INTRODUCTION
My great idea was born on a lazy Sunday night when my husband and I were curled up on the couch watching a rerun of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. It was one of the early episodes, before Olivia became a star and she still looked like a real dyke. My husband, Jack, was clearly lusting after her. This wasn’t a real surprise, because he often gets the hots for women on TV and I make no apologies for fantasizing about any number of guys on my living room screen. What struck me, though, was how many of the women Jack seemed to like were, well, butch.

So I decided to play with him a little bit, stroking his hair, caressing his chest, tweaking his nipples — nothing below the waist. He starts squirming so I get a little bolder, nibbling his ear, running my fingers along his thigh. It didn’t take long before he began to respond and pretty soon we’re upstairs, forgetting all about Olivia and whatever case she was working. I made sure I took the lead, only this time did a couple of things he wasn’t expecting, like pushing him down on the bed and covering his mouth with my pussy, or lying on top of him and spending several minutes sucking and kissing his nipples.

Pretty soon, I was on top with him inside me, but he was moaning “fuck me, fuck me,” so I did. I rode him hard until I came -- hard. And when I did, I quivered like crazy which made him explode in me. We just lie there together for a few minutes, until his cum dribbled out of me all over his cock and hair. I grabbed my panties from the bed and tossed them at his face, telling him laughingly to clean up.

Now every once in a while we had done a little crossdressing to spice things up. After all, Jack looked really cute in my panties, even if they were a size too small and you should see him in my pale green baby doll nightie! But what happened next was pretty different. This was the last day of my period and the pantiliner in the panties had a little staining. When Jack began to clean himself up, he got hard as a rock almost right away. It was amazing! We went at it all over again right away, but I couldn’t let all this slip away. Someday, somehow, this was going to be useful.

THE FOUNDATION
Jack’s birthday is in early December. After a Labor Day weekend that involved way too much barbecue and way too much beer for the both of us, I suggested that we both needed to go on a diet. Jack agreed, but didn’t seem all that enthusiastic. I upped the stakes a little by making it into a contest. Whoever won, or lost the most weight between now and December 1, would be entitled to a no holds barred shopping spree at Macy’s. Whoever lost, would have to wear an item of apparel chosen by the winner, no questions asked.

It was soon clear, however, that Jack wasn’t taking this at all seriously. I managed to peel off a good ten pounds by Thanksgiving and if Jack was weighing himself, he was doing it when I wasn’t around and there didn’t seem to be a whole lot of changing to his waistline. On December 1, we had our weigh-in and, as I expected I would, I won. I just smiled and waved my Macy’s credit card. He then asked my timidly what his penalty was going to be.

“I’ve given this a great deal of thought,” I said smugly. “I think since you’ve turned into such a little tubby, that you really need a girdle, and I’ll really need to help you pick it out.” You should have seen the expression on his face. He wasn’t really all that tubby. He’s about five-ten and fairly well built, but he has been adding a little more around his middle than he should have. But when he learned he’d have to wear a girdle to settle his bet — that was priceless.

So that Saturday was his birthday rolled around, I suggested (without mentioning his birthday) that we go out for the day. I told him we were going to do a little shopping and have a nice lunch, and that may have gotten him to thinking that a birthday surprise of some sort was in order. Neither of us was wearing anything fancy — I had a denim skirt that may have been a bit shorter than usual, tights, a sweater and flats. He wore his navy blue sweater with silver horizontal stripes and light colored chinos. Perfect.

We drove into town and parked. When I said shopping earlier, I know he probably thought mall but the town shopping center was better for what I had in mind. After leaving the car, I led the way down the street to the non-descript storefront of Celeste’s Foundations. It was an old-fashioned bra and girdle shop, the kind that they usually don’t have anymore, but Celeste’s had been doing business here for a couple of generations and was still live and kicking. The window was full of bras, girdles, nightgowns and swimsuits on dusty mannequins, signs from breast form and bridal wear manufacturers.

