13 March 2013

Missy

By: Rachael Free

I was sitting in front of my computer writing down all the things I did today in
my journal. It is my daily duty to make sure I report everything so that my wife
can read it in the morning. She allows me this time to myself while she lay's in
bed watching a hot porno movie or whatever on the tube. Of course I still have
to undress and get ready for bed myself when I finish my entry.

There. I made sure I captured all the things I did today. The computer powers
down while I stand up and unzip my dress, letting it slip down my body making
sure to hang it up so it doesn't wrinkle. The slip is next and I place it in a
small pink satin lined basket next to my vanity table. I take a seat at the
vanity and unclip my garter tabs, slipping the silky stockings off my smooth
hairless legs. Putting them in the small basket I slip off my silky panties and
also put them in the basket too. The garter belt slides down my silky legs and
into the basket too. My hands reach behind me as I unhook the bra, letting the
bra straps slide down my soft shoulders allowing my large 42D breasts feel the
cool air in the room making my nipples immediately get hard. I put the bra in
the small basket too as I slip a silky short robe over my nude body. My lingerie
is all together so I can hand wash it tomorrow morning along with my wife's
things too. It's my morning duty.

Looking in the mirror I see a woman with perfect makeup staring back. Taking
makeup remover I gently dab a cotton ball and wipe my eyes, cleaning the shadow,
eye liner, and mascara away. A soft foamy sponge with cold cream removes the
rest of the makeup on my face as I gently wipe off the excess cream with a
tissue. With my makeup removed, I dab on night time moisturizer and softly
massage it into my face. Some under eye nighttime eye repair to help keep
wrinkles in check and lip cream to minimize lines and keep my lips kissibly soft
and I'm about ready for bed. My pierced earrings slip off and I put them into my
jewelry box along with the matching necklace and bracelet. The rings slide off
my thin fingers and into the jewelry box too. Moisturizing cream is then rubbed
all over my arms and legs to make sure my skin remains soft and creamy. My wife
likes me this way.

I stand up and take the robe off picking out a long, silver satin gown from my
drawer. It slides down my silky body fitting my body perfectly and making my
tits feel wonderful. I don a satin night bonnet to protect my new perm. There.
I'm all ready for bed. Just a minute to tinkle, sitting down on the toilet of
course, and it's bed time. Just one last entry before I go to bed.

I hope my wife is sleeping. I really hate it when she looks at me and laughs. I
did all this for her. It hurts when she laughs at me and calls me a pussy or
faggot or ladyboy or shithead or pantywaist or fem boy. You get the message.
Good, she's asleep. After turning off the TV and light, I slip under the covers
and contemplate how I ever got in this situation before I drift off to sleep.



Marsha and I were married four years ago after a short year of courting. We were
happy and the sex was phenomenal. My name is Richard and I'm 41 years old.
Marsha is five years younger. We decided not to have any kids and Marsha
insisted that I get a vasectomy immediately so she wouldn't get pregnant. Off to
the doctor a week after the marriage to render my testicles useless so I
couldn't impregnate her. There was no arguing with her. It was a condition she
insisted on before she would agree to marry me.

After I recovered she was like a woman in heat every day making me fuck her all
over the house, in all sorts of positions, some times three times a day. Of
course it was fun but boy did it ever drain me. She knew I was shooting blanks
so she stopped using her birth control pills. She had over a years supply in her
bathroom drawer. No need for these things anymore.

Life went on as usual and Marsha seemed to get bored with our lovemaking,
reducing our encounters to once a week and then down to once a month when she
wanted. I worked hard during the day and quite honestly, appreciated not having
to perform and get a good nights sleep. That was when her mood changed and she
became almost demanding of how I lived my life, how I would dress, assigned
chores I would do weekly and basically took charge of the house. Wanting to keep
her happy I complied with all her requests and life just went on.

