21 July 2009

Bird Cage

My wife, Jessica and I have been married for just over four years. I'm 38,
she's 28. When we first met the attraction was as swift as it was intense. It
was as if we knew right away that we completed something deep in each
other. For us it has been an extremely intense, perverse, and sexually
gratifying life together, well, at least for Jessica. Although we began to
explore our sexual fantasies before we were married, Jessica made it quite
clear that once we were married there would be no more fantasy, it would all
become utterly real. And that the teasing games she liked to play on me
would no longer be a game, it would be for real, for as long as we were
married. She warned me that our sexual lifestyle would "Go beyond your
wildest dreams and nightmares." I couldn't wait to marry her. My
attraction to Jessica has always been fierce. She has this undercurrent of
bitchy, girlish, petulant seductiveness that has always captivated me.
Jessica looks a lot like the actress Salma Hayek. She has straight brown
hair cut stylishly that falls just below her shoulders. Her face has small
features, nice cheekbones and a nose that looks as if carved by a sculptor.
Her lips are pouty and they are very expressive. She is 5'4", slim,
curvaceous, with full breasts and an exceptionally beautiful ass. Even her
feet are attractive, a petite size 7, her toenails always meticulously
painted. On the first night of our honeymoon, lying regally down on the
bed next to me Jessica laid down the rules. "Don't worry, in fairness to you,
the rules of our marriage will be quite simple to follow. I'll only require five
simple things of you. And the first one is very simple to understand. Number
one, you are not allowed to cum, period. This one is a little more
complicated. Number two, you will only be allowed to have intercourse with
me once a year, and then only for fifteen minutes. Number three, I will have
the right to as many lovers as I wish, to sleep with them as often as I wish,
while you will have no other sexual partner but me, albeit in your limited
capacity as my lover. Number four, to make sure you don't cum when I'm
not around you are to wear this chastity device, a kind of cage for your cock
called a bird cage that will prevent intercourse, masturbation and even
erections. And finally number five, I reserve the right to change the rules or
to add new ones without your consent." Jessica then handed me the
bird cage and showed me how it worked and then placed it on me. As she
locked it on my cock Jessica kissed me passionately on the mouth and
said "This marriage is going to be so much fun, at least for me!" Well,
rule number two hasn't worked out as planned. I have yet to once be
permitted sexual intercourse with Jessica. Although according to the rules, I
should by now have four experiences of being inside her that's not how its
worked out. For some reason, every time that it's the night that I'm allowed
to fuck her something always goes wrong at the last possible moment.
Somehow I'm always left not being allowed to enter Jessica and always left
being made to kiss her ass. Always just as I'm about to put my cock inside
her something happens to deny me my one sexually satisfying experience
per year. And satisfying only for the sensation. Because I'm still not allowed
to cum, no matter what. As for the bird cage, you kind of get used to it
after awhile. Fortunately you can't see it on me when I'm wearing street
clothes. Jessica makes me wear it 24 hours a day seven days a week
except for when she wants to cock tease me more completely. Jessica
takes it off me when she wants to bring me to the brink of sexual
gratification and then leave me totally frustrated. Which she likes to do a
lot. In fact it would be fair to say that sexually exciting me and then
sadistically frustrating me is at the very core of our marriage. It is the
foundation from which all sexual behavior arises in Jessica. Or, rather, I
should say it is the foundation from which all sexual behavior toward me
arises in her. Jessica has many male lovers with whom she carries on an
extravagantly indulgent sexual style. Jessica cums all the time as do her
lovers. Jessica frequently comes home and makes me eat out her pussy
that is filled with the semen of her lovers. To both humiliate me and to
demonstrate how she lets other men have their sexual release. But with
me, her husband, it's different. With me it's all about sexually frustrating
me. With me nothing excites and pleases Jessica more than to find new
and more cruel ways to frustrate me. To bring me to the brink of release and
then to deny me. At which point she usually becomes quite tender with me.
In some ways, Jessica is quite loving with me. And if you were to witness
only the after-play, the moments following Jessica's sadistic and humiliating
treatment of me you would witness a very loving and tender wife with her
adoring husband. But this is deceiving. For the only times Jessica is tender
with me are following her excruciating sexual teasing of me. It's as if she
has a deep need to have someone she can degrade and mistreat with
whom she can then feel totally safe and secure and loving and tender with.
With her other lovers she simply has sex that is physically satisfying. And
a lot of it. But why she bothers with me at all is that I provide some kind of
profound emotional cathartic release for her. That's a nice way of saying she
has found someone foolish enough to put up with her sadistic
manipulations. She has told me many times that it is my bad luck that she
found me. Someone who knows how to manipulate and disappoint me all
the time. And that's what she does. And I keep putting up with it. For
some reason I am hypnotized by her. Though any sane man would leave
her in a second I find myself enthralled and enslaved by her. As painful and
frustrating as it is to be with her, there is some kind of power she has over
me. Something that makes it all worthwhile. So, this year, being as it's
been four years since I've been able to have sex with her, I am particularly
eager to have sex with my beautiful and very sexy wife. And particularly
worried that somehow, at the very last minute, something will come up that
will delay our having sex for yet another year. Jessica has now called me
into the bedroom. Jessica is lying naked on her back on top of our bed.
She is wearing a fresh coat of dark red lipstick and is wearing her four inch
black stiletto pumps and is pointing at her pussy. "Well, I guess you know
what night it is. It's that time of the year. Time for your fifteen minutes of
pleasure. You've certainly earned it. When was the last time you got to feel
my pussy wrapped around your cock?" "It was August 28, 1994."
"Hmm. That was before we got married." I notice Jessica begins fingering
her clit in a slow, circular motion. "Why, that's over four years ago! My how
the time flies. At least for me it does. But then the last time I had a cock in
my pussy was last night. And the last time you've been in my pussy was
four years ago, so, I guess it's not exactly the same. You've got to admit it's
pretty ironic. Here you marry this totally sexy woman who let you have
unlimited sexual access to her before you got married and now that you're
married to her she totally denies you any sexual pleasure. That's what you
get for marrying a bitch, I guess. Can't say I didn't warn you." Now
Jessica's fingering of her clit has picked up speed and she is rubbing herself