I saw Jack’s face reflected in the window. He was a mixture of confusion and fear. I leaned over in his year and whispered, “Your first birthday present is the girdle I promised. There will be more later.”

There weren’t any other customers in the shop just then and a girl in her 20s looked up and asked if we needed some help. She was dressed similar to me, except that her skirt was much shorter, her sweater much tighter and I didn’t have a streak of lime green in my hair or a stud in my nose.

I stepped to the counter and said “Yes, please. My husband Jack, here, is a crossdresser and I want to show Jackie that getting dressed up involves more than putting on pretty panties. I think I want to teach him a little lesson, you see.”

Well Jack was about to die. I’m sure he thought that I’d buy the girdle, he’d slink around in the background and that we’d leave. I, on the other hand, wanted to have some fun.

“So,” I continued, “at the minimum we’re looking for a really firm girdle and we’ll see what happens from there.”

The salesgirl smiled. “No problem,” she said. “My mom, who runs this place, is out on some errands but she’ll be back soon. In the meantime, I can get us started. Do you have any specific idea of what you want?”

“Jack, honey,” I said sweetly, “what did you want?”

He blushed furiously and mumbled “a girdle.”

“There’s lots of different kinds,” the salesgirl smiled. “I’ll give you some options to think about.” She scurried about behind the counter and pulled out four different panty girdles in different designs and colors and laid them across the counter. “Something like this?” she asked me.

I turned to Jack. “Jack, which one would you like?” He picked a fairly plain white one, just like I knew he would.

“Do you know your size?”

“Miss, I think you need to measure him, don’t you?” I suggested.

“No problem. By the way, my name is Addie.” She walked out from behind the counter with a cloth tape measure and measured my Jack.

“There’s always a question with men because they’re built differently. If we use the waist measurement, he’s a 2XL. If we use the hip measurement, he’s a large.”

“Hmmm.” I looked puzzled. “Jack, why don’t you try on a large?” The look he gave me could have drilled a hole through concrete. “Addie, it’s OK to try them on, right?”

“No problem. Just keep your underwear on.” She led Jack to a dressing room at the back. They had a row of four of them, all with swinging doors that were open at the top and bottom. She opened the door of the one closest to the counter and ushered him inside with the girdle. “Let me know if you need any help.”

I watched through the bottom of the swinging door as Jack took off his shoes, dropped his pants and pulled on his girdle. When I was sure it was on, I went over to the dressing room. “Honey, let me see,” I said as I opened the door. I was sure that Addie could see as well. “Well this is a real problem, isn’t it?”

Jack had worn boxers, which were all bunched up and poking through the leg holes. “This won’t do at all. Addie, can you get him a pair of panties? Put them on the bill.”

She returned with a sampling of panties of various cuts and styles, all pretty. “No, I think something plainer is called for. Just something ordinary.” She returned with a pair that was white, undecorated and 100% polyester. “These will be fine” I said as I handed them to Jack. “Put these on underneath honey.”

He did as he was told and I gave him a minute to two for the girdle and then opened the door again. “This still doesn’t look right. Addie, can you come here a minute? What do you think?” I looked at Jack. “Hold up your shirt, honey, I can’t see the waistline.”

I turned my attention to Addie for a minute. “He’s still got a little paunch right here,” and I rubbed my hand against Jack’s tummy. “And there’s something else that isn’t quite right.”

Addie turned to me and said what I thought was “muffin top.” I looked at her quizzically. “Muffin top,” she repeated, pointing the roll of flab that poked over the waistband. She was right; it did look just like the top of a muffin.

“I think maybe we need something firmer and high-waisted” and she went to fetch what she needed. When she returned, I knew we were beginning to get serious. This girdle had satin panels and all kinds of bars and stays and things all over it, with a large band at the waist. It was also decorated with a tiny, cute satin bow and a floral pattern in the spandex. “Try this sir,” and she handed it to Jack.

He scowled at me but not wanting to make a scene, did what he was told. He pulled to door closed but I could hear him struggling with it a little more. When Addie asked him how he was doing, we heard a gruff “OK.”