Marsha had a good job for a pharmaceutical company and was the number one
producer. Her salary was twice a big as mine. When she made a big sale, she
would treat us to a weekend in a resort hotel where she would have us bring
costumes and do a lot of role playing games in our suite. I kind of looked
forward to these get away's. She would have us spend time at a spa and get
manicures and pedicures, massages, facials, and basically the works. Being
pampered was fun. The girly stuff like pedicures and manicures were a little
feminine but she insisted saying all sorts of men do it. I guess it was OK. I
still couldn't get used to the frosted polish they would put on my nails. She
said it was only nail hardener and told me to forget about it.

It was after our second anniversary when Marsha told me she wanted me to be more
"Metrosexual". Metrosexual? What in the world was that? She said she liked the
look of the men in her company that claimed they were metrosexual. I just went
along with her whim while she would buy me new colorful clothes, satin boxers
instead of briefs, sating pajamas, new aftershaves that almost smelled like
woman's perfume, pants without pockets, shoes with a bigger heel, and would
schedule my haircuts at a local spa along with facials and manicures every
month. I was a little apprehensive at first but after a few months got more
relaxed with my new look. She also had me grow my hair longer saying it was what
all the guys were doing right now. I even got a loose perm so that my hair would
stay in shape better. I felt ridiculous getting my first perm but after a few
times it was like brushing my teeth.

Marsha felt I needed to go on a diet. My waist was getting bigger sitting at a
desk all day. She made me take all sorts of pills in the morning and one pink
one at night. She said they were just supplements and vitamins. I never argued
as she would make me pack just a salad for lunch with a diet drink. In less than
a month I had lost over 25 pounds. She said I was on a low carb diet and I would
feel a lot better. Even though I was loosing weight my flabby chest didn't seem
to get smaller. In fact my nipples would rub against my cotton shirt and I'd
have to itch and rub them a lot throughout the day. My waist did get smaller but
my pants seemed tighter in the hips. She noticed my dilemma and bought me some
new pants without pockets. They were a little stretchy making my bottom feel
better and not as tight. Wearing boxers were a problem though and she bought me
some mens nylon briefs. They did feel better and fit better in my new pants too.
The only problem was that you could see the outline of the briefs through the
pants. She told me I was just being silly and forget about it. Oh well. If she
didn't care why should I?

I was getting some strange looks at work as my wardrobe changed, my hair got
longer and styled and how thin I was getting as I continued to diet. I had to
carry a small bag to hold my wallet, keys and change without having pockets
either. It was like a small computer bag so I really didn't think anything odd
about it. All sorts of guys carried computer bags. Mine was smaller though. Oh
well.



After another six months I needed even larger pants because my hips seemed to be
getting bigger. My nipples were really sore now, not just itched and seemed
puffy. Marsha just told me I was reacting to the new supplements and things
would calm down soon. I believed her. What else could I do?

My boss offered the staff an opportunity to move our offices to our home. They
had decided to cut down on operating costs and being a virtual operation
(Computer IT work) it seemed a great idea to me. We would have weekly video
conference for an hour on Friday's and just keep in tough through the phone and
email. I had long term customers and very stable accounts. Working from home
would allow me to dress more comfortably too instead of wearing tight business
clothes.

I moved all my files, computer and books into my office at home. The first week
was really great working in my shorts and tee shirt. I found wearing a soft
cotton tee shirt helped with my nipple soreness and the shorts were much better
than the tight pants. I found I could do twice as much work in less time without
all the distractions of coworkers, bosses and just the normal office stuff.
Marsha realized this when she would call and I was watching TV in the afternoon
telling her I had done all my work already. That wasn't a good idea. She began
to assign me chores to do and expected them done by the time she got home. The
first duties were to make the bed every day, Wipe the kitchen counters daily,
vacuum twice a week, do the laundry when it was full, dust the furniture twice a
week and finally wash her lingerie from the day before. These weren't that bad.
She showed me how she wanted her lingerie washed and hung to dry and I
religiously followed her orders. Even with these chores I still had a lot of
time to kill every day. Work was easy and getting up early helped get a lot done
before the phone calls started.

Our weekly conference calls seemed to die off quickly too and soon were totally
eliminated. I felt like I was running my own business now and didn't have to
report to anyone.

