
My outfit of panties and bra, with garter belt and stockings,
was all in a deep, shimmering midnight blue. The contrast with my
newly-shaved body was dramatic and exciting. The dark colors made my
skin look like rich cream. The stockings were almost black, though
stretched into grayness except for the lace fringe at the tops. I
turned around to obtain a rear view in the mirror and saw thin,
elegant seams accenting the back of each of my legs. The narrow thong
was almost completely hidden in the crack of my ass, which looked
surprisingly trim considering the roll around my waist. I grabbed at
my love handles in disgust.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Kelly chided. "They don't look
that bad, and besides, we're still going to lose some more weight."
I had been so enamored at my own outfit that I had forgotten
to look at Kelly. Her outfit also shimmered in shiny satin, but the
color was an icy blue that matched her own eyes. She had no need for
falsies and filled out her own bra very nicely. Her glowing tan
seemed incredibly vibrant and healthy next to the frosty blue color.
She had chosen to go with lighter stockings that otherwise looked to
be a match for mine, complete to the elegant seams.
"Wow!" I exclaimed. "You are gorgeous. We should have gotten
you an outfit like that a long time ago."
"My tummy bulge looks worse than your love handles," she
pouted.
"No way," I disagreed. "You look terrific. But we do need to
keep losing weight. Have you thought about the incentives for the
next ten pounds?"
"Wait a minute," she interrupted. "What about the rest of my
incentive present?"
"Oh, that's right," I agreed. "Let me get them for you."
As I walked to the armoire, I could feel the garters sliding
over my essentially nude hips and the stretch of the stockings. My
tits swayed most convincingly in my bra, and I could see highlights in
the satin as I moved by the lights in the room. I opened the correct
drawer and withdrew the cuffs I had selected. Rather than go with
conventional metal handcuffs that I thought might hurt during extended
sessions, I had gotten some fur-lined leather cuffs from one of the
catalogs with unusual items. They were actually separate restraints,
but I had also gotten a couple of different length chains with
padlocks to complete the set. I returned and handed them to Kelly.
"Turn around," she ordered.
I smiled and complied, placing my hands behind my back.
Kelly fumbled with the restraints for a few minutes, then
placed them on my wrists. She selected a short chain and then opened
the padlock package. The two padlocks were part of a set with matched
keys and she dangled the keys over my shoulder where I could see them,
then tossed them on the dresser. In a moment, the padlocks clicked
into place and my arms were securely bound behind me.
"Now, for the part of your incentive that I didn't tell you
about," she said. Her tone was intended to be ominous, but she
spoiled it by giggling part way through.
"Sit down on the vanity chair again," she directed. "You need
to put your arms behind the chair back, and relax. You'll be there
for a few minutes. Don't move."
With that, she left the room for a minute, going in to our
closet. She returned with two shoe boxes. Opening one of the boxes,
she revealed elegant ice-blue satin pumps with towering heels. They
had to be over 4 inches tall! These she placed on her own feet, then
she opened the other box, revealing an obviously larger pair in my own
midnight color. Lifting my legs, she quickly placed the high-heeled
pumps on my feet.
"Don't try to stand up, yet," she said. "That will come
later. Close your eyes, and don't open them till I tell you to."
I complied, curious about what other surprises she had in
store for me. First, I felt a series of sharp pulls as Kelly removed
some of the hairs of my eyebrows. In a moment, I felt a creamy
moisture being applied to my forehead. The cream was spread across
all of my face, and down onto my neck, spread so smoothly that it
seemed to be absorbed into my skin. Next, I felt a light brush along
my cheekbones. Then there were a series of swabs applied to my
eyelids. A delicate pencil lined my upper lashes.
"Okay," she said, "open your eyes, but don't look in the mirror."
Kelly carefully applied eyeliner to my lower eyelid. Next,
she worked mascara onto my lashes, patiently adding layers until they
were long and full. When my right eye was complete, she started on
the left where the process was repeated. Finally, I was directed to
hold my mouth still and a frosty dark red was brushed onto my lips.
In what seemed like an age but was probably about 20 minutes, she was
satisfied. She had blocked the mirror with her body so I couldn't see
what she had done so I looked up at her in silent question about the
effectiveness of her endeavors. Once again, I saw that tentative look
on her face that she had when she first saw my shaved legs in
pantyhose.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing . . . nothing at all," she replied.
Moving out of the way, she let me look into the mirror, and I
gasped with pleasure. I was gorgeous! It was unbelievable what a
change the careful makeup had made. My skin glowed with a smoothness
I had never seen and my eyes! Delicate pinks and golds and subtle
mauves in eyeshadow had brought out the highlights of the deep
midnight blue of my eyes, and the eyeliner had made them look so
large! She had plucked my eyebrows just enough to achieve a strong
Kathy Ireland shape, and the overall effect was sensually feminine
without going so far that Ran would be compromised. It was a good
thing my arms were bound, or I would have had to touch my face to see
if it was really me.
