A NOTE REGARDING THIS STORY.

This is a fictional chronicle of a normal hardworking guy named Jack. The federal government made him an offer he couldn't refuse. All they asked was for Jack to go undercover to help the U.S. Government ensnare a terrorist.
Any resemblance of the characters depicted in the story to actual individuals is coincidental. All events are the sole responsibility of the author. None of the scenes in this story depict minors engaged in any sexual encounter.
This story has been previously posted on other sites. It is being posted here with a strong rewrite; some new chapters have been added. I had my BFF Monica Rose edit the material so it should be more readable. Marina
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Marina: [email protected]

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Chapter 3 – Unenthusiastic Commitment

The difference between involvement and commitment is like ham and eggs. The chicken is involved; the pig is committed.

Despite Jack's hangover, Rose forced him out of bed. Not a word was said about the previous night's activities. It was still the weekend and there were chores to get accomplished. Jack and Rose spent most weekends around their two-story suburban home doing typical household tasks.

Together the couple cleaned their modest three-bedroom home. Jack took sole responsibility for the basement den, which Rose called the dungeon. He also cleaned the entire main floor, to include the living room, guest powder room, the kitchen, and laundry room. Rose concentrated on the top floor with its master-bedroom suite.

She straightened the home office, and took special care as she dusted their family pictorial shrine. Her father and brother, a generation apart, both proudly displayed in their military uniforms. Her mother, a Peace Corps volunteer, was depicted smiling in some unknown village in southwest Asia. Jack's lone family portrait was a clan gathering around a Christmas tree in his native Russia. Rose finished her chore with a melancholy heart and then cheerfully dusted her Barbie collection in its glass and mahogany display case. When she finished, Rose spent several seconds staring at her prized collectable, her handmade, Malibu Kendra. As an afterthought, Rose touched up the guest room and bathroom.

It was a typical weekend with one anomaly, today Rose insisted on shopping by herself. A chore the couple normally performed together. Rose drove off on her mysterious shopping spree in their five-year-old Honda. Jack was left to clean their one-car garage. After that chore was done he took a nap on their divan. He was asleep when he was awakened by the sound of someone upstairs. Rose had returned from her shopping trip and was upstairs putting away her purchases.
She seemed in an extremely cheery mood, that evening. Jack grilled a pork roast and she prepared baked potatoes and a green salad. It was an early night; the couple fell asleep watching SNL on the bedroom flat screen TV.

Sunday morning was dedicated to gardening. While Jack mowed the lawn under the shade of the large gardenia bushes, Rose tended to her roses, begonias, violets, lilies and backyard vegetables. Her green thumb and hard work had turned her garden into the pride of the neighborhood - a horticultural showplace. Someday, the young couple hoped, they'd be able to start a family and make this house a home.

In the heat of the Florida afternoon sun, Jack and Rose retreated indoors. They enjoyed a delightful garden salad prepared by Rose. Jack, well supplied with his favorite iced tea, watched a ball game on the wide screen HD TV, while Rose surfed on the internet. Sunday was always movie night. The couple cuddled together, watched Steel Magnolias, ate popcorn and just relaxed, comfortable in each other's company. Sunday night they made long slow love. Rose used every trick she had learned over the years to ensure Jack's night was a memorable one. She did love him and wanted him to know it as he went through his upcoming crucible.

Monday morning was different and about to bring an earth-shattering transformation to Jack's life. As the volume on the clock radio got progressively louder, Jack opened his eyes to find a totally nude Rose staring at him with a dazzling smile. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, catching Jack by surprise. She whispered, "Good morning sleepy head. Get up, let's go rustle up some breakfast."

Jack glanced at the clock display. The red LED numbers said 8:00 am. Jack in a panic threw off the sheets and sprang out of bed. "Is that the right time? We're going to be late for work!"

Rose calmly strolled to retrieve her robe from the chair in front of her antique vanity, a hand-me-down from her mother. "Relax, I called the office and have taken the day off for both of us. We need to have a talk."

Jack was mystified. Rose and he had never done something like this before.

Jack, lost in thought, headed toward the bathroom for his normal morning ablutions wearing only his underpants. He stumbled over the pants he had thrown in the direction of the wicker hamper the night before.

Rose chastised her husband, "We don't live in a landfill, please pick up after yourself."

Just as Jack reached the bathroom door, Rose used her supervisor voice and froze him with the words, "Skip your shower. We have the day off, and I need to talk to you right now! And for God's sake put the toilet seat down when you're finished, if I fall in one more time you'll be sorry!"

Jack relieved himself and glanced nonchalantly into the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the bathroom door and checked his face. He ran his hand over his chin and thought, 'I really don't need to shave every day.' He searched for his bathrobe that normally hung in their large walk-in closet, but was unable to find it. Rose grabbed his hand and led him downstairs to the kitchen.

The bright Florida sun shone through the large double window over the sink. Rose poured two glasses of orange juice as Jack prepared a light breakfast of toast and coffee. As he waited for the coffee to perk, he gazed out to their secluded backyard. It was ringed on three sides by thick, dense gardenia bushes. Jack thought, 'That's the reason we bought this house. It's a yard made for kids.' His thoughts were interrupted when the toast popped.

Their normal weekday breakfast was eaten more as a drive by, as Rose and Jack gulped their breakfast seated at the Formica counter on their wood barstools. Every time Jack looked at the stools, it saddened him, because of the added cost they had to pass on the upholstered ones he wanted. Today Rose was in a more leisurely mood and lounged at the small two-person kitchen table, where she sipped her morning orange juice. Jack could see from her expression that she had something big on her mind. He wondered if his Friday night escapade might have something to do with it. He placed the light meal on the table along with cutlery, the sugar bowl and a tub of margarine.