Marsha would tell me about sub prime loans and a lot of financial mumbo jumbo I
really didn't understand. She was worried about the economy but I had strong
customers that would keep me on board forever, or so I thought. My company was
still struggling and decided to sell to one of it's competitors. Well it wasn't
a good merger and the new company decided to condense it's staff and assign
accounts to the people already in the corporate offices meaning the people in
the filed were to be let go.

After telling Marsha about the cut back, I scheduled a meeting the following day
with the new client services manager. That day I went through all my office
clothes and my old suits and realized none of them fit me, even the ones Marsha
had bought for me. I had trouble getting them up over my ass. My shirts seemed
tight in the chest too. I was skinnier and my clothes just hung on my body. I
showed Marsha and she laughed saying I was a softy now and she thought a minute
saying that I would probably fit into one of her dress pant suits. She insisted
no one would know.



She had me strip down to my nylon panties, put on my nylon socks and slip into
her pants. They seemed to fit perfectly although a little on the long side. They
also didn't have a zipper in the front but sipped up the back. The waist
buttoned up without a problem and my ass felt comfortable too. She then had me
put on one of her soft, stretchy cotton blouses cut sort of like a man's dress
shirt but the buttons were on the wrong side and it was fitted with the sides
pulled in and stitched in the front. She told me with a tie it would look just
like a guy's shirt.



The front had a billow where her tits would be but she pinned the back
stretching it behind me flattening out the front. My nipples really hurt from
the rubbing so she had me take it off and put on one of her camisoles. It was
like a tank top and helped soothe my sore nipples. The shirt felt much better
and after I put on a tie and the jacket, I looked passable I guess although the
jacket was a little short and when I buttoned it up I could tell it was also
fitted giving me a slender waist. I was now the same size as her. I used to be
45 pounds heavier and larger than Marsha but now was the same size. Wow. That
diet really worked.

In my old socks and work shoes, the pants were a little long. Marsha thought a
second. Hemming them up would take too long so she rummaged through her closet
and pulled out a pair of 2 inch black heels. I just looked at her dumbfounded
and she told me to sit on the bed while she tried slipping them on my feet
finding the socks to be too thick. She had me take my socks off and gave me a
pair of her black knee high nylons. I pulled them up my legs and she slipped the
heels back on, fastening the little strap on top. "There, that will work." She
had me stand up and it did raise the cuffs off the floor. I felt silly but she
told me that she wouldn't allow me to ruin her clothes. "You can't even tell
they are heels silly. See. The cuff covers the strap and they look like men's
shoes." I looked down and they kinda looked like men's loafers and the cuffs did
cover the top and the small strap. I guess it would be all right.



My meeting was scheduled for 10 AM so I made sure I got cleaned up, shaved, and
fixed my hair. I put on the nylons, my nylon briefs and Marsha's suit. I buckled
the heels to my feet and stood up. Walking wasn't a problem. They were only 2
1/2 inch heels although I found I had to take shorter steps to keep the straps
hidden. It took me some time remembering how to tie a tie but I finally got it
tied and in place. I put on some aftershave and looked at myself in the mirror.
I guess it would work. I didn't have any other choice at the moment.

Of course this suit had no pants pockets either. I grabbed my small computer bag
and put my wallet, keys and loose change in along with the office key. After
taking a deep breath I got in my car and drove to the office. Pulling into the
parking lot I saw two of my old friends leaving with their heads down. I guess
they got the boot. I got out of the car, made sure everything was in place and
walked into the office. I got some stares from some of the people that knew me
but I really didn't care. My hair had grown more and I did look totally
different with a wavy full head of longer hair.

I walked up to personnel and told to have a seat. There were others waiting and
if I sat, they would see my heels and hose. I just stood and waited. It took
about 20 minutes and I was asked to come in. I sat across from the HR director
and her assistant while I listened to the company bull about downsizing,
reorganizing and staff cuts. I tried interrupting but she said she had to finish
and just kept on talking. When she finally stopped talking I was handed a packet
of papers and we stood up with her reaching out to shake my hand. It happened so
quickly I really missed when I was fired but I now had no job. I folded the
papers and slipped them into my small computer bas. My wallet and keys fell out
while the assistant picked them off the floor. I looked down and my cuffs were
to the side giving her total view of my heels from the side. She stood up with a
smile and winked at me while I put them back in the bag. The director left and
the girl escorted me to the door. "Take care honey and good luck. By the way, I
love your heels dear. I love the rest of your cute outfit too. With a little
makeup, you would look darling." I was aghast. She could tell I was wearing all
of Marsha's things.

