He heard the yelp and instinctively turned to locate the source. Spinning
around, he watched, as did the rest of the shoppers, as a saleswoman threw a
pair of flimsy pants to the floor and a male stood absolutely naked in the
midst of the shoppers. He struggled to cover his obviously engorged penis
with his hands as his Mistress stood off to the side with a sneer of disgust
across her face. The male note-taker shied away from the distraction and the
saleswoman glared at the doorman as he strode with determination to the
altercation. With evidence of a practiced art, the huge doorman grasped one
wrist, locked it in a leather handcuff, and pressed it uncomfortably in the
middle of the naked man's back. Sliding the other to meet it, he cuffed the
man solidly so that his genitals were fully displayed for the amusement and
entertainment of the women shoppers in the store. The staff acted as if
nothing had happened and within moments, the store was again quiet with the
saleswoman taking accurate and efficient measurements of the horrified man's
penis, testicles, and inseam. Jotting down the numbers she called out, the
male assistant suppressed a smirk and kept writing without looking too hard
at the newest disciplined customer.

Brad's mouth fell wide open and his brain tried to absorb what he had
witnessed. He knew now that he would have to acquiesce to the saleswoman's
demands without argument. He could not take the humiliation that accompanied
being handcuffed in full view of casual customers. In spite of his awkward
feelings of degradation, Brad's penis had a mind of its own and continued
rising high and drawing his thin pants farther away from his body.

"Stand up straight," the saleswoman directed toward him. "I need accurate
measurements," she chided as her male assistant's mouth began its upward
turn. Brad felt a hand grab the waistband of his greens and he screamed
silently to his maleness and pleaded with it to descend. There was a rip of
velcro and Brad felt the air hit his skin with a sudden rush. The pants were
tossed to the floor and his errant erection debased him totally.

His wife smiled. The male assistant smirked broadly. The saleswoman ignored
it.

"Happens all the time," she casually mentioned as she used a stiff ruler to
slap his inside thighs and force his legs apart. With no warning, she cupped
his testicles and pulled them from between his upper thighs and dropped them
without expression. His penis pointed directly at her gaze and she ignored
it with unbelievable professionalism.

"The Mistress would prefer strapping or caging?" she inquired to his wife.

"Perhaps both," she responded, "or perhaps we should add studded leather.
I'm just not sure."

"We can accommodate your wishes," the saleswoman replied and grasped Brad's
genitals. Pulling them toward herself, she dragged the sputtering man toward
the wall of wide doors and after opening one, pulled him inside.

The dressing room! Of course! At least he could have some privacy in this
ludicrous situation. Brad wanted to kiss the saleswoman's feet for her
kindness of solitude and her rescuing him from his nakedness in the store.

His eyes wandered the fitting room and focused on several items of interest.
The mirrors that filled three walls were polished and gleamed from the
overhead spotlights. A single chair sat on the floor and next to it was a
small end table with simple hors-d'oeuvres and a wineglass. The only other
remarkable feature of the room was the pedestal in the center of the floor
to which Brad was directed. Stepping gingerly upon the two-foot platform,
Brad stood naked and silent under the harsh glare of overhead lighting. The
saleswoman gave him a single direction. "Stand absolutely still. I'll be
right back." With that, she left the naked and chagrined man alone in the
dressing room to stare at his body in the three full-length mirrors. As she
walked through the door, she swung it closed behind her. It almost latched.
Brad stared at the door and watched as it gently fell outward and threatened
to expose him once again to the crowd outside.

He stood and waited as he had been instructed. Hearing soft music and
smelling the fragrance of sweet vanilla, Brad watched his penis evolve into
a purple protruding rod that pointed perpendicular from his lower abdomen.
He hung his head in submission as he recognized that she had beaten him. He
was her property and she was his Mistress. With no escape, no chance for
release, no support of friends or acquaintances, and no knowledge of what
his wife had in store for him, Brad allowed the minutes to tick away and he
offered no retaliation against his plight.

The door swung open and both his wife and the saleswoman entered. The two
were talking with each other, having a good time and ignoring him
completely. Brad's wife sat in the single chair and sipped wine while the
saleswoman watched her assistant carry a full armload of leather, metal and
rubber for him to model. With both arms full, the assistant struggled into
the small room but left the wide door completely open. Brad's chagrined face
turned crimson while his penis remained purple. His body was a sensual
palette of color and his shame could not be overcome. He stood naked, beaten
and defeated, as his wife and her saleswoman examined the choices.

