`We shall be going to the Society on Wednesday,' my mistress announced casually one morning as I was clearing away her breakfast tray. I knew she was referring to the Society for Emancipated Women, of which she was an enthusiastic member. I was not pleased. I have been her slave and personal maid ever since we were married, and I adore every moment of my servitude; But these society gather­ings are so degrading. My Mistress, bless her, has a wicked sense of humour, and loves to show me off to the other ladies, which usually ends in extreme humiliation for me. I took the tray to the kitchen and when I returned to lay out her clothes she was still reading the letter. I curtsied and waited respectfully for my orders.

'Down here' she snapped, much to my surprise. I sank to my knees carefully, so as not to ladder my new stockings; I had already been thrashed once that week for being careless with my clothes. I carefully lifted and folded the skirt of her nightdress, as I had been taught. She continued to read her letter as she opened her legs to admit me to her womanly mysteries. Normally I prize this service above all others, and love to linger in the warm, womanly wetness as long as I am permitted; But this morning I had so much housework to do, besides a mountain of washing and ironing, that I hoped she would not be too demanding. As my questing tongue found the lips, I was surprised to find they were already soft and moist. I assumed that the letter was of an erotic nature, because almost immediately she began to squirm and moan, as she turned me over on the bed and forced my nose roughly into her slit.

Not until I had sucked every last drop of juice from her did she kick  me away, to fall in a quivering heap at her feet.

'Look at you!' She barked, `straighten your apron and cap you slut'. She stood up and looked down at me with withering contempt. `You don't satisfy me as you used to' she spat. `You've grown tame; Where is the eagerness you used to show?' she stormed. I fealt crestfallen that my devotion should be so seemingly unacceptable to my Lady; And a bit unfair, I thought, although I did not dare to say so of course. Later, as she was about to leave for the office, she turned and flicked me lightly across the face with glove. 'We shall see if Wednesday offers any solution to your lazy attitude. You don't want me to have to send you to be trained in some other woman's knickers, do you?' she chided. Before I could reply she was driving away, and I was left to ponder over her parting words.

Removed lace apron

As I removed my lace apron and black dress, putting on my work clothes, a slip and cross over pinafore, I shuddered at the prospect of being trained by some strange woman. The idea of serving any other woman but my beloved Mistress was obscene. True, she often lent me to her mother or some of her women friends when they needed a skivy to scrub their floors, and these sessions usually ended by me being taken upstairs to their bedrooms and used, sometimes disgracefully, to pander to their whims. I never complained to her, of course, even when some great fat matron made me lick her bum. My only wish was to show these women how dutiful and obedient I was to my adored mistress. As I changed the bed and hoovered the carpet I kept wondering what Wednesday would bring.

After lunch on Wednesday I was told to change into my street clothes; The meeting of the society was at 3.0 p.m. It always seems strange to me now to wear male clothes, I spend so much time in dresses. Somehow I feel out of place as a male, but I have to endure the discomfort of trousers once or twice a week to do the shopping.

We arrived in good time at Madam Claire's Beauty Salon, and while my mistress entered the front door, I made my way down a side passage to a side entrance, and was ushered in by one of the young girl assistants. The society meets once a month to exchange ideas and show off  their slaves; Vying with each other to demonstrate how devoted and well trained they are. A suite of sound proofed rooms has been con­structed in the basement, reached by a narrow flight of stairs, down which I was unceremoniously pushed by the giggling assistant. Teenage girls are quite merciless when they get a submissive male under their thumb. As we passed the main room I could hear the sound of women's voices and an occasional peel of laughter. Mistress, I knew, would be enjoying a cocktail with her friends. I was taken to a small room where several other slaves were kneeling naked and in dog collars which were fastened to rings set low down in the wall. 'Here's another one,' shouted my escort, giving me a shove with her high heeled shoe that sent me sprawling.

Two of the waiting girls immediately set upon me. One pulled my shirt over my head while the other deftly stripped my trousers off. To have offered anyresistance would have brought disgrace on my mistress, so I submitted meekly to being put in a collar and tethered to a ring. Because of my display of docility the girls left me alone. Teenagers seem to have an uncanny instinct at picking on someone who will provide them with sport and amusement. One poor wretch, obviously new and still unbroken, became very surly and he was soon being goaded and teased unmercifully. When the mistresses came to collect us, his owner flew into a rage at the sight of her slave, with his scarlet, angry face, and big rampant penis. She snatched his lead from the wall ring and began to flay his large naked buttocks in uncontrolled fury. The young girls who had brought about his downfall looked on with smug satisfaction at their handywork.