Jack slid into the chair across from his wife and buttered his toast. He sensed something was awry. His normal chatty wife seemed subdued. What he failed to notice was her sleight of hand, as she casually dropped a valium tablet into his coffee as she reached for the sugar bowl.

Pulling her hand back, Rose smugly thought, 'He's going to require that and maybe a few more before this is over. By the time he figures out what is going on, it will be a fait accompli.'

Rose took a deep breath and became animated, her shoulder length red mane flapped about as she bobbed her head. Her words came out rat-a-tat-tat sixty miles an hour. "I had a visit from two government agents - a Phillips and Garibaldi. What they told me was disturbing. I waited all weekend for you to mention they contacted you. They were the ones you were with on Friday night. My God Jack what were you thinking, taking prospective clients to a strip club?"

Jack had a concerned look.

Rose noticed and commented, "What? You didn't think I'd find out? You come home late, smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume, and I'm just going to ignore it. You know me better than that. I called and had a long talk with Tiffany, and she gave you up in a heartbeat. We girls stick together.

"That was bad enough; but then I find out you refused to volunteer to help our nation fight terrorism. How could you not leap at the opportunity to support your country? They told me the government has thrown a ton of man-hours at this case. The whole thing can crumple because of you. I'm sadly disappointed by your actions. I need to understand what you were thinking!"

Jack felt his pulse beating in his temples. With a sense of impending doom, Jack sat in the hardback chair, wearing only his underpants, and munched on toast. Jack listened as his wife articulated all the reasons he should have immediately volunteered. Rose played Jack like a violin. She sat across from him at the table in only her silk dressing gown. She hadn't bothered to tie the robe. Every time Rose made a point, she tossed her hair and leaned forward and let her robe fall open, shamelessly displaying her generous bosom.

"I want you to change your mind and volunteer!"

Jack slumped in his chair. He felt he had been gut punched. He couldn't breathe. His blood raced so fast he could've entered it in the Daytona 500. Rose had the energy and enthusiasm of a Labrador puppy and the tenacity and determination of a Rottweiler. Jack knew he was in for a long morning.

Despite her best efforts to distract him, Jack concentrated on the issue at hand. He slowly dragged his eyes away from his semi-clothed wife and glanced out the window. He took a chance and responded with a scowl, "No way Rose. Their plan was idiotic. My lord, they want me to prance around like some Nancy boy. It would be unbelievably embarrassing. More to the point, it could be really dangerous. I'm never going out there risking my life while wearing a dress and that is my final answer!"

With a smile, Rose responded in a mischievous tone, "Oh, Jack, never say never!" Reaching into the kitchen drawer Rose retrieved a package of photographs. She arranged the photo gallery across the table and said, "For someone who is never going to wear a dress. How do you explain these? Ooh-la-la, look at that gorgeous gown. Sometimes a girl just likes to show off. You have been a very bad boy and kept so much about yourself hidden. Now it's all out in the open."

Jack had an emotional tsunami. He felt like he had been trapped in an elevator with an eight hundred-pound gorilla. He started to blubber. His tears flowed down his cheeks and dripped onto the table. "I…I swear that's not me. Please you've got to believe me."

Rose laughed at her husband's reaction, a laughter that was devoid of humor. Pushing the picture of the girl sucking a cock toward Jack she continued to torment him. "Aww, don't cry princess. Look closely, in this picture the only tears I see are ones of joy. It makes my heart ache to see you sad."

She maliciously let him stew in his self-pity. She dabbed up his salty tears from the glossy booklet with the sleeve of her robe and scolded her husband. "Damn it, you are going to spoil your prom picture. I'm going to have it framed. Now buck up. What has happened to my red-blooded Viking? Don't tell me, you are so insecure in your manhood that a little thing like a ball gown challenges it. My heavens, those Homeland Security agents only want you to make friends with some terrorist and play chess in a smock, heels and makeup. You haven't the balls to wear a dress? That's not the man I married."

Rose reached across the table and held his trembling hands. They were like ice. Jack, a broken man, sat with a frown creased forehead and pleaded. "Please believe me, I can't explain them, but those aren't me in the pictures."

Tiring of her little game, Rose said, "Oh Jack, of course it's not you. I'll admit they are good forgeries. Look at the last photo, the one Steve is so proud of, with 'you' touching up your lips. What hand is the girl using to hold the lipstick tube? The last time I looked you are left-handed, while the photo clearly shows the girl is using her right hand. Ergo – it is not you."

A relieved Jack looked at his wife with a newfound respect.

"But I'm prejudiced, because I know and love you. If these go public, I am not sure how many of our friends or business associates will believe your story. So we're going to have to appease those government agents. Trust me Jack, I'll be there for you and do anything to ensure these never get released."

Rose thought, 'That should do it, he will do anything I want now. I own him.'

"Those bastards promised me they wouldn't show those to you if I consented to help them."

"Well, I guess they felt your agreement, wasn't sincere. They came to me to ensure your wholehearted collaboration."

"I've always been a shy, dare I say an effeminate guy. I know it's only a dress, but let's be honest; clothes are a symbol of our place in society. I married a gorgeous, successful woman and for the first time other men looked at me with respect and envy. I'm just starting to experience a real connection with that role, and now they are asking me to switch sides."

Rose tittered at his reaction. "Don't be so homophobic, the government is not asking you to turn gay."

Rose held up the photo showing Jack's date receiving a blow job.

"No one will ask you to suck cock, unless you really want to that is. Your twin certainly seems to be enjoying the experience."

Jack sat up a little straighter seeing an opportunity. "Rose, maybe you'd like it; it if you'd gave it a try."

"Oh yuck, that's disgusting, it'll be a cold day in hell before I put some man's pee pole in my mouth."

Jack slumped back in his chair and frowned, "I don't understand; you expect me to go down on you almost every night."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I don't know. It just is."

