The wife found out that her husband has a feminine side as a sissy. She decides to accept him as he is... but will she?

I had a perfect marriage and a perfect relationship, but two days ago I found my husband, Aslan, dressed in my clothes. I had a terrible fight with myself. I stressed my nerves to maximum and almost agreed to divorce. But, in the end, I accepted things as they are. A few minutes ago, I was under such tension, like a star waiting to go supernova. I almost exploded. Then, suddenly, I started to laugh and say ramble words. It is like my brain just gave-up. Or am I going mad?

I waited for Aslan to come from bedroom with the new clothes, but he didn't come.

"What a fuck" I sing for myself.

I go to open the door. If he refuses, I feel like I need to kill him. If he accepts and is dressed as a woman, I think I will kill him either. But, either way, I am singing and I feel happy. My brain did not explode, it made a short-circuit. My fuses are out.

I open the door.

"What a fuck" I say, with loud voice.

Aslan is here, dressed in his normal home clothes, not wearing what I brought. He just left them on the bed, where I placed them. I think I am getting angry.

"Now, listen, infidel", I say, almost shouting. "After all what you did, now what is in your mind? I order you to get dressed with these!"

He looks at me, puzzled and refusing what I want.

"My love, what and why?" he says.

I can see a guilty look in his eyes. Yes, a sense of guilty.

"After all this? You caused me two days of extreme stress", I say, with anger. "Now, get dressed with what I both you, at once!"

"No", he says, with a firm voice. "I am a man and I will get dressed as a man. What happened was an accident and it will never repeat".

"What happened is your secret feminine side. It happened before and it will certainly repeat when I will be missing from home", I say, with anger in my voice.

"Please forgive me", he says.

He is like a thief, begging for mercy, saying "I will never do this again, I swear". But I know well the look of a thief, that will go again for a robbery once you let him go.

"No, I don't forgive you", I say with a harsh voice. "Only the priest forgives under his dress, I don't".

"I am sorry and I regret all what I've done", he tries to defend himself.

"What do you think you did wrong"? I ask. "Wearing my clothes or the fact that you lied to me"?

"Both", he answers. "And I promise none will ever happen again".

At that moment, I feel like going to explode. After all I've been through, after all the fight in my brain, now he refuses to wear these clothes.

"On the fuck with you!" I scream.

Suddenly, he accepts. He starts to take off his male clothes, down to the point where he is naked. Then, he starts to put on the clothes I both. First the underpants, then the pantyhose. Oh mine, what a mess! His feet are hairy! They look horrible under the hose layer! He needs to be epilated. Then, he takes on the bra and the dress. And finally, he takes the sandals.

"Stand up", I order.

He listens to me instantly. I examine him. A man in woman clothes! It doesn't fit well. Something is wrong. First, his feet, with all that hair on them, don't look girly at all. Second, he is a bit too fat for a woman. Women look different at their crotch then men and have a different type of waist. Third, as I look up, I notice that the bra does not fit him well. For a woman, the breasts form a bit upper and are visible above the bra. For a man, with no real breasts, holes form where breasts should be.

Even more, his arms are more hairy then mine.

But the main difference comes when I look at his face. He has the face of a man. He is shaved, but still, even if perfectly shaved, women don't have their face completely uncovered of hair. If you look very close, there is some hair on a woman's face, where a man would have mustache or beard.

Instead of making me throw-up, I start to arrange his clothes. I take make-up and start to work with his face. How to make him more feminine? Let's take care of the lashes first, then add some color around his eyes. Not much, but there must be a bit. I add some pink powder on his chicks and his beard, to look more girlish. then, let's add some lipstick!

All this time, his face looks like a caught thief waiting to enter prison. It looks like I am enjoying this more then he is.

The next thing, I want to paint his fingernails, but I realize that tomorrow people will laugh at him at work. So, I just glue him some fake nails.

"Take a look at yourself in the mirror", I say.