"How dare you!' she screamed at the now wimpering miscreant. 'Wait till I get you home', she threatened, and dragged him roughly behind her into the main room, where we all presently followed. I crawled on my hands and knees behind my mistress, enjoying to the full the sight of her shapely legs and her high heeled black patent shoes as they went click clack on the polished floor; The soft swish of her dress, but most of all to feel the tug on my dog lead which signifies being completely owned by one of these wonderful woman beings. She selected a chair and I sat cross legged on the floor beside her, as any proud and faithful dog might do.

Room arranged

The room, I could see, had been arranged for a lecture, and Madam Chairwoman was even now taking her place on the rostrum, accompanied by a well built woman wearing a pair of voluminous directoire knickers. An easel had been placed on one side which depicted the lower half of a female form, clothed in a strange garment, which I have reproduced as far as memory will allow. The chairwoman arose and called the meeting to order. `Good afternoon ladies' she began. `We are happy to welcome Miss Lancing amongst us today. As you may know, she is the chief designer of special corsets and underwear for the firm of 'Femitex'. She had designed. a most intriguing garment which I am sure will be of special interest to us.' As Miss Lancing arose and stepped forward I realised the knickers she was wearing were identical with those shown on the diagram.

'I am very grateful to see such interest on our training garments', she beamed. "I  see most of you here today own slaves, and I am sure you will want to get the best service out of them. I must emphasise that this garment is intended for advanced training; For slaves who have already become addicted to urine. It should be used sparingly, to correct slovenly behaviour, or discipline a slave who has forgotten his only reason for living, to please his owner.'

Turning to the diagram, she picked up a pointer and continued.

"As you will see, the garment is in two parts. The inner knickers are skin tight, and are made of latex covered Stellux, our new, virtually unbreadable fibre. This allows us to achieve an incredible thinness, so that every delicious movement of the imprisoned slave can be fealt and enjoyed by the wearer. The crotch piece is very full and hangs down several inches. It is made slightly bulbous at the end, and Is made of pourous Stellux power net. Attached to the bulbous end are a number of fine, hair like filaments. The outer garment is sealed to the inner one at the broad elastic leg band, so that together they form a water proof bag. It closes with a zip at the side and is made of heavy duty power elastic, latex covered to make it air and water proof. You will notice there is a small horizontal zip at the side; This is to adjust the amount of air entering the knickers. The head sleeve is provided with draw strings which are tied around the slave's neck.'

As she made her way to her chair a buzz of whispering and tittering passed around the room, and I noticed some of my fellow slaves were eyeing their mistresses with uneasy forboding. One young slave, obviously new to restraint and discipline began to whimper and moan. He was being held on a tight rein by a huge German woman, and was wearing one of the stiff, high collars with the sharp, saw toothed edges that caused severe chaffing at the slightest head movement. These cruel devices are much favoured by continental mistresses to break a new slave to obedience, but are seldom seen here. The heat of the room, together with the constant, gnawing agony of his sore, inflamed neck had made him delirious. All the women turned to watch. There is nothing they like more than to gloat over some other woman's slave who misbehaves, and likewise, there is nothing that infuriates a mistress more than being shown up in front of other mistresses. The big blonde woman sprang to her feet. 'Schweinhund' she shriked, and began to flog his rump mercilessly with a small martinet she snatched from her bag. The poor wretch screamed and wriggled like an eel on the end of his leash, while her massive right arm rose and fell, making her huge breasts wobble and bounce up and down. He was soon reduced to a blubbering heap, and although some of the younger women urged her to give him some more, the chairwoman took the opportunity to call the meeting back to order. Even though the frauline was holding him so tightly the collar almost throttled him, an occasional sob escaped him, and the chairwoman looked accusingly in his direction. He was hurriedly put on a leather helmet which completely covered his head and face except for two eye slits, than a chin strap was tightened, clamping his jaws together, and his groans suddenly ceased.

Order at last having been restored, Miss Lancing continued.

'Now,' she began, `before we go ahead with the demonstration, I would like to explain the sequence of events, as most of it will be invisible. We are dealing with the slave who has already become addicted to urine, and is used to spending long periods in his mistress's knickers. Incidentally, I must stress that this garment should never be used on an untrained slave; it will almost certainly spoil him for future use. We do produce a special garment, which is supplied with a booklet full of useful tips and procedures for inducing urine dependency in a male. But to return; I find it best to deny him any access to urine aroma for several days, which in itself is a severe ordeal for any properly broken knicker slave. He is soon pleading most pathetically at my feet, and I allow him to crawl inside my skirt for a few seconds before I kick him away. The aroma drives him frantic and only makes his craving more intense. Naturally, it is not difficult to persuade him into the head sleeve when the time comes.

