We were approaching Christmas, a time of year that I usually love, but this year was different. Laura had decided that we each owed it to our own families to spend the festive days with them, rather than she and I together. “After all, poppet,” she had explained, “you and I can spend all year together, but your Mum and my parents will be dreadfully upset if they don't see us. You do agree, don't you?”

“Er... I suppose so, Miss,” I said, unable to disguise my disappointment at us not spending our first Christmas Day together.

Moreover, my sister, Phoebe, had already told Laura—to whom she spoke regularly on the phone—that she would be at Mum's as well. “Your sister will be there,” Laura had assured me, in the bizarre belief that this was some sort of incentive that would sell the idea.

“That's part of the problem,” I tried to explain.

“Because she likes to tease you, poppet? That's what older sisters do. I'm sure you can stand up for yourself.”

The almost sadistic way that my sister treated me when she spent the weekend at our flat very much concerned me. Laura could tell I was anxious. “She'll be on best behaviour when your mother's around. Your Mum will be there to protect her precious little son from any harm,” Laura laughed, but not in an unkind way. She was simply trying to say that I had nothing to worry about.

“I hope so, Miss,” I concluded, resigned to my fate.

“As a special concession, sweetie, I'll let you wear your macho clothes while you're there, over your panties, obviously!” What Laura referred to as my “macho” clothes were my normal male trousers, shirts, jumpers and socks that I used to wear until she had decided I had to go “unisex”. My old male clothes were still locked in the boot of my car.

“Thank you, Miss,” I replied, genuinely touched by her thoughtfulness. Having to wear effeminate outfits at Mum's house was something that particularly concerned me, and I was certain that Phoebe would have weaponised my strange appearance.

“Do you think Eric will be there, Miss?” I asked.

“How would I know?” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

“I don't suppose you would know, Miss,” I agreed. “Just as long as Zoe's not there...”

“Why on earth would Zoe be there? She's got her own family. Eric might be there as Phoebe's fiancé, but Zoe is just a friend. Stop getting worked up, muffin!”

“You're right, Miss, I'm probably worrying about nothing.” Despite saying that, in my heart I felt I probably had good grounds to be fearful. “Er... do I have to wear my... er... cage, Miss?” I tentatively asked, hoping she might unlock me.

“Don't push your luck, sweetheart,” she replied, firmly. “Why on earth do you think you need to have a free willy? What on earth are you planning to do?” She stared at me, incredulously.

I blushed. In truth, I wasn't planning to do anything, but it would have been nice to have spent a few days unrestrained. “What about emergencies, Miss? Medical emergencies?” I asked, clutching at straws.

“Needing to have a wank doesn't qualify as a medical emergency, muffin,” she giggled, deliberately misunderstanding me. “You'll be fine! Trust me.”

oooOOooo

The days passed quickly and soon Christmas Eve morning was upon us. I was due to drive halfway across the country to my mother's house, not returning until Boxing Day. I would be away for two nights.

We were both up early. I was giving Laura a lift to the station so she could get a train back to her home.

The thought of not seeing one another for a couple of nights panged us both and, not surprisingly, Laura expected some oral attention before we both rose to get showered and dressed.

She didn't unlock me, but she did allow me to fondle her breasts and gentle nibble her nipples. We spent so long in each other's arms that it was then a rush to get ready, otherwise Laura was going to miss her train.

oooOOooo

Having dropped Laura at the railway station, and the pair of us having another quick snog on the forecourt, I continued my journey to my home town. At least I was wearing male clothes, save for my panties, obviously, so I tried to put a brave face on spending two days with my vengeful sister.

I arrived at Mum's house around lunchtime, and I was perturbed to see two cars on the drive that I did not recognise. As I got out of my car, Phoebe came out of the house to meet me, followed by none other than my archnemesis, Zoe. What was she doing there? Only later did I discover that her parents were on a cruise and my mother had taken pity on her and invited her to stay for Christmas. Talk about bad luck! For me, that was.

Both girls were three years my senior, and both bore their usual air of self-confidence and natural authority. I felt queasy looking at the pair of them, but then remembered Laura's advice that no harm could befall me because my mother would be there.

It was Zoe who spoke first. “Hello, Stephanie,” she chirped, smiling that beguiling smile that gave the impression of pure innocence while masking evil intent. She looked as stunning as ever, but I knew that her beautiful appearance concealed a dark side to her nature.

“Shush!” I instinctively responded, fearful that my mother, still in the house, might hear me addressed as Stephanie.

“Don't you shush my friend,” admonished Phoebe. “Mum knows, so I don't understand what you're getting agitated about.”

“Knows... knows what?”

“Ahem! Where are your manners, Stephanie,” interrupted Zoe. “I suggest you rephrase that question into a more respectful form.”

I knew what she wanted. And I also knew that arguing was pointless, especially as it was likely to attract attention from my mother inside the house.

“Knows what... Miss?”

Phoebe and Zoe both smiled before the former replied, “That you dress as a girl... Oh, gosh! It wasn't a secret, was it, Stephanie?” The grin on her face told me that she knew perfectly well that it was supposed to be a secret.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Phoebe cut me short by adding, “Golly! Sorry, it must have slipped out, unlike your willy, which I'm sure won't be slipping out at any time soon.”