I opened the door, turned to Addie and said, “this is an improvement, but it still isn’t right. The tummy is better and the, umm, muffin top is much smaller but it’s still there a little and this is a problem.” I pointed to the crotch where Jack’s pantied “equipment” was spilling out the sides.

I could tell that Addie was really enjoying this by now. “I can see that. This is more complicated than I thought.” She paused for a minute. “This is going to take a little work. I hope you have some time” and she beamed at both me and Jack.

We tried all kinds of things to get that perfect look. We tried a different high-waisted panty girdle with a wider crotch panel, but it didn’t really solve the problem. An open bottom girdle solved that issue, but required stockings to hold it in place and I just didn’t see Jack being very good at attaching stockings to garters. Besides, the open bottom girdle flattened his tush a little more than I wanted. From there, we went to a long-legged girdle which solved the equipment leakage problem but brought the muffin top back.

Every so often a customer would come in the store and Addie would have to leave us. I’d from Jack, leaving him in the dressing room in whatever girdle he’d last tried on. If the opportunity presented itself, I’d try to say something or even open the door so the customer would see or hear him. He was sulking and clearly totally embarrassed, but wasn’t resisting.

I don’t remember why we didn’t like the long-legged girdle with a waist-nipper but we didn’t. Addie had gone to get an all-in-one, when her mom, Celeste, came back in the shop. There were a couple of other customers in the shop at the time. “Good to see you Mom, we’ve been busy this morning. This,” and she held up the all-in-one, “is for the guy in the dressing room. He’s a crossdresser and he and his wife came in this morning to get some help in the shape department.” The other customers looked at the dressing room with amused curiosity.

“That probably won’t fit, Addie,” Celeste said without batting an eye. “He’s probably too tall.” She took the all-in-one from Addie, opened the door and held it against Jack’s mortified body. “We’d never get this to fit.”

“I know what will work, though. Why don’t you help these other ladies and I’ll step in here.” She turned to Jack and introduced herself. “You’re going to need a high-waisted, long legged girdle. How firm do you want to get?” she asked him. I spoke up. “Nice to meet you Celeste. I’m his wife. I think we want something really firm. I want to make sure we control this tummy and maybe give him a little bit of a waist.”

“I’m sure we can help.” When she came out from the back room, she had a long white box and she showed me the contents. It was exactly what she said, a high waisted, long legged panty girdle with lace on the leg cuffs, a stiff front satin panel, tiny bow at the top of the panel and lacy pattern in the material. It also had a series of hook and eyes running up the side covered with a zipper. It was really pretty, but also looked as if it could have been used by the Spanish Inquisition.

“Why don’t you get into this and then I’ll help you hook it up.” She gave him a moment of privacy to take off the old girdle and pull this one up before opening the door to close him up. I couldn’t really see what was going on, but I did hear both Celeste and Jack huffing and puffing every so often. When she was finished, she stepped away from Jack to show me results.

This was great. The high waist extended up to his rib cage and really did pull in his waist. He looked positively darling in the lace and the satin, but there wasn’t a millimeter of jiggle under that monster.

“Celeste, you are a miracle worker. This is almost perfect.” She looked at me inquisitively. “Well, we have a little bit hanging over here,” and I pinched a bit of skin that was pushed over the top of the girdle. “I also wonder if you have anything that would give him a little shape back here,” and I rubbed my hand over his bum.

Celeste answered, “There are only a couple of things that will smooth all over, and we already know he won’t fit into an all-in-one. You could try a corsolette, but then you’d need stockings and a corsolette won’t work with pants. The only other thing I know is a long-line bra.”

“I hadn’t thought of a bra,” I said, “But I’m not against it. Why don’t you measure him.”

Now I could tell by Jack’s reaction that his initial shock had worn off, replaced by some confusion and lots of humiliation — and by the blush that was creeping into his cheeks, I could tell there was some excitement, too. When Celeste took out her tape measure, he lifted his arms without being asked.