As the draw strings are tied tightly around their necks, slaves undergoing this punishment for the first time are apt to panic at the feeling of imprisonment. They may squirm and struggle for a time, but they soon realise the elastic in the knickers is stronger than they are, and there is no escape. When he settles down I close the air vent and fill the crotch piece with urine. This quickly soaks through the porous material, and his craving draws him to the wet, slimy nylon like a magnet. What he doesn't realise is, that he has taken into his mouth the fine, hair like threads, which are quite undetectable to the palate. As he sucks blissfully away they are working their way insidously down his throat until they touch a sensitive tissue, causing a violent spasm of wretching. By now he is beginning to gasp for air, and as he gulps, the slimy, slippery nylon slides down his throat. Now I open the air vent to revive him. Sometimes I open the knickers and make fun of the poor fool, hooked and wriggling like a fish on a line. It does him good to be ridiculed in his helpless position, and brings home to him what an insignificant, miserable creature he is.'

At her gesture, a young slave was brought out of an adjoining room, and dragged to the platform. While the attendants held him firmly by his dog lead, Miss Lancing brought the open end of the head sleeve close to his face - As he inhaled the female aroma I was amazed to see the change that came over him- He began to moan and roll his head from side to side, and his penis arose to mammoth proportions- She slipped the sleeve over his head for a few moments, then withdrew it. The girls unfastened his collar and he fell at Miss Lancing's feet, shamlessly licking and slobbering over her shoes. 'This one has been kept without urine odour for over a week,' she smiled to the circle of entranced women- My Mistress, I noticed, was rubbing her thighs together and I knew from experience what this meant- I dreaded to think what she would do to me when she got me home. After teasing the wretch, much to the amusement of the audience, she sat down, spread her legs and offered the open sleeve to the now whimpering, besotted urine slave- `Come on then' she urged. The slave scrambled eagerly towards her, his tongue lolling from his half open mouth. Like a starving dog he thrust his head into the inviting silken darkness; 

The strings were quickly drawn around his neck. Miss Lancing leaned back in her chair and relaxed for a few moments.

Presently, Miss Lancing closed the ventilation slit with a flick of her wrist. I saw his chest begin to heave as he gasped and struggled for air in those awful knickers. He threshed and squirmed in frantic desperation, stretching and pulling the knickers into grotesque shapes with his imprisoned head. Miss Lancing braced her legs, gripped the arms of her chair, and arched her back to take the strain- Her eyes glittered with excitement as she played him to exhaustion, like an experienced angler. As he began to slacken his efforts she opened the air vent just enough to keep him active, until, utterly spent, he sank between her legs. Miss Lancing waited with an expectant smile-

Suddenly his whole frame was convulsed with a violent fit of wretching. Miss Lancing jabbed her loins forward, and we could see by the absence of the former bulge in her knickers, that his head had been drawn right up into her crotch. Triumphantly she stood up, legs astride, and peeled the outer knickers down to let the audience see the victim squirming helplessly, his mouth wide open and full of the glistening wet crotch piece. The tip of his nose was already pressing the nylon into her waiting cuntlips, which could be clearly seen through the wet, clinging material- For a few moments she amused herself and her audience by wriggling her hips. Each movement causing a spasm of watching and choking, which only served to draw the bulb further down his throat and press his nose deeper into her vulva.
 

Very excited

I could see that Miss Lancing was becoming very excited, as her eyes dilated with her mounting passions. She made her excuses to the watching ladies, and the attendants brought on a padded stool and a screen. While she zipped up the knickers again, turned and arranged her victims head on the stool, the screen was unfolded and set in place-

All the ladies realised there are some moments not suitable for public display, and they began to discuss the afternoon's events in excited whispers- The screen was of the folding variety, with three leaves, and it so happened I was able to see through the narrow slit where they joined- The shiny latex of the knickers began to mote up and down as Miss Lancing took her pleasure. Of her slave there was no sound, he being deeply embedded and immobilised in the voluminous folds of soaked nylon. Her buttocks continued to move with an undulating motion, accompanied by a rustling, 'squadge - squadge', 'squidge - squadge', caused, no doubt, by urine that had collected in the legs of the knickers-

At length the screen was removed to reveal Miss Lancing sitting in her chair, her knickers open, and her slave still imprisoned between her thighs, gently weezing for air. Even where I was I could smell the foetid odours of urine and perspiration, and I shuddered to think what it must have been like to have ones face mercilessly ground in the hot, steaming darkness of those terrible knickers -

'At this stage' Miss Lancing commented, 'one has to wait for a few moments then the bulbous piece comes up quite easily- As if in obedience, the slave gave a violent heave and fell slobbering and spent at her feet- Amidst rapturous applause the slave was dragged and kicked from the room by the girl attendants, and Miss Lancing was surrounded by eager women plying her with questions- It was a very apprehensive group of slaves who dressed to go home, and I for one determined to serve my Mistress with absolute avidity and devotion in the hope she would not find it necessary to put me in those horrible knickers of terror -