Nylon Slave

Nylon Slave




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Nylon Slave
Hey everybody. If you've read some of my stories you know I don't waste any time getting right into it. I set things up and explain the situation briefly and then I get right to the stuff everyone here wants to read. I do enjoy the stories on here and there's nothing wrong if the setups are longer or people use more detail. But this is how I prefer to do it.
Anyway this is the first part of a new story. Just a warning that this story will involve some extreme humiliation and it may not be for everyone. And like most of my stories involving male characters this story will also include forced feminization/cross dressing so if that's not your thing you may want to stop reading now.



Circumstances forced me to eventually move in with my Aunt Stephanie and my cousins Kristen and Lauren. I was 18 and just graduated high school. My aunt hired me at the restaurant she owned. The manager was a woman about my aunts age named Michelle. I usually worked nights so that meant closing up with Michelle.

Michelle was an attractive woman with brown hair and smooth legs. She had a thing for wearing heels and skirts and usually nylon stockings. I used to catch her dipping her feet in and out of them and I couldn't help but stare. I had a foot fetish since I was a kid and I didn't even know why. I just found them to be attractive. I never did anything about it or told anyone. I kept it to myself.

But one night I was closing up and Michelle was in the office. She took off her heels and stretched out.
"Oh my feet are killing me!" she said. "I could really use a massage or a foot bath." 
"I'll massage them for you." I said it without thinking and was instantly embarassed. I thought she probably assumed I was a freak or a creep. But she smiled and said "okay that sounds great to me. I could really use it."

She sat and did paperwork while I got on my knees and rubbed her aching soles. Her moans of pleasure told me I was doing a good job. "Oh yes. That's perfect. Thank you so much for doing this. You're very good at it."

When it was over she asked if I would do it again for her. I said yes and the next night we worked together I was back on my knees rubbing and massaging her tired feet. Her stockings had their own smell due to the nylon material and wearing heels for hours didn't let her feet breathe too well. So the combination of nylon and sweat made a very strong smell but I didn't comment or complain about it. I asked her not to tell my aunt and she agreed.

Over the course of a few months we built a relationship where she practically expected me to massage her feet after work for her and I did it no questions or complaints. She seemed to notice how much I enjoyed rubbing her feet and eventually asked if I had a foot fetish.

I turned bright red and started stuttering and mumbling. She laughed and said "you do don't you! Aw that's so cute! Adam has a foot fetish!"
I begged her again not to tell anyone and she agreed so long as I kept massaging her feet for her.

Months later I was massging her feet for her and she said "my feet are a little cold. Warm them up with a kiss for me." I couldn't believe my ears. But I kissed her foot once and she giggled. I kissed them again. Every time I kissed them she would wiggle her toes. I kissed her feet for 15 minutes. Then I got bold and decided to lick her sole once. She giggled and said "that tickles."
I continued kissing her feet while she wiggled her toes and giggled. "Why don't you suck on my toes a little too?" she said.
I took her big toe in my mouth and sucked the sweat right out of her nylons. "Oh that feels so good. Hey Kristen, Lauren, did you get all of that?"
"Oh yeah" my cousins said and I turned to see them standing in the doorway. They were recording the entire time with their phones. "Wait until mom hears about this. She's going to have you put away you little freak."

Michelle set me up and now my cousins had proof of what a weirdo I was. They showed my aunt when they got home and she wasn't surprised. "I always knew my nephew was a little creep. Now we have confirmation."

I was afraid she was going to kick me out of the house. My parents were deceased and they didn't leave me any money so I would have been out on the streets. I didn't have any other family or friends I could stay with. So it was Aunt Stephanie's house or no house. I begged her not to and I apologized for my own fetish like I was some pathetic freak who had done the worst thing in the world.