Rose made a face like she had just had an inspiration. "If it means that much to you, put it on your Christmas wish list. Maybe one of Santa's elves will surprise you. If oral sex is so important, I will make you a deal. The day you get a pussy, I will spend an entire night with my head locked between your legs."

"Rose, that's not funny."

Rose closed her eyes and reflected to herself, 'It was not intended as a joke, I love him more than anyone I've ever known. I just need to transfer Jack's essence into a different shell – a feminine one and my life will be pure bliss.'

Her reverie was disturbed by, "Don't you understand? I'm scared to death. I am not the heroic type. Hell, the closest I ever came to being a hero was rescuing the neighbor's cat from our garage roof. What if anyone we knew saw me in drag? They'd ridicule me! Worst yet, what if something bad happened to me -- like I got beat up or even killed?"

"Well Jack, that's a chance we'll have to take!"

Jack thought, 'What's this, we stuff.' But he kept quiet and listened.

"Jack, how did we first meet?"

"In the cafeteria at school, you invited me to sit at your table."

"Actually it was weeks before that. It was at the Woman's Liberation Rally on the main quad. You didn't notice me. But as the only male there you stood out. I made it a point to find out about you after that. Honey, everyone I knew respected you for having the guts to show up for that rally. Every one of your acquaintances I interviewed said the exact same thing about you. You were a caring and good hearted person. You stand up for what you think is right regardless of the personal consequences. I know you respect women and woman rights. That tells me you can do this."

Jake mumbled, "Yeah right, I am woman hear me roar, I'll come across as a faint hearted drag queen. Not much to respect there."

Rose ignored his cynicism and went on, "My brother joined the Army and volunteered for service in the Gulf War, was wounded in action and then gave his life for this country. And you are worried about being embarrassed. Let me pass along some wisdom he told me about heroism. 'If a man does the most heroic act in the world and is not afraid, he is either a fool or crazy, not a hero. The true heroes are the guys who are so scared they are pissing in their pants and do it anyway'."

"Well Rose, put me in for the Medal of Honor because just thinking about this, and I've already soiled myself."

Rose hoped he meant figuratively, not literally. So mockingly, she taunted, "Boo hoo, Poor Jackie is afraid."

Jack was hurt. He fumed at her rebuke. He wanted his wife to respect him, not mock his lack of machismo.

Rose held one the first picture of the Jack doppelganger and her date and said, "You must admit that you have the potential to look like a very convincing woman. If this was you under the makeup and clothes no one would every question your gender."

She stood, gathered the pictures and slid them back into the open drawer. "We'll save these for posterity. The fact the government would go to so much trouble only tells us how important this operation is to them."

Rose walked around the small table and came up behind her husband. With a shimmy of her shoulders, the robe fell into a puddle on the linoleum floor. As she wrapped her arms around Jack, she pulled him to his feet and rubbed her assets against his bare back. She leaned in and gently licked his earlobe, "Forget about the blackmail, come on baby. I know…we're asking a lot of you. If you won't do it for your country, do it for me. Where is that guy I married? Despite your strenuous opposition, I pray there is a part of you that is willing to try this. There's no higher calling than defending your country. Most do it in uniform on the battlefield; all we're asking is for you to do it in a skirt and heels. If it makes you more comfortable I will ensure your first dress is in leopard print camouflage."

Jack squirmed as Rose's roaming hands caressed Jack's chest and lightly teased his little nubs of flesh. Rose moved her lips down to his neck and nibbled playfully. "Oh, I love your tiny teats and the way they stiffen when I roll them between my fingers."

Then completely out of character, Rose pushed the hardback chair out of the way and she dropped to her knees and spun Jack around. In one quick motion, she pulled his shorts down to his ankles. With her face at crotch level, Jack felt her breath on his manhood. She rubbed her hands over his buttocks and continued her argument with, "I will even get you your own supply of diapers, for those rare occasions when Jackie has to take on the scary boogeyman! If you will do it, I promise you will have fun, I know I will. Trust me on this one."

Jack thought, 'She's trying to manipulate me, and my Lord it's working.' His heart pounded, and his sausage rose.

Rose persisted with, "Think about all the lives you could be saving; doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Of course it matters. Couldn't someone else be the hero?"

"Nah! The government guy explained it to me. Out of the thousands of profiles they scrutinized, yours was the only one that was completely compatible with this particular terrorist. From what he said you might even become friends, isn't that exciting? All you will be doing is trading your sneakers for a pair of stilettos."

Rose clamped her hands firmly on Jack's buttocks and pulled him to the center of the kitchen. Despite her earlier condemnation of fellatio, her lips were now only millimeters away from his erection. She firmly kneaded her fingers into his butt checks. When Rose spoke Jack could feel her breath on his joy stick. It was making it extremely hard to concentrate.

"Come on; just say you will try this. Do it for me." Rose took one hand and gently cupped his balls and added, "And for our future children."

Jack groaned.

"The government has agreed to pay you a very generous salary while you are in training and undercover. They will hire you as a GS 11, thus we get all the standard benefits that come with government service that includes health care. That's over three times what you are making now. When you come home, we will have a very nice nest egg. Let's face it. You currently aren't making enough to pay our bills. If you don't take this deal, we could lose the house. Is that what you want?"

Although given the disadvantageous situation he was in, Jack was unwilling to relent. "Rose, please don't ask me to do this. There is my pride to consider, I will embarrass both of us. I'll appear a total fool."

"Jeez, Jack. Think back to those pictures, physically you can easily pass as a woman, you merely need to learn how to act and respond as one. I'll teach you. Don't have to be such a spineless wimp about it." Rose changed her gentle caress to a tight grip on Jack's balls, and she squeezed.

"Ouch, that hurts." Jack complained in distress. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Rose said, "I'm prepared to work with you on it." She squeezed him again, more firmly this time. "Are you willing to cooperate with me?"

