Bridal Workout

By: Rosie

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Well, not just my chest, but it seems that my whole body is pulsating with the rhythm of my heart. Even though my eyes have long accustomed to the dimly lit anteroom, I don’t even notice Erin beside me anymore. My eyes, my nerves, my mind are all fixed on the door and the moment that Martha will pull it open, starting the great entrance. I don’t even mind wearing Erin’s clothes anymore, all I want to do is to walk in and show myself. Show my progress.

Suddenly, it happens. The door cracks open and before I know it, I am walking, blinded by the bright light, into the room. There are gasps of amazement and I have to do my best fighting the urge to flex my muscles right here and now. But Martha, who I suddenly regard once again as my future mother-in-law, not just my personal trainer, was very clear about that. As my eyes are starting to recognize the silhouettes of the people in the room, I walk as I’ve been instructed, all the way to the end of the room, turn around  and walk back to the center of the room, where Erin has stopped, to face the silhouettes. It is indeed a select audience, as Martha has promised, there’s only my mother and my sister Karen. Well, and Erin’s sister Stephanie, but she sees me regularly, so he doesn’t really count. Erin and I stand side by side for a minute, then I take off my blazer to reveal the muscles on my arm.

It’s more than a wee pang of pride that I feel as I watch Roger’s mother and sister stare at him in amazement. My future son-in-law is standing before them half the size than he was before I took him in my weight loss program. He is wearing a pair of my daughter’s old black dress pants, and a her matching tailored blazer that makes his hips flare out below his now waspishly thin waist. There is no way Erin could put it on anymore, but it fits Roger’s thin arms quite snugly. When Roger finally takes it off, there is another gasp of amazement as he reveals his black satin halter top that tautens invitingly over his now flat belly with every breath he takes, but more importantly, it displays his thin, though shapely arms. There is definitely tone and shape to his muscles, all joints are beautifully rounded, but the muscles, just like the skin that enwraps them, are deliciously soft. Even as I look at him, I’m having a hard time believing that I have managed to turn the shapeless fat fuck he once was into this lithe, slim creature.

Behind him, Erin is also sleeveless in her red satin dress. Even though her fiancé is standing right in front of her, she is fully visible behind his thin silhouette which, rather than conceals, only emphasizes her powerful figure. Erin steps forward and hugs Roger from behind, displaying the bulging muscles on her arms and I feel another not-so-wee pang of pride to see my daughter all developed like that. Of course, she lacks the hourglass figure of the man she is about to marry, but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed by a wide, patent black belt and a full skirt that flares out at her hips.

It was Erin that wanted to lose weight in the first place, and I was only too happy to help her. Of course I wanted my daughter to feel beautiful on her big day, and I wanted her to be healthy, but beside that, as a co-owner of one of the busiest gym’s in town, and a fitness instructor, it was bad publicity for my daughter to go about neglected like that.

I figured that I could use her slimming down to lure more women into my gym, but it soon turned out that Erin wouldn’t give me the before and after pictures I was hoping for. Just like me, she got the weight fever soon enough and was all about gaining weight, rather than losing it. She did take off a lot of her body fat, mind you, though it has been evident that that wasn’t her primary goal. Roger, on the other hand, was a completely different story. I soon found out that he was pliable enough that I could get him not only to do the exercises I wanted, but also follow a strict diet and take any supplement I wanted him to without a question. Once I started feeding him doses of estrogen he became even more trustful of my decisions. As his tearful outbursts of emotions started, he agreed that it would make more sense to carry out his training in the privacy of my own working out space in the basement of my house, rather than in full view of everybody in the gym. Shortly thereafter, Roger moved in with me, and was spending his days doing my housework and working on what he believed was a high intensity body building regime. When he lost enough fat that traces of hardly existent muscles began appearing under his skin, I managed to convince him that he was making great progress, just I had managed to convince him that the shiny leotards I had him wear were regular men’s gym clothes. When the day that he was ready to be shown to the world finally came, he didn’t think it strange that Stephanie put his hair up in rollers until it was a mass of tight, jet black curls, that she filed his nails and covered them with a clear varnish, nor that she plucked his eyebrows into thin arches. When I gave him Erin’s old clothes to wear he trustingly accepted the explanation that I had realized that none of his old clothes fit him too late to get him new ones in time for the show.

We stand together like that, with Erin’s arms around me, for a minute, then my mother gets off her chair and I feel Erin step back.

“My, you’ve grown,” she says to me.

“Actually, mom,” I smile awkwardly, “I’m wearing high heels.”

I pull the left leg of my pants to reveal my black, four inch heeled pump. Martha gave me these shoes so that they would bring out the muscles on my thighs and calves, and also because we realized too late that my pants were a bit too long.

“It wasn’t your height I was talking about,” mom says, then drops her eyes to my chest.

I feel a surge of pride and I push my chest forward.

“Oh, God,” she breaths, “Are they real?”

Before I can answer, her hand is on my pecs.

I can’t help it, I know Martha will be mad at me, but I simply have to do it. Just like Martha has trained me to do for dozens of times, I pump my arms in toward the center of my chest, then I bring my shoulders in toward the center of my chest. I should have done a quick exercise or two before, to get the blood flowing, but as it is, all I can do is to clench my hands together, hoping to flex my pecs as much as I can.

Before I succeed to, my mother’s hand moves to my left triceps.

“So soft,” she whispers.

“Just give me a minute,” I say, fighting tears of shame. It’s not fair, not only I hadn’t done any pre-warm exercises, but she’s not even feeling the muscle group I’m flexing.

“I meant your skin,” she says, “It’s so soft.”

“Oh,” I say, “Well, I’m oiled up a bit.”

“I see,” she mutters, then her hand is back on my pectorals.

“Yes, yes,” Diane says, as she fondles her son’s budding breasts, “They’re definitely getting harder.”

Roger proudly juts his chest forward again, exposing his swollen nipples through the black satin.

“I’m glad to hear something does,” Erin mutters, just loud enough for me to hear her.

“Erin!” I hiss at her and she shrugs apologetically.

“Sorry,” she whispers back, but I can’t really blame her. The heavy hormone treatment does take its toll, I suppose.

“You guys said you had something for me,” Erin turns to Diane and Karen.

“About that…” Diane says, then turns to Karen.

“No, we don’t,” she says to Erin, “Sorry. I know we said we did, but it turns out we screwed up, so…”

“Oh,” Erin says, not hiding the disappointment in her voice.

“Oh dear,” Diane sighs.

“This is embarrassing,” she says, “We asked your mother for your measurements, because we wanted to have a wedding dress made for you. She gave us the measurements of both of you, and we mixed them up.”

“It was an honest mistake,” Karen says defensively.

“Karen!” Diane hisses at her.

“Well, it was,” she pouts.

“Anyhow,” Diane turns back to Erin and me, “We had the wedding dress made in Roger’s size, not yours. Never mind, we’ll take it back.”

“Hold on,” I say, “Let us see it, first.”

Karen pulls out the dress from a black garment bag and it’s Erin’s turn and mine to gasp in astonishment this time. It really is a wonderful gown.

“It would be such a shame if no one wore that dress,” I say.

“Well, there’s no way Erin can put it on,” Karen says.

“It’s not what I meant,” I say.

“I wonder…” Diane mutters and as if on cue, Stephanie takes the dress in one hand, grabs Roger with the other and leads him out of the room.

“Actually, Martha?” Diane says, “I really don’t think this is such a good idea…”

“Why not?” I say, looking her in the eyes.

“In fact,” she begins, then pauses as I lean closer towards her, “I think it’s time Roger moved back to my house…”

“That’s up to Roger, of course,” I say, “But let him try on the wedding gown first.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I take some pictures,” Stephanie says to Roger as she leads him back to the room, dressed in the bridal gown, “This will be good publicity for my beauty salon, and I don’t get to do too many bridal makeup jobs.”

Posing for Stephanie, Roger looks as if he’s floating on a cloud of white satin, chiffon and lace. Even with the full makeup, his face strangely doesn’t look much different than before. When Stephanie puts her camera down, he gives his mother an accusing glare.

“Oh, Roger,” Diane moans out loud, “I swear, this was honestly the furthest from our intentions.”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” I say to Diane, feeling her shiver as I place my palm on her nylon-clad knee, “I don’t think he was really that comfortable in Erin’s old pants before.”

“Actually, Martha,” Roger speaks out in his soft voice, “I would prefer to be back in Erin’s pants after all.”

I flash him a kind, but dismissive smile, then turn back to Diane.

“He does look lovely, though,” I say to her.

“Seriously, though,” he says again, “Stephanie promised me I wouldn’t have to wear this dress longer than just to see if it fits.”

Slowly, I turn to face him again, though I don’t take off my hand of Diane’s knee.

“And?” I say, “Does it fit?”

“To a T, mummy,” Stephanie says happily.

“Well then, I guess it’s best if you help him take it off,” I say, “But Roger, it really is time you stopped wearing Erin’s old pants.”

“Erin, honey?” I say, “Why don’t you take Karen and see if you can find a dress of yours that would fit Roger?”

With a quick nod of her head, Erin takes Karen by her hand and leads her out of the room, leaving me alone with Diane.

“Well,” I say, sliding my hand up her thigh, “Looks like you won’t have to take the dress back, after all.”

Whine With Dinner

by: Anonymous Writer
















Grant Wellsley and his wife Editha had been seated at their usual table

near the center of the elegant and expensive downtown New York

restaurant. They had ordered their drinks, selected their dinner and

were now relaxing. They had been out on the town and had been to the

early show of one of the top plays on Broadway. Now, it was dinner and

drinks to end the luxurious evening. The club owner entered the room to

talk to the maitre'd as a few other staff looked on. This establishment

had been Grant Wellsley's nearly nightly haunt for decades, usually for

drinks and sometimes for an elegant dinner and then conversation with

several other of the town's billionaire class and captains of industry.

But, Grant usually had a young lady on his arm while his wife Editha was

relegated to home, busy with her social calendar which consisted of

ladies clubs and get-togethers. Of course Grant would bring his wife to

the club but rarely. Tonight they came to dinner as a couple and were

now at their table enjoying the atmosphere. The only strange thing was

that Grant Wellsley hadn't been seen much lately. Matter of fact he

hadn't been in for dinner at "The Densmore Club" in over a year and a

half.