Zoe grinned, as I squirmed with embarrassment.

“What else does Mum know... Miss?” I nervously asked.

“That's for you to find out, poppet,” replied Phoebe, mimicking Laura. “But I imagine there's always more she could be told.” Her threatening tone made me feel scared.

“Anyway, why are you dressed as a man today? You don't fool us,” added Zoe, eyeing me up and down.

“Er... Miss Laura said I could... Miss.”

“Gosh, of course! His girlfriend tells him how to dress. How pathetic!” concluded Phoebe, looking at Zoe, who was smiling and nodding in agreement. I had not even got into the house, yet my sister and her friend had managed to humiliate me on the driveway.

“What's Mum going to think, if I call you both Miss... Miss?”

“That you're being polite and respectful?” opined Zoe, with a smirk.

And then another thought crossed my mind. “I... I don't have to call Mum, Miss, do I... Miss?”

“Noooo! That would be stupid,” answered Zoe. She paused long enough to see my face relax a shade before adding, “You need to call her Ma'am.”

“I... I can't do that! It will embarrass you two, as well as me, if I call you Miss and call Mum, Ma'am.”

Both girls were laughing, but looked at one another, as if assessing the upsides and downsides of humiliating me further.

“I'll tell you what,” decided Phoebe, “as it's Christmas, we'll be kind, and we'll play a game of forfeits. Every time you don't call us Miss or don't call our mother, Ma'am, you'll have to write out two punishment lines. That sounds fair, doesn't it, Zoe?”

“Far too fair, I think!” Zoe replied.

“Zoe and I will be the judges of deciding when you've infringed the rules, and we will let you know the total number of lines to be written. You'll need to write, scan and email them to me within a week of getting home.”

I tried to do a rough estimate of how many lines I would be expected to write. It was likely to be hundreds, but I felt I had no choice. Perhaps I could refuse to write them, and Laura might back me up, but I doubted it.

“Okay, Miss,” I conceded.

“Good decision, Stephanie,” answered Zoe. “If you're thinking otherwise, I'm sure Miss Phoebe will have a word with Miss Laura and persuade her that you need to fulfil your side of the bargain. Oh, and, another thing, we don't want him telling lies, do we, Miss Phoebe?”

“Good point, Miss Zoe. So, if you don't honestly answer any question put to you, that will be another hundred lines added to the total. Understood?”

“Yes, Miss.” I got the strong feeling these rules had all been discussed beforehand by my pair of tormentors.

oooOOooo

Once inside, I embraced my mother, whom I had not seen for many months. She was keen to know how I was, and I avoided calling her anything other than Mum, while shunning eye contact with the two girls.

Mum didn't seem to think there was anything unusual about me or my life with Laura. I began to wonder whether Phoebe had been lying when she said that Mum knew things—Phoebe was quite capable of such deceit.

And then my mother said, “Have you met Eric, Phoebe's fiancé?” She took me through to the kitchen, where Eric was washing dishes. He was dressed casually, in much the same way as I was. Turning, he gave me a faint smile, but he did not look like someone who was enjoying himself.

“Hello, Eric,” I ventured. “I'm Steve.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied, in a resigned manner. “I've heard all about you.” What had Phoebe told him?

oooOOooo

Nothing more was said, and I took my suitcase up to my old bedroom. I was surprised to see there was another case already there, so, on getting back to the kitchen, I asked my mother where I was sleeping.

“In your old room, Steve,” she replied.

“Oh! There's already a case there.”

“Yes, you're going to have to share with Eric?”

She couldn't miss the puzzled expression on my face. “Yes, share! You know there are only three bedrooms and there are five people here. I can't exactly ask Zoe to share with you, can I, so Zoe will be in the same room as Phoebe, and you'll be sharing with Eric. One of you will have to sleep on the floor, okay?”

“Er... yes, I suppose so, Mum,” I conceded.

oooOOooo

We all had a light lunch and then spent the afternoon chatting, putting up the Christmas tree and lights, decorating the house, and generally getting ready for the big day. We were almost like a normal family, and I was beginning to think this might be an almost normal Christmas.

It was when we were sat down for dinner that evening that the conversation took a sinister turn. Mum opened the conversation with a bombshell. “Phoebe's been telling me that you two boys have needed to seek medical advice over a little addiction problem—well, actually, not a little problem, but a big, disturbing one.”

If Eric and I looked perplexed, it was because we were. Phoebe had to step in. “Gosh! Yes! I was telling Mum that you have both had to be prescribed medical devices to tackle a problem that usually only affects teenage boys.”

The penny dropped that this was a reference to our chastity devices.

“I think it was very brave of you both to seek professional help,” continued my mother. “Phoebe tells me the devices don't provide a cure, but they do stop the problem in its tracks, for as long as the device is worn. Isn't that right, Phoebe?”