“He’s a 42 for band size.” She announced when done. “What about...” and she brushed his breasts.

“Let’s worry about that later,” I said. “Let’s just see how it looks.”

Celeste went off to the stock room and returned with a couple of boxes. “The only long-lines we have in that size have large cups. These are both D’s. One hooks up the back and one is front-close. The one that hooks up the back is prettier, I think.”

She took the bra out of the box, adjusted the straps and turned Jack around. She put his arms through the straps, put the cups in the right
place, pulled tight on the elastic, hooked him up and turned him around.

The effect was stunning. The lace pattern on the bra almost matched the lace on the girdle. The strong, wide waist band of the girdle was reinforced by the bra so that Jack’s waist was reduced by almost 2”. “That’s really nice, Celeste, thank you.” I said. “Thank the nice lady, Jack.”

He mumbled a thank you.

“The problem areas have shifted, though," I said, noting the empty sagging bra cups. Also, now that Jack had a little bit of a waist, his lack of hips and bum was becoming more noticeable.

Addie, who had been helping other customers for the last several minutes, gave her mother two boxes and said "it seems to me that you could either wait for him to grow into them or try these." The boxes contained breast forms that the shop carries for mastectomy patients. "These are D's to match the size of the bra."

Her mother took the forms out of the boxes and placed them in Jack’s bra, being very careful to adjust them just so. When she was done, she stepped back and looked, like an artist looking at almost finished canvas. “What do you think,” she asked me?

This was getting amazing. From the neck down, there was almost no hint of maleness in Jack. There were wisps of leg and arm hair and a narrow butt, but his large boobs and slimmed waist more than made up for those minor flaws. “Celeste,” I said, “this is really great. You’ve done a wonderful job. You too, Addie.”

"I think so too,” Celeste smiled. “I just thought of one more thing to make him perfect.” She turned to her daughter. “Addie, will you get the padded panty-girdle by Venus? Bring out a large and a medium.”

While Addie was gone, Celeste and I made small talk in front of the open door of the dressing room while Jack tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He wasn’t being very successful, but I could also tell that he was getting seriously turned on by all of this. Addie returned and gave Celeste the boxes. The girdle was an ordinary white panty girdle but it had pads built into the hips and butt. “Since he’s already wearing a firm girdle, a large might be too big. I’d like him to try the medium first.”

She handed Jack the girdle. When he reopened the door, my jaw dropped. It wasn’t nearly as pretty as what he had before, but he must have added 6” to his hips. “That’s IT!” I squeaked, clapping my hands. “That’s exactly the look I wanted. Jack, put your clothes on, I’d love to see how this changes you dressed. Celeste, do you want to start writing up the bill? This is so great.”

Celeste moved towards the cash register to write up the sale. Jack hissed at me. “I can’t go out looking like this!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you won’t be going out looking like that. You’ll have your sweater and pants on, silly. And your jacket.” I smiled sweetly. “Besides, I have your wallet and keys.” I waved the items I’d swiped while he was in the changing room. With that, I flounced off towards Celeste to pay the bill.

When Jack opened the dressing room door again, his size D boobs severely tested the stretch properties of his sweater while hugging his new waist. He clearly had some trouble zipping his pants, as these men’s khakis were not meant for hips this big. There were clear stretch marks across his now totally flat tummy and not a single bump or bulge where most men have them, if you know what I mean.

Did he look like a runway model — no way, but he didn’t look like a guy either. “Jack, sweetie” I said, “put on your baseball cap. I want to see something.” When he did, I saw what I wanted. His longish, if thinning hair, fell below the cap, which hid the thin spots on top. Standing in front of me was a frumpy, awkward, gawky woman. The beginning of Jack’s fantasy dyke, if you will.

When we stepped out onto the street, Jack tugged his jacket across his boobs and kept his arms tight across his chest. He kept his eyes focused tightly on the ground, so as not to make any eye contact with anyone.