I was so flustered I sped home and ran inside. Putting my head in my hands I
began to cry. Here I was wearing Masha's clothes, just got fired and was totally
humiliated by a young girl knowing I was wearing women's clothes. I cried and
cried and cried until I was all cried out.

It was almost time for Marsha to get home and I was still sitting in the chair
just worrying about the future. Marsha came in and wanted to know what happened.
I stood up and hugged her breaking down again and sobbing on her shoulder.

"There, there dear. Everything will work out. You'll see. Hey, let me clean you
up a bit and we'll go out for dinner. OK? I'm sure you will feel better."

I nodded as she guided me to our bedroom and had me take off the jacket. "MMM I
have an idea." Marsha rummaged through the closet and came out with a short
skirt. Here, this matches the outfit. Take off your pants dear. I was in shock.
A skirt. No way. I tried to object but she yelled out. "Get out of those pants
right now." I undid the button and zipped down the back stepping out of them.
"Take off that tie too." I undid the tie and she opened the top three buttons
showing the top of the lacy camisole. She opened a drawer and pulled out a tan
pair of pantyhose. "Here, put these on. Knee highs won't do with this skirt."
The heels came off and I removed the knee highs. I rolled up the hose just like
I saw Marsha do many times and inserted my foot pulling them up one leg. The
other foot slipped in and I pulled the hose up and around my waist. "Very good
dear. Now step in to the skirt." As I held her shoulder and stepped in the lined
skirt while Marsha pulled it up around my waist. She buttoned the top and zipped
up the side zipper. "There, much better. The pants just wouldn't do." The skirt
was very short and tight at the bottom. She said it was a pencil skirt, whatever
that meant.

Marsha undid the pinned back of the blouse and hummed again. "This won't do.
Take off the blouse and camisole." I unbuttoned the blouse, took it off and
slipped the camisole over my head. My hard nipples and swollen chest was totally
exposed and Marsha looked at me with a smile. "Now aren't those little titties
pretty." Instinctively I put my hands up and cupped my breasts to hide them from
her. "Now, now dear. Don't be shy." She rummaged through another drawer and took
out a lacy bra. "I think this should work." She wrapped it around my chest,
hooking the back and then helped me put my arms through the straps, adjusting
them so it fit snugly against my chest. I looked down and saw the pretty bra,
crumpled with nothing to fill it out. This was getting really weird now. I tried
to object but Marsha jumped in, "It's just like one of our role playing sessions
dear. I know you like it when I dress you as a girl. Figuring you were almost
there today wearing my suit, why not complete the picture." I was getting a
little nervous now. She then put some rubbery things in the bra cups and I
looked in the mirror. I had tits. She put some breast forms in the cups and I
have tits. "Here, quit gawking and put your camisole back on." I slipped the
camisole over my head and over my new tits. It fit perfect. She then went to the
closet and came back with a pretty white chiffon blouse with billowy sleeves.
"Here. This is much better than that boring old work blouse, and prettier too."
She helped me and buttoned up the front leaving the top few buttons undone to
show off my breasts.

It seemed like hours but the transformation was only ten minutes. Here I was in
her pantyhose, skirt, bra, camisole and blouse. I could feel the wind from the
window under my skirt tickling my legs. "OK sear, sit down. I sat on the vanity
chair and she went to work on my hair. After about ten more minutes she said she
was done. She used a curling iron, clips and a lot of hairspray.



She told me not to look yet. She then used a small sponge and spread some liquid
over my face and neck and then used a soft brush with pink powder on my cheeks.
"Now just sit still while I clean up your eyebrows dear." I sat still while she
began to use tweezers and pluck hairs. Ouch that hurt. Ouch. She finally
finished. Thank goodness. That really hurt.