He does exactly that.

"How do you look?" I ask.

"A lot better then when I did this by myself", he answers.

"But still, it is not good", I say. "You still look somehow like a man".

It is somehow true. He should need facial surgery and breast implants to look like a woman. But still, he doesn't look like those gay guys, dressed in women clothes, that I've seen on TV. No, he looks much better.

"Thank you", he says. "This is a well guarded secret that not even my parents knew."

"Don't worry, you are not the only one", I say.

"Really?" he asks surprised, with big eyes.

"Really", I say, with a small smile. "What you are is called a sissy".

I tell him the term in English, in my native language it doesn't exist.

"I never heard about", he answers.

"At work, I made a research on my own", I say. "I found hundreds of men like you, with the same addiction. You are not the only one".

In fact, I lie. The only thing I did read is the article showed to me by my friend Astana. Well, I take a cigarette for me and one for him. I sit on the bed and invite him to sit too.

"Take one smoke", I say. "This will relax you".

As I sit near him, I examine his body. His now pantyhosed feet are visible as the dress ends at his knees. They are lighter then mine. His body, now hidden behind the red dress, is that of a man, but it looks like that of a fat woman. But it is the face that doesn't fit well. What should I do about that? Is it possible to do something?

He sits near me and smokes. He hardly inhales anything, while I take the smoke deep inside my lungs. I see in his eyes submission and fulfillment. He is happy. As for me, I am surprised that I don't feel the rejection I expected to feel. Well, it is not something I like. Still, I am happy that I managed to make him happy.

Since I was a child, the man I dreamed was one full of muscles. I liked to watch movies with Schwarzenegger. The Terminator series or The Running Man, for example. I dreamed how good would feel to rest my head on his arm, on his powerful biceps, to feel the muscles inside. This is what made me horny when I was a teen, this was the perfect model for a man: full with muscles, with power. I also liked to see hair on a man's abdomen. Another thing that I enjoyed was to see men smoking cigars. For a woman, smoking cigarettes is a sign of independence, especially in a society with Islam influences, like this town. For a man, smoking cigars is associated with the rude and tough guy, ready to fight with everyone.

Well, Aslan is not a man full of muscles and until recently he was not even a smoker. But still, he showed his love to me on so many occasions, that he won my heart quickly.

I examine his body and caress him, with these new clothes. In the same time, he starts to touch me, to massage my feet with his hands. He loves to do this, I know it very well. His feet don't feel like mine. With all the hair on them, they feel somehow different.

Then I notice he tries to move his feet, his thighs more exactly. I know it, don't need to explain me. His penis got hard. Touching my feet has this effect. But now, with his girly clothes, something different happened. He was turned on much faster and more powerful then before. It might be an aphrodisiac for him, but not for me. How on Earth can I make love with a man dressed as a woman? Knowing that he will try to seduce me and we will go to bed, I stand-up and say it shortly:

"I think this is enough for today! It is time to take off your cloths and get dressed for bed. Go and wash yourself, tomorrow we go to work"!

He listens to what I say, without a comment. His face shows submission and fulfillment. But what surprises me is the huge sexual impact this kind of clothing had on him. This might work for him, but for me, I need him as a man and not as a woman. Who knows, maybe we will get to a formula somehow and after a while.

As he gets to bed, he tries to seduce me, to kiss and to hug me. He is really turned on, while I am exhausted by all the stress of the day. Even if I have no power left in my body, I accept to make love with him, but it is he who enjoys all this up to the sky.

**********

The next day, he wakes-up before me, while I hardly get out of bed in time to reach work. I feel like all was a dream. I am so confused, that I need to look at the female clothes I just both for him. No, it was not a dream, only that my brain ceased to operate when a fuse went off somewhere inside my head. I feel shocked of how could I sit near a man dressed like a woman. But still, I know this will happen again and again and again.

TO BE CONTINUED