Of course stock markets ebb and flow, new opportunities come and go but Grant had been particularly hard hit on his latest business dealings. His once thirty billion dollar fortune had plummeted to less than two billion in only the past five years. He'd become more of a playboy than a businessman and once his actions threatened the family one-percent lifestyle his mother-in-law finally stepped in and made her decision. Not everyone knew that it was Editha and her mother who really controlled the Wellsley fortune, matter of fact, Grant's last name had been changed from Hawthorne to Wellsley when he and Editha were married thirty years earlier. This fact was kept quiet and life went on with all appearing normal. As Grant sipped his double scotch on the rocks Editha finished her Pink Lady and gestured the waiter. "I'd like another round of drinks and we'd like another table please. Something in a quiet booth, I'm feeling a draft young man," she said. Soon they were seated in a darker more secluded booth. Another round of drinks soon arrived at the table. The talk at the front of the establishment continued in earnest. The owner Sam Densmore chatted with his matre'd and his top waiter. "How long has it been Mr. Densmore? Mr. Wellsley hasn't been here in over a year and a half," the matre'd wondered aloud. "Did you notice the moustache and sideburns he's always had are gone. And what kind of glasses are those, women's glasses?" Sam returned. "His skin looks smoother. Has he had a face lift? And I can't believe he's started wearing earrings. And his hair. Once a grey salt and pepper he's now a blonde? His hair's the same length but now seems to have a bit of a wave to it. And, he must have lost a good thirty pounds," Sam finished as he wondered aloud. What nobody could realize was that female hormones could work wonders on the male figure and the male psyche. Grant's once masculine frame had vanished, his breasts had budded, his waist had slimmed and his hips had widened and rounded considerably. Editha was now the one in charge. Grant wasn't his powerful self as he had been. He was still a presence but now took his cue from his wife. "I guess his failings in business caused his wife to put her foot down. They're still billionaires though," Sam finished as the matre'd and head waiter looked on at the distant booth before getting back to serving the arriving diners. Everyone had seen Grant's standard evening tuxedo, the standard upscale attire he always wore on evenings out but they didn't look closely enough. For now, Grant was wearing a large size of woman's shoes! Low heeled black patent leather slip on pumps that had a little silver fob at the front. The shoes could pass for unisex but just barely. And nobody noticed Grants tuxedo slacks either. They looked the same as always but were more tailored now and if one was to look closer they would have noticed there was no longer a front zipper. The zipper was now situated on the side in a most feminine fashion but luckily was hidden by the black cummerbund and tailored tuxedo jacket he wore. Editha was dressed in elegant fashion as well, her makeup and hair set properly and elegantly done in a vintage style, expensive jewelry and a full length layered blue nylon chiffon evening gown and matching clutch purse, with a mink wrap that had been left at the coat check stand. All appeared normal but at the secluded booth a more private conversation was taking place. "I should have made you wear this evening gown tonight, isn't that right princess?" Editha said in a mocking authoritative tone as Grant clutched his linen dinner napkin to dab his upper lip nervously. "You have a bit of a shine dear, should I get out the powder for you? Maybe add some lovely mascara and eyeshadow? And oh, how about some of my lovely gloss red lipstick? Do you like the shade dear?" She chuckled as she lifted her clutch purse to the table, opened it and began rummaging in a threatening manner as she relished her new control, taken back under her mother's orders. She took out her lipstick, Grant squirmed as she rolled the tube up and began applying the gloss red lipstick to her lips in broad heavy strokes. "You, don't prefer makeup this evening princess? Well, for now I guess I can understand," She mocked as she finished with the lipstick then put the purse away again as Grant breathed a sigh of relief. There would be no more adulterous behavior no more business mistakes now, because Grant was under mother's and Editha's full and absolute control. He hadn't initiated this night out, he'd been forced out. And in this new arrangement he had soon learned that, to get along you go along. Grant knew he was too old and set in his ways to end up penniless and on the street. The humiliation of his situation was more than unpleasant to be sure, but, the thought of being on the street made his head spin. Half way through their second drinks Editha opened her clutch purse and took out a cigarette and holder and a gold lighter with a ruby in a little gold medallion affixed to the side. Grant became immediately nervous as she lit her cigarette. He watched as she held the lighter and then gasped and squirmed in his seat as Editha slid the ruby on the lighter up. The ruby was a switch she could turn on and off, it was a remote control to make absolutely sure that Grant would always know his place. "I...I'm doing as you asked, please, please turn that off," He gasped. Finally, Editha switched the ruby off, the little red ruby light now dark once again as she chuckled and put the lighter back into her purse then after clicking the clutch closed she put it beside her in the booth. Grant was now only slightly red faced, only slightly flustered as he wiped his brow and upper lip with the linen napkin once again before setting it aside. It was then that Sam arrived with an expensive bottle of wine. "So nice to see you again Mr. And Mrs. Wellsley!" he beamed. "I hear that you'll be relocating," he said sadly. "It will be a shame to lose such a longtime and generous customer." "Yes, we will be moving to San Francisco later next week," Grant returned. "Editha's mother lives there, it's where the company was founded." "Sounds like quite a change. What will you be doing there?" Sam added. "Well, it seems that I will be retiring. I'll be staying around the house mostly, helping out with things while Editha continues on with the business," Grant replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "You do look healthy though Mr. Wellsley. Must be the clean shaven look. Your skin looks smoother but those little diamond stud earrings?" Sam asked. "Ah, trying to appear a bit younger, more hip. But at least I'm past the face lift," Grant said trying to pass it off as he noticed Sam looking his hair over. "Ah, that's it, a face lift! I thought so," Sam returned seemingly satisfied. That would explain the smooth skin and no wrinkles for a man in his late fifties. It went with the loss of thirty pounds as well. Finally, Sam finished his farewell and wished the couple well telling them they were welcome back anytime. He smiled as he left. And that for now was it. Prying eyes looked no further as the diners continued their drinks and small talk. Editha and Grant were now able to continue their quiet evening. "There's still that last bit of masculinity we need to overcome darling but after your appointment for your castration in another two weeks once we're in San Francisco I am quite sure you'll continue coming along just fine," She said smiling, nearly beside herself with satisfaction now. Grant Wellsley had been a rich and powerful man, a ruthless businessman, at least he had been. Nobody talked back or talked down to him, no one dared because a meeting or a phone call would be all it took to ruin someone's business or career. That is why nobody mentioned the feminine style of Grant's shoes that evening. That is why they didn't mention his smooth skin and lack of moustache, or the diamond stud earrings in each earlobe. And they didn't mention his new eyeglasses that had gone from black horn rims to a beige frame with jewel encrusted edges. They were women's frames but although they didn't look overly feminine they certainly weren't glasses any man would ever wear. And just above the glasses, the once dark bushy eyebrows were now dyed the same blonde as his hair color and trimmed tight and although not plucked into a high and feminine arch, the brows were feminine indeed. And the now blond-ish wavy hair style was a bit different too. Secretly, it was a woman's dye and hair set trimmed short! And when he handed out tips the waiter staff failed to note Grant's now well manicured fingernails, all trimmed and filed into smooth ovals with unmistakable clear gloss on each nail with just a trace of pale pink. Finally, the heavy masculine cologne he always wore had been replaced by a sedate woman's perfume, the slight floral scent not as strong as some but it was definitely not a masculine scent. It appeared that Editha had either initiated or readily approved Grant's new "metro-sexual" look. But it went far, far beyond that. Editha smoothed her gown and crossed her nylon stockinged legs with a whispering zip. She touched her well lacquered hair set with her palm before reaching for another sip of her Pink Lady. She picked up the glass and gazed upon her efforts. "You look lovely this evening darling. Simply lovely. Do you feel feminine now, hummm?" She tittered in a feminine lilting tone. When Grant didn't answer quickly enough she reached back into her purse and produced her lighter once again and teased the ruby switch with her long, gloss red fingernail. Grant took immediate notice. "Yes. Yes, I feel...I feel f...feminine dear," he gasped nervously as Editha tittered toying with the ruby switch at the side of the lighter. "I imagine you do precious," she giggled. "Enjoy your last night out. Within a few more