Later that evening, Justin sits at the dinner table, dressed in his best suit; in navy blue velvet, with, as usual, short, rather tight trousers.
He steals a glance to the other side of the table where Lady Fenton sits imperiously, dressed in a shimmering, low-necked cream evening gown; her décolletage adorned by a silver chain, from which dangles the tiny key, she most graciously agreed to accept, that very afternoon, in response to Justin's humiliating request.
"For goodness sake Justin, stop fidgeting!" hisses his stepmother, Lady Agatha, "What on earth will Sophie think about a young man who can't sit still in his seat?"
Poor Justin, not yet accustomed to the weighty encumbrance attached to his genitals, manages to utter an embarrassed response: "Sorry, mummy".
'The Honorable' Sophie is sitting to his left, dressed in an adorable, floral, full-skirted, ankle-length crepe de chine dress. Her heavy, expensive 'Femme de Rochas' perfume drifting towards Justin.
Resting her hand ever so gently, on Justin's trousered thigh, in an encouraging but teasing gesture, she remonstrates with Lady Agatha:
"Why, Lady Agatha, don't be so hard on Justin. I have always found these dining chairs to be terribly hard. I'm beginning to wish for myself, that I had worn rather more substantial knickers to protect my bottom. These tiny black chiffon panties offer little padding!"
The assembled company, burst into laughter. At least the four females were amused, but of course, their gaiety was not shared by our hero, who was blushing under their gaze, whilst struggling to keep still and ignore the delicate fingers of his pretty neighbour.
Another female hand now landed softly on his left thigh, naked, below trouser level. It belonged, of course, to his step-sister who was wearing the tightest turquoise Capri pants imaginable, finishing mid-calf, and exposing her delectable ankles, shod in red high heeled sandals. Justin's penis is now straining inside its hard curved iron prison, with a delicious combination of arousal, frustration and pain.
"I agree Sophie, mummy is so bossy with us. She thinks I should have worn my evening gown tonight. Why should I? It will soon be the 1960's and I'll do just as I please!"
Lady Fenton interrupted, whilst fingering the little key, at her bosom:
"That is all very well for you girls, Clarissa, but we ladies have a very special duty to conduct the behavior of the young men in their charge."
Tompkins arrived to serve the first course - lobster soup.
"Now, let us enjoy our dinner in peace! Serve the champagne Tompkins."
"Will the young gentleman be partaking, madam?"
Penelope looks to Agatha for a sign.....
"No, he can have some of that lovely apple juice that Gwen made yesterday."
Fortunately for Justin, for the remainder of the meal, he and his female tormentors were preoccupied with the three superb courses placed before them, whilst the conversation turned to that most frequent upper-class feminine topic, of horses, ponies and riding, without his involvement.
As the dishes were being cleared, Lady Fenton, clearing her throat, made a suggestion to her daughter:
"Sophie darling, why don't you take Justin outside to the east garden, and show him the summer borders?"