The comment was more a demand than a question.

Jack felt breathless. There was a debilitating pain radiating from between his legs and a dull roaring in his ears. His mouth was dry. He shook his head defiantly and responded, "No. I can't!"

Rose continued to apply pressure. Jack groaned in agony as Rose used his nuts as a pull toy and forced Jack towards the kitchen table.

Rose had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. She watched her hubby, with a look of angst and fear on his face, as he shuffled the few feet to the table, his ankles effectively shackled by his underpants.

She hung onto his boys, and used her other hand to reach up to the tabletop. She accidentally knocked over her empty coffee cup as she dipped her fingers into the butter dish and scooped out a handful of margarine. Rose released his balls and firmly but gently wrapped her fingers around his shaft. Then, in a double-fisted motion, she coated his woody, ensuring his penis was thoroughly lathered in the lard. She now had Jack's full attention as she pumped several slow, steady strokes. Rose directed his prick towards her mouth and stuck her tongue out and licked the head of his penis, capturing a droplet of pre-ejaculate that had been blended with the margarine.

Rose leaned back on her haunches and lightheartedly said, "I can't believe it's not butter." Rose switched to the one-hand technique. She pumped up and down while she now lovingly cradled his testicles with her other hand. She yanked his noodle and gave Jack the hand job of his life. Rose studied Jack's face and waited until he was on the verge of an orgasm. She cruelly stopped and asked again if Jack would participate in the operation. Jack resisted.

Rose gave him two more enthusiastic pumps, then again, paused. Desperate for release, Jack blushed, lollipop red and dropped his eyes to the floor. In a squeaky voice, he agreed and said, "Yes, I'll do anything, just don't stop." With a final full-length pump, Rose gave Jack the euphoric release he so desperately needed.

Jack erupted and sprayed his joy juice everywhere. The first squirt was significantly more forceful than was customary and caught Rose by surprise. As the stream flew toward her face, she had to use her athletic reactions to duck the stream's trajectory. Irritatingly the ejaculate landed on top of her head. Annoyed at the mess in her hair, Rose used her hands and captured as much of his man juice as she could. With her hands soaked in a mélange of semen and margarine, she stood and celebrated, "Oh darling thank you thank you, thank you so much!" She smothered his face with small butterfly kisses, "We won't regret this. I promise - everything will be fine!"

In retribution for the mess in her hair, Rose cleaned the gooey glob from her hands as she seized Jack by the head and used the concoction like mousse and styled his hair in a faux Mohawk. Watching Jack stand there with his spiked hair and gunk running down his face, Rose ordered, "Jack, I like the new look but now is not the time to experiment with new hairstyles, we need to save that for our first trip to the salon. Clean up this mess you made and don't forget to put the butter back into the fridge. Then join me in the shower. Just hurry, we're burning daylight. I have plans! Don't drip that gooey gunk on my clean carpet!"

What she thought was 'Martha Stewart, welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.'

Jack turned to the sink for a drink of water and stumbled, his underpants still around his ankles. He struggled out of his shackles and cleaned up the kitchen. He noticed the microwave clock and realized it was only 9 am. 'Oh my, time flies when you are having fun.'

He joined his wife in the shower, whose setting temperature was set to a hot, steamy sauna. The shower head hissed out a pounding spray. With his back to the shower head all of the tension seemed to slip away with the water that flowed down the drain.
Rose used her herbal shampoo to wash her hair then used it on her husband. After the final rinse, with soap still stinging his eyes Rose turned off the water and reached for the new bottle of 'Nair for Men' depilatory cream she had strategically hidden behind her conditioner. Rose lathered Jack's face with it. The leftover residue she casually wiped all over his chest.

Jack grabbed the bottle, wiped the soap from his eyes and read the label. "What the hell are you doing?"

To placate her nervous husband Rose said, "Relax honey, as a blond, you have never looked like a big hairy ape, but sometimes you do often remind me of a golden retriever. I'm doing you a favor. This will just remove those 'manly' whiskers. It will do a better job than shaving, and no more nicks and cuts from the razors. Wait ten minutes and then wash it off. Don't get dressed, just towel off."

Rose gracefully slipped out of the shower and thought, 'That will eliminate his peach fuzz for weeks, and when it grows back it will be even softer.'

Jack meekly consented as Rose closed the shower door. She headed for the walk-in closet. She dug out the shopping bag full of the items she had purchased yesterday. She carefully staged each item. Rose had orchestrated everything so today would forever seal her husband's fate.

As Jack waited the required time, he reluctantly admitted to himself his curiosity had been piqued. He was tempted by the security of a government job and its financial rewards. However his thoughts were dominated by how to get out of this with his dignity intact.

Additional doubts resurfaced when he realized that if he left the company, he would be abandoning his wife to the unobstructed clutches of the vile pig.

Rose waited impatiently at the bathroom door, provocatively dressed in her prettiest turquoise baby doll nightgown. She trapped Jack as he left the shower and continued to press, "Come on. Stop stalling. You gave your word! Let's give this a try." As she handed Jack a towel.

Rose said earnestly, "You can quit anytime you want, scouts honor. I promise!" As she displayed the three-finger Girl Scout Salute, with one hand and crossed her fingers behind her back with the other.

A reluctant Jack agreed. "Okay, as long as I can stop if things get too weird. I'll give it a try!"

Rose leapt at Jack, grabbed his hand and led him towards the dresser, saying, "Let's get started."

Rose then made what she hoped was a prophetic statement, "Before I'm done. I am going to turn you into a beautiful looking woman, and you are going to love it."

Jack summarily dismissed her remark and said, "That isn't what I want. I've never had a Cinderella complex!"