She had me close my eyes while I felt a pencil outline my eyes and then she
brushed on something on my upper eyelids. She worked on my eyelids for some time
and she then used a brush and I felt her brush my eyelashes. "Keep your eyes
closed dear and tilt your head up. I tilted my head back and felt her outline my
lips with another pencil and then felt her rub something over my lips. Oh shit,
lipstick. She had me part my lips and press them down on a tissue and then
reapplied the lipstick. "There, that will help make it last longer dear."

Marsha then took some perfume and sprayed my neck. "This is my favorite dear. I
hope you like it." Like it. Hell no. She then put some dangly earring on me,
fastened a necklace around my neck, and clipped a bracelet on my wrist. "Voila.
I believe we're done. No wait, heels. She went to the closet and came back with
some shoes. Not shoes, 5 inch stiletto heels. "Give me one of your feet." I
pointed my foot and she slipped my foot into the black pointy heels.



"Now the other one dear." I could tell the heel was super high and she told me
to open my eyes. I looked in the vanity mirror and staring back at me was a very
pretty woman totally made up. She had all the curves and looked like a doll. My
hair was all teased and styled. My eyebrows were super thin and arched. I
couldn't believe my eyes. The only problem was, it was me.

"OK, stand up dear." She took my hand and helped me stand. "Now, take short
steps placing one foot in front of the other or else you will fall. OK. Let's
try now." I put one foot ahead of me and wobbled. "Just get your balance dear."
I took another step focusing on where my foot was placed and balancing myself.
"You have to walk on you're the balls of your feet in heels dear, not the heel
itself. It's just used to balance your foot. All your weight should be on the
balls and toes. Let's walk down the hall. You'll get the hang of it quickly."
She held my hand as we walked slowly down the hall. I had no choice but wiggle
my fat ass too taking the short steps. I could feel my chest and the tightness
of the bra with the forms. I made it to the living room and she sat on the couch
telling me to keep walking around the room until I feel more comfortable. Marsha
sat down with a glass of wine while I strutted around the room, or minced,
wiggling my fat ass. She laughed a few times and told me to keep walking. After
an hour I did get the hang of balancing on my feet and walking on my balls and
toes. She finally told me I could stop and sit and I dropped into a chair.
"That's not how a lady sits dear. Stand up. I stood up and she told me to use my
hand and smooth out my skirt under me carefully lowering myself to the seat with
my back straight and posture erect making sure I stuck out my tits. I did as she
asked and guess what? I had to sit and stand the next hour. This was really
tough.

Marsha told me to relax while she got ready. When she came out of the room she
had removed her makeup, had on a pair of old jeans, a white tee shirt and one of
my old plaid shirts. She was even wearing an old pair of my sneakers. She
moussed down her hair too. If you didn't know you could think she was a guy.
"Hey chicky, time to go out." Go out? I couldn't go out like this. She threw a
purse at me and I looked in it. Inside was lipstick, eye shadow, power, mascara,
perfume and even a condom and tampon. "It's everything you'll need tonight dear.
Let's go." She took my hand and pulled me out the door. I almost fell we were
walking so fast. She opened the side door of the car and I sat and slid in the
car while she closed the door. She hopped in the driver's side, started the
engine and pulled out of the driveway. I had no idea where we were going.

We drove to a seedy part of town. Marsha was laughing the whole trip telling me
what a pussy I was and how femmy I looked. I thought she would be nicer to me
but instead was treating me like some whore. We pulled into a lot behind a bar
named "Trixies". I had heard about this place. It was a lesbian bar. I saw two
girls making out near the door and a few others in cars. Marsha stopped the car
and opened my door taking my hand. Maybe she'll be nicer to me now. Her arm went
around my waist as she led me into the bar. Inside was dark and loud and there
were all sorts of girls everywhere, even strippers on tables and a stage totally
nude. Marsha led me to a table and had me sit. A pretty girl walked up to her
and Marsha grabbed her and locked lips with this girl, rubbing her ass and dry
humping her while I watched. This was my Marsha getting it on with another girl
and here I was in total drag just watching.