weeks after we move in with mother and after your full reassignment that will finally make you into a woman, you'll take over duties full time as mother's maid I can assure you all those nasty masculine thoughts will soon fade away," She said with certainty. "Then we'll be quietly divorced and you'll have your name changed from Grant Wellsley back to Hawthorne, of course you won't be Grant any longer. Mother has chosen Ms. Joyce for your new name. Such a more suitable name for a proper and feminine lady don't you agree princess?" She giggled still holding the lighter. She then switched the switch on causing the ruby to glow red, the remote control sending out the activation signal. "Yes, you're going to become a regular lady." Grant went rigid momentarily and gasped in wide eyed surprise at the effect of Editha's activating the switch. She smiled with satisfaction as he squirmed in his seat. He was soon dabbing the sweat from his upper lip with the linen napkin once again and wiping his brow then setting his hands back down he gripped the napkin tightly and sat as quietly as he could. No one seated in the restaurant or waiting the tables or bringing drinks could know the full effect of Editha's remote control device. She'd had seen to it that Grant had been cleaned inside and out, finishing with a floral scented bubble bath. Then, before dressing for the evening she'd made sure to insert the plug fully into Grant's bottom. She'd trained Grant for over the past year and now, he could with only a little effort be fitted for a life sized phallic shaped plug. The plug fit tight and secure, the deep end of the shaft pressing firmly against Grant's prostate. Once the plug was activated Grant's milking procedure would be by remote control and hands free which delighted Editha, especially now out in public where Grant would just have to sit and endure his latest milking to it's greatest effect. And there he sat, under Editha's total control. And under the expensive tuxedo, beyond the ladies black flat pumps, the ladies side zip tuxedo slacks and beyond all the other feminine touches were what Editha considered proper under things. Grant had of course been Naired and waxed smooth below his trimmed and plucked eyebrows, not a hair remained on his body with the exception of a little triangle shaped trim below, which was also dyed a blonde that matched his new hair style. He'd already had a pedicure, each toenail trimmed then buffed and polished in a high gloss red. She'd made sure he dressed properly for the evening. After the snug fitting remote control plug came white, lace trimmed ladies nylon briefs. A pad was inserted into the panties and Grant's now atrophied testes were pushed deeply inside him before his flaccid manhood was pulled back tight. After the panties were pulled and smoothed up high and tight on his waist she added nude support pantyhose. A sturdy six strap garter belt came next followed by opera length sheer vintage ladies hose. Once the stockings were gartered high and tight and wrinkle free a sturdy and tight high waist white panty girdle was fitted and pulled tight until Grant's crotch was smooth, the center seam of the girdle cinched tight giving him the appearance of woman's vaginal lips! A white nylon pants liner came next. It was a bit like pyjama bottoms but these were long and lace trimmed at the cuffs, designed to move easier and feel even silkier under any type of slacks. The sensation was unmistakably feminine. And then came the white, lace trimmed playtex cross-your-heart brassiere! By now Editha's addition of the pink female hormone pills that Grant now took with each breakfast with a vitamin had caused him to blossom. She nearly swooned with excitement as she fitted the 40 "B" cup brassiere on him, easing the budding breasts into the lace trimmed satin cups, hooking the back and then adjusting the straps gave her satisfaction to no end. When she finished with a lace trimmed white nylon camisole and fussed with the straps she knew that with the way Grant looked now, he wouldn't be running around with other women ever again! She was now satisfied he could finish dressing himself. The starched tuxedo shirt came next, then the side zipper slacks and slender belt and cumber bund. Then a five button vest and finally the tuxedo jacket, cut in a loose double breasted look to hide his now feminized chest.. Black dress socks went over the ladies hosiery. He finished by slipping into the ladies black, flat pumps. They'd then left by limo for the evenings activities. Editha then switched the ruby switch to the next setting. She put another cigarette into her filtered holder, lit it then as the smoke curled up from the cigarette she sat back to watch and enjoy her efforts. Grant grunted, his hips and bottom seemed to undulate back and forth now. His face reddened as he gasped through clenched teeth. "Feel how silky all your pretty, lacy nylon under things are as you wiggle in your seat princess? Hummm? Such a feminine sensation," She chuckled mockingly. "My little precious being stimulated. I imagine your little nipples are all nice and erect now under the camisole and in the cups of your lacy new bra. Mmmmm, it must just feel so delicious doesn't it darling?" She cooed as she looked on. Grant's eye's rolled, his eyelids fluttered, his face reddened as he gasped while wiping his lips and forehead once again, and all the while he continued to squirm in his seat, his wide hips wiggling, undulating involuntarily now from the plug's massaging action as it sent silent vibrating waves pulsing against his prostate, waves that encompassed and massaged working him higher and higher to a fever pitch. "Don't make a scene now darling," Editha cautioned with a lilting giggle. "I want to make sure you have as feminine an experience as possible. Isn't it delicious?" "Unnghhhh, plea, please Editha," Grant blubbered and grunted at his limit of composure as his wide hips continued to undulate slightly grinding into the seat. Then suddenly, The club's owner Sam Densmore returned to the table! Editha reached into her clutch purse and quickly switched the ruby switch off allowing Grant to sigh in relief. "Is something wrong Mr. Wellsley?" Sam asked after seeing Grant wiggle in his chair and wiping his brow with the linen napkin. "No, no," Grant replied as he composed himself, his masculine demeanor returning if for only a fleeting moment. "I just swallowed wrong, a bit of acid reflux I guess. But I feel better now," he replied as his calmness returned. Then Sam asked for his new address so they might keep in touch. Grant wrote out the address on the corner of a menu, Sam thanked him once again then left the table. "My little priss. Pretending to actually act like the man you used to be," Editha hissed as a thin vengeful smile crossed her lips and she reached back into her purse once again and clicked the ruby switch back on, but this time to it's highest setting! Grant grunted and swooned once again, helpless. "We can't have that now can we? One way or another you're going to learn to be feminine, submissive, ladylike, and demure. We're going to purge you of all those masculine thoughts and actions, aren't we sweetie?" she cooed in a feminine lilt. This time Grant gasped louder, his hips bucked forward and he was forced to hold the table with both hands. A few diners were now starting to glance trying not to stare but as Grant mustered his will to fight the sensations of his milking they began looking away, all to Editha's enjoyment. "Once we get moved, mother will get started on you. Your credit cards will be gone as will all your accounts and any access to money. Your male clothing wardrobe, gone, all of it. Your atrophied little testes will soon be clipped and that will allow us to have your papers changed to show you as a female. Then you'll start taking female hormones full strength and living full time as a woman, and to keep busy you'll become a proper house maid. And once the lovely Joyce Hawthorne heals up from her reassignment surgeries, Grant will simple cease to exist," She said with relish, spelling out Grants future. "But of course, I suppose you could fight us, but would you really want to start over at your age darling? Over the years you've managed to alienate and hurt most every business associate you ever had. I imagine you might have a lot of trouble even finding a job now. Fast food? Or maybe a hotel maid? That would be so tragic," She chuckled as Grant writhed. "After a few more years with mother's training, you'll be a proper and very ladylike woman's maid, all prim and proper. Yes princess, you're going to forget what it was ever like to have worn pants or even what it was like being a man." "So, come on sweetie, mmmmmm. Yes." She smiled with a knowing wink. "Just a little bit more precious. Mmmmm, feels so goooood doesn't it? Closer, closer darling. Yes," she chuckled. Grant couldn't escape, his hips wiggled and bucked in the dark booth until finally Editha got her wish. Grant's pad had been wired to sense moisture, the green light on the lighter began to blink, then finally stayed lit to indicate that Grant's prostate had now been fully milked. The weak and watery emission soaking the maxi-pad in the vintage ladies panties had signaled the little green light. Editha switched the switch off fully then put the lighter back into her clutch, snapped the clasp on the purse closed and then set her clutch purse back beside her in the booth. She touched the side of her hair set again and adjusted herself in her seat. And as she reached for the last sip of her Pink Lady the waiting staff arrived with their evening meal and set the shrimp cocktail and salad in front of Editha. They set a plate of prime rib, baby potatoes with sour cream and asparagus spears in front of Grant. As the waiter left the table Grant, although hungry, slid the plate away. His thoughts were now elsewhere.