Rose, her face flushed with excitement, ignored the comment. She opened her panty drawer and grabbed the item stashed on top. She held up a pair of white thong bikini panties, trimmed in lace. A jubilant and domineering Rose said, "Here honey, this low-rise spandex thong is just for you. The awkward part will be you getting used to the fact that it will be wedged between your cheeks. But just try to ignore the momentary discomfort, you'll adjust quickly. They have the sweetest mix of mesh, lace and nylon. I just adore the little pink bow in front, don't you?"

Jack stood and stared at the peace of fluff Rose held out to him. He shook his head no.

In a commanding voice Rose said, "Well in truth, your opinion doesn't matter. You will wear it anyway!"

'Could this really be happening,' thought Jack.

Rose said firmly, "Step into this Jack. No more tightie whities for you." Jack looked her in the eyes and could tell she wasn't joking. Jack hesitated; he recognized that if he stepped into the feminine garment, nothing would ever be the same again.

Rose sensed Jack's reluctance as she stuffed the thong into Jack's hand. Jack immediately shot the panties at her face like a giant rubber band. Rose was miffed and tossed them back with an acid warning, "I wasn't kidding!"

The humiliation of the situation made Jack want to wilt. In an attempt to retain some sense of masculinity Jack said. "Sorry Sweetheart, I'm not some panty-boy." Jack tossed the panties back to her yet again.

Rose got into a bit of a huff. She responded with a touch of sarcasm, "For God's sake Jack, don't be a panty-waist. They are nothing more than a female equivalent of a jockstrap. I'm not trying to usurp your manhood. We are simply exploring the possibility of you being presentable. I once made an almost exact replica of these for my Ken…I mean Barbie doll. You are going to cooperate and be my full size dress up doll, aren't you?"

Rose opened the thong to expose the interior and then laid it on the floor. "Now honey, just step into the open leg holes. I will adjust it to the correct height and pull up the backside until the bum strap is positioned perfectly."

Jack hesitantly rose one foot and stepped into the garment. He felt that somehow this action was tantamount to surrendering any future claim he had on being a man.

Slowly Rose pulled the lacy garment up his legs. Her fingertips mischievously tickled his inner thighs as she raised the thong. Once she reached the calf, she paused and gazed up into her husband's face. Jack was beginning to fidget. His eyes focused on the delicate article that fettered his legs. Rose slid them up over the knees to his thighs, where Rose encountered an obstacle.

She forced Jack's legs a little wider, which held the panties in place and exposed his crotch. Rose reached up to his ball sack. With a firm yet velvet touch, she maneuvered his tender stones back into their man cave. Jack groaned. Rose again looked at her husband, now he stood frozen in place, his chin down and eyes closed tight. Rose reached up to his white-hot erection and gave the head a quick back-handed flick. The firm ramrod quickly became silly putty. Rose pulled his limp prick back between his legs. As she held it there, she pulled up and positioned the thong.

Jack gasped as the thong caressed and held him, briefly. Jack's senses responded to the delicate touch of the nylon and blood again pumped to his one-eyed milkman. Unfortunately, for Rose the delicate piece of fluff was not strong enough to retain Jack's newly engorged manhood. It swelled back to its natural position. The bulge pushed the panties out of shape.

'Alright' thought Rose, 'He wants to play that way let's try this.' Rose reached through the leg hole and grabbed several pubic hairs and yanked a handful out by the roots. After Jack stopped screaming, Rose again positioned his deflated member. Before she could get to her feet, Jack's member again rose from the dead just like Lazarus.

Conceding defeat, Rose came up with plan B. Rose thought, 'There's more than one way to hide his thingy.' Then, with just her fingertips, she delicately danced up and down the length of his cock as it nestled in its silky prison.

Jack gasped for air at this point, his heart wildly pounded in his chest. Rose felt his balls contracting and purred, "Now cum for me sweetie." She chanted.

Then he crooned a long, drawn out, "Ooooh."

Rose smiled contentedly, as Jack had his second eruption of the morning. Rose reached into Jack's panties, scooped up a handful of spunk, and brought it to Jack's mouth. Chuckling she said, "Sweet cheeks, you made the mess so you have to clean it up. Be a good girl and open wide for your serving of man jam, Bon appétit my darling."

Jack welded his lips closed and steadfastly refused. So in retribution Rose wiped a large glob on Jack's lips. She cupped the remains in her hands and nonchalantly walked the ten feet to the bathroom and washed her hands in the sink. Jack was left standing in their bedroom wearing only this wet thong. He wiped the residue from his lips, but a salty taste remained. Jack felt very awkward and embarrassed knowing that he had secretly enjoyed Rose's little game. The warm sticky quickly became cold and slimy.

As Jack stood there, adrenaline rushed through his body as the primitive neurological response of fight or flight took hold. His wife for whatever reason was attacking manhood. As he saw it, he had two possible responses. One was to say no and fight her, the other was to run. Leave her and call the marriage quits. The latter option was unthinkable, not only did he love her but where would he go and how would he live. Fighting her certainly wasn't an attractive option. Rose always got what she wanted – hell the Christians in the Coliseum had a better chance against the lions. That left capitulation as the only option.

Rose returned and threw the damp hand towel into the hamper. She stared at Jack for a long moment. Jack felt the heat in his face and shifted his weight back and forth in nervous anticipation.

Then Jack asked politely, "Rose may I please remove this wet panty. It is really clammy and uncomfortable?"

In an authoritative tone, Rose told Jack to look in the left hand drawer and take out the items on top. Jack opened the drawer and saw a black lace bra and matching panties. Jack picked up the bra with just two fingertips and hooked the panties with his little finger. Jack questioned his wife. "Rose, you can't be serious. This is what you want me to wear?"

"Yes, it is one of my old bra and panty sets. If you stretch it out, it won't matter. Put those things on and we'll see where it leads us. Be a good boy and do what I say."

