The Three Year Itch
by
Anne Browning

It was my own stubbornness and insensitivity that lead me into
situation I'm in now, that and the deviousness of my wife and her friend. I
married Julie four years ago. She is slim and very attractive. Beneath the
dark blonde hair are a wide good-humored mouth, sparkling green eyes, and
an upturned nose. Julia is tall for a woman, 5'8" and that was one of the
problems we faced. We were both at college, I was attracted to her but was
told by my college so called friends that I had no chance, there was no way
she would put it out to me. To everyone's surprise, not the least my own we
are now married.
I am not very large, slim and about 5'8"dark, with dark blonde
hair, green eyes, a wide mouth; and have very fine features for a
male. Sounds familiar doesn't it. I'm or at least was, very aggressive. I'm
sure it was not genetic, but the result of my background. Throughout my
childhood, I was constantly referred to as being "far too pretty for a
boy"; "he really should have been born a girl." it never stopped. By the
time I was in high school I was referred to as girlish. The constant
teasing and the unfortunate choice of Cornel as my name, which was
shortened to Nell or Nellie, created a large chip on my shoulder. The
nicest description my friends used was feisty, but really they meant
aggressive and a bully. All the time I was on the look out for some way to
prove that I was not effeminate but really a tough guy.
It is said that opposites attract, that's not true as far as my
wife Julia is concerned, as you can see from the two descriptions she is
almost ways a mirror image of myself. Unlike me she is quiet, almost shy,
but beneath that is a strong will and as I was to find out a very devious
mind. Julia did not like my character and was determined to change it to
one more acceptable to her own nature. With the help of her friend it took
Julia a year to bring her plans to fruition. I found out to my loss, that
not it is not only males that set out to gain a trophy, women also do it
Her friend Sylvia gave her a challenge, to change one of the most
aggressive guys at college into a feminized wimp, Julia accepted and that
is how I find myself in a position that I'd have never believed possible.
By profession I'm an economist, and as my personality is not client
friendly,-I don't suffer fools- my main success has been in research. After
several incidents with employers I now work for a small investment company
specializing in Real Estate owned by a woman whom I've helped made quite
rich.
The problems started after three years of marriage, we'd moved away from
Boston to Portland Oregon. Julie had lost her friends, through distance and
now wanted to work. She'd just completed a Diploma in real estate
management and now wanted to put it into practice. I had not minded her
going to college, but her wanting to work, that was something else. Julia
wanted me to approach Ms Roth, the owner about joining Aurora
Investments. Ms Roth I knew was seeking someone with Julia's skills, but I
was not prepared to help my wife.
It was quite selfish, I was the provider and the thought of Julia
having independent means though a job, I considered as a snide attack upon
my manhood. It was all in my own mind of course, but that did nothing to
diminish the feeling. I wanted my wife to stay at home so I would be the
center of her world, and receive her total attention. She seemed very much
in love with me and would not openly go against my wishes. She at realized
the futility of trying to change my mind; it was then Julia used more
subtle means however it was nearly a year later before I discovered how
devious she had been.
One night, after having fought over her working that morning, I
came home to find her dressed or 'undressed' in her sexiest lingerie, with
soft music playing, and a candle light dinner. I thought, foolishly, as I
was to learn later, that at last I had won the battle against her taking up
a career. As you may have guessed since the start of our arguments, my sex
life had been rather sparse, and this was a heaven send. We danced, we ate,
and then we made love all night.
After this my wife seemed to become a glutton for sex: every night,
every morning, and all day on weekends. She even started waking me up, in
the middle of the night to make love. Needless to say, after several weeks
the constant pressure made it difficult to perform. After my third attempt
at five in the morning and another failure Julia decided I should see her
doctor. It was Sylvia, her former high school girl friend who had issued
the challenge to Julia, not that I was aware of at the time.
Sylvia Bryce had gone onto to medical school and had begun a
practice in Portland. I had thought it quite a coincidence at the time, not
having any idea of the relationship that existed between the two. Sylvia
and I had always been uncomfortable in each other's presence, and it was
quite traumatic appearing undressed before her.
Despite the titters from Doctor Sylvia on the shape of my body
there turned out to be nothing wrong with me. However I was run down and
she gave Julie a prescription for vitamins. These I later found out were
female hormone tablets. It was the beginning of my feminization, a
carefully prepared plot hatched by the two of them to change my
character. Julie picked up the medicine, and I accepted it as a means of
recovering my health.
I started my therapy the next morning. It didn't take long for my
temperament to change, over the next few weeks I began to lose my
aggression, nothing that I really noticed, but the people about me, began
to realize I was less argumentative and was prepared to agree with their
point of view. Julie maintained she was not active enough, and was turning
to fat and it was time to diet. Since it was mainly my fault in stopping
her from working it was my duty to diet also. Very soon I was down from a
thirty-four to a twenty eight-inch waist, and from the lack of protein had
lost muscle tone.
Consequently my clothes were oversized and my wife began buying me
a new wardrobe. Before this I had never allowed my wife to purchase my
clothes. However, I believe, due to my constantly being drained by sexual
activity, I was finding myself a much less aggressive male than before. I
had become less tense and more willing to conform to other's wishes. My
boss had even mentioned my new spirit of cooperation, which she said was
surprising to find in a male.
I went from one pill a day to two; they did seem to work. It was
in a strange way, but I did feel an uplift after taking them, one with
breakfast and one with dinner. My hair took on a new life, I was beginning
to thin on the top, but after a month on the medication it thickened and
became more luxuriant. So much so that Julie insisted I must get it cut, my
character had not changed that much, and I reverted to normal. No one was
going to tell me when to cut my hair! Over the months the more she insisted
I cut the longer it became. Until at last I was forced to pull it back into
a ponytail, now quite fashionable.
Still the changes continued. As I said, none of my clothes fitted
properly any more. My wife continued her campaign by buying me new
underwear. One day I returned home to find her cutting up all my cotton
underwear. "What are you doing?"
"I needed rags, and since none of your underwear fits I bought you
a new supply and am making good use of your old stuff for the only thing
cotton underwear is good for anyway."
I did not like the emphasis on the word cotton but I was in a sexy
mood anyway so I stripped giving her my underwear and getting ready for my
after work massage and bath. My wife had started to complain about my body
odor and was making me take hot baths when I got home. These she scented
with her own bath salts! After the bath she would massage my entire body
with scented lotion, concentrating on my rough hands, my hairless chest,
and privates!
It didn't take long for my masculinity to harden and throb under
her talented caresses. It had become a nightly ritual followed by our
regular lovemaking. At this point in my secret hormone treatment it was the
only way I could really get off (did I notice that my emissions were less
copious than "before"?). In this manner, being the controller of our sexual
activity, my wife had established power over me.
That night, following sex, I showered and then went into the
bedroom to get dressed. I found my underwear drawer full of men's silky
feeling nylon briefs and tee shirts. Upon checking the socks I found only
silken ones.
"Honey, where is my underwear?" I asked.
"It s in your bureau drawer, where it always is dear"
"But it's all nylon!"
'So?"
"But I like cotton underwear, that's what I always wear." She
walked into the room with a smile. "Darling its' far easier to wash and
dry, and you'll like wearing it dear. It won't scratch your skin like
cotton will. Come on honey, try it, I'm sure you will learn to love wearing
it. After all I don't wear cotton underwear and you've never complained and
I find the slippery nylon very sexy." "I don't know dear, it quite a
change." "Oh come on darling perhaps it'll help your little problem! Or
your big problem! Please try it, at least once. After all, that's all that
is in the house. Unless you want to try mine? They're a little fancier than
yours, but it's all right with me, you would look pretty cute in my
panties, want to try?"
"No! I don't okay, I'll wear my own nylon underwear."
And with that I put the briefs on, but it seemed I was no longer in
charge. I could not win an argument with my wife for I was frightened of
her revealing to our friends my sexual problems. My inability to obtain an
instant erection was becoming a never-ending source of torment to me. Up
till now any sense of effeminising that I may have felt was banished by my
sexual prowess. Now it took some time to stimulate me with hot baths and
cool lotions and for a man like me it was the ultimate insult. I hoped she
didn't gossip about it at the beauty salon or with her friends over coffee
when I was at work.
It was obvious that she had tasted power and realized that I was
losing the battle to prevent her become a working girl. I didn't know that
this was only the first stage of the domination she and Sylvia had
planned. Winning the right to work was only the first stage, it had wetted
Sylvia's appetite, and she would not be satisfied until she had gained
complete dominance. From the moment I donned the nylon tricot briefs she
knew she had won.
"Now that's much better she ejaculated. I'm definitely going to
keep you in nylon and silk from now on!"
"And I have no choice?"
"Not unless you start seeing a sex therapist about you little
problem, a young man like you having trouble with your ....... isn't that
just the sorriest story you ever heard? . I was talking to Sylvia last
Tuesday and..."