Every kind of leather gear was harnessed on his body during that session. He
was dressed in, at different times, a plain as well as a studded collar;
thigh, ankle and wrist cuffs; a metal spreader bar between his legs;
criss-crossed chest straps; several different kinds of masks; a variety of
nipple clamps; and at least four pair of wobbly high-heeled shoes. The
frantic pace of their outfitting him, stripping and then outfitting him
again overcame Brad's sense of shame at being fully exposed in front of
these strangers. The aroma of the leather overflowed his nostrils and the
clink of the ringing chains surprised him with its sensuality. His
unfortunate penis was still engorged, bearing unspeakable testimony to his
arousal.

She made various selections from among the leather, rubber and metal outfits
he had modeled and Brad drew a deep sigh of relief, believing his ordeal was
nearing conclusion. When he saw the male assistant return to his cubicle
carrying yet another armload--this time of sealed boxes--his brief relief
turned dramatically into apprehension. There was only one area of his body
that had not yet been outfitted and Brad's skin began to ooze perspiration
in anticipation of his wife's next torment for him. Speaking directly to his
wife, the saleswoman described her wares.

"We have a variety of anal plugs," she began without either trepidation or
hesitancy, "to fit a variety of circumstances. I can show you inflexible
models in all colors, some of which offer protrusions for increased
stimulation. In addition, we carry electronic plugs that vibrate and produce
significant sensations for the wearer. Further, I can show you flexible
models that can be twisted and turned to stimulate appropriate organs and
intensify the arousal. Finally..." the woman paused and with great relish
licked her lips and lowered her voice to a husky, enticing pitch, "there is
a new model. One which is configured especially for the wearer. It features
surgical steel inside and a covering that is molded polymer. The important
new aspect of this model is that it is fit directly into your..." the woman
hesitated for the briefest of pauses, "male's body. We can do the fitting
here," she added flippantly. "If you had him fitted right now," she looked
at her watch, "you could take it home with you in an hour." She paused,
finished with her sales pitch, waiting for the shopper to decide.

Brad stood naked and motionless while his wife considered the options
offered by the saleswoman. The personally fitted plug frightened him and the
"personal fitting" filled his being with dread. He had an uncontrollable
urge to fling his hands down to protect his cheeks from impending torture,
and he had a mental flash to his youth when he tried to conceal his buttocks
from his mother's firm hand in spanking. Of course, he probably deserved the
spanking, he believed, but he nonetheless struggled against it.

His wife's voice interrupted his daydream. "Do you have any belts?" she
inquired. "And, of course, let's not forget his panties."

Brad's ears picked up her request: panties! That was the item that brought
them to this unusual store and she would not let him escape without
subjecting him to this final indignity. The leather, rubber and metal
outfits were fine for their at-home love-making; however, the idea of
wearing "panties" to the OR let loose a flood of conflicting and painful
thoughts in Brad's brain. There was no way he could undress in the locker
room and reveal "panties," he insisted. Explaining them would not be
suitable, he decided. But the allure of silky lingerie next to his nude
genitals and buttocks filled his senses with a warm feeling of gladness. He
wanted to experience the soft rub of silk on his skin; he was eager to
palpate his penis within its almost sheer housing. Daring to peer down at
his wife's face, he noticed a small smile curl her upper lip.

"Let's see," the saleswoman began. "Certainly we have an enormous selection
of chastity devices, many of which are fully guaranteed. Additionally, we
carry varieties of testicular strapping all devised to show off the wearer's
endowment." She glanced at Brad's naked genitals as if measuring them
against a perfect standard and frowning only the slightest, added, "We carry
them in all sizes. Perhaps you should dress him in a small or a medium."

Brad wanted to die, right there on the pedestal in the dressing room. Small!
How could she measure his male pride and come up with the word "small?" He
had always been proud of his endowment and he certainly hadn't let down any
of his partners, had he? His wife never complained...

The shock hit him full in the face. She was complaining now! She was telling
him that his size didn't satisfy her. She was letting him know that sex with
him was not all she wanted it to be. She was telling him, without regret or
shyness, that she wanted MORE! Brad evaluated his situation and considered
his options. He wanted her desperately. He loved having sex with her,
touching her, holding her and smelling her. Right now, he wanted her more
than anything else on earth. But at the same time, she wanted him in panties
and leather. Could he reconcile these two alternatives?