House Husband/Wife

By: Judith Gold

On our honeymoon I got my first inkling that my new bride and the love of my life was not quite what I had expected. Yes we consummated the marriage, though she insisted she wanted to be on top during intercourse. It's not like I was going to crush her or anything. I'm only five foot six and at the time weighed about 140 pounds. I realize now that being on top put her in control and that was her primary motivation. I met Karen Clarkson while in college. It was my senior year and I was majoring in accounting. Karen, who had a degree in Petroleum Engineering, was in graduate school finishing her MBA. We both graduated in June. I was 21 and she was 28. We were married that summer and I moved into her large and luxurious home. Karen went to work for an oil exploration and production company at a mid six figure salary. I found a job as an accountant for a small construction company at a salary about one tenth of what my wife was making. My accounting job was pretty basic. I put in my time from 8:30 to 4:30 five days a week. I actually had to punch a time clock since the managers were usually out of the office at their construction job sites. Karen on the other hand often worked well into the evening and did a lot of traveling to visit drilling operations in South America and the Middle East. Because of Karen's heavy work load, most of the housework fell to me. I did all the laundry and ironing, the cleaning and most of the cooking. I know it sounds like a role reversal from the traditional 'husband is head of the house' arrangement. But Karen's high income let us both enjoy luxuries that I never could have experienced on my salary. It seemed like I was always horny, but Karen wasn't that enthusiastic about sex and it quickly became a once a week thing on Saturday nights. She remained firmly in charge of things, always on top and in control. After a couple months of marriage one night in bed I started petting Karen hoping to arouse her interest even though it was a week night. "What are you doing Harold? It's only Tuesday, not Saturday." "I ... I was hoping maybe we could ... you know." "Could do something different? Are you looking for a little variety in the bedroom dear?" "Um ... yes. Something different from our usual Saturday night love making." "Oh Harold, that's a great idea. Why don't you just crawl under the covers and use your mouth and tongue to give me pleasure?" "Um ... but we've never done that. I don't like the idea of putting my mouth down there." "Well maybe I don't like the idea of you sticking your little penis inside me and filling me with that disgusting sticky stuff either Harold. Maybe we should just forget about having intercourse in the future." "No. No. I want to keep having sex with you Karen." "Good girl. Now do as I say and get your face between my legs Harold." I was stuck. The idea of going down on her seemed repulsive to me, even though I had never actually tried it. But if I didn't do it, she was going to cut me off. I swallowed my pride and pulled back the bed covers. She spread her legs and using her hands guided my face to her pussy. I wasn't quite sure what to do, but Karen let me know what she liked and disliked by the moans of pleasure she emitted. It took a while but I was able to bring her to a climax which she seemed to enjoy very much. I carefully pulled away and returned to my side of the bed. I could taste her in my mouth and my face was sticky. "Go brush your teeth and wash you face Harold. You smell like day old tuna fish." I did as instructed, thankful to remove the evidence of my oral service to my wife. When I returned to bed I had an erection, hopeful that she would reciprocate. Alas, she was already asleep. I slept poorly that night as I remained sexually frustrated. The next morning we were having our coffee in the kitchen. "Harold dear, did you enjoy what we did last night?" I hate it when she asks me questions like that. If I say yes, she'll expect me to do it again. If I say no, she'll be mad at me and probably not want to have sex Saturday night. After a pause I finally said, "Yes I enjoyed it." "I'm so glad to hear that Harold. I know you're inexperienced when it comes to pleasing women orally, but I'm sure your technique will improve with lots of practice. Oh, and we've got to do something about your scratchy whiskers. From now on I want you to shave closely in the evening before we go to bed. That should help, though I think permanent beard removal will be best in the long run." "How the hell do you permanently remove a man's beard?" "Electrolysis will take care of that Harold. I've had a few unwanted facial hairs removed that way. It's a bit painful and expensive but we can easily afford it, and it will make things so much better when I feel your nice smooth face against my flesh. The treatments will probably take several weeks, so I want you to get started right away. Don't you agree?" Shit another trick question. "Yes dear, I guess it it's that important to you I can do the hair removal thing. It might be nice to not have to shave every day." "Yes darling. Instead of wasting time shaving every morning and night, you can spend that time doing housework for us. I'll make the arrangements today. Scheduling might be a problem since I doubt if your employer will give you time off for a cosmetic procedure. Sometimes I think we would be better off if you quit your silly little accounting job and spent your days taking care of my home and working on self- improvement activities." "I know I don't make that much money Karen, and with your high income we don't really need my income to make ends meet. I realize I'm just getting started on my career, but I already know there are no ladder rungs for me to climb at the construction company. They don't even call me an accountant. My official job title is Assistant Bookkeeper." "I think you should resign Harold. You're much more valuable to me here at home than the few dollars you earn as a bookkeeper. I want you to walk into your manager's office this morning and give them notice. Do you agree?" "I ... yes if that's what you want, I'd be pleased to quit and just be your full time house husband." "Good girl Harold." "I wish you wouldn't say that good girl stuff to me Karen." "Harold, I meant it as a compliment. Don't you like it when I compliment you?" "Well yes everyone likes to receive compliments. I'm glad you think I'm doing the right thing, or as you say, being a good girl and all." "I've got to run. Big meeting this morning. Hopefully they'll not require two weeks notice and you can come back home this morning and start being my sweet little housewife. Bye dear." I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I was excited by prospect of not having to punch that damn time clock anymore. And I actually don't mind doing housework. I guess in a way I am her "little housewife". I'm small physically; five foot six, to Karen's five eleven. And of course she wears high heels with her power suits which adds another three or four inches to our height difference. I went to work that morning and told my boss I was quitting. He handed me a cardboard box and told me to gather up my personal things and get out. So much for two weeks notice. I was back home by ten. I decided to busy myself with cleaning and laundry. I changed and laundered our bed linens. As I was peeling off the bed sheets I thought about the night before; about serving her orally. She seemed to really like that. She wanted me to get my beard removed. I wondered how often she would want oral sex. I wondered if she would let me put my penis in her mouth. About two in the afternoon I drove to the market and picked up some groceries for our evening meal. Now that I'm going to be home all day I can spend more time fixing nicer meals for us. I made a beef roast with roasted potatoes and a side salad. I hoped Karen would be pleased with my efforts. Back home I got a text message from my wife. "Mayfair Clinic, 212 Paulson Ave, 9 am tomorrow." I went on line and searched for Mayfair Clinic. As I expected, it was a place that specialized in hair removal. Karen arrived home about six. I opened a bottle of red wine and poured her a glass. There was already an opened bottle of white in the refrigerator and I poured a glass of that for myself. I carried our drinks into the den where Karen was curled up on the couch having kicked off her high heels. "Thanks darling. A glass of wine is just what I need after my day at work. So tell me Harold, how was your day at work?" I laughed. "Well it wasn't really a day; more like half an hour. I spent most of the day here doing housework." "What exactly did you do darling?" "I cleaned the kitchen and did a load of dishes. Then I changed sheets on our bed; washed and ironed the dirty ones. I did a load of whites; socks, underwear, hankies. I went to the market and got some groceries. Then I started supper, which is ready whenever you are." "Sounds like you had a busy and productive day Harold. I'm glad you changed my bed linens. Now that you have the time, I expect fresh sheets on my bed every night ok?" "Um ... yes if that's what you want." "Good girl. Now come over here. I want to snuggle." There she goes again with that good girl crap. I know it's her way of complimenting me, but I wish she wouldn't refer to me as a damn girl all the time. It's not like I'm wearing dresses. I sat next to her on the couch and she wrapped an arm around my waist. She took a pinch of my belly fat between her thumb and forefinger. "What's your waist size Harold." "Thirty two inches. I wear 32-28 pants." "I think I read somewhere that your waist would be no larger than your inseam?" "I've never heard that, but if you say so." "So we really need to work on getting your waist down to 28 inches, or even less. Don't you agree Harold?" Fuck, another trick question. "Yes I guess a smaller waist would be an improvement." "Good girl. I'm glad we're in agreement on that. You're five foot six inches tall." "Close to that yes. More like five, five and a half." "And your current weight is 140?" "Last time I checked it was 142." "Hand me my laptop Harold." She fiddled with her computer for a while and then said, "You have a Body Mass Index of 23.3. While that's not considered obese, it is on the high end of the normal range. At your age I want you on the lower end of the normal range, which would be a BMI of 18.5. For your height, a weight of 113 pounds will yield an 18.5 BMI. Looks like you need to lose thirty pounds love. I'll have to design a strict program of diet and exercise for you. How does that sound?" "Karen I haven't weighed 113 pounds since grade school. I'll be as skinny as a rail at that weight." "Nonsense Harold. At 113 pounds you'll be pleasingly slim and all that body fat will have turned into muscle. I'll have a hard time keeping my hands off you in the bedroom once you've slimmed down and firmed up." "I'll try honey, but you know when I'm working in the kitchen it seems like I'm always tasting or snacking on something. I don't seem to have much self control when it comes to eating." "Don't worry about your lack of self control. I'm sure that we can find ways to control your eating even when I'm not around. Now, I'm getting hungry. Set up one place setting in the dining room for me and then you can serve dinner." "One place setting? What about me?" "You'll serve me in the dining room. When I'm finished you can clear the table and then eat in the kitchen. What did you make for tonight?" "Roast beef, potatoes and a salad." "That sounds delicious Harold. You may eat a nice salad and a small portion of meat, but no potatoes. Your new diet just started. Oh and no more wine either; too many calories in alcohol." Damn, she's treating me like I was a maid, not her husband. Serve her first; then eat alone in the kitchen. "Yes dear." I served her supper in the dining room. I turned to head back to the kitchen. "Where are you going?" "Back to the kitchen." "No. Stand over by the side table and wait in case I need anything else." So I stood, watching Karen eat while my stomach growled with hunger. She emptied her wine glass, looked up at me and pointed her finger at the empty glass. I refilled her glass and resumed my wait. Finally she stood and said I could clear. She returned to the den while I went to the kitchen to eat my salad and clean up everything. After the kitchen was put back together and the dishes washed I walked into the den. Karen was busy on her computer. I walked around behind her and started to give her a little neck rub. I glanced down at the screen. There were photos of people dressed in black leather garments; what I thought of as fetish garments. "You thinking of buying a leather dress Karen?" "No darling, I'm actually shopping for things for you." "I'm not really into leather." "Oh I know that Harold. The things I'm ordering are for function, not fashion. Now, be a good girl and go shave your face nice and close. I'm in the mood for a little loving again tonight." I wanted to ask her what she was buying for me, but decided not to press it, figuring I would find out when the merchandise arrived. I shaved extra close again and crawled under the covers just as Karen came up from downstairs. She stood in front of me and did sort of a strip tease as she removed her jacket, skirt and blouse, followed by her bra, panties and panty hose. I was surprised to see that she no longer had any pubic hair; she must have shaved it off since last night. Instead of lying on her side of the bed she crawled up over the top of me and straddled me. She slowly slid forward and lowered her pussy against my face. It was just like when we have intercourse. She was on top. She was in control. When she finished she rolled off and I went to the bathroom to wash and brush. By the time I returned to our bed she was asleep again. So much for my dreaming that she would let me put my penis in her mouth. The next morning Karen left for a business trip and I went to my first appointment at Mayfair Clinic. Karen was right. Electrolysis is a very slow and painful process. The woman who worked on my face told me it would take about a dozen visits to finish my whole face. She made one hour appointments for me for every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 9 am. With Karen away on business I was left alone for two nights. I was so horny that I resorted to masturbating for some sexual relief. I hadn't