Jack dangled the bra at eye level with just his two fingertips. The panties hung from his little pinky. As the bra twisted, he closely examined the feminine device and noticed the price tag still on it, which read '34 D pushup bra with extra padding.'

Jack thought to himself, 'She must think I'm an idiot. Why would a woman with a 36 D chest ever need a padded pushup bra?'

Rose responded in her best authoritative voice, "Do it now Jack, I'm tired of waiting!"

Jack dropped the panties at his feet and stepped into them after ridding himself of his wet ones. He sheepishly pulled them up, and tucked his deflated sausage between his legs.

Rose wanted to laugh at Jack's efforts to fasten the bra but knew that would be counterproductive, so she provided advice and directions as needed. "Jack, the easiest way to put on a bra would be to hook it in the front and spin it around. However, let's practice the big girl fashion. Put your arms through the straps, grab both hook and eye ends, position the cups at nipple level and twist your arms around behind your back. Drag the ends across each other. You will feel when they catch."

Rose watched in amusement as Jack arched his back, floundered, and fumbled about with the straps. Jack wrestled with the two elasticized bands that seemed to have a mind of their own. Rose tittered quietly at his antics and offered more advice. "That's it, move your right end up a little and now to the left, feel the hooks and slide them into the eye loops."

It got so bad Jack developed a cramp in his neck and both arms. He pleaded for help. Eventually, she took pity on him. She stood behind him and fastened the brassiere firmly in place using the tightest settings.

Rose watched the bra dig into his skin and thought, 'I got a band size too small. I want Jack to be constantly aware he has on a bra, comfortable is not in my agenda.'

Standing tight against his back Rose reached around her husband. She ran her hot palms over the cool and smooth bra cups. She nuzzled into his neck and softly said, "Doesn't the combination of constriction and softness feel nice?"

Jack nodded a consolatory yes, much to Rose's delight. At that moment, Rose knew she was never going to allow him to give up his girlie side. Then Rose slid her hands under his bra cups and lightly tweaked his nipples. Rose's excitement was infectious. She felt his heart wildly pounding in his chest and his nipples respond. Using her body she shoved Jack closer to her dresser. She used her legs to force his thighs open, which gave her unfettered access to his boy clit. With one hand, she caressed his tiny breast, slid her other hand lower, reached between his spread legs, and aggressively grabbed at his organ. She rubbed at his sex but found it not yet ready to fully respond. Rose forced Jack up tight against the dresser. She reached into the open drawer and withdrew two silicone pads she had hidden there.

"Jack, since your little boobies don't fill out my bra, let me help with these." Rose slowly slid the breast enhancers into Jack's bra. Once in place, Rose hoisted and bounced the breasts with both hands and said, "Very feminine, what do you think Jack?"

Rose was thinking, 'I can't wait to see my hubby decked out with a full set of Baywatch boobs.'

Jack looked down at his chest and only saw two nicely rounded mounds. He blushed as his member started to swell and Rose slid one hand back to Jack's groin and said, "It would seem you agree."

Jack's eyes went wide as Rose played with his silicone breasts and teased his cock back to life.

"My beautiful wife," Rose whispered seductively into his ear. Her knees forced his thighs further apart. Jack felt her fingers probe between his thighs...she stroked him, as though he were a girl! And his body loved it!

Rose thought 'OMG, He is getting hard again. Jack has never responded that quickly, even on our honeymoon. By this time tomorrow Jackie will be on his way to becoming what the government needs, and the foundation of my future wife.'

Rose grabbed quick glances at him through glazed eyes. The sight of her husband as he writhed in ecstasy thrilled her. She had enjoyed numerous lesbian adventures at school, but this was better by far. She sensed, accurately, that it was the power, her absolute control over what was happening to another human being, which stimulated her. It suddenly occurred to Rose that if Jack could indeed be made to accept the role of the wife...then it followed that she as the husband would have total control. Not just of their sex life, over the household chores, their finances, and in every other aspect of their lives, she even planned on taking full control of the TV remote.

Rose began to work her hips and pelvis urgently. Her mouth closed over Jack's ear and neck. Rose bit hard on Jack's earlobe. She jerked her hips against him and rode the back of his leg. She closed her eyes and imagined that she really was making love to a woman! Lost in a fantasy world where she was a man, Rose brought both hands up, slid them under the bra, and cruelly kneaded Jack's breasts. His moans fanned her desire to a fever pitch. Her groin slammed against his helpless body. The knowledge that she was hurting him...that he accepted it, caused her lust to boil over. With one last frenzied, convulsive lunge, she climaxed and collapsed satisfied and exhausted against his body.

A disconcerted Jack watched his wife's expression in the dresser mirror. Her eyes sparkled. She returned Jacks stare, but her eyes were unfocused. Her mind was obviously a million miles away.

Fearful of regression, Rose pulled him close. "Darling, tell me it was good for you too."

Rose saw the shame, confusion and doubt in his face.

"Rose, this isn't normal. Look at me. I look and feel ridiculous!"

She knew what she had to do. "Shush, sweetheart, that's my whole point. You'll see."

She told him firmly. "Normal is way over rated. You look and feel wrong because you look like a man in a bra and panties! However, if you wore your hair differently, if your face was made-up properly, and if you let me show you how to become a real woman..., then you'd look and feel like one. Aren't you willing to at least try?"

Jack groaned to himself and reached for the bra to pull it off and said, "I'm sorry. I can't do it,
I won't do this!"

Her response struck like a whip. She barked, "Don't you dare touch that! Now I've been very patient with you, but enough is enough. You've given your word to me and to the government. We're going to finish dressing you. It'll make all the difference. Do be a doll and don't fight me on this."

Rose thought, 'An ocean is created by many drops. When he comes home from his grand patriotic adventure, I know I can mold him into a trophy wife. The trick is how do I get him to want that? I'll see if those government guys can provide any suggestions.'