with greater intensity and speed. "And now look how things have turned out
for you. You're married to this totally hot woman who denies you the one
thing she gives out freely to other men, and who totally dominates you and
to whom you never, ever, can resist her bitchiness in any way." I can see
Jessica's pussy is now glistening with her pussy juice. Her lips look
engorged and moist as she continues rubbing herself. As if everything she
is saying to me is getting her hotter and hotter. Jessica motions me to
come over to where she is lying down. She places her hands on my bird
cage. She begins fingering my cock inside the cage. I instantly erect as
much as the cage will allow me, which is about two inches. "Well that
doesn't look too comfortable. I guess this being your big night and all I
should let you out of that cruel device I make you wear all the time."
Jessica bends down and talks as if she is addressing my cock in baby talk.
"Little penis must be so miserable all locked up in there. Would you like to
come out and play inside my juicy, soft and wet pussy? Would you? My
pussy is so ready for you now, finally. I hope you remember this night for a
long time little penis." And as she says "little penis" she unlocks the cage
with her key that she wears around her necklace that she always wears.
She removes the cage and fondles my cock for a minute. She turns to me
and says "I hope you still remember how to fuck a woman! It's been so
long, maybe you've forgotten how to penetrate a woman's pussy. Maybe
you've even forgotten how to cum! Of course, maybe it's like bicycle riding
and you never forget. We'll too bad we won't be able to test that out now will
we?" "Let's see, it's not been one but four whole years since you've been
inside me. You must be so horny by now. And it's also been over four years
since I've allowed you to cum at all! God, I'm so horny and I just came last
night! Poor baby, you must be even hornier than I am! I'm sure glad I'm not
you!" Jessica gives me an order. "Take off my shoes and start kissing my
feet." I start kissing her beautiful size seven feet. All the while Jessica
continues to play with herself. "Hmm. I'm just getting ready for you big
boy. Tonight is hubby's big night, isn't it! First time having sex with his wife,
ever! Well, don't get too anxious about it, after all, sex between a husband
and wife is a beautiful, natural part of marriage. And sometimes the first
time you do it, it isn't even that good. But don't worry, you'll get another
chance next year I'm sure." Jessica starts to giggle. By now Jessica's
pussy is sopping wet. And my cock is swollen and throbbing with
expectation of imminent penetration. "I want to be nice and juicy for you.
Since you won't get another chance to fuck me for another year I really want
this to be a memorable experience for you. Poor baby has had to wait four
long years for this. I so want you to be fully satisfied after all these
frustrating delays you've had to endure. And you've been so understanding.
You've been so patient." Jessica is really getting into her masturbation. I
am getting hotter and hotter watching her stroke herself. Although she had
said that this was all in preparation for our fucking she seems now to be
more concerned with her own pleasure than with mine. She seems to be
getting dangerously close to cuming. I start to get nervous watching this
because I know two things about Jessica when she cums. And that is that
when Jessica cums s she loses all interest in sex for a while and she also
becomes extremely bitchy. "You better hope that I don't accidentally cum
before you're inside me." "Why is that?" "Because, let's just say, it won't
exactly help your cause..." I begin more passionately kissing Jessica's feet
in the hopes that it will make her more merciful. I take her left foot in my
hands and begin kissing it more tenderly. Unfortunately, this seems to have
the opposite effect from the one I wanted. As Jessica's eyes and mine lock
with her witnessing my submission to her request to kiss her feet, Jessica's
face twists into a haughty sneer. And at that exact moment Jessica
begins to have a very intense orgasm. I just watch as Jessica screams out
in delight as she has a wild and lengthy orgasm. Her hips buck as she
seems to be flooded in ecstasy. After a few minutes Jessica says "Mmm.
That was such a great orgasm my toes are tingling." Jessica continues to
moan softly in the afterglow of her orgasm. All the while I still am holding
her beautiful foot, still kissing it, my penis swollen, throbbing and erect,
eagerly awaiting her command to begin fucking her. Jessica opens her eyes
and looks into mine. Her facial expression can only be described as a
condescending smirk. "I was just getting ready for you and then when you
started kissing my foot like that I couldn't resist it any more. What a shame
for you! But you can keep kissing my foot for awhile if you want to." Jessica
begins to giggle again. Not knowing for sure what Jessica means I decide
that it's better to play it safe and so I continue kissing Jessica's foot. After a
few more minutes of this Jessica kicks her foot away from my lips. Jessica
stares into my eyes for a moment and then says "Poor hubby. And you
were so close this time." Jessica turns over and gets on her hands and
knees and proceeds to stick her beautiful ass into the air facing me. She
tells me to get on the bed and to place my face near her ass. I comply.
Now that Jessica has satisfied herself sexually I have a feeling all hope of
sexual pleasure for me is about to come to an end, her end. With her
puckered asshole about six inches from my face Jessica's voice takes on
an extremely bored and bitchy tone, as if this whole scene has suddenly
become very boring and annoying to her. In a very matter of fact voice
Jessica announces "You know what, why don't we take a pass on you
having sex with me again this year and instead of you fucking me I permit
you to lick my asshole. What do you say? I was so hot and so ready for
you to fuck me, I was so wet... I was just about to tell you to fuck me,
maybe thirty more seconds. The only trouble is I got so hot and so ready
that when I should have stopped rubbing myself I kept on going and I just
had such a great orgasm. And now I'm not horny anymore, not at all. Not
even a little bit. If you can still remember what it used to be like to have an
orgasm I'm sure you'll agree that right after you cum you kind of lose your
desire for awhile. Though I kind of doubt you can remember that feeling,
being that it's been over four years now." Jessica begins to giggle.. "Now
that I've cum I'm more in the mood to have your tongue on my asshole than
having to endure your cock inside me. Take a minute to decide. It's up to
you. You can either put your cock inside me now and fuck me for fifteen
minutes. Or, you can do what I want you to do and forfeit the opportunity to
fuck me for another whole year. Five years sounds so much better, so
much more of an accomplishment than four years. It kind of has a nice ring
to it, don't you think? And so as it won't be a complete loss for you I'll let
you kiss and lick my ass for...let's see, how about a whole five minutes.
That seems fair doesn't it? After all, not every man that gets to fuck me gets
to lick my ass. By giving up having sex with me for another year you get to
worship my asshole for five minutes! But remember it's totally up to you.
But know that I'm just not in the mood for you to be inside me. Not at all.