"Kelly, you're a wonder. I wouldn't have believed it if I
hadn't seen it myself."
"Yes," she said quietly, "you're very beautiful."
It was clear from the tone of her voice that she was jealous
again, and this time with perhaps more reason. Her own makeup was
what she had worn to work, not the glamour glitz she had placed on me.
At the moment, I really did look even prettier than she did. She
clearly needed a little ego-stroking.
"I've always told you how beautiful you were when you went all
out. If it can make this much difference with an ugly mug like mine,
just think how terrific it makes you look when you give it your best.
Why don't you freshen up your makeup a little? I'm apparently not
going anywhere."
This last was to remind her that I was essentially tied to the
chair. I'm not sure I could have stood up in my towering heels even
with my hands free and certainly wouldn't try with my arms bound
behind the chair.
She laughed as she shook off her pensive mood and said it
wouldn't be necessary. Then she removed the cuffs and helped me to
stand. I tottered uncertainly on the high spikes, trying to find the
right weight balance between my toes and heels. Kelly gracefully
swayed across the room and back and then challenged me to follow her.
I stepped forward and nearly fell.
"No," she said, "you can't walk like a man in those shoes.
Watch."
Again she swayed across the room and back, swinging her hips
so that she could transfer her weight lightly onto the tall heels.
"Shorten your stride. Put one foot directly in front of the other,
not slightly to the side like a man does. Exaggerate it to begin
with. It will really get your hips to swinging, which you need."
I tried again, first stiffly, awkwardly, but eventually
achieving an interesting sway as I began to loosen up.
"That's it," she chortled. "Swing those hips, baby!"
It started feeling better, even easy to swing along in those
towering shoes. At one turn I caught sight of myself in the
floor-length mirror and froze at the image. There I was, inches
taller than I had ever been before, hips swung out to one side and
legs that ran up forever, shimmering in super-sheer stockings. I was
captivated by the smooth shine of the satin.
"What's the matter, now?" she asked, then noticed what I was
looking at.
"Not too bad," she nodded in agreement with my unspoken
impression.
"Well," I said, "losing ten pounds was worth it to me. How
about you?"
"Oops," she cried. "I almost forgot. That's not all you
get."
She went back to the closet and returned with another package.
Opening it, she revealed matching corsets, again in midnight and ice
blue.
"Take off your bra, but save the falsies," she directed. "And
take the garter belt loose, but keep your stockings on."
As I complied, she drew forth my corset and began to undo the
laces. Once she had it loose enough, she had me draw it on over my
legs and up above my hips. It didn't seem very tight as she adjusted
it into position. She handed me the breast forms, and helped me to
position them in the bra cups of the corset.
"Okay," she said, "hang on to the bedpost."
I reached out for the corner post of the bed, more for balance
in my still-unsteady shoes than for anything else, when she yanked on
the laces hard enough I had to grab on for real.
"Hold still!" she ordered. "I'm just getting started."
She drew the laces tighter and tighter, working each bit of
slack down to the ends then pulling it out. I began to feel like I
couldn't breathe and needed to use the upper part of my chest rather
than just letting my belly bulge when my diaphragm moved. The phrase
"heaving breasts" took on a whole new meaning as my chest motion
increased. Eventually, after I had several times been sure that she
couldn't possibly pull out any more, she tied off the ends of the
laces. She helped me to fasten the stockings to the garters of the
corset and I turned to look at myself in the full-length mirror. My
breath, already difficult, stopped altogether for a long moment at the
spectacular sight. Once again, I was amazed at the transformation.
Before, I had enjoyed the look of the bra and panties but been
disappointed at the bulge around my waist. Now, my love handles were
hidden and my waist nipped in an amazing amount within the corset.
There was so much more of the shimmering dark satin with the corset,
every inch seeming to catch a highlight from one lamp or another. I
turned and twisted as much as I was able within the stiff material and
tried to get my breathing started again.
As I turned, I noticed Kelly's ice-blue corset still in the
package.
"Take off your own bra," I told her. "It's your turn now."
We repeated our earlier process with roles reversed and soon I
was tugging on her laces. I was determined that she should be held at
least as tightly as me. She gasped as each additional inch of lace
was drawn out and soon was begging me to stop. Kelly didn't let loose
of the bedpost however, and I wouldn't let up until I had as much as I
could get. When I did stop, her waist was nipped in even tighter than
mine, and her chest was heaving at least as much.
"Wow," she breathed. "This is really something. How could
women stand this?"
"Look at yourself in the mirror, beautiful," I answered.
When she saw her reflection, with the figure every woman
dreams of having, a bright and happy smile lit up her face. I could
see her self-confidence return, though with a difference. From now on
I didn't think she would take her looks for granted. Instead, she
knew she had to work at looking her best, but that the rewards would
be worth it.
