Ascension -t

I guess I should have seen it coming, but love is blind, and I do love her. We
have been married for 12 years. We were married ten years when it started.
Kathleen had always been very sure of herself and very sure of what was best
for the marriage and me. It was her second marriage, my first. She was six
years older than me and made it clear from the beginning that I would have to
work to keep her. I didn’t mind, she was the most wonderful woman I had ever
met. She told me up front that she enjoyed sex and expected to be pleasured
often and well and that if I wasn’t up to the task she knew of several men who
could satisfy her in the manner she expected.
Kathleen had many men friends and made it clear that she wasn’t going to give
them up just because she was married. She promised to remain faithful as long
as I was able to keep her content sexually and emotionally. For the first few
years it was easy. She had her dates with her "boys" but I was confident
nothing was going on. From the start Kathleen let it be known that she
expected oral sex, and expected to have at least two orgasms orally before I
entered her. When I expressed a desire to receive oral sex she was cool to the
idea. She reminded me that my job was to keep her happy if I still expected
fidelity.
Kathleen had been firm with me about so called "men’s and women’s roles" in
our relationship. What this meant to me is that I was expected to do most of
the things a wife usually did, and she didn’t do much. Kathleen had her ideas
about my clothing and insisted on me being dressed to her specifications and
sometimes I wasn’t too happy with her choices. One time she bought me two pair
of what she called Italian slacks. They may have been Italian but I suspected
they were for Italian women. They had no back pockets, very narrow belt loops,
a fake fly and hidden side zipper. They had no cuffs and were cut as though
they would look best with a high heel. I didn’t like these pants and told her
so. I said I have no way to carry my wallet or keys. The next day she brought
home a "man’s hand bag" and I said no way. Things chilled around the house for
us. That night I preformed cunilingus on her for an hour, I brought her to
four climaxes when she was finished and I attempted to go into her she pushed
me aside and said "not tonight".
The next day she brought home a pair of what she said were boots to go with my
slacks. These boots were made by Naturalizer, who only makes women’s shoes.
They had a two-inch stacked heel and were almost as shinny as patent leather.
These were women’s shoes. I pretended not to notice and tried them on with my
Italian slacks. The boots were a little tight so she loaned me some knee high
stockings to wear, saying, "who will notice?" I noticed and felt like a fool
in these girls boots, girls pants carrying this little purse that was supposed
to be a "man’s bag". It may have been but I wasn’t the kind of man who carried
a purse.
Sex got back on track, well almost back on track I was bringing her off nearly
every night but not having intercourse that often. She had taken to
masturbating me instead of letting me in her.

Then one night she stopped even that and had me do it myself while she
watched. I was eating her every night, jacking myself off while she watched
about three nights and she would jack me off maybe once a week. The other
nights I got nothing, intercourse was maybe a monthly thing now.
She had bought me more pants and shoes. The pants she bought were even tighter
in the fanny than the first ones were. The shoes were clearly women’s oxfords
and loafers one pair had at least a two and a half inch heel and she even got
me a pair of penny loafers in red. She wanted me to wear the red shoes with
some faded denim jeans that had red stitching in the seams and the flowers on
each back pocket. I refused and for that refusal I was denied even my
masturbation rights for three weeks. When I caved in and accepted the
"invitation" to "wear my pretty jeans and matching shoes" I was awarded
masturbation with her soft hands. But she added "nicer underwear (panties) to
my list of things I had to wear. She became upset with the hair on my feet
showing through my knee-highs. She said, "since you insist on wearing women’s
hose you will have to respect real women enough to shave your hairy legs". I
tried to tell her that it was her idea to have me wearing the stockings she
just said "whatever, shave anyway". I knew that I had best shave my legs if I
ever hoped to get my masturbation fix from her.
She started buying me tee shirts. She called them European style tee shirts,
but I thought they were women’s tops. They were all in pastels and rib knits
they looked pretty feminine to me. She was going out about twice a week with
"her guys" who ever it happened to be would pick her up at the house and I
would be expected to answer the door, fix them a drink or offer refreshments.
I always got a looking over by the guy of the day. She always managed to
humiliate me a little in front of him before they left. She would do things
like order me to kneel and dust off imaginary dust from her shoe, once I had
to bend down and tie the shoe of one of her dates. While I was down there she
said "look at his shoes, they look so much more manly than the little shoes
you wear. And look how much larger his foot is than yours, you know what they
say about a man’s foot size, don’t you?" One date brought over his laundry for
me to wash and dry. When she got home with him and I presented him with his
folded clothes she picked up a pair of his underpants and said to him "these
are nothing like what the boy wears, his are all silky like ladies panties. Oh
well if he enjoys them" and she just let it trail off. I was crimson with
embarrassment. She was all but calling me a sissy and in front of the man she
had just gone out with.
The day we went shopping just about ended the marriage, but I couldn’t stay
mad and gave in to her. We were in the shoe section of a major department
store. She was looking at a pair of navy blue pumps with a small open toe when
the sales clerk walked up and said "may I help you?" My wife said, "My husband
here needs navy pumps." Then she asked me what size are you in a woman’s shoe
dear?" "About a 10, isn’t it?" The clerk chimes in with "Oh I am sure we can
fit her, we carry a full size range". Many of our customers who crossdress
find their sizes here" What the hell "her"" crossdressers". Who was this
little twit talking about? Then she says "we carry this shoe in a black
patent, would you like to see those?" My dear wife says "yes let’s see how she
looks in the navy and these too". She picked up a low-heeled black pump. " For
the office?" the clerk said with a smile. I was about to die when my wife
turned to me and said, " you know dear, I may start sleeping with one of my
boys". So I molded women’s shoes in the largest department store in town while
my wife and a clerk young enough to be my daughter discussed my shoe wardrobe.
It was almost worth the humiliation for the sex I was rewarded with.
The nice nice changed with the "outfit" the outfit consisted of a short black
dress that would be worn with the low heeled black pumps I had tried on in the
store. I would wear off black panty hose and a white tea apron, light makeup
and a feminized hairstyle. She had decided it would look nice when her
boyfriends were waiting for her. And it would make me "less masculine" and
they would feel better about taking out my wife. She said, "they are sensitive
to your feelings you know?" They know how humiliating it must be to a husband
when a wife goes out with men." She didn’t even say "other" men, I was, I
guess not a man anymore.
After the black dress was introduced into my life I knew that it would be only
a matter of time until other dresses were added. My thoughts on this proved
correct. With her perfect logic she decided that I would need bras and slips
for my clothes to hang correctly. Knowing her as I did I knew that they would
hang correctly or I would wait till hell froze over for my now much needed
masturbation.
My disgusting habit as she called it was now under control. She had found a
small thing she called a special gaff. It was a small triangle of smooth pink
leather. My penis was pulled between my legs and my testicles were pushed up.
A small pink leather strap went around my waist and hooked to the triangle,
called a codpiece. A small pad lock kept it all together, she kept the key.
She explained it all by saying "you will have a much nicer panty line, and it
will keep you all ready and randy for me"; she said all this with a big smile
on her face. Then she had me put on "a nice dress, we are having company" I
was expected to serve.
Some months later I stood in line at the Motor Vehicle Department, my wife
stood at my side smiling. I passed the paper work across the counter top to
the smiling young woman. "There you go Ma’am. And congratulations on your new
identity." "Well dear you have ascended to the ranks of womanhood, feel good?"
I looked down blushing slightly at the red toenails peeking out from my black
sandals. "Don’t worry honey this is the way I always pictured you"

THE END THE END