But after a totally satisfying orgasm like that, I am ready for you to worship
my pretty little asshole. It would be the icing on the cake, my cake. It
would be such a nice sacrifice from you to me." I move my face closer,
right up to her puckered asshole. For a moment I think about my options:
fuck Jessica now, for the first time in four years, or give up my one chance
of pleasure with her to simply lick her asshole for five minutes, an act
Jessica requires of me all the time. In a bitchy and bored tone Jessica
says "Well, fuck me or lick me, I haven't got all night." Hearing her bitchy
tone pushes me over the edge. I make my choice. I know what I must do. I
know what Jessica wants me to do. I place my lips on her asshole and
begin kissing it passionately. "That's a good boy!" Jessica says. As I
continue kissing and licking her asshole Jessica continues to taunt me.
"This whole thing is all your fault, you know. If only you had told me to stop
rubbing myself I would have - and right now you'd be thrusting your cock
deep inside me, feeling my juicy pussy all over your hard cock. If only you
hadn't started kissing my foot in that adoring way." Jessica starts to giggle
again. "And then, when I give you the choice to fuck me or to lick my
asshole, you choose to lick my asshole. You gave up fucking me for the
first time in four years for licking out my asshole for five minutes! You're so
pathetic you deserve my asshole on your lips!" I look up at the mirror we
have on the headboard and see Jessica's face as she says this. She is
looking at me with a contemptuous sneer. As Jessica says all this my
adoration of her ass and asshole is now at a fevered pitch. The more she
humiliates and degrades me the more passionately I kiss and lick Jessica's
asshole. Jessica, sensing my having some pleasure in all of this looks at
the clock on the night stand and announces "That's all you get. It's only
been three and a half minutes but I'm tired and want to go to sleep. All this
humiliating and frustrating you has tired me out." I give Jessica's asshole
one final adoring kiss and move up alongside her on the bed. Jessica moves
over onto her back so that now I am lying on top of her, my swollen penis
just inches from her pussy. Jessica's tone begins to switch. She frequently
switches from being bitchy to being girlish and tender to being bitchy again.
It's part of her charm. "It's alright with me if you want to put your cock next
to my pussy, that way you can feel how wet it is and how warm. I want you
to feel a little bit of what you missed out on." I do as Jessica instructs
and place my cock so it is resting on top of Jessica's very wet and very
warm pussy. It feels unbelievably good and unbelievably frustrating at the
same time. Though more frustrating than good. Jessica begins kissing my
face tenderly for a few moments and then begins licking my face with her
tongue. She knows how much this turns me on. Now Jessica becomes
all tender with me. Well, tender in the way Jessica knows how to be
tender. "Honey, I kind of forgot to tell you something that I probably should
have told you earlier, before you made your choice. Ooops. I guess in all
the excitement I forgot to tell you about some new rules for you that I've
come up with." Jessica starts to lick my face like it's an ice cream cone
and it's getting me even more frustrated. "It turns out that when I give you
the choice of having sex with me and you decline, even if I've asked you to
decline and you're the one who prevents you from having sex with me then
instead of losing out for another year before being allowed to have sex with
me again you forever forfeit the right to have sex with me. I guess I should
have told you about this special rule before I offered you the choice but I just
forgot, oh well." Jessica continues to tenderly kiss me all over my face as
she explains. "I guess I never figured that after all this time you'd
actually submit to my cruel and selfish wishes yet again. I guess I figured
that after four years of not being able to have sex with your wife there'd just
be no dissuading you. I kind of built that rule in as a kind of fail-safe so that
if I ever taunted you with a choice like that you'd know enough to stand up
to me and just have your way with me. But I guess I should have told you
about it. I guess a deterrent is no good if you don't tell someone about it.
Oh, well, live and learn. " Jessica begins rubbing her pussy against my
throbbing erection. "Poor baby never gets a lucky break, does he?"
Jessica moves her hips down and up so that her pussy rubs against my
cock from her clit all the way down to the bottom of her pussy. Starting to
talk in the tone a mother talks to her upset child Jessica says "Poor baby
gets punished whenever he gives in to his bitchy wife! It's just not fair! Here
she was the one being selfish asking him not to have as good a time as he
could have and to delay his gratification yet again just because she got
greedy and lazy and for all his troubles he gets penalized for being
punished! It's just not fair is it?" Jessica begins licking my face again. "It
probably would have been more fair if you knew that you could never have
sex with me again if you submitted to my bitchiness huh?" I nod. "Poor
hubby never gets a break from his bitchy wife does he?" I shake my head.
"He just gets punished either way." I nod. "Does hubby love his wife?" I
nod. "Does hubby crave sex with his wife just so badly?" I nod. "Does
hubby love his wife even more when she's bitchy to him?" I nod. "So, the
bitchier wife is to hubby the more hubby loves her?" I nod. "Because of
that hubby knows he won't ever get to cum or be inside his wife ever again,
doesn't he?" I nod. "Poor hubby, wife gets everything and he gets nothing."
I nod. "Tell me how much you love me." "I adore you. I couldn't possibly
love you any more than I do." Jessica gets up and comes back with one
of her tools, a cold ice pack. She begins applying the ice to my swollen and
by now very purple cock. After a few moments my cock begins shrinking
from the cold. Jessica picks up my Bird Cage chastity device and quickly
places it on me." "I bet when you married me you didn't know that you'd be
spending almost all your time with your cock in a metal cage and just about
never inside your beautiful wife's pussy. But I bet in a way the feel of this
cock cage is second nature to you. I bet it feels good to you, you know,
safe, secure. You might not even like the feel of your wife's pussy anymore.
It's all hot and wet and juicy and soft. It's nothing like your cage, all cold
and metallic and restricting. I bet by now you've come to think of that cage
as your wife. You've got to stay faithful to your metal wife don't you? It
wouldn't be right if you had sex with me. Your metal wife would feel
betrayed, wouldn't she? No it just wouldn't be right." Jessica begins talking
to my penis again, like at the beginning of this night. "Poor little penis,
didn't get to be inside my warm and juicy pussy. And now he's never going
to feel the inside of his wife's pussy ever again. Oh well. Poor little penis."
And as Jessica says the word "little" she clicks the lock shut, securing me
to my metal wife. She then rubs her pussy against my cock inside its cage.
As she does so she giggles a little bit, knowing I can feel a little bit of her
pussy through the cage. "Well, good night you two, and try to keep it
down." Jessica giggles at her word play. As Jessica giggles, she kisses
me all over my face and then rolls over and goes to sleep.