His ears heard her voice break the silence. "Let's see one of the guaranteed
chastity devices. And I'd like a selection of panties. Oh yes, let's have
him fitted at the end of this session."

"Very good," the saleswoman noted as her assistant jotted notes on the
clipboard. She turned and fumbled through the boxes, lifting two and setting
them on the counter. Sending her assistant to the sales floor to obtain his
"selection" of panties, she turned her attention to Brad's wife.

"We'll secure him first," she began ominously, "and then you can evaluate
the devices. May I suggest you retire to the coffee area while I ready your
husband for his fitting?"

Brad's wife stood, thanked the saleswoman and exited the dressing room. She
never turned to her husband and acknowledged his presence. Alone with the
saleswoman, Brad's heart began to pound in his chest. Her demeanor, height,
carefully applied makeup, perfectly coifed hair and long red fingernails
reminded him of a junior high teacher he had his first crush on. When other
boys dreamt about playing baseball, Brad played with himself and imagined
having his way with his math teacher. There were times in class he prayed
she would not call him to the board and reveal to the entire class his
uncontrollable hard-on. He did very well in math that year.

The placid saleswoman evolved into a sinister force in the cubicle. Her
directions and tone indicated she had plenty of experience with reluctant
males before. Short and to the point, she commanded Brad into position.

"Hands up!" she directed. "Feet spread apart shoulder width. Turn and face
me." As Brad jumped into position, he felt himself upright but spread-eagle
and absolutely vulnerable to anything the saleswoman wanted to do to him.

With his back to the mirrors, Brad felt the rush of air as the door flung
open and the male assistant entered. Taking in Brad's absolute nakedness
with an appreciating eye, he placed the merchandise securely on the small
table and leapt onto the small platform. Grabbing hanging cuffs and securing
them onto Brad's wrists and bending low to secure his ankles in similar
restraints, the assistant had Brad shackled completely in a matter of
seconds. Unable to move except to wiggle his torso, Brad fought against his
confinement and twisted his body as far as his restraints would allow.
Grunting and groaning in agony of imprisonment, Brad managed only to jiggle
his dangling organs in an odd dance of useless defiance. Both the saleswoman
and her assistant smirked at his unproductive efforts.

"The waist bar," she casually mentioned and her assistant jumped to obey.
With a soft whirr of a motor filling his ears, Brad saw a metal bar protrude
from the wall and envelop his chest. The jaws circled his lower chest and
clamped shut, insuring that he could not move any part of his body from the
position the saleswoman required of him.

The assistant began unwrapping packages and standing various plugs on the
table behind Brad's backside. Uncapping a huge tube, he took a large dollop
of gel in his palm and pressed his open palm between Brad's ass cheeks.
Tensing, Brad fought the intrusion. By flexing his gluteal muscles, he
attempted to dissuade the assistant's entry but the saleswoman, noticing her
charge's dilemma, swatted Brad's naked penis once with an open hand and Brad
immediately thought better of his actions. Relaxing his backside, Brad felt
the assistant intrude into his darkest region and lubricate his passage with
the oily substance. When the man's finger attempted to enter his rectum,
Brad fought gallantly but with full knowledge that no escape was possible.

The saleswoman leveled criticism at the struggling doctor. "If you do not
allow the lubrication, you will experience intense pain. Do you want pain?"

Brad's eyes filled with tears as he conceded defeat. Forcing himself to
breathe deeply and pretend it was his yearly physical, Brad ceased
struggling and allowed the intruder entry. The discomforting feeling of
fullness concentrated itself in his lower quarters. He felt the finger poke
and prod, enter and leave, flex and pull until every corner of his insides
was oiled and ready. Finally, thankfully, the finger left Brad's body.
Utterly humiliated, Brad hung his head in shame and allowed the tears to
flow.

"Press it against the entry," the saleswoman said, "and expel the plunger.
I'll clock the fitting."

When he thought he could not take any more, Brad was forced to endure
another unwanted explosion into his anus. He felt a hardness press into his
hole and then, without warning, a rush of cold liquid was propelled into his
inner sanctum. He struggled against expelling the contents and utterly
humiliating himself in the dressing room as he took deep even breaths trying
to control his twitching rectum.

The saleswoman looked at her watch.

Finally, after an interminable period of waiting and struggling, Brad heard
her utter the most welcome pronouncement.