"No, please, you didn't tell anyone, please. Oh darling how could
you. I'm sorry, listen, it won't happen again, tonight or any night I
promise, I'll be able to do anything just don't tell anyone..."
"Why honey, don't get yourself all upset, just ask me nicely, and
say darling, please don't tell anyone about my little problem, please."
"Please, darling, please don't tell anyone about my 'little'
problem, please, and I'll wear this stuff, OK? It's not as if it didn't
have a fly," I laughed weakly. " And besides, the smoothness seems to turn
me on."
It was settled and I stayed in nylon socks and white tricot under
wear. Even this didn't last long as my wife 'accidentally' dropped a red
towel in with the whites and my underwear was changed to pink. At that
point I refused to wear them, but again was forced to back down. We had
agreed that Julie was better suited to control our finances, and my
allowance would nod not stretch to completely throwing them out. No matter
what argument I used she would not budge.
"I'm sorry about your underwear honey, but we really cannot afford
to throw out good clothing just because of some silly sexist notions. It is
not as though anyone is going to see them, or do you do things in the
toilet that I no nothing about?"
"Of course not." I replied indignantly.
She shrugged her shoulders, in a who cares manner. "Besides I think
you look wonderful in pink! However if you really can't stand them I'll
make you a trade. Since we've been dieting we're about the same waist size
so you can have some of my white panties and dance pants for your pink
ones! Isn't that just the answer, and you've lost so much weight that I'm
sure you'd fit into my white camisoles and teddies. I've always wanted to
try your tee shirts anyway, besides I think you'll look very becoming,
quite pretty in lace! Yes I have some white panties with ruffles and french
lace that should look divine."
"Oh, ... thanks but no thanks. I mean, pink is okay, I guess, as
long as no one sees them, but I'll get a couple of white ones a week out of
my allowance and wash them myself. "
"Maybe honey if I was working we could afford more."
I no longer had the ability to resist her and agreed that this
might solve a number of problems.
I told Julia my investment company was advertising for a real
estate consultant, and working together sounded to such fun. She had all
the qualities they had advertised for and I would sound out my boss. I
didn't like the idea, but at least I could keep a check on her win back
some form of control.
Ms Roth, my boss, and the owner of Aurora Investments found Julie
the ideal candidate and she was employed immediately. Despite the energy
she put into her own work, it did little to diminish her sexual appetite
and my little problems continued unabated
I'd suggested doing my own washing, and I thought Julia had
forgotten all about it, but a week after starting work she brought the
subject up. "Seeing you suggested it, why don't you begin this weekend. As
well as giving me more time to rest, I'll be able to get you some clothes
that fit you. Yours are just hanging on you now."
That weekend I learned more than just how to use a washer. I
learned how to wash, dry, and to press. Not only own my clothes, but hers
as well, Julie showed how to wash, iron, and care for her lingerie, bras,
and girdles. She wanted us to share the house keeping now she was a working
woman, It seemed a fair compromise, although I was well paid, the
additional; money would allow further investment for the future.
At the same time I felt I was falling further and further under her
control. I felt uncomfortable handling her intimate apparel; it made me
more aware of my own 'lingerie', even if they were only simple white
panties.
Sunday afternoon was spent ironing; Julia set me up in the living
room with the clothes, hers and mine. Before the day was over I could do
pleats with the best, it was tiring hot work, I was not helped by Julia,
parading around dressed only in a red silk slip, garterbelt and black
stockings. She delighted in brushing against me, blowing in my ear, even
caressing my nylon clad genitals (which by now were as hard as ever), and
gently nibbling my behind. Although I knew she was manipulating me, I
accepted her ploy, it such a turn-on.
My reward was a scented bath and full body massage; finished by her
silken clad body on top of mine and her making love to me like never
before. This continued over the weeks, the more enthusiasm I put into her
laundry, the better was our Sunday night of sex.
At this point I had been taking the pills and dieting for about six
months. Over the period my body had changed drastically, much of my muscle
tone was gone, my voice was somewhat higher, my hair was less coarse, and
my body hair was beginning to thin. My skin, now almost hairless, and
continuously bathed, spiced, massaged, had a feminine sheen. The process
had been so gradual and well managed by Doctor Sylvia and Julie that I was
not conscious of how drastic the changes were.
I could no longer maintain the same sexual appetite. Now it
required my wife's initiation and control to bring me to full erection. It
was when Julia decided, she chose when I could have pleasure and it
occurred only when the family washing and ironing was complete. These were
dispensed to reinforce my sexual behavior and now I was actually looking
forward to doing the weekend washes. She continued to intensify these
feminising activities by making our entire sex contingent the quality of my
work. Weekday sex was rare used only as a tool to reinforce some wish of
hers. I later learned this training was called petticoat control
Next she bought me new outerwear, sending all my clothes to a
charity, while I was out one Saturday ensuring I had no choice but follow
her dictates. Even the clothes I was wearing were destroyed while I was
taking a bath, preparing for our lovemaking. Her excuse was my boss, Ms
Roth had insisted that my current wardrobe was too awful to be seen by any
clients, and must be replaced. I was very upset that it had been done
without my consent. But Julie said, "don't be silly, you know you'd have
got into one of your stubborn moods and refused to do it."
The clothing she bought was contemporary bordering on the artistic,
but it all had a unisexual look to it. " They're really cool darling, you
look spunky." "Don't you think they look rather feminine?" "There you go
again. It's the new Paris look, stop worrying about what other people
think. Don't be so paranoid." Despite Julia scoffing at my conservatism I
still thought they were less artistic and more feminine. All the pants were
tight at the ankles and tight in the behind. My jeans sported fancy back
pockets and all had a feminine cut. The dress pants were either linen or
doeskin, where I had always worn cotton or corduroy. All the shirts were of
batiste or silky challis; the ties were all silk. The shoes were all patent
leather.
The night this change occurred we made love after my nightly
massage and I knew something was up. After my post sex shower my wife dried
me and handed me my new robe of satin. The argument that ensued was nothing
compared to the one over my new wardrobe. Nevertheless, in the end victory
was hers. Especially since I had nothing else to wear and had now lost the
will to argue for the purchase of more conservative clothing.
In these new clothes I spent most of my time at home or work. I was
to embarrassed to be any-where else. The initial reaction of my colleagues
was derision, and their innuendoes left no doubt as to their opinion of my
new attire. They were macho to say the least, they drank, gambled, and
womanized, and only months ago I had lead them in this behavior, now I was
the outsider. They neither understood or accepted my new character, now I
was some one different, a black sheep, 'pussy whipped'. Someone to be
reviled and picked upon by the rest of the flock. Strangely Ms Roth not
only accepted my change of attire, but also helped protect me against my
colleagues. My wife was quite pleased because now I spent all my
non-working at home. By default I took over much of the household duties,
as she took the opportunity to become a full time career.
No longer accepted by my work colleagues and to embarrassed to
socialize I spent more and more time researching investment opportunities
and the results proved very profitable. My wife quickly learned to make use
of my efforts, and quickly became a key player in the real estate sales. To
Ms Roth results were everything, up till now our relationship had been
strained. She had accepted I had unique talents and my work was excellent
but our personalities clashed. She was the dominating type, and I did not
follow orders well. Now I had lost most, if not all, of my male
aggressiveness and the new behavior pleased her.
Her own views on sexuality were not known but it was possible to
surmise. She dressed in very expensive severely tailored suits, elegant but
not very feminine; they were more masculine than feminine. All the men she
had been seen with were effeminate. My current style of apparel pleased
her. In fact she had commented on the improvement in my taste in clothes
several times and suggested my wife continue in her role as my wardrobe
mistress.
Next came the rash. My wife commented on the red blotch on my
thighs while drying me one night. Two days later after it had spread she
sent me to her doctor again. It was diagnosed as a rare rash brought on by
a certain sensitivity of the skin. The Doctor, Julia's friend Sylvia Bryce,
prescribed a cream for the rash and strongly recommended to Julia a change
in my wardrobe.
"Usually this type of rash is much more extensive," said Doctor
Bruce to my wife, ignoring me, treating me as if I was a small
boy. "However your husband's choice of smooth nylon underwear has given him
some protection. Nevertheless silk or satin would be preferable; these
fabrics will cause less irritation to his skin. He must use the cream, and
wear silk panties. It won't be a big change to the underwear he already
seems to prefer."
"I won't", I started to interject, but a glare from my wife
silenced me.
"At home I see no problem, I have several pairs of both silk and
satin pants he can wear."
Doctor Sylvia raised her eyebrows. "Really Julie? You must let me
see him. I'm sure he'll look so pretty."
I tried to think of a reply, but I was too humiliated, and dropped
my eyes unable to face the superior smile on her lips. My cheeks were hot,
and I knew my whole face had turned crimson with embarrassment. Worst of
all my organ was swelling erect in its slippery nylon confines.