17 July 2009

Office Exchange

Heads turned as she walked across the workroom floor, floral perfume
giving warning of her approach, tapping away on 3" heels, with taffeta
petticoats rustling under a full skirt and long, shoulder-length hair
gently swaying rhythmically to and fro in time with her steps. The few
men working there admired her legs, encased in seamed black hose. Their
admiring eyes followed her across the floor and up the stairs leading to
the main offices. They could only stare, as anything else would get them
fired for sexual harassment!

Opening a paneled door, her morning ordeal finished, she strolled down a
carpeted hallway towards the area where her workstation was positioned.
Upon reaching her desk, the first thing that caught her eye was a note:
"James, please see me as soon as you can! Aunt Vera."

She sat down in her chair, hard! James was a name from the past, Aunt
Vera saw to that. The name was now Janice, and she was Ms. Susan's
Personal Assistant, in reality a secretary (although a good working
partnership had evolved). Eight months ago, she was the secretary and
"he" was a VIP.

"Oh well, I've got to water the plants first," Janice thought. She got
the inner office key, went into the private bathroom, filled the watering
can kept there and went about her first job of the day. After finishing,
she checked Ms. Susan's desk for any late instructions. That's when she
found the second note: "Susan, I must see you at the earliest
opportunity. I have a most important duty to perform! Vera."

Vera referred to Vera Lord, CEO of Lord's Ladies Inc., Importers and
Distributors of Fine Ladies' Lingerie! His Aunt! Of course, Susan was
Susan
McGill, Janice's immediate superior.

"Now what! I thought I was doing well! At least I repaid almost half of
what she said I owe. If I get fired, I won't be able to repay all of it,"
Janice thought gloomily, "Well, I won't know what she wants until I get
there!"

Janice set off for the executive suite of her aunt. Along the way, she
said hello to all the new friends she made over the last six months. Some
lunch and shopping chums, and some to just chat with. She knew she's
going to miss them --they had all become such great, accepting, friends.
The next few steps were hard as Janice tried to fight back tears at the
idea of losing them. Emotions seem to be easier to express now, and tears
were so much more natural.

At last, she came to Ms. Gloria Peters, Vera's friend, secretary, and
personal assistant. "Janice, how nice to see you! She's been waiting for
you," Gloria said with a smile. After a kiss (goodbye, maybe?) and hug
from Gloria, Janice entered the executive office with petticoats
rustling, curtseyed to the woman behind the desk, on the phone at
present, and waited for permission to sit.

Vera Lord was a woman in her late fifties who looked like she was in her
early thirties. A strong businesswoman with a dominant, no nonsense,
personality about her, she could be as strict as an English Governess,
yet as gentle as a mother cat moving her kittens to safety. She saw her
"niece" enter and curtsey, and she smiled inwardly at that. A nod in her
direction was enough to indicate she should sit.

Janice saw the nod, gave a second curtsey, and sat down, next to Susan,
carefully tending the skirt and petticoats she was required to wear. With
that taken care of, she folded her hands in her lap and sat quietly,
contemplating the last few months' ordeal.

Her thoughts drifted back to a Friday, eight months ago, when this all
started. He had been called into this same inner sanctum when he was hit
with the bad news.


"James, I had an audit of the books in your section, and there is a
discrepancy of $10,650. Now a sheet you signed indicated that all the
bookkeeping figures were correct. Did you look at those numbers and check
them?"

"Truthfully, Aunt Vera, I didn't! I get so many papers to sign or
initial, I just can't keep track of them all."

"This is getting to be a habit. First, three shipping dates were off by
two days, then a letter of apology goes to the wrong customer, now this.
You do know you are responsible for all monies handled in your area? You
may be my nephew, but I don't think you're right for this position. I
can't fire you, because of the audit discrepancy, and I won't have you in
shipping, because you aren't big enough."

He remembered it was at this point Susan entered.

"You wish to see me, ma'am?"

"Yes, Susan, and please call me Vera. Starting Monday, you will be VP in
charge of Shipping and Customer Relations."

"I don't understand, isn't your . . . ," Susan started to say.