"It's time," she said simply.

With his back to the mirrors, Brad couldn't see the assistant grasp the
steel rod that protruded slightly from Brad's anal area and pull straight
downward. He felt the ghastly exit of the plug that was inserted exactly to
the contours of his rectum. Thanking them silently for the lubrication, Brad
contended with his agonized bowels and infuriated hole as the saleswoman
stepped behind him and inspected for any damage. Seeing none, she instructed
her assistant once again.

"Set out the panties for her inspection," she directed. "Then go to the
coffee area and invite the customer to return." Ignoring Brad's whimpering,
the saleswoman went about the business of straightening up the dressing room
as the assistant exited in search of the paying customer.

To Brad's horror, he left the door open again. Customers passing by his
dressing room viewed Brad in his absolute nakedness. Some of the males
accompanying their women smirked at his plight. The woman barely gave Brad a
second glance. With his arms secured above his head, his feet spread wide
and shackled, his chest secured tightly by a giant claw, Brad was the
picture of restraint. Only his eyes filled with fear gave away his inner
emotions.

For a full 5 minutes, customers passed by the open door. Finally, Brad's
wife returned and feigned surprise when she noticed the tight bondage in
which he was constricted. Admiring the handiwork, she complimented the
saleswoman on her lingerie choices and held up different silky panties in
front of Brad's nude pelvis as if dressing him with her mind and imagining
which colors and styles she preferred. She threw down several of them and
handed even more to the saleswoman's eager hand.

"We'll take these," she concluded.

"I'll have your selections wrapped," the saleswoman replied and exited the
small room.

His wife turned and stared into Brad's burning eyes. "You will wear these
panties to the hospital," she declared, "and if asked, you will tell anyone
that you have a skin condition that requires natural fibers that are soft.
Otherwise, you will say nothing to anyone about your new clothes." Brad
sighed. "Remember, if you want any rewards, you will obey all my wishes. Do
you understand?"

Exhausted, Brad hung limply from his restraints. She asked again, "Do you
understand!!" It was not a question this time. Brad managed to shake his
head up and down.

"Speak!" she ordered and added, "politely!"

His lips did not want to obey his mind's command. Desperately wanting to be
released from his bonds, he managed a small grunt that sounded like Yes to
him. But it wasn't good enough for her.

"Until you answer me clearly and politely, you can hang there. I don't
care," she turned and exited through the open door, leaving it open to
further his agony of degradation. Brad wanted that door closed more than he
wanted anything else in his life.

"Yes!!" he called after her, "YES! I understand!"

Smiling, she swung around and peered directly into his eyes. That's a
beginning, she thought, but announced, "It's time to go home."

Brad managed the smallest of smiles and hung limply while he waited for the
assistant to enter and loose his bonds. With his feet stretched
uncomfortably apart and his legs aching from the strain, Brad concentrated
on his stinging backside's anguish. Finally, he was unshackled and returned
to his wife.

It was hard for him not to notice that several other naked men were likewise
being returned to their women and seated on hard chairs next to each
customer who was signing her charge card slip. Some men were crying; others
simply sported red eyes that spoke volumes of each man's ordeal. Brightly
wrapped boxes were placed in each man's hands and naked carriers struggled
with their boxes to each woman's car. With the help of the doorman, the
packages were placed in each car's trunk and a lineup of naked men returned
to the store each for his own clothes.

Settling finally into his wife's red convertible, Brad searched her eyes for
answers. She offered him only one.

"It is time for you to recognize my needs," she began. "I've taken care of
yours for years. We will play according to my rules for a little while. If
you seem to enjoy it, I'll consider sending you to the training facility
Debbie told me about..." with that, she drove off.

Brad felt his maleness fill rapidly with sensual joy. His choices seemed
clear. Either he did it her way or he didn't do it at all. If Ron, Debbie's
husband, was any example of a happy guy, Brad felt he would be happy to go
to the same facility and learn what Ron called the best few weeks of my
life. From Ron's constant smile, Brad imagined that this alternative was the
best one for him, his wife and their future together.

She reached out and grabbed his velcro pants. "Up!" she ordered as she
struggled to lift his bottom from the car seat. She yanked off the flimsy
pants and tossed a single box toward him. "Put on the purple silk panties,"
she commanded. "And nothing else."

The two of them drove home in the exciting silence of anticipation.