masturbated since before our marriage and frankly I felt kind of guilty about doing it. It was almost as if I was being unfaithful to my wife. With Karen gone there wasn't that much housework to do and I was finished with everything that needed to be done by noon. Then I got a text from Karen. There would be a treadmill delivered that afternoon. I was to let the men in and have them set the machine up in the basement. She said that some packages would be delivered and that I was to leave them unopened until her return. Finally there was a file attached which was a rather detailed set of menus for me to follow as part of my new diet. Even when out of town it seemed like Karen was asserting her control over me. The treadmill was installed and I put on an old pair of sneakers and tried it out. In about ten minutes I had worked up a nice sweat and was panting. It reminded me of how out of shape I was. I had just finished my second appointment at Mayfair when Karen arrived home from her business trip. I greeted her at the front door and we embraced. I had to stand on my tiptoes to compensate for the height difference and her high heels. "How was your trip dear?" "Oh just wonderful. Packed in coach on the plane like a bunch of sardines. Sitting next to some fat fuck who spilled over into my space. The business meetings went well but the coming and going is a real pain in the ass. Maybe next time I can use the company jet, but our Chairman was using it so I had to fly with the unwashed. So were you a good girl while I was gone?" "Well I had two appointments at Mayfair. She said I will need like a dozen sessions to get rid of everything." "Be sure to tell her I want that little patch of chest hair removed as well dear." "Um ... yes dear." "Have you tried the treadmill yet?" "Yes I tried it out yesterday. It really makes you work; makes you sweat." "Yes it will sweat out some of that extra weight you're carrying. What else did you do while I was gone?" "Not much really. The house doesn't require as much work when it's just me here." "You didn't really answer my earlier question Harold. Were you a good girl while I was gone?" "Actually I did something I kind of regretted after the fact." "What was that dear?" "I ... I masturbated." "And why did you regret doing that?" "Well it just seemed sort of unfaithful for me to get sexual pleasure without my wife." "How often have you engaged in that disgusting practice?" "Only the one time. Since we got married I never did it until yesterday." "Once more you've demonstrated a serious lack of self control. It seems I'm going to have to take control of that too. Thankfully a man's penis is quite easy to control, just as his over-eating can be controlled. Fortunately I already anticipated this." "By the way, there are three parcels in the den. I didn't open them." "Well we may as well get started; there's no time like the present." I followed Karen into the den. She sent me to the kitchen for a knife and scissors to open the packages. I sat on the couch curious as to just what she bought for me. I was both excited and a little fearful not knowing what I was getting. "Be a good girl and get undressed for me Harold." I slipped off my loafers and took off my slacks and shirt, sitting in just my socks and underpants. "Take everything off please." I removed my socks and underpants. My penis was limp and embarrassingly small. "First we'll try on your new waist cinch." She held up a rather formidable looking black leather garment which she wrapped around my waist. There were metal fasteners in front and heavy laces running the length of the back sort of like an old fashion corset. I had to suck my stomach in for her to get it fastened in front. Then she started pulling out the laces in back, further constricting my stomach. The cinch was very rigid because vertical steel stays were sewn in every couple inches. Once I was laced I could no longer really bend or twist at the waist. "I can see an improvement in your posture already dear. You're standing much straighter than normal." "It feels hot inside this thing Karen." "Yes it is designed to trap body heat which will aid in reducing your waist. The leather cinch is lined in heavy rubber that doesn't breathe. This will protect the fine leather from your body sweat that would damage the leather." "It feels too tight Karen. Can you loosen the laces some please?" "On the contrary dear. We'll let you wear it like this for about an hour. The cinch should settle in and then we can retighten your laces." There were eight leather straps hanging down from the bottom of the cinch reaching almost to mid thigh. "What are the straps for Karen?" "Those are your garter straps love. If you want to wear nylon stockings you'll need garters to hold them up." "Why would I ever want to wear nylon stockings?" "To please me of course. If I want my little housewife to wear stockings, surely she will want to wear them as well to please me. Don't you agree?" Another trick question. "Yes darling, I suppose if you really wanted me to wear nylon stockings I would do that for you." "Good girl! Run up to our bedroom. In the top right hand drawer of my dresser there should be some packages of new stockings. Bring a package back here." I walked upstairs to our bedroom wearing the beastly leather waist cinch and nothing else. I found the stockings and returned to the den. "You've watched me dress often enough. I assume you know how to put on a pair of nylons?" "Yes I guess so. You roll them first and then start at the toe and unroll them up your leg, right?" "Show me." I spent the next few minutes rolling nylon stockings up my legs for the first time in my life. They were very clingy and actually felt kind of nice wrapped around my legs and thighs. Karen showed me how the metal and rubber garter tabs worked and I fastened four garters to the top of each stocking. "You look very nice in stockings Harold. I'm so glad you asked me to allow you to wear nylons." I didn't exactly ask her like I wanted to wear them. It was more like I'd wear them if she asked me. Oh well. She ran her hands over my stockings. That kind of gave me goose bumps. "I know you don't have a lot of leg hair dear, but you really must shave your legs now that you've decided to wear stockings." "Um ... yes dear. I can shave my legs tonight when I shave my face before bed." "Do you ever wish you were taller Harold?" "Yes like all the time. I have to stand on tiptoes to even kiss you. I was always the shortest guy in my class and you know people call you names and stuff." "What if I said there was a way I could make you five inches taller than you are now?" "I would say wave your magic wand and do it." "It's nothing magical dear. Girls have been augmenting their height for centuries. It just requires the right kind of footwear." "Footwear? You mean high heels?" "Yes darling of course." "But I'm a guy. Guys don't wear high heels." "You're my little housewife now Harold. And little housewives most certainly do wear high heels to please their spouses. You do want to please me don't you?" "Yes of course I want to please you Karen. I love you." "Then you must want to wear high heels, right?" She sure has a way of painting me into a corner with her trick questions. "Yes dear, I want to wear high heels, if it pleases you." "Good girl. I checked and you wear an 8 1/2 men's shoe which roughly translates into a woman's size 10. Try these on; let's see how they fit." She handed me a pair of black leather stiletto heel shoes with a wide ankle strap. "Since you have no experience wearing heels I thought an ankle strap design would give you more support than a slip on heel. Yes they seem to fit fine. I'll just fasten the ankle straps. These little padlocks hold them closed so you don't have to worry about them coming off." She wrapped the ankle straps around my ankles and closed the small padlocks locking them in place. She put the keys to my high heels in her purse. "Stand up dear. Walk around. Try to take small dainty steps, placing one foot in front of the other." I was pretty wobbly at first but seemed to be getting the hang of it. I don't know which was more uncomfortable; the hot rubber lined cinch that was crushing my waist or these high heels that made it feel like I was walking on my toes. "Oh Harold. I'm getting hot just watching you. You are so sexy in your new outfit. I can't wait to get you in my bed tonight. Now turn away from me. Your cinch has settled in enough that I think we can tighten the laces a bit more." I turned and stood passively as she pulled a few more inches of lace out and retied the laces. "Your cinch has a leather pouch built in back to tuck away your laces. That way they won't be dangling or coming loose. Once the laces are in the pouch it can be zipped shut and locked. That will assure me that someone with no self control doesn't cheat and loosen her laces." I heard the click of another padlock and realized that like my high heels, the cinch was not coming off or being loosened until Karen unlocked me. There were still two unopened packages which she turned to next. "My next gift is something to help control your urge to masturbate. It's a simple chastity device which will keep your little penis from getting hard. Your wee wee goes into this small stainless steel tube which connects to this steel ring that locks in place behind our ball sack. Oh my Harold! Your little man is starting to erect. Apparently the idea of being locked in a chastity device excites you. Be a good girl and go get me a dish of ice from the kitchen." I clip clopped in my high heels back to the kitchen where I filled a small bowel with ice cubes, returning to the den and handing the ice to Karen. She started to ice down my penis which quickly retreated and shrank. Then she slid the steel tube over it and locked it in place behind my balls. I could see there was a narrow slot cut in the tip of the tube which would allow for urination without removal. The design of the device forced my penis down between my legs. "Am I going to have to sit to pee when wearing this thing?" "Yes dear, you'll be sitting to pee from now on, just like all the other little housewives in the world." I suddenly felt overwhelmed. So much was happening so quickly. I don't want to wear a chastity thing. I don't want to wear a damn corset or nylon stockings or high heeled shoes. I lost it. I started to cry. "What's wrong darling? You should be happy with all the nice gifts I bought for you. Perhaps those are tears of joy; not sadness." "I'm sorry Karen. It's just a lot to absorb all at once. My feet hurt. I can barely breathe in this tight cinch. And now I can't even see or touch my penis." "Everything will be fine love. You'll soon get used to the changes. I bet in a few weeks you won't even remember what it was like not to be corseted or wear heels or be kept chaste. I know it's going to be difficult at first, but with time and patience and lots of practice I am certain you will be thankful for these gifts. They are for your own good dear. The waist cinch will help you control your eating; you'll get full sooner. And of course your figure is already improved. The high heels make you so much taller; so much more attractive to me. And the chastity will help you stop masturbating; you'll no longer feel all the guilt you associate with that disgusting habit. I'm only giving you the things you want and need. You should be happy, not sad." "I'm sorry Karen. Of course you're right. Like you say, I'll get used to the changes and eventually they will seem like the norm. And knowing how much this all pleases you is like the most important thing I can do for you." "There is just one box left darling. I'm afraid this will cause you considerable distress until you get used to it, but I feel strongly that it is necessary. It will give you free range in our kitchen without me worrying about you snacking and ruining your diet." It was another black leather object but I had no clue as to its use or purpose. She walked behind me with the object in her hands. "Open your mouth nice and wide dear." I opened my mouth and she pushed what felt like a hard rubber ball behind my teeth. The device was kind of like a very wide collar which ran from just below my nose to cover my mouth and chin; then taper down around my neck and flare out again at my collar bone. Like the waist cinch it was heavy black leather on the outside and lined in black rubber. With the ball gagging me I could still make grunting noises but no longer communicate by voice. Like the waist cinch, the collar laced in back and Karen pulled it snug, but not so tight as to interfere with my breathing or circulation. "I know you can no longer speak darling, but this was the only solution I was able to come up with that will prevent unauthorized eating. It's called a posture collar. It will keep you from slouching and will hold your head up proudly. There is a small hole in the ball gag which will allow you to breathe through your mouth like when your nose is stuffed up. You can also insert a straw through that hole to drink water while wearing your collar. And of course it locks on, so you will not be tempted to remove it in my absence. When you need to communicate you can simply text me, or even write notes on a note pad if you prefer. Now come upstairs. I want you to see yourself in my full length mirror. You are one sexy girl I must say. I made my first attempt at navigating stairs in five inch heels. I kept a strong grip on the banister and managed to make it without falling. When I looked in the mirror I saw this exotic creature staring back at me. From the chest down she looked like a woman; a woman with some shiny stainless steel between her legs. From the chest up she looked like a man; flat chest, short hair, no jewelry or makeup. I stared at this strange incarnation of myself for some time. Finally Karen turned me away from the mirror, pressed her body against mine and kissed the leather mask covering my mouth. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her tightly. It was a very emotional and romantic moment for me. Even though most would view what she had done to me with disgust, I knew it was just her way of expressing her love for me. I knew I wanted to do everything possible to earn her love, even if it meant wearing these bizarre and decidedly uncomfortable garments. Karen headed back down stairs with me following carefully behind her. Going down stairs in heels is even more challenging than going up, but I managed. At the foot of the stairs she held my hand. "Darling I'm going to run over to the office for a few hours and clean up some things before the weekend. You can stay here and fix me a nice dinner. I'm ready for some of your home cooking after all that hotel and airline food. Text me if you have any problems ok?" I nodded my head; she smiled and went out to the garage. I went to the kitchen and started work on her supper. I was in a lot of pain. Not the kind of pain that brings tears to your eyes, but the slow steady manageable pain that comes from wearing stiletto heels, a tight waist cinch and a posture collar and gag. I rather liked wearing the stockings, and surprisingly the chastity tube didn't cause any discomfort as long as my penis stayed soft. In spite of the handicaps of my new garments, I was able to function fairly normally in the kitchen. I got a phone call. I checked the caller ID and let it go to voicemail. Obviously phone conversations are impossible when locked and gagged. There was chicken and pork chops in the refrigerator. I debated and then decided to text Karen to see what she preferred. Pork chops was the answer. I set up the broiler and prepared a serving of rice and a side salad. About five I heard the garage door open and my loving wife returned. I quickly poured her a glass of her favorite red wine and took it into the den. "Thank you darling. You do make such an excellent housewife. I think I'll keep you." I smiled on the inside at her compliment, but of course the collar/gag prevented me from making any facial expressions. I went back to my kitchen and put the chops under the broiler. I was hungry, but doubted that she would allow me any food so tried to put those thoughts out of my mind. I served her supper in the dining room, setting the table for one. I stood by the side table. Standing still wearing high heels seems even harder than walking in them. My feet were throbbing, but I stood by patiently in case she needed a refill of anything. When she was finished she thanked me kindly for preparing a nice meal and returned to the den. I spent the next hour or so cleaning up in the kitchen before returning to the den. I decided to pick up all the wrappings and boxes from my new "garments" and took everything to the recycle bin. I returned and sat quietly across from my wife. She was busy on her laptop, probably doing something work related, though the thought crossed my mind that she might be ordering some new horrible thing that I would have to wear. Finally I pulled out my phone and texted her "I love you". She looked at her phone and smiled. "I love you too darling. How are you feeling?" I texted "hungry" She smiled. "Girls on strict diets are always hungry. How are the heels; the waist cinch; the collar?" I texted "feet hurt, hard to breathe, jaw hurts, still hungry" "Before we go to bed I'll take off your collar so you can shave and brush your teeth. You won't have to sleep in it tonight." I texted "what about cinch, chastity, heels?" "I'll unlock your waist cinch in the morning so you can shower. The chastity stays locked at all times except when I remove it to clean you. After we have sex I'll unlock your heels for the night." I texted "we having sex tonight?" "Yes darling." I texted "intercourse?" "No darling. Intercourse is impossible when you're locked in chastity. You'll be serving me orally. That's what you want isn't it?" Disappointedly I texted "yes dear" She unlocked my posture collar. I was grateful to have that nasty ball gag out of my mouth. I shaved closely and joined her in bed. She got on top of my face again and I licked her to what seemed to be a satisfying orgasm. My heels, chastity and waist cinch remained securely locked. I washed and returned to bed, expecting her to be asleep. She was sitting up reading something on her tablet computer. "Thank you darling that was very nice. Your oral talents seem to be improving with practice." "I'm glad I was able to give you pleasure dear." "I've been doing a bit of on line research. It seems there are a couple of little procedures that can help you improve your oral service even more." "Well I'll try to do whatever I can to make it more enjoyable for you Karen." "Good girl. I'll make the arrangements tomorrow." "What arrangements?" "You know that little flap of flesh that connects the underside of your tongue to the bottom of your mouth? Well according to my research it can be trimmed back a bit and that will allow you to stick your tongue out another inch or so. You'll be able to penetrate me more deeply. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?" "I ... I don't know dear. I never heard of such things before." "Oh it's quite safe; just a simple out-patient procedure. There is a shop in town that specializes in that sort of thing. They'll be able to do your tongue studs at the same time." "Tongue studs? What are you talking about Karen?" "I'm going to have your tongue pierced and studded. Then when you lick my clitoris the studs will intensify my pleasure. Isn't that clever?" "You said tongue studs; plural. You want me to get more than one?" "Yes dear, you'll get three studs; one near the tip of your tongue and one further back on each side in a triangle pattern." "I don't want anyone sticking needles in my tongue Karen. That's going to be painful." "Yes I know it will be quite painful darling, but what is a little one time shot of pain compared to the lifetime of pleasure you'll be able to give others when your tongue is fixed? I'll pay for the piercings and jewelry of course. All you have to do is suffer a bit of momentary pain. This is what you want too isn't it dear?" "Y ... yes darling. I want to get my tongue pierced three times and have them cut the thing under my tongue so I can give you more pleasure." "You are such a good girl Harold. Good girls should have a nice girl name shouldn't they Harold?" "What do you mean?" "Think about it. I just said 'you're such a good girl Harold'. Doesn't that sound strange? Wouldn't it be better if I called Heather or Hannah or Helen a good girl rather than Harold?" "Well when you put it that way ... you could either say Harold's a good boy, or I guess the alternative would be to use some girl's name and say she's a good girl when you want to compliment me." "I'm so pleased that you agree darling. Now we just have to select a new girl's name for my cute little housewife. What name do you like dear?" "I don't know. Does it have to start with an H?" "No you can pick any girl's name you wish." "I had a baby sister named Sarah. She died when she was only a couple weeks old. Maybe like to honor her memory you could call me Sarah?" "Sarah is a lovely name darling. Henceforth, you shall be my cute little housewife Sarah." "So you're not going to call me Harold anymore?" "Of course not dear. I've never heard of a girl named Harold, have you?" "No I guess not. But then I'm not really a girl. I'm just a guy in high heels and a corset." "You need to be patient Sarah. Becoming a real girl takes time and effort. We start out small; taking baby steps. But over time Harold recedes and Sarah comes to the fore. Won't that be exciting?" "Yes dear is that's really what you want for me, you can call me Sarah from now on." "Wonderful. I'll have my attorney draw up the papers Monday." "What papers?" "The legal documents we'll need to change your name from Harold to Sarah." "Legal? You want me to change my legal name to Sarah?" "Of course darling. You picked the name yourself. We just need a judge to approve your petition to make it official. Your new driver's license will say Sarah. No one will ever need to call you Harold again. Isn't that wonderful?" "So what happens if I get stopped for speeding or something and I give the police my driver's license and it says my name is Sarah, but I'm obviously a guy?" "Well Sarah, once your name is changed I can hardly let you run around looking like a guy now can I. Until your hair grows out you'll wear wigs. We can get your ears pierced at the same time we fix your tongue. I'll show you how to use makeup. We'll buy you a whole new wardrobe of cute girl's clothing and shoes and boots. It will be such fun shopping for you; teaching you all the ins and outs of being a girl." "Karen is this really what you want? You want to feminize me? Turn me into a real girl?" "Yes Sarah that is exactly what I want. You already make love to me like girls make love to each other. Yes you still have a penis but thankfully it's safely locked away now. With hormone therapy your breasts will develop, and they can then be enhanced with implants if necessary. If you want, you can keep your little penis as long as it stays locked. Or when the time comes, the doctors can make you a pretty new vagina and get rid of those nasty testicles and penis flesh. Face it darling, you'll make a much better girl than a man. What woman wants a man who is less than five foot six, who has a small penis that never stays hard long enough to pleasure her and who is unemployed with no great job prospects? We'll both be much happier when you embrace womanhood." "Karen, why did you marry me if you wanted a woman as your lover?" "My industry is still very male dominated. My career would have been ruined if I came out as a lesbian. You being a male legitimatized our relationship. From the first time we met I saw your potential. You're the right size; you're submissive and deferential. You make a lousy husband, but a wonderful wife. You're anatomically male, but in most other respects female. When you looked at yourself in the mirror after I dressed you what did you see?" "To be honest, from the chest down I saw a female." "Yes me too. And once we get your breasts fixed and do something with hair, makeup and jewelry you'll be a girl from the chest up too. I know what is best for you Sarah. You're my wife and I love and cherish you. You want this too don't you Sarah?" I hesitated. This was like the final commitment. I took a deep breath. "Yes Karen. I love you and I want to be your little housewife Sarah. And if you think I'll be better off with a vagina instead of a penis, then of course I'll consent to that too." Over the next few weeks my male wardrobe was totally replaced with skirts, blouses, bras, panties, corsets and more high heels. My facial and chest hair were completely removed. I wore makeup. She had my ears pierced four times on each ear. I got the three tongue studs and had the skin under my tongue cut back. My legal name was changed to Sarah Clarkson as she wanted me to assume her maiden name. I served her orally every night except when Karen was away on business. She removed my chastity device once a week for cleaning. She would put a condom on my penis and give me a hand job. Then she insisted I take off the condom and consume the contents. I resisted that at first, but she said unless I agreed to eat my own cum, she would just keep me locked and chaste. I had no choice really. Under the supervision of her doctor, I was put on a hormone regimen and over time my breasts started to blossom at the same time my weight steadily declined. A strict diet and heavy exercise schedule did the trick and within six months I was down to 113 pounds which she had set as my weight goal. My waist shrank for 32 inches to 27. My new corsets kept getting smaller and I could be laced down to an about 24 inches. My heels were all of the locking ankle strap design, as Karen didn't trust me to keep wearing heels when she was away from home. Once I was comfortable and competent in five inch heels she replaced them with six inch stilettos. I suffered at first with the added inch, but the body does adapt to whatever restrictions it faces and in time six inch heels became the norm. The leather posture collar proved impractical as I could not be seen in public wearing something that visible. Karen sent me to an orthodontist she knew from her graduate school days and I was fitted with heavy metal braces top and bottom. There was a latching device on each side of my jaws. With a specially made wrench Karen could lock my jaws together, which she did every morning before leaving for work. That prevented me from eating and from speaking, just as the posture collar had done. But I could still be seen in public as I ran my errands to the grocery or cleaners. Of course it was embarrassing to be wearing braces as an adult, but Karen said I looked cute in braces and that wearing them would be a good discipline for me. In addition to the female hormones, Karen put me on something she called a testosterone blocker. After about two months on that drug, when she took off my chastity for my weekly sexual release I was unable to attain an erection and my little penis just hung flaccidly between my legs. At that point she let me stop wearing the chastity device as it was no longer needed to prevent erections or masturbation. While I never really desired to be feminized, I realize now that we are much better off with me as Karen's housewife than as her husband. Her career has continued to blossom and I think I take some of the credit for her success by being her loving and devoted wife. She recently informed me that she has taken a lover who she referred to as a "real man". I cried when I got that news. I haven't met him yet, but think I understand how my tongue may not fully satisfy all of her sexual needs, so I must accede to her wishes and support her in that decision. While I still serve Karen sexually I'm no longer allowed to sleep in her bed. She told me a maid should sleep in her own room. She converted a kitchen pantry into a very small bedroom and that is where I sleep now. She refers to it as the "maid's room" and increasingly refers to me as her maid, rather than her housewife. She made me sign some papers recently which dissolved our marriage, so legally speaking I'm no longer her husband or her wife. My status really is that of a maid now. She doesn't pay me a salary or anything, but continues to pay for all of my needs including the cute new maid's dresses she recently bought me. I'm anxious to meet Karen's new boyfriend. I wonder if he will find me sexually attractive? Maybe he'll want to use my mouth like Karen does, or maybe even use my bottom hole. I don't know if I'll like having sex with a man but I'm curious to find out. I guess with all the female hormones in my system I'm not just dressing like a girl, but starting to think like a girl too.