"Wait a minute, Susan, and you'll understand. Okay, now for you, James!
You owe the company a little over ten thousand dollars, let's make it an
even ten grand. You will be Susan's personal assistant, and work at the
same rate of pay as all the other secretaries. A one hundred dollar
deduction will be made weekly as repayment. Now, since you will be
working as a secretary, you must adhere to the office dress code!"

Now the entire office staff was female, and one rule was: "Skirt-suits or
dresses shall be worn. No pants, slacks, or shorts! Office personnel
must, at all times, present a feminine appearance to visitors."

"Aunt Vera, I can't do that. I'm a man," James exploded!

"You will do as I tell you, young man, or you can repay me now and find
some other job!"

There was no other choice, his debts saw to that. "You know I can't pay
you! I'm in debt now, so what choice do I have?" James said, trying to
control his anger and frustration. The situation seemed to be out of his
hands.

"None, really. Now, as I was saying, you will adhere to the office dress
code in its entirety. Do I make myself clear!"

"Yes, ma'am," James replied. He wished he could fight back a little more,
but she had him over a barrel.

"Now, since you need a little more, shall we say punishment, rules for
dress, you will do the following: you must always be well made-up; you
will always wear a slip or petticoats and seamed stockings; when entering
my office or Susan's, you will curtsey; and, I want to be able to hear
you coming, so you will wear heels at all times. Oh, and I would like you
to get better acquainted with our product line. Is that clear!"

"Yes, ma'am," a defeated James said, his head hanging down.

He remembered the weekend from Hell, all in preparation for his debut as
Janice on Monday. There were instructions in make-up, heels, dress and
curtseying that seemed to be never-ending. When Monday came, with his
first walk from employee parking, he could feel all those male eyes - did
they know it was he, or just another pretty face? Could they see he was a
male in a dress? At least inside, there was a welcome by the "girls."

Vera's voice jolted him back to reality.


"James," Vera started, "I asked you and Susan in here today because . . .
this isn't easy for me to say . . . I made a big mistake! Umm, I had the
audit figures rechecked, and, it seems, the auditing company missed some
records. Apparently, they were unavailable at the time of the audit, and
were, well, just missed. There is no error in your department!"

"James, I can be out of your office by the end of the day," Susan said.

"You mean I can have my old job back," James said excitedly, somewhat
sadly adding, "and I can go back to wearing pants, too."

"Your old job at your old pay and your old clothes," Vera added.

He sat there for a minute, thinking. Thought after thought flooded
through like a torrent of water after a severe rainstorm. Back to HIS
office, and the way it was before. Back to closed doors and isolation.
Lunches he or his secretary brought in. His secretary sticking her head
in the door once in a while with papers for him to initial -- not sign,
initial mind you.

"No, auntie. Please, I want to stay as Susan's secretary. When I worked
in that office, I was separated from everyone, like I had some disease. I
ate lunch in there. Susan came in once in a while to give me papers to
initial, never to sign. Papers she passed on to me! I came in and stayed
all day not really contributing anything or knowing anyone in this
organization. In the last eight months, I got to know people in the
office. Do you know Caroline's daughter's name? It's Chris! I went to a
baby shower! I file, type, make coffee, greet people, and lunch and shop
with the girls, my friends! I don't want to go back to that lonely,
separated existence in that office -- it's a prison to me. Please, Aunt
Vera, just let me stay where I am!" Janice pleaded.

Vera was not too surprised by this turn of events. "Okay, you may stay,
but, except for the curtsey, I must insist on all the rules staying in
place!"

"Auntie, I wouldn't have it otherwise!"

Susan sat for a minute, looked at Vera who nodded her assent to go-ahead
with what they had previously discussed. She got up and walked to where
Janice was sitting. Her hand went to her pocket as she knelt down in
front of Janice. "Over the last few months, I've worked closely with you.
I saw a wonderful person: gentle, kind, thoughtful, and considerate to
all around her. Janice, I've fallen deeply in love with you," Susan said
as she carefully opened the ring box, and took out an engagement ring,
"Will you marry me, Janice?"

"Oh, God! YES! YES! YES! I've wanted to get up enough courage to say the
same to you for so long. I have come to love you more than life itself,"
James said, as Susan slipped the ring on his now feminine finger, "I've
got to go and show this to all the girls! Please ma'am, may I be
excused?"

Vera smiled at her. "Try to get some work done today, dear."

"I'll try, but I'm so excited," Janice squealed, then broke into a fit of
giggles, "I feel just like a schoolgirl!" She left the office to show her
beautiful engagement ring to everyone.

Back in the office, Vera looked at Susan and smiled. "That worked out
really well. I think he will be very happy as your secretary!"

"Assistant, if you please. He will when he sees his raise," Susan said,
"And what about that deduction?"

"Went to pay those outstanding bills he was worried about. He'll be very
happy when he sees he's free and clear of debt."

"I can't wait to see his face! So how was the medical report?"

"The last tests showed his stress level is down, heart rate and blood
pressure are near normal, and he seems to be happier and more content.
Susan, if you ever tell him the whole story about the shortfall being a
phony, just to get him in dresses to reduce his stress, I'll personally
see you don't get a Christmas bonus!"

Susan smiled at the thought before saying, "Who would have thought
dressing a male in pretty things would prevent him from having a possibly
fatal heart attack!"

"Well, Susan, in this case, those dresses and a better diet plus a
different frame of mind seemed to have worked a miracle. I want you to
have James as a wife for as long as possible!"

"Me, too, Vera, me too!"

Relatively Speaking

This is the first story on this blog.. Hope you all like it..

June 12th

Dear Eve:

Your son’s potential arrival has the whole place in a tizzy!

I can’t truthfully say that he’ll be welcomed by the three girls though. When
Mattie, my most recent maid, heard that the household was going to be increased
by one more, she actually tried to blackmail me into increasing her wages! As
she was worthless, I let her go. The girls didn’t like her anyway, so there was
no problem there. The shit hit the proverbial fan though, when I told them that
when David arrived, he’d take over the outside chores, and they could split the
housekeeping stuff that Mattie was doing. Naturally, they’re blaming him a
little, but I’m sure they’ll back off after he kicks a little ass – it’s about
time, they had a man around here!)