Once he is there I'll ensure he comes to love it. There are so many things two women can do to pleasure each other. We'll explore each and every one of them.

Jack released his grip on the bra clasps, and Rose jumped with glee and said, "This is just like when I was a little girl and played dress up with my dolls."

Rose hummed to herself, as she waded into her closet, and headed to the very back where she had staged Jack's new dress. Her heart raced in anticipation of what was about to unfold.

"What is Mademoiselle going to wear?" To keep up the façade that this wasn't all preplanned. Rose held up dress after dress, Rose whined, she couldn't find anything that would fit her husband. Rose finally dug to the very back of her closet.

"Great." Again for Jack's benefit she said sounding sarcastic. "The only thing I have that might even come close to fitting you is this old knit yellow dress with big white buttons up the front. The knit will stretch to fit your frame. It is amazing; I think we wear about the same size dress." Rose said with a devilish little smile.

Jack gave Rose a skeptical look. His intuition radar was again going off. He was not the largest guy, but no way was he the same size as his wife.

Rose tripped over dresses that had fallen on the floor and stumbled out of the closet with the dress.

"How does your underwear feel, sweetheart?"

"Uncomfortable, can I please take them off?"

Rose answered with a firm "No!"

She handed the dress to Jack. "Please put this on for me, and I will fasten you up."

Jack countered with a pout but conceded the inevitable. He stepped into the dress. He wiggled and squirmed until he got the dress up and slid his arms into the arm holes. Rose drew her husband towards her and playfully closed the front of his dress as she accidentally rubbed his swollen manhood as she moved from button to button.

As she slid her hand over his firm member, she observed, "My my, it appears that despite your protestations, someone is enjoying this. It seems you really like your new underwear. Is my hubby wobbly, winking his pretty panties? Do they feel good on his wittle weenie?"

Before a flustered Jack could respond, Rose stood and headed for the closet where she rummaged through some boxes on the top shelf and continued with, "Hot damn, I still have this wig from last year's Halloween party. Remember I went as Artemis, the female warrior goddess of fertility. Jack, you were adorable in those green tights as Peter Pan. This hairpiece will be your crowning glory. It's a good natural looking wig, with long blond sexy, bouncing curls, and straight bangs. It's just not the best wig out there. I picked it up used, on Ebay, but it is good for a start."

Rose adjusted the wig and used her fingers to untangle the long curls. "I love the way the long hair frames your face and the white color brings out the blue of your eyes."

Rose thought, 'Oh, I wish I had extra money in my checking account, but for now I'll have to make do with what I have. When the windfall arrives, I'll get him, the best human hair wig I can find. We can move his male clothes into the spare bedroom to make room for his new wardrobe. I'm going to open a Nostrums credit card just for him.'

Rose stood back and critically examined her creation. She couldn't help herself; she softly sniggered.

Jack responded with anger, "Rose. This is hard enough on me already. I told you I would look ridiculous."

"Au contraire, mon ami. When we get done you will be stunning. I promise."

"Rose, why is this so important to you, why do you want to see me in a dress?"

"Careful Jack, are you sure you want to ask that? You may not like the answer. Let's just say its fun playing with you as my dress up doll. I've been doing this kind of thing, since I was a little girl. As far back as I can remember my mother gave me dolls to play with. There were doll clothes, baby buggies, play dishes, pots and pans - all done in an effort to mold me into her idea of a woman. Much to her sorrow, I never went through the extreme princess phase. In fact, I marched into my first day of preschool in my favorite pinstriped overalls and carried a GI Joe lunchbox, which I had talked my dad in getting for me. He always was a sucker for a few tears."

"For my mother, my ‘tomboy’ phase was a crisis. She totally freaked out when we were reading Cinderella, I made the comment I didn’t like the Cinderella character. I would rather be one of the dominant stepsisters."

Jack shrugged and thought his wife truly was unique, no one ever rooted for the stepsisters.

"As part of her brainwashing efforts my mother decided I needed to progress from standard baby dolls to Barbie. My first Barbie doll really freaked me out. It was I think my 10th birthday party. I just looked at it and thought, 'What would Gloria Steinem say?' So I marched right up to my mother and criticized her selection of present. I threw the doll on the floor and objected about the dolls ridiculous dimensions. I told her I had read that if Barbie were a real woman she would have been an impossible 38-18-34. I told Mom the doll was a freak of nature. I lectured Mom; no real woman is made like that!"

With a gloomy far-off look, Rose continued. "Two weeks later my Mother and I took a road trip to a visit an old friend of hers. I was flabbergasted this woman stood 5'7, had a 30-inch waist, and a significant F cup bust that she insisted was not artificially enhanced. I had to concede that round to my mother."

"My mother wouldn't give up. So I took things in my own hands. I demanded that for every Barbie doll I receive, I get a Ken doll as its mate. Being a feminist zealot from a very early age, I resented being forced into all the fluff of the girly girl. My mother became obsessed with my gender identity, and we had long drawn out fights over her attempt to enforce gender bias on me. She was always asking me to play house. I did, but what she didn't know was that in my mind, I always played the husband not the wife. By the time I was in my teens, my mother, and I were constantly squabbling over a female's position in modern society. In 7h grade, I was suspended from school because I came to class wearing a t-shirt that read Girls Rule, Boys Drool."

"I had taught myself to sew and spent time off from school making outfits for my Ken dolls. I exchanged all the dull man attire for Barbie's clothes. I even learned to make little tiny Brassieres and g-strings. Well actually, little is a relative term. I always insisted the faux-Barbie's dimensions be more impressive than the girl dolls. Every Ken had a wardrobe of Micro-Mini dresses and tight tops. I even managed to assemble a large collection of wigs for my guys."

"My lord Rose, they don't sell wigs for dolls that size," said an astonished Jack.