Julie did not come to my rescue, instead agreed with her friend;
she'd make sure I was dressed for her next time we visited. My humiliation
however was just beginning, how would I cope at work?
"It's hardly practical for Nelly to wear them at work, at least at
present." Said Julia. "Would silk stockings work? They're higher than his
socks, and would protect the thigh area?"
"Yes, but the rash is that bad he needs more. Silk bloomers would
be more suitable; they'd reach below his knees and protect the most badly
effected area. At home though, the outerwear should be silk or satin;
they're fabrics which will give the most protection. After treatments with
the cream, his skin will gradually heal and he maybe able to return to
normal, though I won't guarantee it.
With a laugh my wife replied," by that time Nell might prefer to
continue wearing them. Once a body gets use to silk and satin it's hard to
change."
"Excuse me," I said, almost shouting to break into the
conversation. "I'm not wearing nylon or silk stockings, I feel stupid
enough already with these new clothes."
Sylvia Bryce said snidely, "Maybe that's not entirely the fault of
the clothes Nellie. Whoops I mean Cornel."
I reddened; there was nothing I hated more than the contraction of
my name.
"You really are being silly," said Sylvia " the changes Julie made
to your wardrobe, and her care of your skin saved you from some very
uncomfortable skin problems which are quite difficult to cure. I suggest
you do as you are told or you may become very ill." Well, I did not do as
I was told. I stayed in the underwear I had been using and remained
unwavering in my refusal to don stockings and bloomers or whatever they
were called. Wearing the new mode clothing was bad enough; I was not going
to wear women's underwear. As if to mock my attitude the rash got worse and
so did Julia's attitude.
The rash was debilitating, and my confidence suffered, decision
making became difficult and I no longer possessed my normal
self-assurance. By now I had become much more dependent on Julia, I was no
longer the strong egotistical man of eight months ago. Sexually it required
her hot oils, masturbation, and mouth to arouse me. When I failed, she
verbally humiliated me while pointing to my flaccid organ "Look at it,
dear, it's so soft and tiny, no bigger than a boys. Is that what you are a
little boy? Or is that what you'd like me to be? A little boy"
Her taunts delivered with a sweet smile and sympathetic voice left
me in tears. At the same time they had the effect of arousing me. As my
tears began to flow my organ would stiffen, the greater the humiliation,
the harder I would become. Sexually I was very confused me to wonder what
on earth was happening to me. I persisted with my attitude for a week at
last the rash had become so bad I could no longer stand it.
"Please Julie help me, I can't stand it any more, I promise do
whatever is necessary and wear what you say"
"Promise to do as I say, and to be a good little boy."
"I do."
"You promise what?"
"I promise to be a good boy and do what you and Sylvia tell
me. I'll never disobey again, I'll always be a good little boy."
With that she took a damp cloth and cleaned my thighs, now bloody
from all the itching.
"I'm sorry but I going to have to shave you. You have let this rash
go to far." She then shaved my entire body and applied what she said was
the doctor' s salve. It deadened the pain and the itch almost
vanished. After all the salve had been smoothed into my body, she handed me
a pair of her rayon pajamas. They were silky and peach colored with frothy
cream lace I began to protest, but one look at the anger on her face stayed
any further words. For the next three days I stayed in bed enjoying the
sensual feel of the satin pajamas as they slithered against satin sheets.
I had to endure the contemptuous look of Dr. Sylvia Bryce as she
examined me. "My you do look pretty, love those pajamas. They really suit
you." It wasn't the words that hurt, but the way they were said.
"Well for the moment the rash is gone, thanks to Julia and her
choice of pajamas. Now are you going to listen to your wife and wear what
you are told." I felt so foolish, there was little I could do but say I
was sorry and it wouldn't happen again.
Next day I was ready to return to work and my wife was ready to
dress me. Before I could put on my nylon panties my wife placed a pink lace
garter belt around my waist!
"What's that?" I exclaimed.
"A pretty garter belt, of course, looks quite nice around you
honey."
"I know what it is, I mean what are you doing?"
"Why you silly goose, I'm putting it around your waist. What did it
look like?"
"I mean why, I won't wear it."
"Honey, you must we don't want your silk stockings falling around
your ankles. Do we? You would look awfully funny running around the office
like that. Now you've already promised to do what you are told as far as
dress is concerned. I don't want to go through another week like the last
two. Now you didn't start crying when I shaved you. Besides the rash,
those smooth legs of yours are crying for stockings, just think how nice
and pretty they'll look and how cool and sexy they'll feel! Just forget
that stupid male vanity of yours."
With that and over my muted objectives she fastened me into the
garter belt and then sat me down on the edge of the bed. The first flush of
anger had exhausted me, now I felt vulnerable and powerless
"Point your toes honey."
She rolled one black silk stocking then the other up my
legs. Fastening the suspenders to the top of the stockings, explaining to
me how to do it in the future. I looked down at my thighs, scarcely
believing that the gartered, silk-stockinged legs were mine, they did feel
cool and sexy.
"You will definitely need a pedicure, to avoid snagging these
stockings." she commented in passing. "But we will take care of that
later."
Then she stood me up and handed me a silken confection; I shook
them opened, horrified at what I saw.
"I can't wear these." In my hands were a pair of pink satin
bloomers, they were knee lengths, with a frill of white lace around the
elastic at the knees. "I can't wear those Julia, please don't make me." I
felt so ashamed that she expected me to wear such a feminine garment, I
could feel my eyes filling with tears. "Please Julia, don't make me."
Her hand cupped my chin, "Nellie, its' all right, no one will see
them. I'm afraid they're rather old fashioned but there was nothing
else. Now come on, be brave."
I drew the bloomers up my legs, the frilled elastic fitted just
below my knees and an elastic band fitted securely about my waist. The
material was soft, silky and slithered about my groin. The combination of
appearing before my wife in such an effeminate garment and slither of the
satin against my most intimate parts began an erection, impossible to
hide."
"Well honey I've enjoyed dressing you, and you look as though you
do too." As she lightly touched my excited member.
I tried to explain that I just couldn't help it, it was not my
fault but she brushed my words aside.
"You will have to learn to do this yourself, it's not that hard we
girls do it every day! Mmm, honey; stand back, now turn around. I must
admit those shaved legs of yours look good in silk. I never realized how
feminine your legs are. You know, I bet you would get plenty of wolf
whistles on Main Street in a mini- skirt, black stockings, and with the
proper padding of course!"
"Oh, please, don't Julia, its'..".
"Hush up! Not that you would need it all over, either. You are
getting pretty full in the behind and hips. I mean your waist is nothing
but the bottom is getting a bit much, I think all this lying in bed has
taken it's toll, perhaps a nice pantie girdle..."
By this time my face was scarlet with shame, and my tears were
flowing freely. Julia told me not to be so silly and hush; after all it was
my own fault that this clothing was necessary. Then came a white satin
camisole, thankfully it was plain with only two simple straps over the
shoulders and it would not show beneath my shirt.
Julia drew from the wardrobe new trousers, they were obviously not
male, but by this time I was beyond argument and just accepted my
fate. They were made of a soft smooth fabric with a distinct luster.
"It's French crepe, honey, doesn't it feel lovely. You can thank
Sylvia for them she knew that they would be just right for your skin
condition."
Julia was right, they were very soft to wear, but I cringed at the
way the fabric clung to my body, looking in the mirror I was certain I
could see the outline of the bloomers, and suspenders.
"Oh darling you are becoming paranoid, of course you can't, its'
all in your imagination."
I had become used to the challis shirts, although they were male
the fabric was too feminine for my liking, but its replacement was far
worse. Julia held up a pale blue shirt. To my horror I realized that it was
a blouse she had worn only last week, the lustrous satin gleamed softly in
the light.
"No Julia I won't. Definitely not."
"Nellie, you are trying my patience. Will you stop this male ego
nonsense; it is what lead to the rash. No one will realize it is a woman's
blouse, your tie will hide the way the buttons fasten on the other side,
now please hurry."
The patterned blue silk tie did hide the buttons, but I still felt
it was going to be obvious that I was wearing a woman's blouse not a male
shirt. Julia rubbished the idea, "honey you're just too
conservative. Besides you'll have to get used to them, La Femme had a sale
yesterday and I managed to get six of them in white blue and cream."
Julia saw the anger in my eyes, "there's no point in arguing
Nellie, all this is your own fault. If you had taken the advice of Sylvia
and I there would never have been a problem. However you and your precious
male ego knew better, now we have got rid of the rash, all you do is
complain. I've just about had enough. Except what I'm doing for you or
leave."
I was shocked, leave. What would I do? There was no one I could
turn to. I just had to accept my fate. Julia was right of course it had
been my own stupidity that had bought it all about. "Please Julia, I'm
sorry. I'll do what you want." My voice betrayed the emotion I felt, I was
almost sobbing.
"Honey, don't cry, I'll look after you, just remember its' for your
own good."