I guess I should admit now that all three of my girls aren’t quite the docile
little creatures I’ve been describing since we got back together again. All of
them more like you than me I guess. Which reminds me. You still coaching your
old Girl’s Basketball team at your old college? I used to boast how you almost
lead them to the National Championship. Changed days, huh?

But with the girls all demanding that I have to pitch in too? I’ll be doing the
cooking. Which is the reason for this little note. They all eat like their life
will end in the next ten minutes if they don’t put some food – any food – in
their mouths! (Something like you used to be). I’m assuming David will be the
same? Just thought I’d better check and make sure he doesn’t have any allergies
or whatever. So get back to me A.S.A.P. Okay?

Your loving sister (The Pretty one!)

Donna.

* * *

June 14,

Dear Eve:

Okay, Okay! I’ve been just as guilty as you have! But I keep asking myself
why we continue to lie to each other. Can’t say as I find any answers though.
Maybe that’s what caused our long estrangement? Anyway? I’m somewhat at a loss
as to what I do next, so let me put my cards on the table – face UP!

Neither Patricia nor either of the twins, despite what I may have implied, are
quite the dainty, feminine, ladylike kids I may have described, accidentally of
course, to you. Patricia is almost made in your image – tall, blonde, athletic
and aggressive. The other two are following closely in her footsteps. When they
were younger I was able to teach them some of the basics of becoming young
women, but these days seem long gone, it being difficult to impress your will on
three teenagers who tower over you.

You, on the other hand, definitely gave me the impression that David was “all
boy”, rambunctious and difficult to control. I’ll admit that you said nothing
specifically, about his height, but I know I got the impression of him being at
least muscular. I’ll agree that he has an imperious air about him that seems to
have my girls impressed for the moment, but in all honesty? I don’t know how
long he can carry this off. I’m already seeing sly little glances from one girl
to the others and have the feeling that any awe I may have generated in them
regarding him may be wearing off rapidly – and the poor little dear is already
starting to look around him nervously as the girls encircle him.

I mean to say, Eve! The boy is almost a mirror image of me when I was that age!
Petite and slim – almost dainty! His peaches and cream complexion! Those
silky, curling, eyelashes! I haven’t seen him in shorts yet – but if his legs
are in the same shape as his arms? I think it’s safe to assume that he hasn’t
any muscles – anywhere! And his hair being that long? Small, plump, hands and
feet. Eve? I hate to say this, but he looks almost like a dainty little girl!

So here’s my problem sister. He seems like a nice little boy. Kinda bossy
perhaps and that may help keep my three monsters at bay for a little while. They
really don’t care for boys overmuch. I suppose I could protect him from them
but I couldn’t possibly do it twenty four hours a day. I don’t think they’d
bully him too much, but I’ve the feeling that humiliation is awaiting him in one
fashion or another. Now, from what you’ve told me, you need this time
desperately to ready your team for some big competition and to cement
relationships with your new significant other – but for David’s sake? It may be
best if I return him to you, post haste. I’ll be glad to pay his fare as I know
that you’re kinda strapped financially.

Let me suggest that if this is okay by you, wire me immediately – one word
“Yes”. Will be all that’s needed – and I promise he’ll get back to you safe and
sound. If it’s not convenient for you? Don’t bother doing anything. I’m
sending this Express Delivery to hurry things up.

Your loving sister

Donna

* * *

June 18th

Dear Eve:

I know that me not having a phone is a pain – but YOU try living in a house with
three teenage girls! The incoming calls at all hours. The constant fighting
when we had only the one phone – and then the BILLS when I got them individual
cell phones! I told them what was going to happen if they didn’t cut me some
slack. They didn’t listen – and this is how it’s going to be until school
starts in September. They may get their way in most things – but it’s ME that
pays the bills, so this is the way it is going to be! And anyway? I didn’t see
you being in any great hurry to reply to my last letter, so if you don’t care
for what happens? Don’t blame me..

There’s been one major change, I suppose. As it appears to be one that David is
all in favor of, I’ve gone along with it.

The day after I wrote, I saw him outside with the girls. (He was wearing
shorts. I was right about his legs – pretty and smooth – just like his arms).
Patricia was introducing him to the vagaries of the lawn mower, while Breanne
and Tiffany looked on. I should have thought – the mower is a power one, but it
takes some strength. Patricia wheeled it around the lawns as if it were a push
toy, then turned it over to David. The poor thing struggled and struggled for a
little while, then gave up, blushing. Then my three monsters led him off
towards the pool – no doubt to show him how to clean it. I didn’t think of them
for a while.

When they showed up again, Breanne and Tiffany were on both sides of him, and
Patricia was right behind him. The poor little thing looked flushed and there
was a trapped expression in his eyes, but other than that, he seemed okay.
“Hey mom!” Breanne said. “Guess what?”
“What?” I asked.
“David’s swapping chores with us!” Tiffany replied.
“Yeah mom!” Patricia said, smiling happily. “He’s not used to the mower,” so
swapped me for the vacuuming and dusting.”
“And gonna do the dinner dishes for me, if I do the pool!” Tiffany added.
“And the washing and ironing for me – if I’ll do his weeding!” Breanne said,
grinning.

I was going to object, until I realized that by staying close to me in the
house, David might be under my protection more, but I had to ask. “Are you sure
this is what you want to do, David? If you do this? I’ll make you do as good a
job as I expect from the girls!”
“Yes ma’am,” he said meekly.
“Y’see mom? The mower’s too heavy for him” Patricia said.
“And he’s scared he’ll get a bad sunburn!” from Tiffany.
“And he didn’t like getting his knees all dirty!” Breanne chimed in.
What was I supposed to do? Complain? Now way dear. I’ve always demanded that
my children have chores to do. David has made his choice. I’ll keep you
informed as to how he works out.

