I apologise in advanced for any grammar or spelling mistakes.
I have not been able to find royalty free clipart. I have been using
images of myself. Does anyone know a good source?

This is part 4 of the offer. Please read the other parts for the full
story. This part deals with Debbie, the full time "sissy housewife's,"
back story. From the first time she was forced to dress and perform
housework

The Offer part 4

Debbie sat in silence on the drive home. Ron had angered her and she
didn't know why he treated her like that. She thought Ron had drunk a
little too much to be driving, but knew he would bite her head off is she
said something.

Ron was first to break the silence.

"You know what? I think I want to fuck my maid tonight. Is that OK with
you sugar tits?"

More insults she thought. He liked her to dress sometimes for sex. The
maids costume was one of many he had ordered over the last year. She
hadn't worn it for him yet.

She had tried it on. It was a knee length black satin dress with puffy
lace trimmed sleeves. It was good quality, not the usual sex shop stuff.
It came with a full lace apron and cap. The main thing she liked was the
full net petticoat. She had a nice pair of white ruffled knickers to go
with it. She had always liked these. They looked like the tennis knickers
women used to wear.

"Please don't call me that," she said.

"OK babe, sorry, but the thought of you wearing that outfit is getting me
hard now. I'll have to think of something else, or we will have to pull
over and you will have to take care of me.

She hated the way she was at his beck and call for sex. Often she was
left unfulfilled. She took care of her needs when he wasn't around. Then
again she found idea of being subservient to a man a big turn on. Why did
she crave this?

Debbie thought back to when she was younger.

Andrew was an only child. He was desperate for attention from his
parents. His mother did the bare minimum for him. His father ignored him.

When he was 10 he woke up hearing a noise coming from his parent's
bedroom. He crept to the open door and stood back and watched.

His mother was dressed in frilly black underwear. She was sucking his
father's huge, hard penis. His father was moaning and telling her how
beautiful she was and how much he loved her.

Then his mother lay on the bed, while his father told her to "Get those
Knickers off now!"

He forced her legs apart and she yelped. He was rough and it looked like
he was hurting her. Andrew thought about shouting at his father, but
stopped as his mother was smiling.

His father pushed his penis into the hole between his mother's legs.
Andrew was surprised. He knew women and girls did not have a willy like
him, but he thought the hole was just for peeing.

Now in front of him he saw the real differences between boys and girls.
His mother was making noises like she was hurting, but also enjoying
herself. She was telling his father how much she loved him.

Andrew knew that as his willy was very small, he could not be like his
father. So perhaps he must look pretty like his mother to get love and
attention.

First he started wearing some of his mother's underwear from the laundry
basket. The knickers felt so soft, he knew he would keep doing it. Later
he tried a bra, it looked silly until he stuffed it with a few pairs of
dirty tights. The feel of the tights made him wonder what they would feel
like on his legs.

By the age of fourteen, he was dressing fully every time they left him
alone at home. He experimented with makeup and started to feel aroused
when dressing. His parents used to go out drinking several times a week.
They usually got home well after midnight. It seemed they were only
really happy when they were drunk. The only healthy part of the marriage
was their sex life.

At sixteen years old he was playing with himself on his parent's bed,
dressed in his mother black basque, lace top stockings, black thong and
high heeled boots. His parents walked in and all hell broke loose.

His mother slapped him, his father was screaming, calling him a "dirty
little poof" "fucking queer".

He ran to his bedroom and locked the door. He listened to the row that
carried on for hours. He heard his mother say "I never wanted him
anyway".

In the morning his father had left. His mother, who never really showed
him much affection, was even colder with him. She started to drink all
the time.

Andrew got a job at Mac Donald's and started to save so he could move
out. One Sunday morning he asked his mother why he did not have any clean
clothes. She screamed at him that he should learn how to do the laundry
himself as all he was going to be good for was to be someone's "Fucking
sissy little wife."

She came back into the room a few minutes later carrying a pair of old,
off white cotton knickers, bra and frayed flowered housedress.

"Put this on, you sissy, and I'll teach you how to do the housework like
a good little wifey," she spat at him.

Andrew, red faced did as he was told and spent the day learning to wash
clothes, iron and cook.

This became a regular occurrence whenever Andrew wasn't working. His
mother's scorn at seeing her son dressed as a woman, was overcome by
having him do the housework while she drunk herself into a stupor.

She never gave him nice clothes to wear; they were always old and plain.

Andrew had been letting his hair grow and shaving his sparse hair. One
Sunday his mother said.

"You really do look the part, don't you?" She went to her room and came
back with a realistic looking dildo and tried to shove it in his mouth.

"Here take this to bed tonight, suck it, and shove it up your arse.
That's what's going to happen to a little queer like you soon."

She laughed in his face and went back to her drink.

He knew he had to get out. In a strange way he knew he enjoyed his mother
making him wear her old clothes. He also knew he hated being treated as a
sick perverted slave.

When he told his mother he was leaving, all she said was, "Found yourself
some cock have you?"

He moved a short distance away from his job. It was a tiny bedsit he
could barely afford.

Over the next ten years he drifted from one dead end, low paid job to
another. With no prospects, no car and little cash, his life was very
dull. He tried his luck with women, but a broke, effeminate looking guy
does not get much female attention.

When he reached thirty the urge to crossdress re-surged. The little spare
cash he had was spent on sexy underwear, shoes, dresses and makeup.

In his mid thirties he decided to create a profile on a contact site, in
the name of Debbie36. He was amazed at the attention he got. Guys were
messaging him all the time. The massages ranged from polite to obscene.

He had fantasies about being a woman and having sex with a man, but never
thought it could actually happen. He met a few of the polite sounding
men. Always the meetings ended with him using his hands and mouth to
please the men. It seemed a fair exchange for the attention they gave
him.

Most of the men wanted to fuck him. He was always getting asked to do
this, and he started to come around to the idea. He practiced on himself
with various objects until he was comfortable. It did not turn him on too
much, but he knew it would make him even more popular.

At forty- one, he had been dressing as a woman at home doing his
housework in his tiny bedsit. He had a fantasy of being a "sissy wife".
The idea of living with a guy, being expected to take care of all his
needs was overwhelming. Living full time as a woman, constantly wearing
soft frilly, pretty clothes. Perfume, makeup and heels. Just the thought
almost drove him over the edge.

About that time Ron got in touch. Ron was forty-nine, tall with a huge
bear like frame. She felt so soft and girly with him.

She had told Ron of her fantasy, and Ron offered to make it reality. This
is when he made her the offer.

Every part her male life had to go. All her accounts were closed and her
male possessions were thrown away. All she would have left is her driver's
licence and her NHS card. She would need these in case she needed medical
treatment.

That was just over a year ago. Now she realised that she was as good as
trapped in the life of a middle aged wife. The masochistic part of her
was thrilled, but deep down she felt she was being used rather than
valued and loved.

The car pulled up outside their flat. Ron walked around and opened the
door for her.

"Come on darling, I'm looking forward to this," he said.

More to come