She slid a pair of patent leather loafers on to my feet and helped
me into the jacket. It was the same soft French crepe and fitted
perfectly. Julia dabbed my eyes with her silk handkerchief, "come along
dear, its time for work."
As I walked towards the car, I could feel the gently restraining
garter belt. Moreover, the movement of the silk bloomers against my silk
stockings. At that moment my resentment collapsed, I responded to the
association of rustling silk on silk that had been built upon Julia's
sexual games. The feeling was so pleasurable all the fight was taken out of
me, I could even feel a faint stirring in my groin as the soft silk
garments began caressing my masculinity.
There were also changes to come at work. I had been sick for three
days, and Aurora Investments were now undertaking an important new
project. One that I had prepared. A colleague had been assigned to my
normal research and I was to work closely with Ms Roth on the "Paris
Project" as it was called. Now I was out of the small back office and was
relocated into her office As well as the Paris project I was to be her
assistant. Her private secretary had left so I found myself doing much of
her confidential work. She raised her eyebrows at my appearance, when I
walked in, then said I looked very nice. My colleagues, a very macho lot
was surprisingly subdued, there was a wolf whistle or two, but they were
quickly silenced. I realized I had been rather paranoid, Julia was quite
correct, nobody recognized my new outfit as female clothing. It was weeks
before I found out the truth. Ms Roth had spoken to the staff while I was
out collecting the post. It had been made very clear, that any harassment
in any form what so ever would lead to instant dismissal of the person
concerned.
I left at the end of the day, with a very happy Ms Roth. She was
pleased with the cooperation I had shown, and had confidence that we would
be able to work together in the future. She would hire a junior secretary
for the general work, but I would be responsible for completing the
confidential typing and the new investment portfolio. The extra
responsibility meant a hefty increase in salary.
I went straight home after work, dressed as I was I couldn't afford
my accidents or drinks in the bar. It was a surprise find Julia already
preparing dinner.
"You have time to shower before dinner honey. When you are finished
I'll apply the rash cream." She called.
The cream was massaged into my body, and continued further onto my
organ. I had become highly aroused by the bloomers and silk stockings
during the day and soon it was semi-rigid, we moved to the bed and she
opened the crotch of her sleek satin jumpsuit. Julia manipulated my partly
erect organ between her legs, the feel of the slithery material against my
body was most sexy feeling I had ever experienced, and my organ entered her
moist cleft. Our lovemaking continued until I was sexually dry and could
ejaculate no more, but still she kept my softening organ in her until her
caresses began to hurt the delicate flesh.
I began to dress voluntarily put on my own silk stockings and
garterbelt. A fresh pair of bloomers were on the bed, tighter fitting than
the ones I had worn this morning. Julia handed me a pair of satin pants,
the thought of refusal entered my mind but sexually sated I no longer had
the will to fight, and began to put them on.
"Honey, you're putting them on backwards."
"I've got the zipper in the front."
"I know," she laughed, 'but those some more from the 'La Femme'
sale, the zipper goes in the back. I couldn't find a pair in a male shop
that could fit your new figure. They were all cut for slim guys, and your
hips and fanny are anything but thin."
She then turned them around and helped me in-to them, closing the
zipper and the hook. They were quite snug and form revealing, I felt odd,
standing there aware of the satin fabric's tightness, especially around my
hips, behind, and between my legs. Because of the absence of a fly, my male
equipment was clearly visible beneath the shimmery material, I would not be
able wear this around anyone but my wife.
"Wow, it feels funny closing your back zipper after having such
troubles getting you to do mine. But I guess you won't object to that
anymore."
Next she pulled out a matching blouse and started to pull it over
my head.
"I'll wear a shirt." I cried.
"The blouse came with the pants, its part of an outfit; we can't
let it go to waste."
With that she finished pulling it over my head and then zipped me
up for the second time that night. The feel of satin over satin and the
silk stockings against my softened skin, was very sensual, my hairless
chest tingled beneath the sleek satin blouse. In addition, my organ was
reacting to the tightly zippered satin pants, to avoid embarrassing myself,
I tried calming thoughts, but walking downstairs the layers of soft
materials almost made me lose control.
As my wife served dinner, she placed the loop of a lace apron over
my head.
"Stand up honey, so I can tie the straps."
"Why the apron?"
"When one eats lobster one wears a bib, and when you wear a satin
outfit for the first time you must wear an apron. Now you stand up before I
get angry."
In my new attire, we had dinner and discussed my new position at
work. Julia's attitude had changed no more cutting remarks; she was the
tender Julia of months ago. She showed no surprise at my new job, it was as
if she had already been told of it. That was absurd, Ms Roth had discussed
it with no one else
The next surprise came after dinner, when she decided that as long
as I had an apron on I might as well do the dishes.
"But I already do all the laundry on weekends.
"I know honey, but I cook on weekends, and during the week and
massage you, and I could become too tired for love-making....."
I thought of the pleasure of a few minutes ago and the possibility
of that being denied, I cried, "I'll do the dishes..." From then on I did
the dishes, and shortly after I started cleaning the kitchen also.
That moment was a seminal one, thinking back on her remarks several
hours later I realized for the first time how manipulative she could
be. Weeks later I figured out how I had arrived in my predicament, but by
that time it was too late to change. From the very start, I had had no real
chance to avoid the role that she and Doctor Sylvia Bryce had planned for
me.
That night at bedtime I was given a pair of pink satin pajamas; I
didn't even begin to protest knowing it was pointless. My body was become
very feminized. Besides my rather large hips and bottom, my chest was also
changing. The nipples had become enlarged and little breasts were
developing. At the moment they weren't large enough to attract attention
when wearing a shirt, but they were large enough to prevent me from
appearing bare chested.
My wife had talked with Doctor Bryce. Sylvia had explained the
nipples were a minor side effect of the cream and tablets. These would go
away shortly after I stopped using the medicine, probably in about two
months. Julia said she could see they were very sensitive and would have a
silk brassiere made to my specifications to stop them rubbing against my
shirt. I mounted a halfhearted objection but it was quickly squashed. This
would be modeled as a teen training bra; the thought of a tight silken
garment caressing my newly sensitive nipples sent a shiver of excitement
through me. My wife noted the excitement in my voice and smiled saying
"Don't worry, I will take care of it, I just want you to be happy."
I no longer objected to the feminine underwear and had donned her
pajamas. Since wearing her satin pants I had become obsessed with touch of
the slithery material against my skin, it no longer mattered that it was
abnormal. Sensuality ruled. My wife had clothed the bed in nylon satin
sheets and was wearing a silk nightgown: the combination of my wife
nestling against me, together with the satin bed sheets kept me in a state
of arousal all night. Several times she caressed my erect manhood through
the satin, almost bringing me to wet my nightclothes.
As my chest continued to assume feminine proportions it also became
more sensitive. Any manipulations of this area gave me pleasure and Julia
added them to her love making efforts. Where once I caressed her breasts
and sucked her hard nipples, she now used these techniques to me. At first
it was her hands through the satin of the pajamas, then one night she
started to use her tongue on my swollen nipples while her hand massaged my
groin.
I was aroused like never before, my maleness erect and throbbing in
my satiny ladies pajamas with my nipples erect and tingling. Aroused as
perhaps only a woman could be, I began to cry and whimper softly as my wife
brought me to the very edge of a climax. Leaving me poised ready to explode
as she began to softly caress the area around my aching nipples, and
lightly stroke my throbbing maleness through the straining satin.
"Please, dear, take me, make - Come, ... ohhh, I want to come,
please. Then she brought me to full orgasm as I broke down and began to
cry, my gasping mouth pressed against her perfumed hair. My feelings were
completely submissive; I accepted her control and would never be an
aggressor again, in bed or anywhere else
After I cleaned up my wife approached me with one of her nighties.
"Darling I have no more pajamas and this pair is ruined, look at
the rip you made in the crotch, you bad, bad boy! Anyway I think you should
wear something that leaves your breasts more open to my attention, you did
like that didn't you honey? So it will be nighties for you, unless you want
to sleep in the buff."
At that point I was so well trained I couldn't imagine not sleeping
in satin or silk. I'd never be able to fall asleep without them. Therefore,
I allowed my wife to slip the satin nightgown over my head. It was a short
gown that came to just below my hips, allowing her roving hands easy access
to my privates. Spaghetti straps supported it's silken gathered bodice
which was cut low exposing the rounded top of my breasts and allowing more
than visual access. We made love again and I now knew I'd never wear
anything but gowns to bed. As she quietly drew the flounced panties up
around my waist I began dreaming of new see through baby dolls and a long
sleek satin dressing gowns.