Love

Donna

* * *

June 21st.

Dear Eve:

Well, I suppose I have to tell you that David is working out very well about the
house.
The only thing is this. Somehow or other, he’s been convinced (Probably by
either blackmail or threats of force) that he should be wearing Mattie’s aprons
and dust caps while he’s doing the housework. When I first saw him wear them,
I’ll admit that I thought he looked terribly cute, but suggested that they might
be considered a little feminine for a young man to be wearing? He blushed (very
prettily I must add) and took them off. A little while later, Patricia came
into the house for something. Nothing was said, but he looked very nervous then
scurried away. The next time I saw him, he was wearing the apron and cap again.
I rarely see him without them if he’s doing housework now – which is a lot of
the time.

That said? He’s an excellent help around the house. Doesn’t complain about
picking up after the girls the way that Mattie did – and it didn’t take him long
to learn the rudiments of laundry. He does a lovely job of hand washing and
ironing my lingerie! I even discovered him sewing a button on a blouse for
Tiffany the other evening! She was SO delighted! Pulled him onto her lap and
gave him a nice big kiss! He looked so shy and helpless, sitting there, her
lipstick all over his lips!

But talking about cosmetics and suchlike? Yesterday, I was making alterations
to a skirt and asked him in to give me a helping hand. (You should have seen
the blushes! You’d think he’d never seen a lady in a slip before!). As a
matter of fact, I must giggle a little when I tell you that looking down on him
as he knelt beside me pinning up the hem? I forgot who was actually helping me –
and actually called him Mattie! Isn’t that hilarious? Though now that I think
on it? What I’d intended to say here was that I think he may have taken to
wearing perfume! I can’t say for sure – you know how perfume can stay on the
frills of an apron? It may have even came from my skirt, I don’t know, but when
I sniffed? I could see the back of his neck turning SO red! So it may have
been the scent that made me think he was a female.

Then? It sounds silly, I know, but it was only seeing his bare neck that I
realized that his hair was pinned up neatly under his gauzy maid’s cap.
“David?” I said gently.
“Yes?” he said, turning his face up to me.
I gave him a nice smile and slowly untied the dainty velvet bow that tied his
mob cap in place. As if hypnotized, he kept on staring up at me as I pulled the
gauzy fabric up and off his head.. He looked so different with his hair in a
center part and two gold barrettes holding each side in place – and it took me a
few seconds to realize that he looked almost exactly like me when I’d had that
photo taken when I was sixteen!
“You look very nice, David!” I told him as I adjusted one of the barrettes
slightly. Then, for some unknown reason? He started to cry!
“I wasn’t meaning to be critical of how you’d done your hair dear, Please don’t
be offended!” I said sincerely, and taking his face between my hands, gave him a
nice kiss.

Then I asked him if anything was the matter. His lips trembled but he shook his
head and said that everything was all right. I asked him how he was getting on
with the girls – and if they were treating him decently, because I’d heard them
teasing him now and then. His eyes filled with tears, but he whispered that the
girls were extremely nice to him – very affectionate. What else could I think?
I just assumed that he’d got some implied criticism from me adjusting his nice
new hairdo.

Then, I had to admire the apt way that he fitted the muslin cap to his head and
tied the tiny bow at the front. Almost laughed at how girlishly he surveyed
himself in the mirror and pulled some fine curl tendrils down from under the cap
to show on his brow – VERY fetching! Yet, when he turned and found me admiring
his technique? Instead of accepting my obvious admiration (I mean, how many boys
can tie a pretty bow at their own forehead, with or without a mirror, huh?) he
blushed a very deep shade of red.

But apart from his regular blushing, it would appear that he is settling down
quite nicely amongst us. I’ll keep you abreast of future developments.

Love

Donna

* * *

June 30th,

Dear Eve:

My sincere apologies for the delay. I’ve meant and meant to write almost on a
daily basis to let you know what was happening here, but each day seemed to
bring new developments and, although I was frightened that you might take my
lack of writing to assume that nothing had changed, I still felt that things
were in transition and that anything I put down in writing might cause undue
consternation, or worrying, on your part.

Let me start off by saying that by the time I wrote the last letter, my fears
about the girls disliking David had been laid to rest. They adore their cousin!
Almost came to blows with each other as to whose lap he sat on at night watching
TV – well, they’d be watching the boob tube, but him? He’s such a treasure!
Would sit quietly there making repairs to their clothes or crocheting – has even
taken up embroidery! He was obviously embarrassed by their lavish displays of
affection and actually tried to dissuade the girls by saying he was busy – but I
think that they finally learned that they were making him uncomfortable so
stopped arguing in front of him. They simply started being sensible and taking
turns. He now simply brings his work with him, puts it on a table beside the
“Girl du nuit” as I laughingly call my daughters, then settles decorously into
her lap, smoothing his apron skirts around him as he does so, then leans
backwards into an embrace. It’s such a lovely thing to see!

But then – I don’t know how to describe what happened, so hope you’ll forgive me
if I waffle a little bit – I had an epiphany sort of thing. I had been writing
a letter to a friend in my bedroom and decided to go downstairs. On the way
there, I passed David’s room and, as his door was open, looked in to see him
ironing away there – the picture of contentment as he was carefully ironing
lingerie while paying a little attention to a soap opera on a small TV in his
room. I thought I’d drop in on him and pass the time of day.

I laughed at him a little – I mean, blushing furiously when I complimented him
on how nicely he kept his aprons and his caps – told him he had to learn how to
accept a compliment.