I was very weak for a guy and easy to push around especially when I had something to lose. So I was willing to do anything to stay in her house. And she knew that and used it to her advantage.
"Okay Adam if you're going to live here you will do everything for us. You will take care of the house and do all our chores. You will cook and clean and you will do everything I tell you without arguing or asking. And you will do anything my daughters tell you as well. Think of yourself as a servent with no rights or freedom. Actually just think of yourself as a slave because that's exactly what you're going to be Adam."

I agreed without even thinking twice. "Good slave. We will also indulge your fetish but not for your pleasure, for ours. You will massage our feet when we ask. You will paint our nails for us and do our manicures and pedicures so we can save money at the salon. And if we ask you to do anything else you will do it too." 

"What about work?"
"This is your job from now on. Your paycheck and reward is having a roof over your head and food in your stomach and of course the pleasure of serving us. My daughters and I can be quite demanding. Now get to work slave."


I spent the first week doing everything for them. I cooked. I cleaned. I did their laundry and made their beds. I cleaned the house and washed their cars for them. And they took full advantage of the foot massages. I had to massage their feet at least once a day, sometimes two or three times if they wanted. I painted their nails and did their manicures and pedicures. I even clipped their toenails and fingernails for them.

I felt myself getting weaker and weaker as the days passed. I was growing into the role of the slave and I granted every request they made. I even found myself thanking them for making me do their chores or massaging their feet.

After the first week my cousins had a surprise for me. "It's time to play dress up" Lauren said.
"Dress up?"
"Yup. You're going to wear our old clothes."
"The hell I am."
"Then we'll tell our mom you disobeyed us and she'll kick your worthless ass out. And then we'll tell everyone what a loser and a creep you really are. We'll destroy you."
My cousins didn't like me. In fact they hated me. I never understood why but my aunt never really taught them to have respect. They usually walked around like they owned everything. They really believed that they were better than everyone else including their pathetic little cousin. So I knew they were not bluffing. They would destroy me and they'd probably enjoy every second of it.

First they made me go in the bathroom and shave my body. I shaved my arms, legs, and my chest. Then they gave me some lotion to put on so my skin wouldn't dry out. Then they introduced me to my new clothes.

They gave me a lace bra and panties. I stuffed the bra with padding they gave me. Then a black dress and black pantyhose with reinforced toe.
"What a cute girl he makes" Lauren said.
"Yeah we just need to do his make up now" Kristen said.

They sat me down and put makeup and lipstick on me. Then a blond wig. I was so embarassed and humiliated. They laughed and took more pictures and video with their phones. More blackmail material.
"Aw what's wrong Adam?" Kristen said. "You miss Michelle? Don't worry you'll see her soon."

My cousins made me do my chores dressed up as a girl. My aunt got home from work and saw me scrubbing the floors.
"You look ridiculous" my aunt said.
"Oh I agree" Kristen said. "But we're in charge not him. So I say we make him dress up like this all the time. What's he going to do about it? He has to obey us. And every time he looks in the mirror or looks down at his clothes he'll know that we own him. We can do whatever we want to him."
"I like it" aunt Steph said. "But we'll have to take him shopping and get him some real clothes that fit. We'll take him tomorrow. I know a place."


I will continue this as soon as possible. I'm back in school so it may take a little while.
As always, great story concept. I've enjoyed all of your stories, and this one is no exception.
Feet dreams are made of stink...who are we to disagree?
Thank you! And I love your teacher's pet story. I can't wait to see where it goes. You've done an excellent job building it up so far.
I am glad to know you are enjoying my story, as it has the opposite buildup to yours (mine was gradual over a number of chapters, yours jumps right into the action). The nice thing is that you can appreciate my method and I definitely can appreciate yours. For me, as long as the story is engaging then I will like it. And yours have always been engaging to me. Keep up the great work! :-)
Feet dreams are made of stink...who are we to disagree?
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" - and for God's sake, find something better to do while I'm away than sitting in front of that damned computer. I'll see you on Monday, and it would be nice to have dinner on the table when I walk in."

The door didn't exactly slam shut after her, but Selina was adept at putting her husband down at any time, and that's how Lindsey Jackson felt this time as his wife set off on her business weekend. Making money, that was what she was all about, he thought. He himself barely entered the picture.