Sissy Husband: Honeymoon

By Jans sissy sally


Matthew and Jan were on their way to the Airport to go on their expensive four weeks honeymoon to Hawaii. There was only one more thing to do before they could leave. Jan had insisted to pay a visit to her Mother to say goodbye before the trip.
When they arrived at Linda's home matthew was alarmed when he saw his Mother's car in the driveway. They found her having coffee with Linda in the living room. Jan excused herself to use the bathroom and left Matthew alone with his Mother Blanche and Mother in Law Linda.
"We need to have a little talk, matthew," his Mother began. "Jan has informed us about what happened during your wedding night and Linda is now justifiably concerned about your ability of being a suitable husband for her daughter at all. I however assured her that you have many of redeeming traits regardless of your shortcomings in bed."
Matthew was dumbfounded. Had Jan really told them everything that happened? Shortcomings in bed?
"I… I… don't understand…" he stammered, when he remembered he had a flight to catch. "Do we really need to discuss this right now?"
"You soiled your Wife's feet with your premature ejaculation boy, and while she took a shower to clean herself from your filth you masturbated alone in bed on your wedding night. Don't you think that is a reason for concern?" his Mother replied. "You should call yourself lucky Jan has not annulled the marriage right away. We absolutely need to discuss this now to give your Mother in law some peace of mind about what sort of things you can do right. You know how we do this sort of thing, undress!"
"Do I really have to…" Matthew attempted to protest, but when his Mother snapped her fingers and said, "NOW!" he immediately went silent and began to unbutton his shirt.
She turned to Linda to explain: "Every time we have to address some issues, I had him in the nude. It makes him much more agreeable, I hope you don't mind?"
"Absolutely not," Linda replied. "And I must say that thing you do with your fingers is quite impressive, Blanche. Is that some kind of hypnosis?"
Blanche laughed. "No, this has nothing to do with hypnosis. It is his trigger to avoid the consequences of not following my instructions. It was a hard piece of work to get him conditioned that way."
"That sounds so convenient. Does it only work if you do it?"
"Not at all. He instantly reacts with silence and obedience to any random finger snapping. It takes him a couple of seconds to snap out of it and comprehend if it was even directed at him. His younger Sister did it all the time just to tease him. You may want to try yourself any time."
In the meantime Matthew had finished undressing. He had been deliberately slow because he hoped Jan would return and make them realize that they had to leave for the airport. Now he was standing naked before the two Ladies with his hands over his privates trying to retain some dignity and to hide his chastity cage.
Blance had of course noticed it regardless and pointed at his crotch. "What is that, boy?"
The moment matthew opened his mouth to answer he was interrupted by the sound of a finger snap.
"On your toes! Hands on your back! Eyes on the floor!"
He had followed all the commands before his mind even realized they did not come from his Mother but his Mother in law.
"Oh my god, it really works." Linda clapped her hands in excitement and laughed out loud. "That is incredible!"
Blance was pleasantly surprised and praised Linda's execution of the snap. With hands behind his back matthew now openly displayed the metal device that was tightly fastened and locked around his testicles keeping his penis confined in a tiny curved tube that prevented any kind of expansion or touch.
He remained silent looking down at the ground and balancing on his toes, while Linda told Blanche the story about his vow of chastity in every embarrassing detail.
"Had I ever known about these, you would have been locked since puberty boy." His Mother laughed and beckoned him over to take a closer look and assure herself of the effectivity of the device. "This is perfect," she stated after some pulling and squeezing. "Just to think about the efforts I made. I kept him tucked away in tight girdles night and day to prevent masturbation and erections. He had special mittens for the night and he would have to ask permission to use the bathroom and was not allowed to lock any doors so I or his Sister could walk in on him at any time no matter where he was in the house. Grace was especially keen to keep him on his toes. Oh the stories I could tell…"
She paused and Matthew seized the opportunity to get a word in. "Mother, we really need to get going or Jan and I will miss our plane"
"Oh, don't you worry dear. I promise you nobody will miss the plane," Blanche replied. "We are not done here yet. Now go pick up your clothes and show Linda how neatly you can fold them."
"Yes, Ma'am," Matthew replied with a hint of a sigh and began the task.
"I really enjoy how respectfully he addresses you, Blanche. I like the sound of someone his age using 'Miss' and 'Ma'am'. Of course I don't mind that he is calling me Linda, even though he never asked permission as far as I remember."
"Did you hear that matthew? Linda just told you something about herself in a very subtle way. Isn't that wonderful? That is exactly why we are having this little talk. Let's see how you can use this clue to act in a way that will please your Mother in Law."
Matthew didn't think it was subtle at all, but he knew better than to object right now. All he wanted was to get this 'talk" over with.
"I think to show your appreciation and respect, you want to address Linda by her last name from now on. Every sentence directed to her you want to begin with 'Mrs. Rivers' or end in 'Ma'am'. Or both, regardless if in private or public."
"Oh that is so sweet of you Mandy, I really appreciate that," Linda said, without considering matthew's potential opinion in the matter. "…and you folded up all your clothes so neatly too. Your mother was right, you have excellent homemaker skills."
"Of course he also knows how to wash and iron them. When he still did our laundry at home, Grace and I had him do all the delicates by hand and hang them up to dry. I also taught him how to cook and clean the house, he gives excellent massages and pedicures and you can trust him to polish your most expensive heels to perfection," his Mother added.
"That sounds like our little Mandy here would make any housewife jealous," Linda concluded.
"Isn't it nice to hear your skills are being appreciated? Did you notice Linda feels comfortable enough now to call you by a affectionate little nickname? I think we came a long way in just a few minutes and created a firm foundation on which your relationship of Mother and son in law will be able to grow on. Now remember to thank Linda for her nice words, Mandy."
Matthew didn't like the fact that both of them were calling him mandy now, but he was happy that the 'Talk' was obviously over and he didn't want to stir any more debate, so he simply said, "Thank you Mrs. Rivers, Ma'am."
"You are welcome, dear. I feel so much better now that we established your place in the family, dear. Don't you think?" Linda replied.
matthew didn't like the insinuation about his place in the family and neither did he like how both of them looked at him in anticipation of his answer. He told himself that it was only for a few more minutes and he would be out of here and he didn't want to leave for his honeymoon with his Mother in Law mad at him. He swallowed his pride and answered,
"Yes, Mrs. Rivers"
Both Ladies smiled and gave each other a knowing look. "I believe this calls for a little celebration!" Linda suggested. "Drinks anyone?"
"That is a wonderful idea!" Blanche agreed. "Mandy makes excellent Margaritas from scratch."
"Come on then sweetie, i'll show you the kitchen," Linda said and walked off, obviously expecting him to follow.
Matthew his Mother a desperate look extending his hand at the the folded clothes on the table, hoping she would give him permission to get dressed again.
"You are the one who is in a hurry boy," she said instead. "You may get dressed while we are having the drinks, now don't make Linda wait."
But Linda was already waiting when he entered the kitchen. A pair of shoes in one hand and a apron in the other. "Here are some house shoes for you so you don't get cold feet on the tiled kitchen floor."
They were pink velvet ballerina flats with a hard sole and a big decorative bow across the toes. "Don't give me that look, I don't have any others," Linda said when he hesitated for a second.
They felt very small, but having his Mother in law towering over him, tapping her heels impatiently while he was crouching nude on the floor to slip into a pair of tiny girly shoes made him feel so intimidated that he didn't dare to complain about the size. He just struggled to squeeze his feet into them regardless.
"See? They will do just fine for you," Linda said and added, "What do we say?"
He instantly replied, "Thank you Mrs. Rivers, Ma'am."
"Better," she remarked with obvious resentment in her voice. As soon as he was done with the shoes she slipped the apron over his head. "We don't want you to mess yourself up, do we? Turn around."
It was an old fashioned pinafore style with wide ruffled shoulder straps and hem. It closed behind from his neck to his lower back, leaving his buttocks exposed and framed in ruffles as the sides extended down to the front of his knees. Linda zipped him up and tied several additional ribbons into pretty bows on his back. When Matthew thought she was finally done he felt something being slipped over his forehead. He was so surprised that he instinctively reached up, which earned him a slap on the fingers. "Don't touch it. I don't want any hair in my drink," she stated in a tone that allowed for no debate. Checking himself in the reflective surface of the glass cupboard it appeared to be a turban style headband, matching his shoes in color and style with the decorative bow twice as big on his forehead.
After Linda had shown him all the ingredients, she pointed at a silver tray and said, "When you are done stay as you are and serve the cocktails to us in the living room." Before she left him alone, she kept tapping her heels impatiently until he remembered to say, "Yes Mrs. Rivers," again, which she commented with, "We will need to work on that."
Matthew hurried to get the drinks ready. He heard some excited laughter coming from the living room and, to his relief, Jan's voice eventually joined in. That made him feel relieved and he prepared one more glass for her. Now they would be as as good as out of here.
Little later he carried the tray with the drinks out of the kitchen accompanied by the delicate sounds the shoes made on the hardwood floor. His feet were aching but he was happy to find everyone in high spirits. "It was fantastic, Mom," Jan just said with her back to him.
"The drinks are ready, Ladies," he declared and presented the tray. Jan turned around and burst into laughter "Oh my God, you look adorable!" she said when she finally caught herself, Blanche agreed wholeheartedly. They made him turn around a few times and he swallowed their humiliations quietly.
"You know, that these used to be my shoes and headband Blanche?" she revealed and turned back to matthew. "I can't believe they fit you! I had them when I was like sixteen!"
Blanche snapped her fingers indicating that he was supposed to serve the drinks and he walked up to each of the Women. They all took their cocktail with the words: "Thank you, mandy."
There was one margarita left, since matthew had made one for himself as well, but before he could set the tray down to take it someone snached it from behind. Matthew looked and his heart sank even lower when he saw Mark, Linda's young lover. Where did he suddenly come from? He was the last person matthew wanted to see him like that.
Mark sneered at him, raised his drink and said, "Thank you mandy."
"You remember Mark?" Linda said. "He was your best man and even took care of your bride most of the evening when you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I ever heard you thanking him."
Matthew didn't say anything, he refused to thank Mark for the humiliations he had to endure at the wedding.
"Don't be like that sweetie," Jan said, "Mark really was a perfect gentlemen at the reception, pitching in while you spent most of the evening at the Bridesmaids table. You should show some gratitude."
Matthew clenched his teeth, and finally said, "Thank you, Mark."
Blanche remarked, "He is your Mother in Law's boyfriend. Address him properly like I taught you to address my boyfriends!"
One deep breath later Matthew uttered, "Thank you, Master Mark."
Mark pinched him in his cheek and sneered, "You're welcome, doll."
Everyone finished their drinks while having some pleasant conversation. Except matthew just stood there disregarded, trying not to break into tears.
"Well, I better be going now," Blanche suddenly said, "and our young lovers better hurry to catch their plane too I suppose."
"Be a dear, take these back to the kitchen and clean up the mess you made, while I say goodbye to your Mother and Jan," Linda said when everyone had put their glasses back on the tray.
Matthew didn't even have time to open his mouth as his Mother anticipated his answer. "You may as well remove the word "no" from your vocabulary son. If Linda asks you a favor you will smile and do whatever she wants you to. And I better never hear any of the contrary. I hope you understand? Now show us how it's done."
Matthew forced himself to smile and say, "Yes, Mrs. Rivers," before he headed for the kitchen.
"I'll be there in a minute," she stated as he walked out.
For the past few minutes since he had been made to thank Mark, matthew had felt like in a daze. Just now he started to regain his senses. Finally it was over. He placed the cocktail glasses in the dishwasher, put all the ingredients back in the cupboards and wiped the countertops. There would be nothing to complain about, nothing that would give anyone any reason to delay this any longer. He wouldn't wait for Linda to come in either. He was done and he would get dressed. It was time to leave.
As he walked back into the living room, it was empty. Everyone was gone and even his clothes had disappeared from the table. His shoes, his watch, his wallet, everything.
"Didn't I tell you to stay in the kitchen?" Linda said. She had just come back in through the front door.
"Where is everyone?" Matthew asked.
Linda raised her finger. "What do we say?"
"Where is everyone, Ma'am?" Matthew corrected himself.
"They are gone, of course. Your Mother went home, and Jan and Mark are off to Hawaii. It's only the two of us now."
"But…"
Linda snapped her fingers and matthew stopped talking. "It was really your Mother who suggested that you would be no fun for Jan during the honeymoon, when she heard how useless you turned out to be in bed. All of us agreed of course and I offered Mark as a stand in, because he is an excellent lover. They actually had sex upstairs just now, while you demonstrated your homemaking skills to us down here. Jan was completely blown away."
Matthew realized what Jan had been so excited about when he served the cocktails.
"She will have a wonderful time with sex any time of the day she wants to. I instructed Mark specifically to tend to her every whim. He carries your wallet, as we figured your Wife should be spoiled with your money since you are the husband after all."
"Which brings us to your part in the plan and why you will be going along with it. I promised Jan I would turn you into a perfect little housekeeper for her, so you will be staying with me for the whole time. Fortunately you already received a solid foundation of useful skills by your Mother's wonderful upbringing. We will take this further and I will personally train you to be a ladies maid. I will also teach other important techniques you will need to keep my daughter from divorcing you."
She walked over to sit in the big comfortable chair in the corner of the living room.
"You see mandy, you really have every reason to be grateful, don't you? And I will make sure you show me that gratitude every single day. You will remain locked up for the whole duration of your time here and you will learn ways to bring a Woman pleasure that don't require your useless little thing."
"Now Before you say anything, I want you to think carefully what your first words to me should be. Remember, you have nothing right now. Your clothes are gone, so is your money, your ID, the car, the keys to your home as well as the ones to your chastity device. You have no place to go and your own Wife, your Mother and even your Sister support this approach. Nobody will help you. You are under my complete control, and there is nothing you can do about it."
She pointed at the floor in front of her. "Now I want you to come over here and get on your knees. We are going find out about your foot massage skills," she said as she crossed her legs.
Matthew stared in disbelief, as he still tried to wrap his mind around everything he had just been told.
Linda snapped her fingers. "Now!"
Matthew walked over to her in his painfully small pink velvet shoes, dressed in a frilly pinafore and little girl's headband. He dropped to his knees before his Mother in law's feet.
"You may give my heels a little kiss on the toe before you take them off, Mandy," she said.
"Thank you, Mrs. Rivers," he answered.