But he seemed disconcerted for some reason. Gave every indication that he
wanted to stop ironing my scanties – my girls are into Jockey and sports undies
– but I told him not to be silly, I wasn’t there to distract him from his
chores. Then, I noticed something rather peculiar – the quantity of my lingerie
items that had been ironed already or were visible in the basket. Now, as you
know, I’ve always been a wearer of pretty underthings and have no hesitancy in
changing often – but what I was seeing puzzled me. I started counting the
panties that were folded, already ironed.

David was fidgeting and blushing, practically hopping from one foot to the
other. “It isn’t me, aunt Donna!” He blurted out suddenly.
“Isn’t you what, darling?” I asked, still counting.
“It’s the girls!” he said quite loudly.
“The girls that what?”
“That – That – That make . .”
“What’s all this racket?” Patricia asked sticking her head in through the door.
“And what are the girls making, David?”

She must have given the poor boy a scare for, although she was smiling, he
turned ashen white and stopped talking.
“That’s very rude Patricia!” I admonished her. “Now! You were saying, David?”
As he stammered and stuttered that he’d forgotten what he had been taking about,
I suddenly noticed a black bra, garter belt, and panties had been ironed – now I
knew that I hadn’t worn black undies that week. And then it dawned on me!
“David darling? Turn your back to me, would you please?” I asked him softly.
“Please, aunt Donna, do I have to?” he pleaded, his eyes filling with tears.
“Yes David, you do!” Patricia said quickly. “I thought you’d learned that much
already!”
“Oh, I have, Miss Patricia! I have!” he said submissively and turned quickly.
I wondered what the ‘Miss Patricia’ was all about, but ignored it as I took the
tip of my fingernail and ran it up along David’s right buttock- and then
horizontally across. Wasn’t too surprised to feel the panty line – nor the
suspender straps of a garter belt. I took a hold of his pant leg and lifted it
to reveal the tops of his shoes – and the nylon stockings he was wearing. Then
I slid my hand between his shirt and the back of his apron. Felt the bra strap
there. Couldn’t help giving it a little tug, and heard the slight snapping noise
as I released it. Took my hand away. “David? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d
have understood!”
“Tell you what?” He asked.
“That you’re a transvestite!”
“What’s that, mom?” Patricia asked innocently.
“Some males just love to wear women’s clothes,” I informed her.
“Like dresses and skirts? I’ve never seen him wear any of these.” She said.
“He’s probably shy about it,” I informed her. “But he’s been wearing my undies.
Haven’t you David?” I asked him.

He looked at me almost as if I’d astonished him. “But auntie Eve . .” he
started, but got interrupted by Patricia who spoke up. “David! You been
wearing moms panties – and her bras?”
The poor boy started to sniffle. “But . . But . . But . .” he started, but I
saved him further embarrassment by putting a comforting arm around his shoulder
and pulling him close. “It’s all right David! It’s perfectly okay to like pretty
things to wear! Now why don’t you just finish your ironing, and I’ll go back to
my room and look you out some more nice stuff to wear when you feel like it.
That way you won’t feel so guilty at borrowing my stuff without telling me.
Come back to my bedroom when you’re finished and I’ll give them to you.”
He actually started to wail! “But . . But . .”
“David! How often must you be told?” Patricia said sharply. “Honestly! Some
times I just want to . .”
“I’m sorry Miss Patricia,” he gulped. “I’ll only be a few minutes before I
finish.”
“That’s better!” Patricia said.

Again I wondered about him calling her ‘Miss’, but was too engrossed in planning
what clothing items to give him. He’s almost exactly my size and though my hair
has been colored now, I was pretty sure that our complexions were close enough
that anything that would suit me, would suit him.
“Can I come and help you mom?” Patricia asked.
“Don’t see why not.” I replied.

The poor boy could hardly speak for gratitude when he saw the lovely sets of
lingerie, the four skirts, the three dresses – the stockings, the sweaters and
the shoes that Patricia and I had such fun looking out for him. He cried real
tears when Patricia suggested that as we were only guessing that he and I were
the same size, so maybe he should try a dress on before he took all of the stuff
to his bedroom? Then, when he was too slow in choosing what outfit to try on,
she laughingly picked one out for him – a sweet little bouffant cocktail dress
that I’d worn a number of times.

It was a little large for him in the bodice, but some tissues in his bra cups
soon fixed that. When the twins heard the discussions we were having about what
shoes he should wear with the dress and came in to find out what was going on,
they were delighted! It was them that suggested that he keep the dress on all
day – just so that he’d get accustomed to being dressed properly. I think he was
shy and wanted to argue, but all three girls just pleaded with him – and he gave
in. That night Breanne and Tiffany made his face up while he sat on Patricia’s
knees. As they’re not that good with makeup, I had to step in and give them a
hand. He made such a pretty girl!
Then later that night, at bed time they put some of his hair up in rollers and
asked for a nightgown for him (I’d forgotten about sleepwear) so we got him a
few nightgowns and baby dolls from my room. Again the poor boy cried with
gratitude as he modeled them for us.

And since then Eve? He’s turned into the daughter I’ve always wanted – which
may explain the rest of my delay in writing. You see, I was wondering. If you
and your new girlfriend are just setting up house? Might not having David stay
here with us girls let you both get used to each other? I’ve been checking with
the twin’s school. I know it’s a girl’s school – but it really would be easy to
get him breast implants – and I’m pretty sure I could get him enrolled so that
he could graduate from there next year. If they won’t take him, I’m sure he
could stay at home with me – he just LOVES housework now. As a matter of fact,
he’s taken to wearing Mattie’s uniforms now and then – just loves to act the
maid for my girls when they have friends over. So? If you and your new friend
ever decide to make an unexpected call? Just make sure you check out the maid
who answers the door – it may be your son!


THE END THE END.

16 July 2009

Yuppie!!

Welcome

I have spent hours and hours finding good femdom stories. All stories are not good. Some look good but are actually very boring. So here I am attempting to post all those good stories out there, everywhere. :)