Not that he was fazed by that. He had been planning his fantasy fulfillment for weeks, ever since she had told him she would be away for the weekend of April 16th, and here it was at last. He was frightened and exhilarated at the same time. Was his courage up to this? He waited quarter of an hour, until he was sure Selina wouldn't be coming back for her bag or anything, then he dashed up to the bathroom and scrubbed himself up into twice the guy he usually was. Then he sat at the phone, shaking with nerves - and rang his Mother-In-Law.

"Hello? - Desiree?"

There was a moment's pause, then: "Lindsey."

One word of her voice thrilled him. God, she was astute. He knew he had to dive straight in or he would lose his way with wimpish dithers and mumbles and end up ringing off.

"Er, Selina's gone on her business weekend." He hesitated as if barely poking his toe in the water.

"Oh yes - Manning Systems, isn't it."

It was now or never. He dived in. "Yes. I was wondering if I could c-come on over?"

There was a pause.

"To see how you are?" he added.

Another agonising pause, then "Yes. Yes, come on over."

His heart was hammering. "Good. I'll b-be with you in half an hour. Twenty minutes."

"Good boy."

His hair was standing on end as he got into the car and set off for Desiree's condominium. This was it. His plan of massive hopes was about to be put to the test - with a woman who would know nothing about it until he opened his mouth - until he confessed his infatuation; his desperate need. What was she going to say? Would she go ballistic? Would she laugh in his face? Would she hear him out, then get straight on the phone to her daughter? She would hold his life in her hands.

He parked the car in the lot, out of sight of her windows, thank goodness. He didn't want her looking down at him as he walked into her building. Mechanically he hurried to the door, took the lift and came to her door, petrified. He was quite capable of talking to his Mother-In-Law sensibly - so that's what he was going to do. The door opened, and there she was, in an orange and silver striped blouse and narrow charcoal skirt to below the knee. She stood back to allow him in.

"You want some company, Lindsey? I can understand that. Or have you come to give me a hand with this and that?"

"Sure. I'll give you a hand - any jobs you need doing. Just show me what you want me to do."

Desiree was not a woman of sudden movements. She played with her dark blue beads as she watched her young son-in-law and led the way into the sitting room. They sat opposite each other on armchair and settee, and Lindsey dried up - couldn't think of a thing to say. Her lips were a delicious carmine red and her hair drawn back, adding to her presence. She was inclined towards a smile, he could tell, then she drew herself up, crossed her legs with her hands on her top knee and asked him: "Why have you come, Lindsey?"

The directness of her question cut through all the pretence, but that didn't help him with what to say. He hadn't even thought it through properly - how he was going to try and tell her what he wanted to -

"Was it to seduce me my dear?"

His face made a shocked, 'Certainly not' shape.

"You desire me, don't you," she said, " - or something?" She dropped her chin into the cleft of her blouse as if to judge him better. "I think it's something feminine about me. My blouses maybe?"

"N-no."

"My skirts, silk slips maybe? - My panties?"

His too vigorous shake gave him away, and Desiree pursed her lips and stopped her questioning. "Well then, you had better come with me."

She stood up, held out her hand to draw him to his feet, and led him like a child to her bedroom. "I'm not really surprised, my little Lindsey," she said, undoing his belt and his flies. He didn't dare stop her. "I can read you like an open book, dear. I've known several men with similar 'interests'. You would positively love to be left alone in my bedroom for a few hours to play with my things, wouldn't you?" She chuckled, lifting his tee-shirt. "No, don't deny it. I've seen you looking at my blouses. I even know which are your favourites. I'm surprised Selina hasn't seen it too."

When he was stark naked and very vulnerable, she led him to her chest of drawers and opened her array of girdles. A quick pull of one of her smaller drawers and she had a pair of nylons for him, followed by a full length corselet that must have belonged to her slimmer days. Lesley could scarcely believe it - Desiree was manipulating him easily and he was helpless to stop her. He was enjoying it, as his penis showed - allowing her to dress him in her corselet and stockings. Then she put him into a pair of her high heels.