After that I was at my wife' s command. So when I put a run in my
stockings and she said it was about time I had a pedicure I didn't object,
how could I, after all silk stockings are anything but cheap. She didn't
stop there, though. After doing my toes she gave me a manicure. She painted
my fingernails with a clear polish but did my toenails in a vibrant
red. She explained it would keep me from fooling around at the office. With
the underwear, or rather with the lingerie, I was now wearing that was
hardly possible, but I no longer argued with Julia. Next she turned her
attention to my hair. She hadn't permitted me to stop anywhere on the way
from work. That included the barber and my hair was fairly long.
"Doing your nails reminds me I am getting out of practice. With
that raise and Harriet, so happy with your work you can afford to have it
styled every week"
"Harriet?"
"Ms Roth, silly. She told me, how cooperative you are! She is going
to make your current job permanent with a large increase. Really you should
go a stylist, but today I'll do it."
How did Julia know what Ms Roth thought and why had she been told I
was getting a raise? Julia had been staying back later at the office over
the last few weeks, showing clients through the new project.
"Ms Roth never mentioned it to me Julia."
"Well its true honey believe me."
It was obvious that she was far closer to Harriet Roth than I'd
ever imagined. Ms Roth never let anyone call her by her first name, but
Julia used it with ease. It was said that Harriet Roth was fond of women,
could she and Julia, no I didn't even want to think of it.
She draped a satin cloth around my and began cutting my hair. When
the trimming was done and everything was even she started putting on the
rollers, I started to object but in a very sharp tone she told me not to
move. I attempted to protest when she began with the drier. It turned out
to be pointless, as it was made quite plain I'd be deprived of further
sexual activity if I persisted.
I came out from under the drier and the curlers were removed she
let me admire my first permanent. It was astonishing what the softly curled
hair did to my features. Even without makeup I was a very pretty girl, not
for the first time did conflicting emotions rush through my body. It was
exciting to see my feminine side, but to know that it was a facade, and
beneath the curls I was male. The excitement I felt made it even worse,
that my mind was accepting even welcoming the image in the mirror, when I
should have been feeling disgust and fighting to return to my normal world.
From then on she insisted my hair be done weekly. I refused to go
to work in this form, it was the worst argument we had ever had, but for
once I refused to give in. It was most traumatic and I wept and cried
throughout it, in the end Julia allowed me a concession. I cover my curls
at work under a male stretch wig. Once home, however, I bad to remove it
immediately and give my hair a quick brush-out, or face my wife's
displeasure.
At this point, with some padding in my silk bra I would have made a
convincing young woman. I looked quite a woman in my long hair, satin pants
and blouse, even more a woman in my seductive bedroom attire.
The treatment continued, at least another month was required said
Doctor Sylvia, by now my body had become quite feminine. In fact I was so
well curved I could hardly get into my male pants. Julia noticed my
difficulty in fastening the zip. "Well, I guess it's a stricter diet for
you now darling, we must reduce that bottom of yours."
"I really need larger pants."
"Look honey, the waist is fine. It's that behind of yours, but I
think I've got the answer, come upstairs with me."
I followed her up wondering what was my next torment would be?
Knowing I would accept it without a struggle. She opened a drawer, the one
filled with her bras and girdles.
"Here, honey, try this pretty pantie girdle, we girls wear them all
the time, they are great beneath those sexy designer jeans, which are
supposed to be nice and tight!"
This was really too much to take, my male self rebelled, but no
matter how I struggled, Julia would not accept a refusal. I clumsily pulled
on the tight, stretchy long leg panti-girdle. Despite the chagrin of having
my maleness further eroded, there was a feeling of pride when I saw what it
did for my figure. My pants fitted me just fine.
"At home you do not have to worry. Your feminine pants are cut to
fit, but at work you will have to wear the girdle, well I guess I better
buy you several of your own, I'm sure pink would be just fine wouldn't it
dear? In addition, you'll soon get used to the control. It really does
wonders for your figure, honey."
"How long is this going to keep up? Pretty soon I won't look like a
man any more."
"Don't worry honey, just do as you're told! Sylvia and I know what
is best. Wear that nice pretty girdle to work, it won't kill you, girls
wear them all day, you know."
"But, I'm not a..." I stopped in mid-sentence I had finally learned
not even to attempt an argument. I did wear the girdle it was the hardest
to bear; it wasn't just the tightness of it, but the symbol it
represented. Modern girls had discarded them as difficult to wear and a
badge of female servitude. Now I was forced as a male to wear one, it was
most degrading. Julia helped me don it the morning often offering some
quite embarrassing remarks during the process. When I got home the first
thing I did was pull the damn thing off. "Just like a woman." she would
always add.
A week later I complained about the girdle, but that protest died
when Julia suggested maybe I'd like to try a full lace up style. By now I
not convinced she was joking and prepared to let sleeping dogs lie. A week
later after returning from work I said again how uncomfortable it was and
my wife tried to convince me to try on one of her dresses.
"You would look quite cute in a dress. Then you wouldn't have to
wear so tight a girdle, and after all your legs are gorgeous." This finally
taught to keep my mouth shut. After that I learned to keep my complaints to
myself.
Julia was very involved in her work; it seemed she was on a
roll. Despite her inexperience she had succeeded where the so-called
experienced professionals had failed. Ms Roth considered her, the star
player in the company and I was seeing less and less of her. Late night
business dinners and two interstate seminars which she had attended with Ms
Roth. Julia returned from the overnight stay, quite exhausted but
elated. The work and the seminars appeared to affect her sexual energy, she
no longer needed the long and exhausting (for me) sexual sessions that had
proved such a problem for me. Instead she was quite content to go to bed
and to sleep
Work was becoming quite pleasant, and Ms Roth seemed to have grown
quite fond of me. She considered me very cooperative which I suppose was
shorthand for submissive. My career was going well I never wasted time
flirting with the other workers or gossiping on the phone. Ms Roth said I
was the most competent assistant she had ever employed, and she was very
pleased that I had taken over the confidential secretarial duties.
"You are far the best girl I've ever had." Suddenly she saw my
crimson
face and realized what she had said. "I mean the best assistant, Nellie. I
don't know what made me say that."
I did though, struggling to contain the tears threatening to course
down my cheeks. It was impossible to disguise the way my body had changed,
or the feminine clothes Julia had forced me to wear. Despite Ms Roth's
threats of dismissal to anyone who harassed or teased me, it had not
stopped two of the more macho salesman catching me in the toilet and
calling me all sorts of awful names.
Charlie Duggan was continually pinching my bottom, and yesterday
had tried to feel my tiny breasts when I burst into tears, he let me go but
threatened to hurt me if I told Ms Roth. Julia was late returning that
night and she was too tired to listen to my complaint. From then on I made
sure the men had left the building before I used the toilet
By now my hips and bottom had become even more rounded and my pants
were becoming tighter in the seat. They had reached the point where they
could no longer be buttoned without the aid of the long, high-waist girdle
used to control my new figure. Finally the inevitable happened, when I bent
over to file some papers the back seam of my trousers split wide
open. Sitting at her desk my boss had a clear view; I quickly turned red
with embarrassment, as she could see everything.
"My goodness! My word!" she exclaimed with a sharp laugh as she
walked over. "I had no idea you were so fond of nylon or is it satin? I
mean pink is a nice cute color and all that; but most men short of shy away
from it, at least in underwear."
Then she got a better look as she got closer, I was frozen in shock
trying to think of something to do, anything, my hands went behind me to
try to hide my embarrassment.
"Well, well pink satin bloomers. Nellie dear, they are rather cute
but I had no idea. Julia mentioned you were having trouble sexually and
your pants did slide a bit much. I never realized that you'd gone this
far."
I was scarlet and could hardly breathe much less talk. Julia had
been talking to her about our most intimate details. Oh how could she
discuss this with Ms Roth of all people? I just wanted to curl up into a
little ball and cry.
"I, I'm, so embarrassed, Ms Roth, "I sobbed, " I have this skin
condition and Julia and our doctor said I had to wear...."
"Oh Nellie stop it, there is no need to cry. What your doctor said
doesn't matter, don't make excuses. What underwear, or in your case
'lingerie', you wear is your business. Just as long as your dress
preferences don't interfere with your work. I like wool pants suits,
tailored a bit on the masculine side. You like satin, even though they are
a bit kinky, who care as long as you are a good employee. Now the problem
is to fix your pants.
"But.. can't I go home to fix them?"
"And now are you going to even get out of this office showing off
your pink undies like you're doing right now? Come on, give me those pants
and I'll get them fixed." I was hesitant. "Don't be shy, in this business
I've seen plenty of people in their underwear, men and women. Besides at
this point what secrets could you have from me anyway?"
With that she helped remove my pants and left the room. What could
I do, standing in the executive's office without any trousers, my
stockinged legs and bloomered bottom visible for anyone to see? When she
returned I was standing in the corner, hoping that a potted palm would
cover my embarrassment. She started to say some-thing about the pants then
my legs caught her eye.