“If you are trying to attract attention,” I said to him, “the best way to do it is to look like someone about to commit a robbery, which is exactly what you are doing. Just be yourself, sweetie.” We walked a couple of blocks and then I took a sudden turn into the Ann Taylor store. Jack quickly followed, petrified about being out on the street with D boobs, without me to protect him.

I told Jack I’d only be a couple of minutes but that I needed a couple of things. I took my time browsing through the racks of clothes for the office, and then took a look at a couple of sales racks. What I was looking for was something for Jack, to spice up his look a little without freaking him out too much. His sweater wasn’t too bad, but those pants were pretty hideous and he could use a little color.

Without taking too long, I picked up a pair of pants on sale. Since they were women’s and had a stretchier fabric, they would accentuate his new hips and butt better than his ugly, lumpy cargo pants. The waist would be lower, but most important, they would be flat in the front, hugging his now smooth crotch. These particular pants were charcoal with a light pinstripe and would work just fine with his sweater. I added a paisley scarf while checking out.

Jack was too concerned about whether anyone noticed him to see what I was doing. That was just OK with me. The cashier rang up the sale, put the pants and the scarf in a bag, and off we went. As we exited the store, I hooked my arm in his, swinging the bag from Ann Taylor, as if prancing in a TV commercial.

We turned right out of the store and headed towards the main intersection of the downtown section. After dawdling in front of a couple of storefronts, I jerked him into a Starbucks and sat him down with my Ann Taylor bag at a table that wasn’t too far from the restrooms. Once he was settled, with his arms firmly crossed across his chest so (he thought) nobody would see his boobs, I went and got us some lattes.

I put the lattes on the table and we started to sip our drinks. We chatted about nothing in particular, but I could tell he was not only nervous as hell but more than a little turned on. He kept fidgeting in his seat and he was having difficulty following what I was talking about. After a couple of minutes, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. After having a pee, I also changed my maxipad (it being that time of the month). I really didn’t need to yet, but I had another wicked thought. I carefully wrapped it up in toilet paper and placed it in the little receptacle next to the toilet paper dispenser.

When I came back to our table, I “accidentally” knocked my latte into Jack’s lap. Well, not into his lap, but all over his legs. He jumped up, forgetting to hide his boobs which were now jiggling all over the place. His pants were soaked with hot latte and I could see him getting angry and out of control.

“Jack honey, don’t get upset.” I said, being the concerned wife. “You can put these on,” and I waved the Ann Taylor bag at him. I saw him scowl and I pulled out the pants. “Look — grey pants — nothing you haven’t worn before and nothing that anyone will notice.” He scowled again.
“Seriously. Tell me what you see”

He waited for a couple of moments, and then said “Grey pants.” He grabbed them and then hesitated.

I knew he wouldn’t know that women’s pants are cut differently and that the way these would hug his butt and his bulge-less crotch would make all the difference in the world. He was sort of clueless in the realm of fashion. But when he hesitated, I also knew he was a bit confused as to what he was supposed to do.

“Umm, I don’t think you should use the men’s room looking like that. Let me check the ladies and make sure the coast is clear.” I knew there was nobody in there but I wanted to stretch this out a bit. I opened the door and made a show of looking around. Of course there was nobody there but I looked relieved. “Everything’s OK sweetie.”

Just before he entered, I leaned into his ear. “By the way, dear, I just changed my maxipad. If you want, it’s the top one in the little metal box next to the toilet paper. Just press it into your panties. You might like the way it feels.”

He seemed to be in the ladies room for a while, which made me smile. If all he was doing was changing his pants, that wouldn’t have taken very long. Pulling down the padded panty, the girdle, and the panties, and then arranging the maxipad would have taken a bit of time. When he finally emerged, he was a even a little more flushed than when he went in. He sat down and then fidgeted for a bit, which made me believe that he used my pad.

“Ummm, did you?” I asked quietly, while looking away. When I turned towards him, it was obvious that he had. I stayed quiet, though, until he nodded.