Marsha broke the kiss and swatted the girls ass while she plopped down next to
me. "Hey bitch, like what you saw? I know it's a shock but this is the real me
and I like the real you. Just an FYI. Your big ass and titties aren't a mistake.
You've been pumped with my birth control pills now for over six months. You
never even had a clue. With you at home feminizing you was even easier. I like
your progress. I'm sure you'll love having your own huge tits here soon." I
heard her and was in total shock. Me? On female hormones? What the fuck. I was
too shocked to even answer. "OK here's the deal Missy. Tonight you will enjoy
the pleasure of lesbian sex. You will only watch though until you become more
feminine to enjoy it yourself. Time for me to munch on a few carpets. Come on
with me." Marsha had a Bud in her hand as she pulled me to a back room. She sat
me on a chair in a room with a round bed, all sorts of lesbian porno magazines
around and a TV playing lesbian porn. This was unbelievable.

I sat quietly as Marsha took one girl after another, stripped them, ate them
out, made out with them, used all sorts of toys on them and them had them eat
her out while she enjoyed one orgasm after another. I wasn't allowed to move or
even pleasure myself. Some of these chicks were goth's, some were hard biker
chicks and some truly girly/girly. I enjoyed when there were three of them with
dildos in their asses and pussies. I would love to be part of that.

Marsha had enough and had me follow her to the bar. She was a hit with most of
the girls at the bar and had me on display while she laughed at me and told
everyone what a faggot her husband was dressed as a whore. I was totally
humiliated when they wanted to see my real tits. Marsha had me unbutton my
blouse, lower my bra and show them my hard nipples and swollen breasts. All the
girls got a kick out of Marsha's fem husband.

Marsha pulled me out of the bar and we headed home. She pulled in the driveway
and I had to get out myself and go into the house finding Marsha already in bed
in my tee shirt and old boxers. I proceeded to undress and hang everything up,
take off my bra and pantyhose dropping them on the floor, removing my makeup
with soap and water but leaving a lot of dark mascara and eyeliner on my eyes
and putting on my last tee shirt before I got into bed. I never wanted to ever
go through another day like this. This was the worst day of my life.

I woke up with Marsha already out of the bed. Where was she? I got up and looked
in the mirror. I was still a mess. After rummaging through Marsha's cosmetics I
found makeup remover and cleaned up my face. There. I looked like a man again. I
put on a pair of underwear, nylon of course, stretch shorts to fit over my ass
and hips, and a polo shirt I made my way to the kitchen for some coffee. All I
wanted to do was forget about yesterday and more importantly forget about last
night and how Marsha acted. I still couldn't believe she fucked all those girls
right in front of me.

I was relaxing enjoying my coffee when I heard our car in the driveway. Marsha
walked in with a bunch of bags. She looked wonderful in a summery yellow halter
dress, all made up and as beautiful as ever.

"OK Missy, now that I've spilled the beans about you, hormones and becoming a
girl I did some shopping for you. I'm sure you can't wait to see what I have for
you and most importantly how pretty you will look." I didn't want to become a
girl. This was all wrong. "I'll bet I really surprised you last night too
sucking on nipples, savoring a sweet pussy and making out with all sorts of
girls. You see, I've been doing this for the last few years while you've just
turned your back. All those nights I told you I was out at Bunko. Well forget
Bunko. Hello pussy."

I knew she wasn't at Bunko but I had no idea she was sucking other girl's
pussies or getting off herself. Maybe that's why our own love making slowed down
lately.

"Missy. I want you to see what's in the bags. Hey. I like the name Missy. That's
it, you're now Missy." I just sat there quiet as Marsha went on. "I got you some
bras, panties, hose, slips, dresses and of course some high heels. I wouldn't
let my sexy dear go without sexy heels now would I?" I just sat there numb. "Oh,
and of course, I had to get some makeup and jewelry too for my pretty girl. I
don't want my pretty girl going out without her makeup and jewelry."