"Oh, now darling! They're not socks, they're stockings.. .and, why
they're silk stockings, very nice, very classy. I wonder now you keep them
up? Not with a..., let's just see!" With three steps she walked over and
before I knew her intentions she pulled down my bloomers to reveal the
girdle with it' suspenders. I was ready to die on the spot as I stood my
maleness revealed. What could I do? With a smile as broad as I had ever
seen she said, " what beautiful taste you have in lingerie?"
My hands feebly tried to hide my embarrassment as I tightly clasped
my thighs together, as if that would help at all.
"And shaved legs... let me feel them, ahhh, they're not bad, not
bad at all. Why from the waist down you've got a lovely figure, but your
panties are a little old fashioned. Turn around, mm very nice, a quite
attractive ..... No wonder these pants don't fit, you've got a twenty-five
waist and thirty-five inch hips! You should be wearing Misses pants, in
fact, with those legs you should be wearing Misses Skirts!"
"Oh, please, Ms Roth stop it! Stop it!"
"Don't take that tone of voice with me! I'll have you out the door
this minute, then see you get tough with, standing there like a naked girl
in your cute panties. Just a minute, remove your tie. Well well, it's a
blouse, and a very pretty one."
"Wait on, open the blouse."
I hesitated I couldn't my worst secret would be revealed.
"Come on, well my goodness. Right under my eyes you've been wearing
a bra and a silk one to boot. What other secrets do you have? I thought I
knew my staff well but I didn't have the faintest idea it went this
deep. Julia didn't drop a hint of your strange tastes.
"I'm begging you, please don't tell anyone."
"Why, honey, this is too interesting to share with the world. Just
be a good little boy and do what you're told and you may not be too
embarrassed by the time I let you go home." With that she went to her
closet and took out a skirt. "We're close enough in size, so put this
on. Don't tell me no, put it on or else... the zipper goes on the
left. Yes, very interesting, a little bizarre, but very interesting...
I had no choice. I stepped into it, pulled it up and zippered it
closed. I was mortified, what had happened to me? My underwear was being
called lingerie, feminine, silky, pink lingerie. In addition, I wore
women's satin pants at home, and now a skirt, I had no fight left in me.
"Walk away, I want to see how it hangs. Now swing your hips a
little." I did as she instructed. "Perfect, perfect, it's yours, a little
present from me to you. The shoes and shirt are perfect, patent leather
penny loafers and the blouse is fine. Now all you need is a little padding
for cleavage, some make-up, and a wig! Sounds like fun?"
. She then filled the cups with crumpled tissue to complete
fullness.
"Just like the girls used to do in high school." Then she had me
replace my shirt.
"Hmm, not bad, actually you should have your own padded bra, but
this will do for today. Now sit down so I can do your face. It's as smooth
as a baby's behind so I don't think we'll have any problem."
She began to pluck my eyebrows. "Ouch" I complained. She replied,
"You know we've all got to suffer for beauty, so hush up, I'll be done in a
flash."
She thinned the brows so they arched femininely above my eyes, and
removed the hair on the bridge of my nose. Next she colored then with
eyebrow pencil and mascaraed my eyelashes, arching them up with the brush.
"Your eye lashes are so long and lovely it's hard to believe your
hair doesn't follow suit. If I were of a suspicious nature I'd think you'd
have to be wearing a wig. Not that I think a fellow wears nylons and
panties would wear a wig, but..." With that she grabbed my hair and yanked,
letting my permed cascade of luscious hair fall to my shoulders.
"My, my, ... and I always thought you were going bald. Well, well,
well, you do have lovely hair. Now shake it out dearie so I can comb it."
I moved my head as she instructed. She then combed and fluffed it
out till she was satisfied with the way it set.
"Why you would want to hide all this lovely hair I'll never
understand, most women would die to have hair this healthy and shiny. I
wish mine was as pretty."
She then returned to my face. A make-up base was applied, then some
face powder and rouge. The lipstick came last. This she made me apply
myself while she explained how it was done. It seemed to give her a strange
thrill to have such power over a man and make him apply lipstick. It was a
cherry red and gave ~ lips a wet look. After I applied it she bad me blot
and dry my lips on a tissue. She then stared at - for several minutes while
trying to catch her breath. Finally she was able to speak.
"Why, I can't believe it, you are just lovely! If I were a man, I'd
love to grab that body and ravage and rape ... I'd love to see .... huh,
excuse me, I'm getting a little carried away. But the job must be finished
first; we can't leave your nails bare. I can tell you are taking good care
of them, and your hands are feminine enough. However, for a finishing touch
they do need polish. A nice bright red would do fine."
She explained bow to apply it and made me do it myself, all the
while looking at me with the strangest expression. Luckily I had had
practice under my wife's careful tutelage and did not paint my skin red as
I had when I was first learning to give manicures.
"Now it is my turn, I want you to do my toe nails. She unrolled her
panti-hose and I slid to my knees. She watched, with a slightly glazed look
over her eyes, while I applied the polish. She gave herself away by the
movements of her hands in her lap, the rotation of her elbows and the slow
suggestive rocking of her hips. She was obviously erotically stimulated by
my servitude; a femininely dressed male on his knees attending to her
manicure was her fantasy of a male dominated. I knew why she never married
and had always dated such effeminate men. I wondered what other personal
"tasks" she would have me, no force me, to perform in the future.
After I had blown the nails dry she made me walk around the office
instructing me how to move in a feminine manner.
"Now, now little lady, be sure to swing your hips as you walk,
nothing is quite as sexy as the view from here, let's see you turn on your
heels, that's it, now faster. Oh my, one can see a sexy flash of your lacy
panti-slip." Later I practiced sitting on a high backless stool, care-fully
arranging the folds of my skirt so only my knees and an enticing expanse of
stockinged thigh was visible. I began to learn how to sit like a lady. When
she was satisfied she said I was to finish the day's work dressed as I was,
and under her personal supervision.
She sat there for the rest of the day watching me work. Any
movement that was not to her satisfaction she would make me do again and
again. She spoke in a husky bedroom voice and her hand never stopped
moving. At times I would glance to see her hand slowly moving beneath her
skirt... I had become her sex toy. Finally at five o'clock she called me
over to her desk and had me bend over her. Her freshly manicured hands
fluttered before my face.
"Yes, dear, you did a professional job on these hands don't you
think. And I shall have to reward you for your efforts."
As she spoke her right hand descended to my bosom and deftly
unbuttoned the satin blouse to my waist. I began to blush quite
uncontrollably at being so exposed. Her left hand quickly swept up
underneath my skirt and began to caress my silken fanny. Being so close to
her, enveloped in her perfume, I felt my manhood become erect within its
satin confines. Yet before I could react she slipped a hundred-dollar bill
in my bra and told me to go home.
"Like this?" I stuttered.
She seemed to find it difficult to speak but replied, "You'll
pass. It would be too much work to change you back. If I did a quick job
you would look like a girl trying to pass as a boy! Your wife seems to like
you in stockings, panties, and curled hair anyway. It is a pity she was
working from home today; otherwise she could have helped me.
Before I could break away I felt her hand, still beneath my skirt,
grasp and caress my swollen organ. I finally broke away and left, closing
the door behind me. I was about to go back and try again to have her
transform me back into a male when her orgasmic groans stopped me. I could
hear her climax through the door
I could not go back there now. Luckily the outer office was
deserted as it was by now after six and I hoped I wasn't so obvious, but
the nervousness must have shown as I walked to the company parking lot. I
fumbled with my keys, and finally managed to get in, start up my car, and
slowly drive home. The last thing I could avoid was being stopped by the
police for speeding.
I pulled the car into the driveway and checking to make sure that
no one was watching, dashed up the sidewalk and stairs into the house. I
was late and found my wife waiting at the head of the stairs waiting for
me, a bemused look on her face.
"I ask you to wear a dress and no, you refuse. Now look at you,
just the perfect little secretary. For your sexy lesbian boss you do it,
why I should make you... "I told you, I had no choice. I was forced by
circumstances you created to do it, and you know how forceful she can be,
she threatened me, what could I do?"
This went on for sometime when all of a sudden my wife began to
smile. "0h, well you look so cute in that skirt, I just cannot stay mad at
you. Come over here and sit besides me, my little kitten."
I sat down next to try wife; it was like a young girl's first date
in her parent's parlor. Her hands were quickly on my knees, then slipped
beneath try skirt and began to caress try silken thighs, once again I began
to get quite excited, even my breathing began to quicken. Then her hands
closed in on my hardening manhood and quickly began to caress its hardness
beneath the satin bloomers. Before I knew it she had drawn the lingerie
dawn around my knees, imprisoning my thighs in a silken grip. She was on
top of me quickly and forced ~ to surrender to her overpowering passions I
had no choice in the matter at all, my only path was submission. Later we
recovered to find ourselves sprawled on the sofa; my clothes were half off,
my panties and stockings bunched around my knees...
"Let's go up and clean up." she said. We took our first bath
together. She bathed and shaved me.