"Sit there on the bed," she said in a voice that had to be obeyed, "because one thing you are not going to do is play with my things on your own. I shall play with you, my little panty boy."

She disappeared and left Lindsey pondering the unbelievable position he'd got himself into, and as he had thought, he was definitely within her power to expose him now to his wife. He had better do exactly what she said. Whatever she commanded. What bliss!

Moments later the dream woman returned - in her pale green blouse with the huge collar and gorgeous bow on her breast, and she had paired it with her long, wide pleated skirt in a darker green. Her son-in-law's penis thickened and grew in front of her corselet, bringing a smile to her face.

"Come and sit over here for me, my panty boy," she said, "and I think I may be needing this," as she held a roll of red rubber and let it unfold to spread over the seat of her bedroom chair.

She made him crouch on his haunches on the seat, so that she could thread his legs under each arm. "Hands behind you," she said, and he felt her tying his wrists together in one of her scarves. When he was in a very exposed and helpless position, she sat beside him and turned his head with a hand under his chin so that he looked up to her. "Well, my naughty panty admirer... are you sure you want to show me how much you worship my panties?"

"Y-Y-Yes please, Desiree."

She lifted her chin and looked at him sternly down her nose. "Why do you want to worship them?"

It was time for Lindsey Jackson to summon all his courage and make his ultimate confession.

"B-B-Because they're your panties, Desiree. You wear them."

Her stern look changed into a little smile, then she stooped to the lowest drawer in the chest and drew it all the way open.

A gasp of emotion sprang from her son-in-law's throat and his palpitations became unbearable. Layers of silk and satin, nylon and polyester panties stared up at him, demanding his most abject surrender. Desiree lifted out a lilac pair and fitted it onto his hair, then drew it down until his face peered from one of the elastic frilly leg openings. It breathed her perfume and he moaned with desire.

"My panty slave must worship my lingerie in silence," she declared, lifting out a pair of ivory satin directoires, and she folded them into a thick band of satin and wrapped them over his mouth, tying the legs into a knot behind his neck. He 'Mmmmphed' in suitable impotence.

"Very good, little son-in-law. Now you are ready," and she drew out several of her pairs of panties and lay them in a line along the front of her panty drawer, before choosing a first pair, presenting it to his panting penis and wrapping it so that she could softly massage it up and down for him.

"Is that nice, panty slave?" she enquired with a chuckle. "I understand your needs. Are you glad you have Mommy Desiree as your Mother-In-Law?"

Her captive was beyond trying to follow her questions. His cream was on its way to begin his worship of Desiree's panties. She allowed it to ooze in little dribbles, stopping in time to prevent a climax, so that her first pair of panties lasted twenty minutes before she mistimed it and allowed him to come, gushing now in spurt after spurt of blissful relief.

"That's very good panty worship, sweetie," she said, lighting a cigarette and fitting it to her holder. She left him for a moment to collect a drink for herself, and when she was sitting comfortably again he was already fully erect. She selected panty pair number two.

"I think you may be sitting in front of my panties for a very long time, Lindsey. And I expect total adoration for each and every pair. After all, I have worn them all over my ass and my pussy. Make sure you remember that as your cock kisses each one," and he almost swooned as she wrapped his rigid penis in a second silky garment of adorable feminine control.





This is a story I made up and wanted to share with people, hope you enjoy it.


P.S. This is not a real a story, only a fantasy.


Tommy was 13 the day when his life was fully changed.
It was Friday, the day Tommy would go to his room and talk to his friends on social networks or applications, he was home alone, as it was like this everyday. Tommy, who has a stunningly beautiful mother at the age of 30 with wonderful size 8 feet and 2 sisters that are adopted when their mother was 21, are both blonde with size 7 feet, one of which was 17 and the other 18, his father had died after a plane crash. Tommy would usually
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