“Yes, Mum. That's spot on. They will have to wear the devices for as long as they have male urges, which could be into their eighties—or even nineties. You can think of the device as similar to something that stops men snoring—it only works when they're wearing it.” She giggled at her little quip.

“Yes, I see, Phoebe. And... and do you find it's helping, Steve?”

“Er... yes, Mum, but... but can we change the subject... please.”

“Sorry, I didn't want to embarrass you, but I wanted you to know that I'm proud of you—and Eric—for admitting to a problem. I only wished I knew that there had been a medical solution twenty years ago when your Dad had the same trouble. We might still be together, had there been.”

oooOOooo

Mum went to bed at 10.30, but it wasn't until 11.30 that the rest of us turned in. As I passed my mother's door I heard her gentle breathing, showing she was sound asleep.

I still wasn't sure how the sleeping arrangements were going to work. I only had a single bed, so would Eric be sleeping on the floor, or would that be my lot? Or would we take it in turns, over the two nights? Phoebe and Zoe were okay, because their bedroom had a double bed, and I had a strong suspicion they would be sharing it.

I followed Eric into my old room, and was about to open the discussion on who would sleep where when Phoebe swept in.

“In case you're wondering, you're both sleeping in that bed,” she explained, in a loud whisper.

“What?!” Eric and I exclaimed, simultaneously.

“Keep your voices down, you idiots! You heard! You're sleeping together. This is not up for discussion.”

“But it's a single bed,” I argued, in a soft voice.

“So? It'll be cosy.”

“No, I'll sleep on the floor,” I declared, trying to put my foot down. “Eric can have the bed.”

At this point, Zoe walked into the room, which I sensed meant trouble. “Are they arguing?” she asked Phoebe, in a low voice.

“Trying to, but failing,” responded Phoebe.

Zoe took charge, as usual. “Both of you strip off. Now!”

I shook my head, and Eric did the same. “We... we can't do that,” I exclaimed.

“Do it!” hissed Zoe. “If you create a scene, you'll wake your mother. Get undressed, or do Miss Phoebe and I need to undress you. I'm sure neither of you has the balls to fight us off.”

Actually, the thought of having a wrestling match with Zoe was very appealing, but she was right that there was a high risk of waking my mother. Therefore, reluctantly, Eric and I both started to undress. Looking sheepishly at one another, we removed everything apart from our jeans.

“Keep going,” demanded Zoe, who was revelling in our discomfort. “And keep facing one another.”

Together, we both undid our top buttons, slid down our zips and then pulled down our jeans. I was wearing a pair of white satin panties, edged with lace. I dreaded the moment that Eric would catch sight but then, to my astonishment, I saw he was revealing pink knickers.

We were almost identically dressed, apart from the colour of our undies. But there was one difference. Eric was completely shaved from the neck down. His body seemed not to have a single hair whereas Laura had never, ever, suggested I should denude myself of hair.

Phoebe and Zoe fixed their eyes on us as Eric and I looked each other up and down, shocked by the sight that greeted us. “Panties off,” hissed Zoe.

Knowing that resistance was pointless, I eased mine down, revealing my pink chastity device. Eric did the same and I was astonished to see he was locked into an identical pink restraint. We looked at each other, both red with embarrassment.

“Erica, face Stephanie and put your arms around him,” ordered Zoe, still keeping her voice down. He did so and, from somewhere, she produced a pair of handcuffs and secured his wrists behind my back. I was then told to thrust my left arm between his body and his right arm, and my right arm around his left arm. A second pair of cuffs then pinioned my wrists together.

Eric and I were now interlocked in a firm embrace, our chests pressing one against the other, and our faces almost in contact. We had no way of separating from one another. “These cuffs are needed just in case you decide to disobey us and not share a bed. I'm sure you both understand,” mocked Zoe, gleefully.

Then, with some difficulty, we were manoeuvred onto the narrow bed and Phoebe covered us with the duvet.

“Sweet dreams, girls,” whispered Phoebe.

“Nightie night, sleep tight,” added Zoe.

The two girls turned off the light and left us alone with the bedroom door closed. I had never been in such close contact with a man—and a naked man at that. I could feel Eric's body heat and feel his breath on my cheeks. Despite me not being gay, but possibly because of the humiliation I was feeling, the experience was strangely arousing, and I felt pains of discomfort from inside my restraint as my penis attempted to engorge. For once, I was pleased I was wearing a chastity cage because I would have died from embarrassment if I had pushed against him with a full-blown erection.

Was he in the same predicament? Was he becoming aroused? Judging from some groans coming from him, I reckoned he was.

“Sorry about this,” I whispered, for want of something better to say.

“So you should be,” he hissed. “This is your fucking fault. Phoebe got the idea of humiliating me from what you get up to with Laura.”

“Oh, my God, I'm very sorry,” I replied, in a soft voice.

Nothing was said for a few minutes, and then Eric continued, speaking quietly, “Sorry. I'm not really blaming you, Steve. Yeah, you are the source of Phoebe's inspiration, but I fell into a trap.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was fun and games in the bedroom to start, but once she got me in this damn chastity cage, she upped the ante. Wanted me to do things to earn release, like wear...