"Since you wore a bra at your boss's request I don't think I have
to save this anymore."
She pulled out a pair of black silk panties, sided with ribbons and
surrounded with lace, such wonderfully luxurious feminine panties. This
time I really balked, or at least I tried to. Silk I did love and had
become addicted to, but it was because of the rash on my legs I was wearing
the bloomers. These were feminine confections, which would offer no
protection at all.
"I'm sure these will be fine, the ointment will protect you my
love, besides these are so sexy, look at the lace and ribbons."
Still I hesitated; they were so feminine through the haze of my
addiction I was beginning to realize how far my wife had gone with
me. Before I could answer she patted my behind and then planted a wet kiss
on my lips. "I think your pink undies have got to go, after all you look so
much sexier in black." Without waiting for a reply she fastened a new
garter belt around my hips. It was black satin, to match my new
panties. Then she had me put on my silk stockings. I went to get my satin
pants but she stopped me once more.
"Honey, it's shame to hide those beautiful legs of your in pants,
put this on, not those pants."
"A slip? "
It was not only a satin petticoat but also a skirt in the same
material. My wife then put her arms around me and we danced. She led of
course, often holding me to tight that our bosoms caressed each other
through our dresses and bras, only increasing our mutual excitement. She
kissed me full on the lips and did not ask but stated, "You love it."
I replied in a resigned and submissive tone, "Yes dear I love it."
From that time on my clothes changed. Ms Roth rang quite early in
the morning. After the call, Julia went to the wardrobe and removed all my
male clothing; even the feminine sharkskin trousers I had been wearing my
wife took control before I could answer. She fastened me into a black satin
and whales bone corset that comes with the outfit. It didn't pinch my waist
which was already very feminine proportioned but was so designed and padded
that it pushed up my small breasts and gave me a fine natural looking
cleavage. The sleek satin corset felt both exciting and restrictive to wear
besides giving me perfect posture, thrusting my bosom forward. The
stockings, panties, and slip she had me put on by myself, commenting on my
various embarrassed expressions.
My entrance into Aurora Investments, the following morning dressed
completely as a woman evoked little comment. Charlie Duggan just raised his
eyes and nudged the two salesmen who were with him. It was a told you so
approach. Ms Roth didn't say anything to them in front of me, but later the
two salesmen emerged white faced after a talk with her. Charlie was given
the sack on the spot, so no one in the company harasses me now.
In fact it was Julia who became Sales Manager taking over Charlie
Duggan's job. She spends more time at work and entertaining customers, and
I suppose it was natural I became more responsible for running the
home. More and more of her work resulted in her staying out all night. At
first I didn't understand the implications involved and thought her
dedication to work was wonderful.
One night she arrived home at two in the morning. While she was
undressing one look at her stained underwear was enough to make me
understand that customer relations meant more than having dinner with
them. It was the last time I became really annoyed, if I'd been man enough
I would most likely hit her, but that time was long past. We sat and talked
out our new relationship and a great deal emerged.
Over the past months even before she took over as Sales Manager,
Julia had been seeing a number of Aurora's important clients and if it had
been necessary to clinch a sale, she had had no hesitation in having sex
with them. Her sales success had dramatically increased and Harriet Roth
had been very impressed. This was why she had no hesitation in removing
Charlie Duggan.
The discussion lead to another confession by Julia. She and Harriet
were also very close, over the last three-month they had become casual
lovers. All of their encounters had taken place at the out of state
seminars, while both enjoyed the sexual play; it would not go beyond that.
To say the least I was staggered by her revelations, but strangely
enough I felt no anger. Really there was little enough male within me now
to act out the wronged husband. When Julia said that she still loved me and
wanted to continue our marriage, I agreed. Really it was with a sense of
relief that I wanted to continue to live with her, I loved her and I didn't
think there was any way I could return to normal. What was left for me,
Harriet Roth was unlikely to let me to return to being Cornel and outside
Aurora Investments there was the problem of establishing a new career as
well paying as the one I had. Besides in a perverse way I had begun to like
being Nellie.
There was only one thing that almost destroyed us, and it occurred
about a week after Julia's revelations. We had Sylvia over for dinner; yes
even she had become easier to accept these days. It was during the meal
that Julia said to Sylvia she had told me everything. There was a look of
surprise on Sylvia's face, "everything? I'm so glad you weren't mad about
the rash Nellie. I'm sorry we went to such lengths but really I didn't like
you then."
"What do mean Sylvia. What about the rash?"
It was clear that Sylvia had made a dreadful mistake, Julia had
been talking about her extramural activities at Aurora Investments, but
obviously there was more to it than that. So it turned out, and that was
when I learned about the harmless itching powder that was used to start the
rash. Julia had merely dusted it into my underwear and then Sylvia had
provided the hormones and salve that had gradually stripped away my
masculinity. It was a joke that had gone too far.
I broke down at that stage and began to cry. A very embarrassed
Sylvia made her excuses and departed apologizing to both Julia and I. Even
now I'm not sure whether the apology was for the act, or because she told
me about it.
I didn't speak to Julia for two days I was so upset, then I began
to stop feeling sorry for myself and realized just what a terrible man I'd
been. We made up after that and we've really been happy. I've enjoyed a
number of nights out with the girls, Julia, Sylvia, and Harriet, really
they turned out to be fun. Harriet once away from work is great fun, a real
surprise to me.
All that has lead to this evening, it is early Saturday evening,
and I'm walking into the leading Portland hotel to meet Monsieur Paul
Cartier. He is the important client; it was for his company that I
completed all the research for the "Paris Project." Monsieur Cartier
arrived two days ago to discuss the multi million dollar project. He is
happily married with a wife and two children in France, but he also has an
eye for pretty young men who dress as girls. Somehow he found out my true
sex and suggested to Harriet, that I entertain him on his last night in
Portland.
It was Julia who first suggested it; it came as a complete shock
that she could even think I'd do it. When Harriet talked further about it
and discussed the bonus I'd receive if Cartier invested the money into the
project, the objection I'd felt began to disappear. Besides he was so good
looking.
As he opened the door he looked even dreamier, tall with broad
shoulders and an upright carriage. He was wearing a well-tailored tuxedo,
and a silk evening shirt with a plain hand tied bow tie. "Mademoiselle
Nellie, you look charming." He took my left hand and running his fingers
along the satin glove drew it to his lips and kissed the tips of my
fingers. It is impossible not to feel the sexual implications of such an
act. Monsieur Cartier had a European charm not normally encountered in
Portland.
"Please Mlle Nellie let me take your case, and my name is Paul." I
handed him the slim case that held my nightwear, underwear makeup, and some
casual clothing for the morning. I stood looking out the window of the
twentieth floor as twilight settled over the city. Paul returned moments
later, "a glass of champagne for a beautiful lady."
I began to say no, I was too nervous. He took my hand, "nervous
Mlle Nellie, how can anyone so beautiful be nervous. Come this will settle
your nerves."
It tasted delicious, and soon I was feeling more confident. Paul
insisted my gown was the most elegant he'd seen. It had been Julia's
choice, I'd never dreamed of wearing something so daring, it was very
simple, an ankle length cream wrap round satin skirt, very slim. I had to
be careful to avoid long strides otherwise my stockinged legs would be
exposed as far as my thighs by the wrap round. Over it I wore a matching
jacket and beneath this a camisole in ice blue colored satin. Julia
insisted that a bra would spoil the line, so beneath the slinky material
there was nothing to protect my breasts. I noticed several heads turn and
look at us as we entered. I could tell what the women were thinking. You
could almost see the jealousy in their eyes as I held onto Michael's strong
arm. However, the reaction that surprised me was the one from the
men. Being a man, I could almost read their minds as their eyes riveted on
me and undressed me The dinner seemed to go quickly as I sat there and
listened to Paul talk.
Paul asked if I would care to dance. I used to love dancing, but I
wasn't sure I would be able to adjust to following instead of leading, he
said not to worry, he would take it slow. As he led me by my hand to the
dance floor, I could feel my heart starting to race. He gently put one arm
around me with his hand on the small of my back. I put my hand on his
shoulder it seemed so natural, even the high heels didn't seem to bother
me. As the tempo of the music slowed, I found myself pulling closer to Paul
and I laid my head against his shoulder.
As our bodies started to melt together, I could feel his swollen
manhood pressing against me, to my further surprise; I could feel my own
penis strain against the silky fabric that confined it. Up to now I had
tried to ignore what was likely to take place during the rest of the
evening? I was not that naive to believe the rest of the evening would
merely involve a nights sleep. It was just that I preferred not to think of
it. I am sure that I never had any homosexual feelings or tendencies as I
was growing up, and the thought of kissing another man would never had
entered my mind.
However what I was feeling with Paul was more intense than anything
that I had felt with any women (including my wife). We simply stood there
looking into each other's eyes, possibly looking for some answers. Paul
finally broke the silence and asked if wanted to go back to the hotel. I
took his arm aware that our episode on the dance floor had not gone
unnoticed and many envious eyes from both men and women followed our
departure.