“Yes.”

“Well let’s get going then,” I brightly announced. We had one more stop in my plans.

We started walking back towards the car, but as we passed the MAC cosmetics store, I dipped into the store, carrying Jack with me. As soon as we entered the store, one of the black-clad aestheticians, armed with an apron full of brushes and pencils, brightly asked if she could help me.

“Not me,” I replied. “My husband,” and I gestured towards Jack, my husband, with size D boobs, a padded butt sticking out to there and wearing pants that clung to his every curve.

“No problem,” she said. “I’m Tonya. What can I do for you,” she beamed at him.

I jumped in. “We’re big fans of ‘What Not to Wear’ and shows like that and we noticed how much difference makeup can really make. So Jacki has been dabbling a bit in girls clothes, and we wanted to see what a little makeup can do.”

“You’re so right, makeup makes so much difference. What kind of look are you looking for?” Tonya wasn’t sure who she should be talking to because Jack was acting a little comatose. She kept switching back and forth between me and him and he was doing everything he could to look invisible

“Jacki sweetie, “ I said, “do you have anything special in mind?”

“Not really, “ he mumbled.

Now I wanted to lay down my big card. “I think something along the lines of a big ol’ bull dyke who has the hots for a cutie and is planning her first date. What do you think?” Now I have no idea what Tonya thought, but I know that Jack pretty much melted into the ground through a combination of embarrassment and lust. Actually, I don’t know how I got through that line myself.

Tonya, on the other hand, seemed to take it all in stride. “I have some ideas,” she said. “First, why don’t you sit down right here and let me get some stuff.” She parked Jack in a tall stool by a mirror and started collecting materials. When she got back, she began by cleaning his face a bit, and then applying a concealer to a couple of problem spots and a foundation to even out the skin tone.

“Now,” she said, “if you’re a dyke you probably aren’t all that used to makeup so you’re probably going to want to go a little further than straight girl would. Is that OK?”

I said yes, before Jack could even think of a response.

With that, she got started. First, she plucked a bunch of eyebrow hairs and then put on a sealer to define what was left. Next, a thick black eyeliner on the top lid and a slightly thinner line on about half of the bottom lids. A smoky grey eyeshadow on the bottom lid with a slightly lighter shade of grey on the upper lid. The blush was a darkish red, darker and more apparent than anything I’ve ever worn but curiously not all that out of place on Jack’s skin tone. This girl knew what she was doing.

Finally, the lipstick, a dark red, almost burgundy, in a thick application. For the clothes Jack was wearing, this was obviously too much, but if Jack were to change into a business suit or a cocktail dress, he would have been positively hot. We wound up buying the foundation, concealer, lipstick and eyeliner, passing on the blush and eyeshadow. When Jack realized that we weren’t going to wash his face before we left the shop, I could see the panic flashing under the artificial color but we were far beyond that.

As we walked back into the sunlight, I have no idea was was going through his mind. But I know what I saw. I saw a tall, gawky, lesbian with too much makeup, a big shapely butt and big, saggy boobs. I also saw the love of my life, looking incredibly nervous and even more incredibly turned on.

I slid up next to him and then pulled his body close to mine. His boobs and mine kind of mashed together. I slid my hand down to his crotch, feeling the maxipad, then rubbing it a couple of times causing him to shiver. Then I slid my hands around to his butt, pulling him even closer to me.

Right out there on the sidewalk, with dozens of folks walking by, I kissed him hard and deep on the mouth, our tits, tummies and “down there” bits all crushing up against each other. Within seconds, I felt him cum, hard, violently, shaking against me. I held him tight until he was done.

“Aren’t you glad you’ve got a maxi,” I grinned. “I’d hate it when I get my panties dirty.”

I could taste his lipstick on my lips.

“Let’s go home,” I said. As we headed back to the parking lot, Jack was walking kind of funny. I couldn’t tell if it was because he was weak from his orgasm, or he was having problems with the cum in his Kotex.