Sissy Husband: Wedding

 By Jans sissy sally

It all began the morning of the ceremony when instead of a tuxedo a different kind of suit was delivered to the hotel by mistake.
The suit's black velvet jacket had slightly puffed sleeves, was taken in at the waist and had a single polished gold button holding it together. It came with a shiny silk blouse, a ribbon bowtie around a ruffled collar and a tiny velvet veil cap with a large black bow. The pants were velvet hiphugger leggings.
There was no time to change it and cancelling the wedding was not an option for Jan. She was not joking when she told him he would wear either that suit or her dress instead.
Matthew had never felt so very embarrassed in his life no matter how many times Jan and Linda assured him that nobody would notice while they helped him to get him into the ensemble.
To make his body match the contoured clothes, nis Bride and Mother in Law made a combined effort to lace him into the provided waist cincher as tightly as possible. The fact that he was hardly able to breathe was casually ignored by each of them.
While they dressed him in the blouse and jacket Matthews Mother and Sister entered to say hello before the ceremony. They were affectionately welcomed by Jan and Linda and did neither seem to be shocked nor surprised by Matthews outfit.
His Mother gave him a pitiful look as if she had expected nothing else anyway, while his Sister remarked, "The shoes don't match little brother," looking at the black wingtips next to him on the floor. She was three years younger than him, but she always called him little brother ever since she outgrew him.
"The heels that came with the suit don't fit," Jan joked, "we already tried."
"What a shame," his Mother snidely remarked, "you could have been as tall as your bride, if she was wearing flats."
Everyone was excited by the idea and Jan assured him she wouldn't mind wearing low heels. When matthew attempted to point out that it could be him minding to wear heels, he was muted by a single "hush" of his Mother snapping her fingers and pointing at the floor. He immediately stopped talking and lowered his head. Jan and Linda gave her an impressed look.
"He can wear mine," his sister suggested to break the sudden moment of silence. "My size will fit him in hose."
"Is that a fact?" Lindas asked, obviously curious.
"Yes, I used to dress him up all the time when we were little... I mean HE was little" She chuckled at the thought "ever since i discovered my old dresses would fit him, he was like my favorite little doll to play with."
She sat down to take off her heels. They were beautiful black Louboutins with ankle straps.
"We had them for years. They used to be Mom's until I begged her long enough to give them to me."
"But they look like new," Jan marveled.
"Oh yes, all our shoes are very well maintained, aren't they matthew? He must have buffed and polished them a million times. Mom was always very particular about shoe care. I remember coming home so many times to find him standing sobbing in the corner with sore buttocks and nothing but a pair of heels on his feet that had failed to meet Her standards. He may even have worn these before."

Jan and Linda were absolutely fascinated by these revelations and the Women decided they would all get together one day and talk about how matthew grew up.
"He can prepare snacks and serve drinks, it will just be like the sunday afternoons with my bridge club," his Mother suggested while wrapping garters around matthews waist for the stockings he would need to wear with his Sisters heels.
"It may be be the only time in your life she is not looking down on you," Linda teased once they stood next to each other fully dressed.
The tight leggings ending above his ankles did nothing to hide the heels and the red sole served as the perfect eyecatcher.

"Now that he is wearing something old and something new, he will need something borrowed," his Mother said, taking off her pearl brooch and pinning it to his lapel. "And something blue!" his Sister added while she was attaching the little veil cap to his hair.
"Don't worry," said Jan, "he is already wearing something very blue," playfully clutching his crotch with a knowing smile.
The Women in the room all burst into laughter at the gesture and Matthews bowed head turned beet red.

Just before the ceremony they decided to change tradition and Matthew felt even more ridiculous and embarrassed as he staggered down the aisle next to his Mother, while Jan was waiting ahead in her wonderful traditional dress.
The heels made distinctive sounds on the chapels stone floor and he could hear amused whispering from the crowd.
Matthew was glad that it was a rather private wedding. There were only his Mother and Sister from his side of the family and all of Jan's attending friends were Women, most of them bridesmaids. The only other male was Linda's new boyfriend Mark. He was a tall handsome man, able to look down at matthew despite the heels and he was of course wearing a proper tuxedo. Since matthew did not have a best man, Linda simply decided that Mark would be perfect to fill in.
Since matthew had agreed to give up his last name and take Jan's the registrar pronounced them "Mr. and Mrs. Janyne Rivers" to the amused giggles of the attending.

The humiliations continued during the reception. Since matthew was not able to dance in heels, Jan was mostly dancing with Mark while her newly wedded husband would stand at the side watching them. He had been given the brides bouquet and pearl clutch to hold so they would not burden his Wife while she was swept over the dancefloor by a complete stranger.
At one point little Maddy the flower girl discovered that matthew was basically wearing the same outfit as the bridesmaids. The only difference was that their suits were in pink and came with pencil skirts instead of leggings. Once she pointed this out to virtually everyone matthew was occupied by the bridesmaids. He was included in all their group pictures, still holding the bouquet and purse. They had him sit with them at their table and gradually transformed him to match their look even more. Everyone, including Maddy, constantly took pictures of every stage, posting them on Facebook and tweeting them to their friends.
Once Jan eventually decided it was late, she found her husband in full Bridesmaid makeup with pink lipstick, pearl earrings clipped to his lobes and several strands of pearls around his neck.
Since there had not been taken a photograph of the young couple side by side, this was how Matthew ended up on their official wedding picture. A newly wed husband in a feminine suit, heels, makeup and jewelry on the side of his beautiful Wife Jan, who had changed back into her own heels in the meantime, being considerably taller than him.

As much as he would love to forget about the ceremony and the reception the wedding night was an even bigger embarrassment to him.
Matthew had not climaxed for more than six months prior and he hardly even had any erections ever since his proposal.
It had been Linda, his Mother in Law, who convinced him that it would be so romantic to vow chastity until the wedding. Jan had loved the idea and it may have even been romantic if they both had made the same pledge, but his fiancee did not even address that issue when she accepted his offer and he had to follow through with it all by himself.
When Jan caught him stroking in bed in the first week, she discussed the matter with her Mother and they decided Matthew was too weak willed for the challenge and it would be best to take measures to support him with his vow.
The same day they took him to an adult shop where he was fitted with a stainless steel chastity tube that would prevent not only touching but also any kind of erection. The sales Lady recommended to add a little padlock, if they suspected he could not be trusted with the device on his own. Since that was obviously the case he was locked into the device right then and there and both his Fiancee and Mother in Law would keep a key for "emergencies."

On the wedding night Jan had a special surprise for matthew. Before they celebrated their matrimony in bed she would make a rubber cast of his penis to remember the occasion.
The kit was a plastic tube filled with some kind of paste. His member instantly sprung into action the moment the device was removed. Jan took some baby oil and gently rubbed it in for protection. These few seconds of her hand stroking him was enough to take him to the edge. When he was instructed to push his member into the tube to make a mold he almost came, and barely managed to restrain himself.
It took the paste 30 minutes to set and Jan made him bring her to climax three times with his tongue to "pass the time". He had a lot of experience with that method because it was the only kind of sex they have ever had and Jan was very fond of it.
Even before he was locked in the device he had never been allowed to penetrate her.
When it was time to remove the tube he was still completely erect and it took some effort to pull it off. Jan twisted and turned the tube and the moment it eventually came loose the stimulation became overwhelming and matthew could not help but spurt a massive load all over the floor and Jan's feet.
His penis shrivelled up quickly when she looked at him in disappointment. He did not dare to object when She told him to lick it off her toes. He went down on his knees and cleaned her as good as possible with his mouth, then she left him to clean up the rest of his mess to take a shower.
When she came back Matthew was lying in bed stroking himself to an erection in anticipation. Jan thought he was masturbating and was furious. Without allowing him a word of explanation he was placed back into the device and told to sleep on the couch.
And that was the wedding night.

For a week Jan hardly talked to him and since he didn't want to address the issue matthew kept wearing the device.
He was very relieved when she started packing their bags for the honeymoon the other day. Everything would be alright. Four weeks in a first class hotel on Hawaii would make everything right. It had cost him a fortune, but right now it seemed even more worth the investment.
Nothing could go wrong now...