In the limousine I laid my hand on Michael's leg. As we talked, I
started rubbing my hand up and down his thigh, going a little higher with
each stroke quickly finding his hardness then gave him a quick soft
kiss. Paul gently opened my jacket and found my small breasts. With his
lips on mine, his fingers caressed my nipples through the soft material,
before we reached the hotel they were rock hard.
No sooner were we in the door than Paul had me in his arms again
and was passionately kissing me. His cool french approach, apparently been
lost on the dance floor. My jacket was slid from my shoulders to the floor,
quickly followed by my skirt. I stood there as he slipped the camisole over
my head leaving me only in my satin and lace garter belt, silk butterfly
panties and silk stockings.
Paul stepped back, "Oh so lovely, you are gorgeous Nellie, your
little extra, it is beautiful. He was looking down, and following his eyes
realized he was referring to my organ, swollen, and erect emerging from the
center of my satin butterfly panties.
"I blushed, how could this happen after all the hormones I had
taken. My erections up to now had only resulted from Julia's hands and the
humiliation sessions she continued to use. Now in front of this beautiful
man my true emotions were exposed, my excitement overwhelmed the hormones
that had up till now controlled my sexual feelings. I started to remove my
stockings.
"No Nellie, please leave them on, it will add to the excitement."
He pulled the tie from about his neck.
"No let me." I moved to him and began to unbutton his silk
shirt. Then kneeling I slid first his shoes off and then a pair of silk
socks. I raised my head; I saw the swelling behind, the silk and mohair of
his trousers. My hands boldly reached towards his fly, they were stopped
part way there.
"No you little vixen, not yet."
His hands raised me from my me knees. I slid the shirt from his
shoulders and unfastened his zip, in one motion I pushed his trousers and
silk boxers to his ankles. I was standing next to an incredibly handsome
man whose own organ was much longer than my own. Paul drew me to the
leather settee, seating himself he drew me onto his lap. I was facing him,
my legs either side of his, his hard-ridged flesh pressing against my own.
We kissed his mouth opening wide and Paul's tongue reaching deep
inside mine our tongues playing their sexual games. Paul's hands were
caressing my breasts teasing the nipples until the were standing out from
my breasts like miniature figureheads. I had never felt such pleasure; all
this was beyond my imagination, playing like this with a male.
His mouth moved to my breasts and the sensuous gliding of his
tongue across the nipple brought a sob of pleasure from my lips. Paul drew
a small packet from the pocket of his jacket. Expertly he released a
condom, I knew what must be done, taking it from his hands I slid the
sheath over the quivering appendage. This was the first time I had been in
intimate contact with another man' penis. As hard as Paul was, the outer
skin was silky to touch and his penis felt warm.
He squeezed some gel from the tube and started to lubricate my
puckered, virgin rosette then ran a finger up inside of me. I couldn't
avoid out a small squeal of delight and reached for the lubricant, to coat
his member so that it was slick and ready. Paul could sense my nervousness,
I was trembling.
"Please Nellie relax, "touching his tongue against my
lips. Whispering, "my darling I'll be gentle."
Paul drew me closer to him; I could feel the rigid shaft slide
beneath my legs until it was touching my rosette. It nestled against my
bottom; I waited as Paul continued to kiss my breasts. Then lowered myself
on to the monster feeling the pressure as it waited to enter me. It was so
exciting, acting out this womanly, submissive role that I wriggled about,
pushing my dainty hole onto him, just begging to be entered
He was warm against the ridges of my rosette, but gradually my
weight forced the ring apart and the shaft began to enter my hole. I gasped
as it stretched me, but gradually my sphincter muscles relaxed, adjusting
to his probing penis. Inch by inch, he began moving slowly in and out of
the entrance. When Paul was convinced I was completely relaxed, he slowly
and carefully pushed his way in. "Oh, Paul, I feel you, the head is going
in so far." I continued to lower myself as he worked himself deeper and
deeper into me, at last I knew he had penetrated me to the hilt, as I felt
the soft hair around his member against my bottom. It was so delicious to
feel him deep inside me. I couldn't believe I was doing such a thing. I was
being loved by a man and enjoying it! "Your bottom is so soft and you're
so tight Nellie." Then holding my hips, he worked his organ smoothly in and
out, telling me to push my bottom down to meet each thrust. I closed my
eyes in a state of dreamy passion, and my perfumed hair brushed against my
cheek as my whole body rocked to meet his every stroke. I had my legs wide
open. I gasped backing my exposed bottom to meet his thrusts. My own organ
was rigid as steel, as Paul took hold of it in his hand and masturbated me,
calling it my beautiful clitty. I was almost beyond control: the
stimulation of my prostate and my penis was so exquisite. Paul was nearing
his moment of ecstasy; I heard his deep drawn sighs and noticed his body
making little trembling motions. Overcome with pleasure he was nearing his
orgasm, Paul pushed, and I pushed and squeezed to hold his prick in my
bottom. Then I could feel a throbbing, as he began to spasm. The juices
were flooding me, filling the condom with ejaculate. My own penis, totally
aroused by the touch of Paul's smooth hands began to spurt and fill his
hands with my hot seed.
It was another twenty minutes before either of us wanted to
move. In the end it was the cramp in my leg that made us head for the
bed. I had a quick wash before donning a short ivory colored satin
nightgown. It was so comforting to snuggle against his muscular body for
the night. Not that there was a lot of sleep involved. We made love twice
during the night, the first was what Paul called "doggie" style. With me
kneeling on the bed, two large pillows beneath my stomach and Paul taking
me from behind, it produced all sorts of new sensations, but it was
certainly not as intimate as our first.
The second time we were face to face, with my legs up over his
shoulders, my goodness its' lucky the hotel rooms are soundproof, otherwise
I'm certain security would have broken in. The orgasm was so intense and
prolonged I just could not screaming with pleasure. I felt so embarrassed
afterwards, but Paul was so pleased with himself, feeling he was really a
demon lover. We did manage a last "quickie" in the shower; he again took me
from behind. By this time I was really sore, but once he was inside me any
pain vanished with the wonderful sensations his member produced.
Paul was flying out at eleven that morning, just enough time for a
marvelous champagne breakfast. He insisted that I dress in front of him, by
that time all the reservation I had of dressing in front of another man had
vanished. I thought about this for a moment and realized that I was no
longer thinking as a man, even that revelation vanished a few moments later
as my member reacted to Paul's kissing me on the neck. After that I gave
up, and just accepted myself as I was.
Julia had packed a pink satin garter belt, grey silk stockings,
satin tap panties, and pale grey silk camisole. Paul watched me, groaning
went the panties finally covered my member. My outerwear was a simple
mushroom colored silky crepe trouser suit, which I wore with medium
heels. We held hands all through the trip to the airport and I was very
sorry when at last he had to board the aircraft. There were tears in his
eyes he released me. "I love you Nellie, last night was the most wonderful
night of my life." I murmured affectionately in his ear. I've no doubt it
was, but the love part I decided to accept with a grain of salt, his wife
and children would most likely takeover that position about half way across
the Atlantic. Paul had been terrific and I really looked forward to his
return next month, by then I would be more in control of Nellie.
Paul would never know how much his consideration and kindness had
helped me discover my new self. A less gentle lover may have destroyed
Nellie in her chrysalis, never allowing the butterfly to gain
flight. Waking enfolded in Paul's arms was like emerging from a fog into
full sunlight, suddenly I knew who I was. Well that's not quite right,
suddenly I knew who I wasn't. Cornel has gone and I knew I was Nellie, who
she is, being still somewhat of a mystery. She's no longer Cornel, clinging
to a shrunken sexuality and non-existent male esteem. I've no doubt he will
try and creep back into existence, but for the moment he has been given the
boot, and his resurrection would require another miracle.
I gave a final wave as Paul vanished through the departure doors, I
will miss him tonight, but at least it will give me a chance to recover. My
bottom really got a workout; it was difficult to walk through the terminal
without wincing at every step. Paul said he loved the way my cheeks moved
beneath the crepe, if only he knew how much exquisite pain they caused. I
know he won't be the only lover I'll have, there was another client talking
to Harriet yesterday morning, an Australian. He was tall, slim, bronzed,
and very good looking; Harriet assured him I would be doing all the
research for him. Yesterday I was very apprehensive about what that would
involve, but now I'm looking forward to it, he was rather cute.
Julia was preparing dinner when I arrived home. Sylvia and Harriet
are joining us tonight; they will want a full run down on last night's
activities. She kissed me, hugging me tightly as though I'd been away for
some time. "Oh it's good to have you back." She looked at me closely, a
puzzled look in her eyes. "Nellie there is something different, you've
changed."
At that moment I knew I couldn't explain my new feelings, that
would come later. All I could say was, "yes honey, I have."

The End