"Okay," she said, "now I understand."
At this point, even with the tight corset or perhaps because
of it, my stomach grumbled.
Kelly laughed and said, "that's right, we haven't eaten yet."
Reaching in to the box, she drew out two short silk
wrap-robes, one in each color. Handing me the midnight blue one, she
wrapped her own around herself and tied it snugly. I put my own robe
on, and laughed as I tied it.
"I can't see my waist, there seem to be a pair of obstructions
in my line of sight."
Kelly giggled and nodded, her own figure enhanced by the
corset she wore.
The short robe barely covered the tops of my stockings and
rubbed against my bare ass-cheeks as I walked with Kelly to the
kitchen. Every little movement seemed to cause the hem of my robe to
swish up and I felt as though my fanny were fully exposed. However,
whenever I forgot to exaggerate the sway of my hips, I would stumble
slightly. About that time I also realized that my feet had begun to
hurt.
"I'm going to have to take off these shoes," I complained.
"My feet are killing me."
"Don't you dare," Kelly threatened. "Learn to live with it.
Mine hurt, too, but we'll both just have to get used to these shoes."
When we sat down to eat, the robe rode up high enough that the
skin of my ass was sitting directly on the chair. A few inches of
pale thigh showed above the tops of my stockings and the sense of
being exposed was intense. I had never realized how even shorts
provided a guarantee of coverage that was unavailable with skirts.
After we ate, Kelly asked, "Are you ready for our walk?"
"Don't be silly," I replied. "But I'll get ready. Will you
unlace me?"
"Nope," she grinned. "Put on your exercise tights and running
shoes. I'll get you a shirt."
"Wait a minute," I resisted. "I can't go out there wearing
this corset and falsies!"
"Yes you can," she insisted. "We spent enough time in our
fashion show that it's already dark. You're lucky I'm not insisting
you wear shorts. I would insist if you had on suntan colored
stockings instead of those lovely dark ones."
Poised between reluctance and excitement, I didn't move for a
moment. Kelly laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.
Tottering on my high heels I helped her clean our few dishes and
swayed back into the bedroom. I found my exercise tights, and then
slipped off the spiked pumps with both regret and relief, carefully
packing them away in their shoe box and vowing to try them again. I
unwrapped my robe, sighing again at the elegant sight of the dark,
shimmery satin of my corset. Sliding the thin, tight exercise pants
up over my smooth, stocking-clad legs I could see that the garters
would be very noticeable. By this time, however, I was getting so
excited at the idea of going out while wearing such feminine
underthings that I was willing to take the risk. I put on my running
shoes and went to the closet to get a loose shirt.
Kelly met me at the doorway, and handed me a knit sport shirt.
When I pulled it on, it hardly fit over my full breasts. I had
thought that the garter straps would be noticeable, but they were
nothing. My bustline was flamboyant! Undeniable! Gorgeous! Entirely
too obvious! I looked at Kelly and started to complain, but the
smirking challenge in her eyes made me determined to show I could take
anything she could dream up. Then she added, or reminded me of, yet
another risk.
"Let me touch up your lipstick before we go out," she slyly
suggested.
Lipstick! I had forgotten that my face was made up with the
same flamboyance the corset gave my figure. My blush must have shown
even through the makeup and Kelly's smirk widened even further. I was
almost trembling with tension from the conflict of desire and fear.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I tried to decide which would show
worst. The darkness outside would probably make the chance of someone
noticing my makeup less than the risk caused by the corset and tight
sport shirt. Still blushing hotly, but more determined than ever to
complete the thrill of this amazing evening, I nodded.
Her surprise showed in her eyes, but she quickly sat me down
at her vanity table and in no time I was as glamorous as I had been
earlier. We walked to the door and Kelly took one last look at me,
letting her eyes travel from head to toe. Her amused look transformed
into something more like respect as she realized that I was a lot more
adventurous than she had given me credit for, and a lot more beautiful
as well. I started to take a deep breath but the tight corset kept me
contained, so I settled for a rueful grin and stepped outside.
We walked together down our driveway to the street and turned
to follow the curb. There happened to be a streetlight between our
house and our neighbor's, Billie Jo. As we passed under the light I
glanced up at Billie Jo's house and thought I saw a momentary gleam at
one of her windows, as though a curtain had been lifted. Was she
watching us, I wondered? I saw nothing further and we set off at our
usual brisk pace. Soon, though, we had to slow down as the corsets
kept us from breathing as deeply as we needed to. Grinning at each
other in our shared secret, we slowed our pace to a more leisurely
stroll. Eventually we completed our path and returned to our home.
Once inside, I decided to take charge of the rest of the evening in
order to ensure that the full impact of reaching our goal had been
met.