"I know. I would go to the thrift shop, and for pennies pick up old broken dolls. I simply cannibalized these dolls and scalped them. With a set of oil paints for makeup, I doubled my Barbie collection."

"Rose did you and your mother ever reconcile?"

"No, the straw that broke the camel's back was when she accused me of being a feminist. I set her straight when I told her, in no uncertain terms, I was NOT a feminist! Feminists believe all men and woman are equals, when, in fact, men are the inferior of the species. I calmly explained that females are smarter and more evolved."

"To bring me around to the correct way of thinking my mother checked a Jane Austen book out of the library for me to read. The next day I exchanged it for a biography of Joan of Arc. That totally freaked out Mom."

"Rose, are you telling me you feel demeaned being the wife and homemaker?"

"The answer to your question is no. In today's society, there most definitely is a role for the dutiful housewife."

Jack was confused at this evasive response.

Rose thought as she lovingly stroked Jack's silk clad buttocks, 'It's just that I have plans for someone else to star in my production of the Stepford Wives.'

Rose instructed, "Now, Ken walk for me, I want to see how it hangs on you."

Jack hesitated and mumbled, "My name is Jack."

Rose wrinkled her brow and blithely dismissed his concern and said, "Jack, I gave you something to do! Why don't you go do it? You know when I set my mind on something I always get my way!"

Jack shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

A crestfallen Jack agreed to try it. Pointing to the bulge in his groin Jack said, "Rose, I'm ashamed at my reactions and feel guilty dressed like this. I will do it. However, please leave me some dignity and let me do it in private, just until I adjust to the feel of the silk panties."

Jack was lost in thought. He hated to admit it but there was some deep-seated pleasure he received from basically giving himself over to Rose. He knew as a man, he had to maintain the façade of objections. But in reality, he was beginning to enjoy this game.

Rose breathed a deep sigh of relief and fought to hide her glee. She left the room before she lost her composure. Rose mused over how easily she had gotten her husband into a bra, panties and a dress. Through the crack in the door, Rose spied on her husband. She watched him parade around in his dress. The dress flowed around Jack. The hem limited his steps. Jack tottered about the room as he couldn't take full steps, unless he hitched it up in a very feminine gesture. Jack repeatedly pulled the dress away from his manly bulge as he tried to conceal it.

Jack stared at his reflection in the full-length mirror and, to his utter amazement. The dress almost fit. He was mortified by the fact he enjoyed the experience and couldn't get his erection to subside. As a man he knew that was wrong. He stood there for a few minutes turning this way and that, posing in front of the mirror. Jack thought, 'I've given up my dignity, what more can she ask of me?'

Rose tiptoed into the room, holding an extra firm panty girdle, and came to an abrupt halt and stared at her husband watching him checking out his ass in the dress. She could keep a straight face only for an instant before she broke into a wide grin.

A thoroughly mortified Jack summed up a most inauspicious blush and hissed, "Please don't ridicule me."

Rose simply glared at her blushing husband, "Jeezus, I see Jack the jerk is back! I didn't say a word. From where I'm standing it actually doesn't look too bad if you discount the very unladylike bulge in the groin and the armpit hair. In fact, when I look at you, I see the potential for a busty bimbo."

Rose asked coyly, "Does my lovely virgin bride like what he sees?"

Embarrassed beyond belief, Jack was incapable of speech, and could only shamefully nod, yes.

Regaining his composure, Jack tried to sound assertive. "I said I would try this. But enjoyable or not, it's a onetime thing. It ends today."

In response Rose arched an eyebrow and said demurely, "Once is all I'm asking."

But what she thought to herself was. 'I don't think so.'

Jack tried several times to hide his discomfort. The frilly little panties weren't strong enough to contain his excitement. Rose handed Jack the foundation garment and stood back to watch and said, "Jack this is the ultimate full support panty girdle. Happiness is a flat front and a firm uplifted derrière."

"Rose I've never seen you wear a girdle."

"Nah, too much trouble but I hear the results can be quite spectacular, now put it on!"

Jack held up his dress and stepped into the uncompromising garment like a pair of bicycle shorts. He pulled, wiggled, tugged, and strained to get it up.

Rose slid her hand down the front panel and again tucked his man parts out of view. With a final two-handed tug, she pulled the garment snug. Rose saw her husband's groin look as smooth as a Ken doll. This transported her back to her childhood. The memories were still so fresh. She actually raised one hand to her mouth to hide her smile. Next she repositioned the wig, and adjusted it properly on Jack's head. With her fingers, she again brushed it to get the snarls out. She took a step back and closely examined her creation. Rose wrinkled up her brow and lightly fingered the armpit hair hanging out of the dress sleeves. Rose blithely pronounced, "Well one thing is apparent. We have a major deforestation project to undertake."

With a good-humored tone, Jack lifted his hands over his head in mock surrender, looked at his armpits and said, "Hell Rose, It looks like we'll need a lumberjack."

Rose snickered at the small joke.

"Sweetheart, I want to be a real American hero as much as the next guy, nevertheless, I'm terrified of doing it in a dress. Rose, I am just a dyslexic, computer geek. I don't know anything about being a hero or a girl, for that matter! Besides its 'wrong' for guys to look and act like women, we just aren't shaped the same way."

Jack ran his hand down his sides and grabbed the love handles that overhung from the top of his girdle. Playfully, Jack said, "Rose, look how pathetic I come across. This is never going to work unless we can do something about my muffin top!"

Rose, smiled and said, "My poor Jackie is brilliant about some things, and so naive about others. Sweetheart, we're only getting started, let's give it some time. You'll make a better woman than most who were born to it."

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After several minutes of lighthearted protest, that lacked any sincerity Rose tugged Jack to her makeup table. Excitedly Rose proclaimed, "We're going to spend the day primping and preening. It is going to be a ball, I promise."

Commitment is an act, not a word. Jean-Paul Sartre

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