I tried to interrupt and say I didn't want this but Marsha took charge and
sushed me many times. "Sush Missy, I am not done," she kept saying. "You will
like what I have done and that's final. Got it?" I could only nod I felt so
defeated.



The months passed and of course my boobs got larger, my ass finally stopped
getting bigger and my nipples, oh my wonderful nipples, were always hard and
erect. They were almost and inch long. I felt like a freak with these large
things on my body.

Marsha realized that I was a great housekeeper and she assigned all sorts of
domestic duties I had to perform daily. The first was that every night when we
took off our frilly lingerie that is be kept in a satin lined basket and hand
washed the next morning. That's why I am so careful to put my things in the
basket or else I get yelled at the next morning if I forget. Oh I do find myself
forgetting things too. Marsha has me listen to tapes throughout the day and I
find myself zoning out now and then and forgetting some detailed things about
computers and stuff. I feel like I'm almost losing my technical knowledge as
well as normal everyday knowledge. Could that be possible? Duh!

Oh shit, it's almost 6 PM and Marsha will be home. I have a casserole in the
oven and have prepared a salad, rolls, butter and um, I forgot the next thing.
Oh well. Maybe she won't know what it is. I hope so. I hate it when she doesn't
like what I prepare for her.

Marsha came in and she loved the dinner. I did remember the last thing.
Broccoli. How could I forget Broccoli? I'm such a ditz I guess.

Now that I was out of work Marsha made sure I did a thorough job on the house.
She bought me a plain maid dress that she wanted me to wear when I clean the
house. I had no other commitments so I did as she suggested and put on my
panties, pantyhose, bra and maid uniform every morning. I pull my hair back into
a high ponytail and put on some makeup including very deep red lipstick every
day. I make sure I followed her cleaning regimen every day so she is pleased
when she came home. I am then be rewarded with some type of male entertainment
like watching a football game, or soccer game or even tennis match. It's better
than watching the Housewive's of whatever or the HGTV channel or even porno
DVD's.

As the months pass I take my estrogen pills religiously, become more feminine in
my actions and looks and more importantly realize my tits are becoming very
large. I am developing some very feminine curves too. Marsha would laugh at me
calling me a fat cow or whore. I dismiss everything while I serve her dinner
very night, draw her bath, bathe her, lick her pussy until she climaxes EVERY
night and then wash her musky scented lingerie every morning to be put back in
her drawer the next day. I am basically her maid. Me, a man, reduced to a simple
maid.



This finally brings me back to the beginning of my story. Yes. I am totally
committed to my wife Marsha but she's really not my wife any more. She filed for
a divorce a year ago and I signed realizing I had no other choice but divorce
her. She is now my mistress and owner. I am proud that I now have 42D breasts
with huge areola and very hard nipples. My waist is now down to 23 inches and my
ass and hips are 36 inches. My life has totally changed and I am devoted to my
sole mate, my mistress and my lover Marsha. My dick can still get hard even
though I'm not allowed to ever show Marsha. Marsha has her own group of friends,
male of course, that please her whenever she wants. I get to lick her wet pussy
when she gets home draining her of all the cum inside while I get her off before
she goes to sleep. She is so full sometimes that I have trouble swallowing all
the cum. I hope she had a good time at least.

OK, here I sit at my computer, dressed to the nines. My nipples are so, so hard
I want them to be sucked or fondled so I can get off. Marsha is asleep so I
won't be called names or be treated like a whore. Even with my makeup removed I
still look like a woman. My jaw has been narrowed and I have no more facial
hair. I'm totally smooth and hairless everywhere. I have thin eyebrows, a shaved
Adam's apple, high cheek bones, and have had an eye lift to accentuate my blue
eyes, and of course huge, 42D tits that I can't hide. Basically I am a woman now
but with some extra bits. Oh, I can't have a baby either. Technology hasn't come
this far yet but I'm sure if Marsha ever got pregnant, I would be the nanny and
nurse the dear. Just the thought of that gets me excited.

There, my daily journal is complete and I can get ready to go to sleep. I wonder
what tomorrow will bring???????